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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29479-8.txt b/29479-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8284717 --- /dev/null +++ b/29479-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12927 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Night Riders, by Ridgwell Cullum + +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 Night Riders + A Romance of Early Montana + +Author: Ridgwell Cullum + +Release Date: July 21, 2009 [EBook #29479] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NIGHT RIDERS *** + + + + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + The Night-Riders + + A Romance of Early Montana + + By + + RIDGWELL CULLUM + + _Author of "The Watchers of the Plains," "The + Sheriff of Dyke Hole," "The Trail of the + Axe," "The One-Way Trail," etc._ + + PHILADELPHIA + GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY + PUBLISHERS + + + + +Copyright, 1913, by + +GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY + +_Published February, 1913_ + +_All rights reserved_ Printed in U. S. A. + + + + +[Illustration: He took her in his powerful arms and drew her to his +breast] + + + + +Contents + + + I. IN THE HANDS OF THE PHILISTINES 9 + + II. MOSQUITO BEND 26 + + III. THE BLIND MAN 46 + + IV. THE NIGHT-RIDERS 68 + + V. TRESLER BEGINS HIS EDUCATION 82 + + VI. THE KILLING OF MANSON ORR 104 + + VII. WHICH DEALS WITH THE MATTER OF DRINK 127 + + VIII. JOE NELSON INDULGES IN A LITTLE MATCH-MAKING 141 + + IX. TRESLER INVOLVES HIMSELF FURTHER; THE + LADY JEZEBEL IN A FREAKISH MOOD 157 + + X. A WILD RIDE 177 + + XI. THE TRAIL OF THE NIGHT-RIDERS 192 + + XII. THE RISING OF A SUMMER STORM 213 + + XIII. THE BEARDING OF JAKE 232 + + XIV. A PORTENTOUS INTERVIEW 248 + + XV. AT WILLOW BLUFF 263 + + XVI. WHAT LOVE WILL DO 285 + + XVII. THE LIGHTED LAMP 301 + + XVIII. THE RENUNCIATION 315 + + XIX. HOT UPON THE TRAIL 332 + + XX. BY THE LIGHT OF THE LAMP 349 + + XXI. AT WIDOW DANGLEY'S 364 + + XXII. THE PURSUIT OF RED MASK 381 + + XXIII. A RETURN TO THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES 395 + + XXIV. ARIZONA 412 + + + + +Illustrations + + + He Took Her in His Powerful Arms and Drew Her + to His Breast _Frontispiece_ + + A Moment Later He Beheld Two Horsemen + _Facing page_ 74 + + Left Alone with her Patient, She had Little to Do + but Reflect _Facing page_ 302 + + + + +The Night-Riders + + + + +CHAPTER I + +IN THE HANDS OF THE PHILISTINES + + +Forks Settlement no longer occupies its place upon the ordnance map of +the state of Montana. At least not _the_ Forks Settlement--the one +which nestled in a hollow on the plains, beneath the shadow of the +Rocky Mountains. It is curious how these little places do contrive to +slip off the map in the course of time. There is no doubt but that +they do, and are wholly forgotten, except, perhaps, by those who +actually lived or visited there. It is this way with all growing +countries, and anywhere from twenty to thirty years ago Montana was +distinctly a new country. + +It was about '85 that Forks Settlement enjoyed the height of its +prosperity--a prosperity based on the supply of dry-goods and +machinery to a widely scattered and sparse population of small +ranchers and farmers. These things brought it into existence and kept +it afloat for some years. Then it gradually faded from existence--just +as such places do. + +When John Tresler rode into Forks he wondered what rural retreat he +had chanced upon. He didn't wonder in those words, his language was +much more derogatory to the place than that. + +It was late one afternoon when his horse ambled gently on to the green +patch which served Forks as a market-place. He drew up and looked +around him for some one to give him information. The place was quite +deserted. It was a roasting hot day, and the people of Forks were not +given to moving about much on hot days, unless imperative business +claimed them. As there were only two seasons in the year when such a +thing was likely to happen, and this was not one of them, no one was +stirring. + +The sky was unshaded by a single cloud. Tresler was tired, stiff, and +consumed by a sponge-like thirst, for he was unused to long hours in +the saddle. And he had found a dreary monotony in riding over the +endless prairie lands of the West. + +Now he found himself surrounded by an uncertain circle of wooden +houses. None of them suggested luxury, but after the heaving rollers +of grass-land they suggested companionship and life. And just now that +was all the horseman cared about. + +He surveyed each house in turn, searching for a single human face. And +at last he beheld a window full of faces staring curiously at him from +the far side of the circle. It was enough. Touching his jaded horse's +flanks he rode over toward it. + +Further life appeared now in the form of a small man who edged shyly +round the angle of the building and stood gazing at him. The stranger +was a queer figure. His face was as brown as the surface of a prairie +trail and just as scored with ruts. His long hair and flowing beard +were the color of matured hay. His dress was simple and in keeping +with his face; moleskin trousers, worn and soiled, a blue serge shirt, +a shabby black jacket, and a fiery handkerchief about his neck, while +a battered prairie hat adorned the back of his head. + +Tresler pulled his horse up before this welcome vision and slid +stiffly to the ground, while the little man slanted his eyes over his +general outfit. + +"Is this Forks Settlement?" the newcomer asked, with an ingratiating +smile. He was a manly looking fellow with black hair and steel-blue +eyes; he was dressed in a plain Norfolk jacket and riding kit. He was +not particularly handsome, but possessed a strong, reliant face. + +The stranger closed his eyes in token of acquiescence. + +"Ur-hum," he murmured. + +"Will you point me out the hotel?" + +The other's eyes had finally settled themselves on the magnificent +pair of balloon-shaped corduroy riding-breeches Tresler was wearing, +which had now resettled themselves into their natural voluminous +folds. + +He made no audible reply. He was engrossed with the novel vision +before him. A backward jerk of the head was the only sign he permitted +himself. + +Tresler looked at the house indicated. He felt in some doubt, and not +without reason. The place was a mere two-storied shanty, all askew and +generally unpromising. + +"Can I--that is, does the proprietor take--er--guests?" he asked. + +"Guess Carney takes most anythin'," came the easy reply. + +The door of the hotel opened and two men came out, eyeing the newcomer +and his horse critically. Then they propped themselves in leisurely +fashion against the door-casing, and chewed silently, while they gazed +abroad with marked unconcern. + +Tresler hazarded another question. He felt strange in this company. It +was his first real acquaintance with a prairie settlement, and he +didn't quite know what to expect. + +"I wonder if there is any one to see to my horse," he said with some +hesitation. + +"Hitch him to the tie-post an' ast in ther'," observed the +uncommunicative man, pointing to a post a few yards from the door, but +without losing interest in the other's nether garments. + +"That sounds reasonable." + +Tresler moved off and secured his horse and loosened the +saddle-girths. + +"Pardon me, sir," he said, when he came back, his well-trimmed six +feet towering over the other's five feet four. "Might I ask whom I +have the pleasure of addressing? My name is John Tresler; I am on my +way to Mosquito Bend, Julian Marbolt's ranch. A stranger, you see, in +a strange land. No doubt you have observed that already," he finished +up good-naturedly. + +But the other's attention was not to be diverted from the interesting +spectacle of the corduroys, and he answered without shifting his gaze. + +"My name's Ranks--gener'ly called 'Slum.' Howdy." + +"Well, Mr. Ranks----" + +"Gener'ly called 'Slum,'" interrupted the other. + +"Mr. Slum, then----" Tresler smiled. + +"Slum!" + +The man's emphasis was marked. There was no cheating him of his due. +"Slum" was his sobriquet by the courtesy of prairie custom. "Ranks" +was purely a paternal heirloom and of no consequence at all. + +"Well, Slum," Tresler laughed, "suppose we go and sample Carney's +refreshments. I'm tired, and possess a thirst." + +He stepped toward the doorway and looked back. Mr. Ranks had not +moved. Only his wondering eyes had followed the other's movements. + +"Won't you join me?" Tresler asked. Then, noting the fixed stare in +the man's eyes, he went on with some impatience, "What the dickens are +you staring at?" And, in self-defense, he was forced into a survey of +his own riding-breeches. + +Slum looked up. A twinkle of amusement shone beneath his heavy brows, +while a broad grin parted the hair on his face. + +"Oh, jest nothin'," he said amiably. "I wer' kind o' figgerin' out +what sort of a feller them pants o' yours wus made for." He doused the +brown earth at his feet with tobacco juice. Then shaking his head +thoughtfully, a look of solemn wonder replaced the grin. "Say," he +added, "but he must 'a' bin a dandy chunk of a man." + +Tresler was about to reply. But a glance at Mr. Ranks, and an audible +snigger coming from the doorway, suddenly changed his mind. He swung +round to face a howl of laughter; and he understood. + +"The drinks are on me," he said with some chagrin. "Come on, all of +you. Yes, I'm a 'tenderfoot.'" + +And it was the geniality of his reply that won him a place in the +society of Forks Settlement at once. In five minutes his horse was +stabled and cared for. In five minutes he was addressing the occupants +of the saloon by their familiar nicknames. In five minutes he was +paying for whisky at an exorbitant price. In five minutes--well, he +sniffed his first breath of prairie habits and prairie ways. + +It is not necessary to delve deeply into the characters of these +citizens of Forks. It is not good to rake bad soil, the process is +always offensive. A mere outline is alone necessary. Ike Carney +purveyed liquor. A little man with quick, cunning eyes, and a mouth +that shut tight under a close-cut fringe of gray moustache. "Shaky" +Pindle, the carpenter, was a sad-eyed man who looked as gentle as a +disguised wolf. His big, scarred face never smiled, because, his +friends said, it was a physical impossibility for it to do so, and his +huge, rough body was as uncouth as his manners, and as unwieldy as his +slow-moving tongue. Taylor, otherwise "Twirly," the butcher, was a man +so genial and rubicund that in five minutes you began to wish that he +was built like the lower animals that have no means of giving audible +expression to their good humor, or, if they have, there is no +necessity to notice it except by a well-directed kick. And Slum, +quiet, unsophisticated Slum, shadier than the shadiest of them all, +but a man who took the keenest delight in the humors of life, and who +did wrong from an inordinate delight in besting his neighbors. A man +to smile at, but to avoid. + +These were the men John Tresler, fresh from Harvard and a generous +home, found himself associated with while he rested on his way to +Mosquito Bend. + +Ike Carney laid himself out to be pleasant. + +"Goin' to Skitter Bend?" he observed, as he handed his new guest the +change out of a one hundred dollar bill. "Wal, it's a tidy +layout;--ninety-five dollars, mister; a dollar a drink. You'll find +that c'rect--best ranch around these parts. Say," he went on, "the ol' +blind hoss has hunched it together pretty neat. I'll say that." + +"Blind mule," put in Slum, vaulting to a seat on the bar. + +"Mule?" questioned Shaky, with profound scorn. "Guess you ain't worked +around his layout, Slum. Skunk's my notion of him. I 'lows his +kickin's most like a mule's, but ther' ain't nothin' more to the +likeness. A mule's a hard-workin', decent cit'zen, which ain't off'n +said o' Julian Marbolt." + +Shaky swung a leg over the back of a chair and sat down with his arms +folded across it, and his heavy bearded chin resting upon them. + +"But you can't expect a blind man to be the essence of amiability," +said Tresler. "Think of his condition." + +"See here, young feller," jerked in Shaky, thrusting his chin-beard +forward aggressively. "Condition ain't to be figgered on when a man +keeps a great hulkin', bulldozin' swine of a foreman like Jake +Harnach. Say, them two, the blind skunk an' Jake, ken raise more hell +in five minutes around that ranch than a tribe o' neches on the +war-path. I built a barn on that place last summer, an' I guess I +know." + +"Comforting for me," observed Tresler, with a laugh. + +"Oh, you ain't like to git his rough edge," put in Carney, easily. + +"Guess you're payin' a premium?" asked Shaky. + +"I'm going to have three years' teaching." + +"Three years o' Skitter Bend?" said Slum, quietly. "Guess you'll learn +a deal in three years o' Skitter Bend." + +The little man chewed the end of a cigar Tresler had presented him +with, while his twinkling eyes exchanged meaning glances with his +comrades. Twirly laughed loudly and backed against the bar, stretching +out his arms on either side of him, and gripping its moulded edge with +his beefy hands. + +"An' you're payin' fer that teachin'?" the butcher asked +incredulously, when his mirth had subsided. + +"It seems the custom in this country to pay for everything you get," +Tresler answered, a little shortly. + +He was being laughed at more than he cared about. Still he checked his +annoyance. He wanted to know something about the local reputation of +the rancher he had apprenticed himself to, so he fired a direct +question in amongst his audience. + +"Look here," he said sharply. "What's the game? What's the matter with +this Julian Marbolt?" + +He looked round for an answer, which, for some minutes, did not seem +to be forthcoming. + +Slum broke the silence at last. "He's blind," he said quietly. + +"I know that," retorted Tresler, impatiently. "It's something else I +want to know." + +He looked at the butcher, who only laughed. He turned on the +saloon-keeper, who shook his head. Finally he applied to Shaky. + +"Wal," the carpenter began, with a ponderous air of weighing his +words. "I ain't the man to judge a feller offhand like. I 'lows I know +suthin' o' the blind man o' Skitter Bend, seein' I wus workin' +contract fer him all last summer. An' wot I knows is--nasty. I've +see'd things on that ranch as made me git a tight grip on my axe, an' +long a'mighty hard to bust a few heads in. I've see'd that all-fired +Jake Harnach, the foreman, hammer hell out o' some o' the hands, wi' +tha' blind man standin' by jest as though his gummy eyes could see +what was doin', and I've watched his ugly face workin' wi' every blow +as Jake pounded, 'cos o' the pleasure it give him. I've see'd some o' +those fellers wilter right down an' grovel like yaller dorgs at their +master's feet. I've see'd that butcher-lovin' lot handle their hosses +an' steers like so much dead meat--an' wuss'n. I've see'd hell around +that ranch. 'An' why for,' you asks, 'do their punchers an' hands +stand it?' ''Cos,' I answers quick, 'ther' ain't a job on this +countryside fer 'em after Julian Marbolt's done with 'em.' That's why. +'Wher' wus you workin' around before?' asks a foreman. 'Skitter Bend,' +says the puncher. 'Ain't got nothin' fer you,' says the foreman +quick; 'guess this ain't no butcherin' bizness!' An' that's jest how +it is right thro' with Skitter Bend," Shaky finished up, drenching the +spittoon against the bar with consummate accuracy. + +"Right--dead right," said Twirly, with a laugh. + +"Guess, mebbe, you're prejudiced some," suggested Carney, with an eye +on his visitor. + +"Shaky's taken to book readin'," said Slum, gently. "Guess dime +fiction gits a powerful holt on some folk." + +"Dime fiction y'rself," retorted Shaky, sullenly. "Mebbe young Dave +Steele as come back from ther' with a hole in his head that left him +plumb crazy ever since till he died, 'cos o' some racket he had wi' +Jake--mebbe that's out of a dime fiction. Say, you git right to it, +an' kep on sousin' whisky, Slum Ranks. You ken do that--you can't tell +me 'bout the blind man." + +A pause in the conversation followed while Ike dried some glasses. The +room was getting dark. It was a cheerless den. Tresler was +thoughtfully smoking. He was digesting and sifting what he had heard; +trying to separate fact from fiction in Shaky's story. He felt that +there must be some exaggeration. At last he broke the silence, and all +eyes were turned on him. + +"And do you mean to say there is no law to protect people on these +outlying stations? Do you mean to tell me that men sit down quietly +under such dastardly tyranny?" His questions were more particularly +directed toward Shaky. + +"Law?" replied the carpenter. "Law? Say, we don't rec'nize no law +around these parts--not yet. Mebbe it's comin', but--I 'lows ther's +jest one law at present, an' that we mostly carries on us. Oh, Jake +Harnach's met his match 'fore now. But 'tain't frekent. Yes, Jake's a +big swine, wi' the muscle o' two men; but I've seen him git downed, +and not a hund'ed mile from wher' we're settin'. Say, Ike," he turned +to the man behind the bar, "you ain't like to fergit the night Black +Anton called his 'hand.' Ther' ain't no bluff to Anton. When he gits +to the bizness end of a gun it's best to get your thumbs up sudden." + +The saloon-keeper nodded. "Guess there's one man who's got Jake's +measure, an' that's Black Anton." + +The butcher added a punctuating laugh, while Slum nodded. + +"And who's Black Anton?" asked Tresler of the saloon-keeper. + +"Anton? Wal, I guess he's Marbolt's private hoss keeper. He's a +half-breed. French-Canadian; an' tough. Say, he's jest as quiet an' +easy you wouldn't know he was around. Soft spoken as a woman, an' jest +about as vicious as a rattler. Guess you'll meet him. An' I 'lows he's +meetable--till he's riled." + +"Pleasant sort of man if he can cow this wonderful Jake," observed +Tresler, quietly. + +"Oh, yes, pleasant 'nough," said Ike, mistaking his guest's meaning. + +"The only thing I can't understand 'bout Anton," said Slum, suddenly +becoming interested, "is that he's earnin' his livin' honest. He's too +quiet, an'--an' iley. He sort o' slid into this territory wi'out a +blamed cit'zen of us knowin'. We've heerd tell of him sence from +'crost the border, an' the yarns ain't nice. I don't figger to argue +wi' strangers at no time, an' when Anton's around I don't never git +givin' no opinion till he's done talkin', when I mostly find mine's +the same as his." + +"Some folks ain't got no grit," growled Shaky, contemptuously. + +"An' some folk 'a' got so much grit they ain't got no room fer savee," +rapped in Slum sharply. + +"Meanin' me," said Shaky, sitting up angrily. + +"I 'lows you've got grit," replied the little man quietly, looking +squarely into the big man's eyes. + +"Go to h----" + +"Guess I'd as lief be in Forks; it's warmer," replied Slum, +imperturbably. + +"Stow yer gas! You nag like a widder as can't git a second man." + +"Which wouldn't happen wi' folk o' your kidney around." + +Shaky was on his feet in an instant, and his anger was blazing in his +fierce eyes. + +"Say, you gorl----" + +"Set right ther', Shaky," broke in Slum, as the big man sprang toward +him. "Set right ther'; ther' ain't goin' to be no hoss-play." + +Slum Ranks had not shifted his position, but his right hand had dived +into his jacket pocket and his eyes flashed ominously. And the +carpenter dropped back into his seat without a word. + +And Tresler looked on in amazement. It was all so quick, so sudden. +There had hardly been a breathing space between the passing of their +good-nature and their swift-rising anger. The strangeness of it all, +the lawlessness, fascinated him. He knew he was on the fringe of +civilization, but he had had no idea of how sparse and short that +fringe was. He thought that civilization depended on the presence of +white folk. That, of necessity, white folk must themselves have the +instincts of civilization. + +Here he saw men, apparently good comrades all, who were ready, on the +smallest provocation, to turn and rend each other. It was certainly a +new life to him, something that perhaps he had vaguely dreamt of, but +the possibility of the existence of which he had never seriously +considered. + +But, curiously enough, as he beheld these things for himself for the +first time, they produced no shock, they disturbed him in nowise. It +all seemed so natural. More, it roused in him a feeling that such +things should be. Possibly this feeling was due to his own upbringing, +which had been that of an essentially athletic university. He even +felt the warm blood surge through his veins at the prospect of a +forcible termination to the two men's swift passage of arms. + +But the ebullition died out as quickly as it had risen. Slum slid from +the bar to the ground, and his deep-set eyes were smiling again. + +"Pshaw," he said, with a careless shrug, "ther' ain't nothin' to grit +wi'out savee." + +Shaky rose and stretched himself as though nothing had happened to +disturb the harmony of the meeting. The butcher relinquished his hold +on the bar and moved across to the window. + +"Guess the missis'll be shoutin' around fer you fellers to git your +suppers," Slum observed cheerfully. Then he turned to Tresler. "Ike, +here, don't run no boarders. Mebbe you'd best git around to my shack. +Sally'll fix you up with a blanket or two, an' the grub ain't bad. You +see, I run a boardin'-house fer the boys--leastways, Sally does." + +And Tresler adopted the suggestion. He had no choice but to do so. +Anyway, he was quite satisfied with the arrangement. He had entered +the life of the prairie and was more than willing to adopt its ways +and its people. + +And the recollection of that first night in Forks remained with him +when the memory of many subsequent nights had passed from him. It +stuck to him as only the first strong impressions of a new life can. + +He met Sally Ranks--she was two sizes too large for the dining-room of +the boarding-house--who talked in a shrieking nasal manner that cut +the air like a knife, and who heaped the plates with coarse food that +it was well to have a good appetite to face. He dined for the first +time in his life at a table that had no cloth, and devoured his food +with the aid of a knife and fork that had never seen a burnish since +they had first entered the establishment, and drank boiled tea out of +a tin cup that had once been enameled. He was no longer John Tresler, +fresh from the New England States, but one of fourteen boarders, the +majority of whom doubled the necessary length of their sentences when +they conversed by reason of an extensive vocabulary of blasphemy, and +picked their teeth with their forks. + +But it was pleasant to him. He was surrounded by something approaching +the natural man. Maybe they were drawn from the dregs of society, but +nevertheless they had forcibly established their right to live--a +feature that had lifted them from the ruck of thousands of law-abiding +citizens. He experienced a friendly feeling for these ruffians. More, +he had a certain respect for them. + +After supper many of them drifted back to their recreation-ground, the +saloon. Tresler, although he had no inclination for drink, would have +done the same. He wished to see more of the people, to study them as a +man who wishes to prepare himself for a new part. But the quiet Slum +drew him back and talked gently to him; and he listened. + +"Say, Tresler," the little man remarked offhandedly, "ther's three +fellers lookin' fer a gamble. Two of 'em ain't a deal at 'draw,' the +other's pretty neat. I tho't, mebbe, you'd notion a hand up here wi' +us. It's better'n loafin' down 't the saloon. We most gener'ly play a +dollar limit." + +And so it was arranged. Tresler stayed. He was initiated. He learned +the result of a game of "draw" in Forks, where the players made the +whole game of life a gamble, and attained a marked proficiency in the +art. + +The result was inevitable. By midnight there were four richer citizens +in Forks, and a newcomer who was poorer by his change out of a +hundred-dollar bill. But Tresler lost quite cheerfully. He never +really knew how it was he lost, whether it was his bad play or bad +luck. He was too tired and sleepy long before the game ended. He +realized next morning, when he came to reflect, that in some +mysterious manner he had been done. However, he took his initiation +philosophically, making only a mental reservation for future guidance. + +That night he slept on a palliasse of straw, with a pillow consisting +of a thin bolster propped on his outer clothes. Three very yellow +blankets made up the tally of comfort. And the whole was spread out on +the floor of a room in which four other men were sleeping noisily. + +After breakfast he paid his bill, and, procuring his horse, prepared +for departure. His first acquaintance in Forks stood his friend to the +last. Slum it was who looked round his horse to see that the girths of +the saddle were all right; Slum it was who praised the beast in quiet, +critical tones; Slum it was who shook him by the hand and wished him +luck; Slum it was who gave him a parting word of advice; just as it +was Slum who had first met him with ridicule, cared for him--at a +price--during his sojourn, and quietly robbed him at a game he knew +little about. And Tresler, with the philosophy of a man who has that +within him which must make for achievement, smiled, shook hands +heartily and with good will, and quietly stored up the wisdom he had +acquired in his first night in Forks Settlement. + +"Say, Tresler," exclaimed Slum, kindly, as he wrung his departing +guest's hand, "I'm real glad I've met you. I 'lows, comin' as you did, +you might 'a' run dead into some durned skunk as hadn't the manners +for dealin' with a hog. There's a hatful of 'em in Forks. S'long. Say, +ther's a gal at Skitter Bend. She's the ol' blind boss's daughter, an' +she's a dandy. But don't git sparkin' her wi' the ol' man around." + +Tresler laughed. Slum amused him. + +"Good-bye," he said. "Your kindness has taken a load--off my mind. I +know more than I did yesterday morning. No, I won't get sparking the +girl with the old man around. See you again some time." + +And he passed out of Forks. + +"That feller's a decent--no, he's a gentleman," muttered Slum, staring +after the receding horseman. "Guess Skitter Bend's jest about the +place fer him. He'll bob out on top like a cork in a water bar'l. Say, +Jake Harnach'll git his feathers trimmed or I don't know a +'deuce-spot' from a 'straight flush.'" + +Which sentiment spoke volumes for his opinion of the man who had just +left him. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +MOSQUITO BEND + + +Forks died away in a shimmering haze of heat as Tresler rode out over +the hard prairie trail. Ten miles they had told him it was to Mosquito +Bend; a ten-mile continuation of the undulating plains he had now +grown accustomed to. He allowed his horse to take it leisurely. There +was no great hurry for an early arrival. + +John Tresler had done what many an enterprising youngster from the New +England States has done since. At the age of twenty-five, finding +himself, after his university career at Harvard, with an excellent +training in all athletics, particularly boxing and wrestling and all +those games pertaining to the noble art of self-defense, but with only +a limited proficiency in matters relating to the earning of an +adequate living, he had decided to break new ground for himself on the +prairie-lands of the West. Stock-raising was his object, and, to this +end, he had sought out a ranch where he could thoroughly master the +craft before embarking on his own enterprise. + +It was through official channels that he had heard of Mosquito Bend as +one of the largest ranches in the country at the time, and he had at +once entered into negotiations with the owner, Julian Marbolt, for a +period of instruction. His present journey was the result. + +He thought a good deal as his horse ambled over that ten miles. He +weighed the stories he had heard from Shaky, and picked them +threadbare. He reduced his efforts to a few pointed conclusions. +Things were decidedly rough at Mosquito Bend. Probably the brutality +was a case of brute force pitted against brute force--he had taken +into consideration the well-known disposition of the Western +cowpuncher--and, as such, a matter of regretable necessity for the +governing of the place. Shaky had in some way fallen foul of the +master and foreman and had allowed personal feelings to warp his +judgment. And, lastly, taking his "greenness" into account, he had +piled up the agony simply from the native love of the "old hand" for +scaring a newcomer. + +Tresler was no weakling or he would never have set out to shape his +own course as he was now doing. He was a man of considerable purpose, +self-reliant and reasonable, with sufficient easy good-nature to be +compatible with strength. He liked his own experiences too, though he +never scorned the experiences of another. Slum had sized him up pretty +shrewdly when he said "he'll bob out on top like a cork in a water +bar'l," but he had not altogether done him full justice. + +The southwestern trail headed slantwise for the mountains, which snowy +barrier bounded his vision to the west the whole of his journey. He +had watched the distant white-capped ramparts until their novelty had +worn off, and now he took their presence as a matter of course. His +eyes came back to the wide, almost limitless plains about him, and he +longed for the sight of a tree, a river, even a cultivated patch of +nodding wheat. But there was just nothing but the lank, tawny grass +for miles and miles, and the blazing sunlight that scorched him and +baked gray streaks of dusty sweat on his horse's shoulders and flanks. + +He rode along dreaming, as no doubt hundreds of others have dreamt +before and since. There was nothing new or original about his dreams, +for he was not a man given to romance. He was too direct and practical +for that. No, his were just the thoughts of a young man who has left +his home, which thereby gains in beauty as distance lends enchantment +to it, and kindly recollection crowns it with a glory that it could +never in reality possess. + +Without indication or warning, he came upon one of those strangely +hidden valleys in which the prairie near the Rockies abounds. He found +himself at the edge of it, gazing down upon a wide woodland-bound +river, which wound away to the east and west like the trail of some +prehistoric monster. The murmur of the flowing waters came to him with +such a suggestion of coolness and shade that, for the first time on +his long journey from Whitewater, he was made to forget the park-like +beauties of his own native land. + +There was a delightful variation of color in the foliage down there. +Such a density of shadow, such a brilliancy. And a refreshing breeze +was rustling over the tree-tops, a breath he had longed for on the +plains but had never felt. The opposite side was lower. He stood on a +sort of giant step. A wall that divided the country beyond from the +country he was leaving. A wall that seemed to isolate those who might +live down there and shut them out as though theirs was another world. + +He touched his horse's flanks, and, with careful, stilted steps, the +animal began the descent. And now he speculated as to the whereabouts +of the ranch, for he knew that this was the Mosquito River, and +somewhere upon its banks stood his future home. As he thought of this +he laughed. His future home; well, judging by what he had been told, +it would certainly possess the charm of novelty. + +He was forced to give up further speculation for a while. The trail +descended so sharply that his horse had to sidle down it, and the +loose shingle under its feet set it sliding and slipping dangerously. + +In a quarter of an hour he drew up on the river bank and looked about +him. Whither? That was the question. He was at four crossroads. East +and west, along the river bank; and north and south, the way he had +come and across the water. + +Along the bank the woods were thick and dark, and the trail split them +like the aisle of an aged Gothic church. The surface of red sand was +hard, but there were marks of traffic upon it. Then he looked across +the river at the distant rolling plains. + +"Of course," he said aloud. "Who's going to build a ranch on this +side? Where could the cattle run?" + +And he put his horse at the water and waded across without further +hesitation. Beyond the river the road bent away sharply to the right, +and cut through a wide avenue of enormous pine trees, and along this +he bustled his horse. Half a mile further on the avenue widened. The +solemn depths about him lightened, and patches of sunlight shone down +into them and lit up the matted underlay of rotting cones and +pine-needles which covered the earth. + +The road bent sharply away from the river, revealing a scrub of low +bush decorated with a collection of white garments, evidently set out +to dry. His horse shied at the unusual sight, and furthermore took +exception to the raucous sound of a man's voice chanting a dismal +melody, somewhere away down by the river on his right. + +In this direction he observed a cattle-path. And the sight of it +suggested ascertaining the identity of the doleful minstrel. No doubt +this man could give him the information he needed. He turned off the +road and plunged into scrub. And at the river bank he came upon a +curious scene. There was a sandy break in the bush, and the bank +sloped gradually to the water's edge. Three or four wash-tubs, +grouped together in a semicircle, stood on wooden trestles, and a +quaint-looking little man was bending over one of them washing +clothes, rubbing and beating a handful of garments on a board like any +washerwoman. His back was turned to the path, and he faced the river. +On his right stood an iron furnace and boiler, with steam escaping +from under the lid. And all around him the bushes were hung with +drying clothes. + +"Hello!" cried Tresler, as he slipped to the ground. + +"Holy smoke!" + +The scrubbing and banging had ceased, and the most curiously twisted +face Tresler had ever seen glanced back over the man's bowed shoulder. +A red, perspiring face, tufted at the point of the chin with a knot of +gray whisker, a pair of keen gray eyes, and a mouth--yes, it was the +mouth that held Tresler's attention. It went up on one side, and had +somehow got mixed up with his cheek, while a suggestion of it was +continued by means of a dark red scar right up to the left eye. + +For a second or two Tresler could not speak, he was so astonished, so +inclined to laugh. And all the while the gray eyes took him in from +head to foot; then another exclamation, even more awestruck, broke +from the stranger. + +"Gee-whizz!" + +And Tresler sobered at once. + +"Where's Mosquito Bend Ranch?" he asked. + +The little man dropped his washing and turned round, propping himself +against the edge of the tub. + +"Skitter Bend Ranch?" he echoed slowly, as though the meaning of the +question had not penetrated to his intellect. Then a subdued whisper +followed. "Gee, but I----" And he looked down at his own clothes as +though to reassure himself. + +Tresler broke in; he understood the trend of the other's thoughts. + +"Yes, Mosquito Bend," he said sharply. + +"Nigh to a mile on. Keep to the trail, an' you'll strike Blind Hell in +a few minutes. Say----" He broke off, and looked up into Tresler's +face. + +"Yes, I'm going there. You don't happen to belong to--to Blind Hell?" + +"Happen I do," assured the washerman. "I do the chores around the +ranch. Joe Nelson, once a stock raiser m'self. Kerrville, Texas. +Now----" He broke off, and waved a hand in the direction of the drying +clothes. + +"Well, I'm John Tresler, and I'm on my way to Mosquito Bend." + +"So you're the 'tenderfoot,'" observed the choreman, musingly. "You're +the feller from Noo England as Jake's goin' to lick into shape." + +"Going to teach, you mean." + +"I s'pose I do," murmured the other gently, but without conviction. +The twisted side of his face wrinkled hideously, while the other side +smiled. + +"You mentioned Blind Hell just now?" questioned Tresler, as the other +relapsed into a quiet survey of him. + +"Blind Hell, did I?" said Nelson, repeating the name, a manner which +seemed to be a habit of his. + +"Yes. What is it? What did you mean?" + +Tresler's questions were a little peremptory. He felt that the +riding-breeches that had caused such notice in Forks were likely to +bring him further ridicule. + +"Oh, it's jest a name. 'Tain't of no consequence. Say," the choreman +broke out suddenly, "you don't figger to git boostin' steers in that +rig?" He stretched out an abnormally long arm, and pointed a rough but +wonderfully clean finger at the flowing corduroys Tresler had now +become so sensitive about. + +"Great Scott, man!" he let out testily. "Have you never seen +riding-breeches before?--you, a ranchman." + +The tufted beard shot sideways again as the face screwed up and half +of it smiled. + +"I do allow I've seen such things before. Oncet," he drawled slowly, +with a slight Southern accent, but in a manner that betokened a speech +acquired by association rather than the natural tongue. "He was a +feller that came out to shoot big game up in the hills. I ain't seen +him sence, sure. Guess nobody did." He looked away sadly. "We heerd +tell of him. Guess he got fossicking after b'ar. The wind was blowin' +ter'ble. He'd climbed a mount'n. It was pretty high. Ther' wa'n't no +shelter. A gust o' that wind come an'--took him." + +Nelson had turned back to his tubs, and was again banging and rubbing. + +"A mile down the trail, I think you said?" Tresler cried, springing +hastily into the saddle. + +"Sure." + +And for the first time Tresler's horse felt the sharp prick of the +spurs as he rode off. + +Mosquito Bend Ranch stood in a wide clearing, with the house on a +rising ground above it. It was lined at the back by a thick pinewood. +For the rest the house faced out on to the prairie, and the verandahed +front overlooked the barns, corrals, and outhouses. It stood apart, +fully one hundred yards from the nearest outbuildings. + +This was the first impression Tresler obtained on arrival. The second +was that it was a magnificent ranch and the proprietor must be a +wealthy man. The third was one of disappointment; everything was so +quiet, so still. There was no rush or bustle. No horsemen riding +around with cracking whips; no shouting, no atmosphere of wildness. +And, worst of all, there were no droves of cattle tearing around. Just +a few old milch cows near by, peacefully grazing their day away, and +philosophically awaiting milking time. These, and a few dogs, a horse +or two loose in the corrals, and a group of men idling outside a low, +thatched building, comprised the life he first beheld as he rode into +the clearing. + +"And this is Blind Hell," he said to himself as he came. "It belies +its name. A more peaceful, beautiful picture, I've never clapped eyes +on." + +And then his thoughts went back to Forks. That too had looked so +innocent. After all, he remembered, it was the people who made or +marred a place. + +So he rode straight to a small, empty corral, and, off-saddling, +turned his horse loose, and deposited his saddle and bridle in the +shadow of the walls. Then he moved up toward the buildings where the +men were grouped. + +They eyed him steadily as he came, much as they might eye a strange +animal, and he felt a little uncomfortable as he recollected his +encounter first with Slum and more recently with Joe Nelson. He had +grown sensitive about his appearance, and a spirit of defiance and +retaliation awoke within him. + +But for some reason the men paid little attention to him just then. +One man was talking, and the rest were listening with rapt interest. +They were cowpunchers, every one. Cowpunchers such as Tresler had +heard of. Some were still wearing their fringed "chapps," their waists +belted with gun and ammunition; some were in plain overalls and thin +cotton shirts. All, except one, were tanned a dark, ruddy hue, +unshaven, unkempt, but tough-looking and hardy. The pale-faced +exception was a thin, sick-looking fellow with deep hollows under his +eyes, and lips as ashen as a corpse. He it was who was talking, and +his recital demanded a great display of dramatic gesture. + +Tresler came up and joined the group. "I never ast to git put up +ther'," he heard the sick man saying; "never ast, an' didn't want. It +was her doin's, an' I tell you fellers right here she's jest thet +serrupy an' good as don't matter. I'd 'a' rotted down here wi' flies +an' the heat for all they'd 'a' cared. That blind son of a ---- 'ud +'a' jest laffed ef I'd handed over, an' Jake--say, we'll level our +score one day, sure. Next time Red Mask, or any other hoss thief, gits +around, I'll bear a hand drivin' off the bunch. I ain't scrappin' no +more fer the blind man. Look at me. Guess I ain't no more use'n yon +'tenderfoot.'" The speaker pointed scornfully at Tresler, and his +audience turned and looked. "Guess I've lost quarts o' blood, an' have +got a hole in my chest ye couldn't plug with a corn-sack. An' now, +jest when I'm gittin' to mend decent, he comes an' boosts me right out +to the bunkhouse 'cause he ketches me yarnin' wi' that bit of a gal o' +his. But, say, she just let out on him that neat as you fellers never +heerd. Yes, sir, guess her tongue's like velvet mostly, but when she +turned on that blind hulk of a father of hers--wal, ther', ef I was a +cat an' had nine lives to give fer her they jest wouldn't be enough by +a hund'ed." + +"Say, Arizona," said one of the men quietly, "what was you yarnin' +'bout? Guess you allus was sweet on Miss Dianny." + +Arizona turned on the speaker fiercely. "That'll do fer you, Raw; +mebbe you ain't got savee, an' don't know a leddy when you sees one. +I'm a cow-hand, an' good as any man around here, an' ef you've any +doubts about it, why----" + +"Don't take no notice, Arizona," put in a lank youth quickly. He was a +tall, hungry-looking boy, in that condition of physical development +when nature seems in some doubt as to her original purpose. "'E's only +laffin' at you." + +"Guess Mister Raw Harris ken quit right here then, Teddy. I ain't +takin' his slack noways." + +"Git on with the yarn, Arizona," cried another. "Say, wot was you +sayin' to the gal?" + +"Y' see, Jacob," the sick man went on, falling back into his drawling +manner, "it wus this ways. Miss Dianny, she likes a feller to git +yarnin', an', seein' as I've been punchin' most all through the +States, she kind o' notioned my yarns. Which I 'lows is reasonable. +She'd fixed my chest up, an' got me trussed neat an' all, an' set +right down aside me fer a gas. You know her ways, kind o' sad an' +saft. Wal, she up an' tells me how she'd like gittin' in to Whitewater +next winter, an' talked o' dances an' sech. Say, she wus jest +whoopin' wi' the pleasure o' the tho't of it. Guess likely she'd be +mighty pleased to git a-ways. Wal, I don't jest know how it come, but +I got yarnin' of a barbecue as was held down Arizona way. I was +tellin' as how I wus ther', an' got winged nasty. It wa'n't much. Y' +see I was tellin' her as I wus runnin' a bit of a hog ranch them +times, an', on o-casions, we used to give parties. The pertickler +party I wus referrin' to wus a pretty wholesome racket. The boys got +good an' drunk, an' they got slingin' the lead frekent 'fore daylight +come around. Howsum, it wus the cause o' the trouble as I wus gassin' +'bout. Y' see, Brown was one of them juicy fellers that chawed hunks +o' plug till you could nose Virginny ev'ry time you got wi'in gunshot +of him. He was a cantankerous cuss was Brown, an' a deal too free wi' +his tongue. Y' see he'd a lady with him; leastways she wus the +pot-wolloper from the saloon he favored, an' he guessed as she wus +most as han'some as a Bible 'lustration. Wal, 'bout the time the +rotgut wus flowin' good an' frekent, they started in to pool fer the +prettiest wench in the room, as is the custom down ther'. Brown, he +wus dead set on his gal winnin', I guess; an' 'Dyke Hole' Bill, he'd +got a pretty tidy filly wi' him hisself, an' didn't reckon as no daisy +from a bum saloon could gi' her any sort o' start. Wal, to cut it +short, I guess the boys went dead out fer Bill's gal. It wus voted as +ther' wa'n't no gal around Spawn City as could dec'rate the country +wi' sech beauty. I guess things went kind o' silent when Shaggy Steele +read the ballot. The air o' that place got uneasy. I located the door +in one gulp. Y' see Brown was allus kind o' sudden. But the trouble +come diff'rent. The thing jest dropped, an' that party hummed fer a +whiles. Brown's gal up an' let go. Sez she, 'Here, guess I'm the dandy +o' this run, an' I ain't settin' around while no old hen from Dyke +Hole gits scoopin' prizes. She's goin' to lick me till I can't see, ef +she's yearnin' fer that pool. Mebbe you boys won't need more'n half an +eye to locate the winner when I'm done.' Wi' that she peels her waist +off'n her, an' I do allow she wus a fine chunk. An' the 'Dyke Hole' +daisy, she wa'n't no slouch; guess she wus jest bustin' wi' fight. But +Brown sticks his taller-fat nose in an' shoots his bazzoo an'---- + +"An' that's most as fer as I got when along comes that all-fired +'dead-eyes' an' points warnin' at me while he ogled me with them gummy +red rims o' his. An', sez he, 'You light right out o' here sharp, +Arizona; the place fer you scum's down in the bunkhouse. An' I'm not +goin' to have any skulkin' up here, telling disreputable yarns to my +gal.' I wus jest beginnin' to argyfy. 'But,' sez I. An' he cut me +short wi' a curse. 'Out of here!' he roared. 'I give you ten minutes +to git!' Then she, Miss Dianny, bless her, she turned on him quick, +an' dressed him down han'some. Sez she, 'Father, how can you be so +unkind after what Arizona has done for you? Remember,' sez she, 'he +saved you a hundred head of cattle, and fought Red Mask's gang until +help came and he fell from his horse.' Oh, she was a dandy, and heaped +it on like bankin' a furnace. She cried lots an' lots, but it didn't +signify. Out I wus to git, an' out I got. An' now I'll gamble that +swine Jake'll try and set me to work. But I'll level him--sure." + +One of the men, Lew Cawley, laughed silently, and then put in a +remark. Lew was a large specimen of the fraternity, and history said +that he was the son of an English cleric. But history says similar +things of many ne'er-do-wells in the Northwest. He still used the +accent of his forebears. + +"Old blind-hunks knows something. With all respect, Arizona has +winning ways; but," he added, before the fiery Southerner could +retort, "if I mistake not, here comes Jake to fulfil Arizona's +prophecy." + +Every one swung round as Lew nodded in the direction of the house. A +huge man of about six feet five was striding rapidly down the slope. +Tresler, who had been listening to the story on the outskirts of the +group, eyed the newcomer with wonder. He came at a gait in which every +movement displayed a vast, monumental strength. He had never seen such +physique in his life. The foreman was still some distance off, and he +could not see his face, only a great spread of black beard and +whisker. So this was the much-cursed Jake Harnach, and, he thought +without any particular pleasure, his future boss. + +There was no further talk. Jake Harnach looked up and halted. Then he +signaled, and a great shout came to the waiting group. + +"Hi! hi! you there! You with the pants!" + +A snigger went round the gathering, and Tresler knew that it was he +who was being summoned. He turned away to hide his annoyance, but was +given no chance of escape. + +"Say, send that guy with the pants along!" roared the foreman. And +Tresler was forced into unwilling compliance. + +And thus the two men, chiefly responsible for the telling of this +story of Mosquito Bend, met. The spirit of the meeting was +antagonistic; a spirit which, in the days to come, was to develop into +a merciless hatred. Nor was the reason far to seek, nor could it have +been otherwise. Jake looked out upon the world through eyes that +distorted everything to suit his own brutal nature, while Tresler's +simple manliness was the result of his youthful training as a public +schoolboy. + +The latter saw before him a man of perhaps thirty-five, a man of +gigantic stature, with a face handsome in its form of features, but +disfigured by the harsh depression of the black brows over a pair of +hard, bold eyes. The lower half of his face was buried beneath a beard +so dense and black as to utterly disguise the mould of his mouth and +chin, thus leaving only the harsh tones of his voice as a clue to what +lay hidden there. + +His dress was unremarkable but typical--moleskin trousers, a thin +cotton shirt, a gray tweed jacket, and a silk handkerchief about his +neck. He carried nothing in the shape of weapons, not even the usual +leather belt and sheath-knife. And in this he was apart from the +method of his country, where the use of firearms was the practice in +disputes. + +On his part, Jake looked upon a well-built man five inches his +inferior in stature, but a man of good proportions, with a pair of +shoulders that suggested possibilities. But it was the steady look in +the steel-blue eyes which told him most. There was a simple directness +in them which told of a man unaccustomed to any browbeating; and, as +he gazed into them, he made a mental note that this newcomer must be +reduced to a proper humility at the earliest opportunity. + +There was no pretense of courtesy between them. Neither offered to +shake hands. Jake blurted out his greeting in a vicious tone. + +"Say, didn't you hear me callin'?" he asked sharply. + +"I did." And the New Englander looked quietly into the eyes before +him, but without the least touch of bravado or of yielding. + +"Then why in h---- didn't you come?" + +"I was not to know you were calling me." + +"Not to know?" retorted the other roughly. "I guess there aren't two +guys with pants like yours around the ranch. Now, see right here, +young feller, you'll just get a grip on the fact that I'm foreman of +this layout, and, as far as the 'hands' are concerned, I'm boss. When +I call, you come--and quick." + +The man towered over Tresler in a bristling attitude. His hands were +aggressively thrust into his jacket pockets, and he emphasized his +final words with a scowl. And it was his attitude that roused Tresler; +the words were the words of an overweening bully, and might have been +laughed at, but the attitude said more, and no man likes to be +browbeaten. His anger leapt, and, though he held himself tightly, it +found expression in the biting emphasis of his reply. + +"When I'm one of the 'hands,' yes," he said incisively. + +Jake stared. Then a curious sort of smile flitted across his features. + +"Hah!" he ejaculated. + +And Tresler went on with cold indifference. "And, in the meantime, I +may as well say that the primary object of my visit is to see Mr. +Marbolt, not his foreman. That, I believe," he added, pointing to the +building on the hill, "is his house." + +Without waiting for a reply he stepped aside, and would have moved on. +But Jake had swung round, and his hand fell heavily upon his shoulder. + +"No, you don't, my dandy cock!" he cried violently, his fingers +painfully gripping the muscle under the Norfolk jacket. + +Springing aside, and with one lithe twist, in a flash Tresler had +released himself, and stood confronting the giant with blazing eyes +and tense drawn muscles. + +"Lay a hand on me again, and there'll be trouble," he said sharply, +and there was an oddly furious burr in his speech. + +The foreman stood for a moment as words failed him. Then his fury +broke loose. + +"I told you jest now," he cried, falling back into the twang of the +country as his rage mastered him, "that I run this layout----" + +"And I tell you," broke in the equally angry Tresler, "that I've +nothing to do with you or the ranch either until I have seen your +master. And I'll have you know that if there's any bulldozing to be +done, you can keep it until I am one of the 'hands.' You shan't lack +opportunity." + +The tone was as scathing as the violence of his anger would permit. He +had not moved, except to thrust his right hand into his jacket pocket, +while he measured the foreman with his eyes and watched his every +movement. + +He saw Harnach hunch himself as though to spring at him. He saw the +great hands clench at his sides and his arms draw up convulsively. He +saw the working face and the black eyes as they half closed and +reduced themselves to mere slits beneath the overshadowing brows. Then +the hoarse, rage-choked voice came. + +"By G----! I'll smash you, you----" + +"I shouldn't say it." Tresler's tone had suddenly changed to one of +icy coldness. The flash of a white dress had caught his eye. "There's +a lady present," he added abruptly. And at the same time he released +his hold on the smooth butt of a heavy revolver he had been gripping +in his pocket. + +What might have happened but for the timely interruption it would be +impossible to say. Jake's arms dropped to his sides, and his attitude +relaxed with a suddenness that was almost ludicrous. The white dress +fluttered toward him, and Tresler turned and raised his prairie hat. +He gave the foreman no heed whatever. The man might never have been +there. He took a step forward. + +"Miss Marbolt, I believe," he said. "Forgive me, but it seems that, +being a stranger, I must introduce myself. I am John Tresler. I have +just been performing the same ceremony for your father's foreman's +benefit. Can I see Mr. Marbolt?" + +He was looking down into what he thought at the moment was the +sweetest, saddest little face he had ever seen. It was dark with +sunburn, in contrast with the prim white drill dress the girl wore, +and her cheeks were tinged with a healthy color which might have been +a reflection of the rosy tint of the ribbon about her neck. But it was +the quiet, dark brown eyes, half wistful and wholly sad, and the +slight droop at the corners of the pretty mouth, that gave him his +first striking impression. She was a delightful picture, but one of +great melancholy, quite out of keeping with her youth and fresh +beauty. + +She looked up at him from under the brim of a wide straw sun-hat, +trimmed with a plain silk handkerchief, and pinned to her wealth of +curling brown hair so as to give her face the utmost shade. Then she +frankly held out her hand in welcome to him, whilst her eyes +questioned his, for she had witnessed the scene between the two men +and overheard their words. But Tresler listened to her greeting with a +disarming smile on his face. + +"Welcome, Mr. Tresler," she said gravely. "We have been expecting you. +But I'm afraid you can't see father just now. He's sleeping. He always +sleeps in the afternoon. You see, daylight or night, it makes no +difference to him. He's blind. He has drifted into a curious habit of +sleeping in the day as well as at night. Possibly it is a blessing, +and helps him to forget his affliction. I am always careful, in +consequence, not to waken him. But come along up to the house; you +must have some lunch, and, later, a cup of tea." + +"You are awfully kind." + +Tresler watched a troubled look that crept into the calm expression of +her eyes. Then he looked on while she turned and dismissed the +discomfited foreman. + +"I shan't ride this afternoon, Jake," she said coldly. "You might have +Bessie shod for me instead. Her hoofs are getting very long." Then she +turned again to her guest. "Come, Mr. Tresler." + +And the New Englander readily complied. + +Nor did he even glance again in the direction of the foreman. + +Jake cursed, not audibly, but with such hateful intensity that even +the mat of beard and moustache parted, and the cruel mouth and +clenched teeth beneath were revealed. His eyes, too, shone with a +diabolical light. For the moment Tresler was master of the situation, +but, as Jake had said, he was "boss" of that ranch. "Boss" with him +did not mean "owner." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE BLIND MAN + + +Tresler was unfeignedly glad to leave Jake Harnach behind him, but he +looked very serious as he and his companion moved on to the house. The +result of his meeting with the foreman would come back on him later, +he knew, and it was as well that he was prepared. The meeting had been +unfortunate, but, judging by what he had heard of Jake in Forks, he +must inevitably have crossed the bully sooner or later; Jake himself +would have seen to that. + +Diane Marbolt paused as she came to the verandah. They had not spoken +since their greeting. Now she turned abruptly, and quietly surveyed +her guest. Nor was there any rudeness in her look. Tresler felt that +he was undergoing a silent cross-examination, and waited, quietly +smiling down at her from his superior height. + +At last she smiled up at him and nodded. + +"Will I do?" he asked. + +"I think so." + +It was a curious position, and they both laughed. But in the girl's +manner there was no levity. + +"You are not sure? Is there anything wrong about me? My--my dress, for +instance?" Tresler laughed again; he had missed the true significance +of his companion's attitude toward him. + +Just for a moment the dark little face took on a look of perplexity. +Then the pucker of the brows smoothed out, and she smiled demurely as +she answered. + +"Oh, I see--no," doubtfully. Then more decidedly, "No. You see, you +are a 'tenderfoot.' You'll get over it later on." + +And the last barrier of formality was set aside. + +"Good," exclaimed Tresler, emphatically. "We are going to be friends, +Miss Marbolt. I knew it. It was only that I feared that 'they' might +ruin my chances of your approbation. You see, they've already caused +me--er--trouble." + +"Yes, I think we shall be friends," Diane answered quietly. "In the +meantime, come along into the house and have your lunch. It is ready, +I saw you coming and so prepared it at once. You will not mind if I +sit and look on while you eat. I have had mine. I want to talk to you +before you see my father." + +There was distinct anxiety in her manner. More surely than all, her +eyes betrayed her uneasiness. However, he gave no sign, contenting +himself with a cordial reply. + +"You are very kind. I too should like a chat. You see, I am a +'tenderfoot,' and you have been kind enough to pass over my +shortcomings." + +Diane led the way into the house. And Tresler, following her, was +struck with the simple comfort of this home in the wilds. It was a +roomy two-storied house, unpretentious, but very capacious. They +entered through one of three French windows what was evidently a +useful sort of drawing-room-parlor. Beyond this they crossed a +hallway, the entrance door of which stood open, and passed into a +dining-room, which, in its turn, opened directly into a kitchen +beyond. This room looked out on the woods at the back. Diane explained +that her father's sanctum was in front of this, while behind the +parlor was his bedroom, opposite the dining-room and kitchen. The +rooms up-stairs were bedrooms, and her own private parlor. + +"You see, we keep no female servants, Mr. Tresler," the girl said, as +she brought a pot of steaming coffee from the kitchen and set it on +the table. "I am housekeeper. Joe Nelson, the choreman, is my helper +and does all the heavy work. He's quite a character." + +"Yes, I know. I've met him," observed Tresler, dryly. + +"Ah! Try that ham. I don't know about the cold pie, it may be tough. +Yes, old Joe is an Englishman; at least, he was, but he's quite +Americanized now. He spent forty years in Texas. He's really an +educated man. Owned a nice ranch and got burned out. I'm very fond of +him; but it isn't of Joe I want to talk." + +"No." + +The man helped himself to the ham and veal pie, and found it anything +but tough. + +Diane seated herself in a chair with her back to the uncurtained +window, through which the early summer sun was staring. + +"You have met Jake Harnach and made an enemy of him," she said +suddenly, and with simple directness. + +"Yes; the latter must have come anyway." + +The girl sighed, and her eyes shone with a brooding light. And +Tresler, glancing at her, recognized the sadness of expression he had +noticed at their first meeting, and which, he was soon to learn, was +habitual to her. + +"I suppose so," she murmured in response. Then she roused herself, and +spoke almost sharply. "What would you have done had he struck you? He +is a man of colossal strength." + +Tresler laughed easily. "That depends. I'm not quite sure. I should +probably have done my best to retaliate. I had an alternative. I might +have shot him." + +"Oh!" the girl said with impulsive horror. + +"Well, what would you have?" Tresler raised his eyebrows and turned +his astonished eyes upon her. "Was I to stand lamb-like and accept a +thrashing from that unconscionable ruffian? No, no," he shook his +head. "I see it in your eyes. You condemn the method, but not the man. +Remember, we all have a right to live--if we can. Maybe there's no +absolute necessity that we should, but still we are permitted to do +our best. That's the philosophy I've had hammered into me with the +various thrashings the school bullies at home have from time to time +administered. I should certainly have done my best." + +"And if you had done either of these things, I shudder to think what +would have happened. It was unfortunate, terribly unfortunate. You do +not know Jake Harnach. Oh, Mr. Tresler," the girl hurried on, leaning +suddenly forward in her chair, and reaching out until her small brown +hand rested on his arm, "please, please promise me that you won't run +foul of Jake. He is terrible. You don't, you can't know him, or you +would understand your danger." + +"On the contrary, Miss Marbolt. It is because I know a great deal of +him that I should be ready to retaliate very forcibly. I thank my +stars I do know him. Had I not known of him before, your own words +would have warned me to be ready for all emergencies. Jake must go his +way and I'll go mine. I am here to learn ranching, not to submit to +any bulldozing. But let us forget Jake for the moment, and talk of +something more pleasant. What a charming situation the ranch has!" + +The girl dropped back in her chair. There was no mistaking the +decision of her visitor's words. She felt that no persuasion of hers +could alter him. With an effort she contrived to answer him. + +"Yes, it is a beautiful spot. You have not yet had time to appreciate +the perfections of our surroundings." She paused for him to speak, but +as he remained silent she labored on with her thoughts set on other +things. "The foot-hills come right down almost to our very doors. And +then in the distance, above them, are the white caps of the mountains. +We are sheltered, as no doubt you have seen, by the almost +inaccessible wall beyond the river, and the pinewoods screen us from +the northeast and north winds of winter. South and east are miles and +miles of prairie-lands. Father has been here for eighteen years. I was +a child of four when we came. Whitewater was a mere settlement then, +and Forks wasn't even in existence. We hadn't a neighbor nearer than +Whitewater in those days, except the Indians and half-breeds. They +were rough times, and father held his place only by the subtlety of +his poor blind brain, and the arms of the men he had with him. Jake +has been with us as long as I can remember. So you see," she added, +returning to her womanly dread for his safety, "I know Jake. My +warning is not the idle fear of a silly girl." + +Tresler remained silent for a moment or two. Then he asked sharply-- + +"Why does your father keep him?" + +The girl shrugged her shoulders. "Jake is the finest ranchman in the +country." + +And in the silence that followed Tresler helped himself to more +coffee, and finished off with cheese and crackers. Neither seemed +inclined to break up the awkwardness of the pause. For the time the +man's thoughts were wandering in interested speculation as to the +possibilities of his future on the ranch. He was not thinking so much +of Jake, nor even of Julian Marbolt. It was of the gentler +associations with the girl beside him--associations he had never +anticipated in his wildest thoughts. She was no prairie-bred girl. Her +speech, her manner, savored too much of civilization. Yes, he decided +in his mind, although she claimed Mosquito Bend as her home since she +was four, she had been educated elsewhere. His thoughts were suddenly +cut short. A faint sound caught his quick ears. Then Diane's voice, +questioning him, recalled his wandering attention. + +"I understand you intend to stay with us for three years?" + +"Just as long as it will take to learn all the business of a ranch," +he answered readily. "I am going to become one of the----" + +Again he heard the peculiar noise, and he broke off listening. Diane +was listening too. It was a soft tap, tap, like some one knocking +gently upon a curtained door. It was irregular, intermittent, like the +tapping of a telegraph-sounder working very slowly. + +"What's that?" he asked. + +The girl had risen, and a puzzled look was in her eyes. "The noise? +Oh, it's father," she said, with a shadowy smile, and in a lowered +tone. "Something must have disturbed him. It is unusual for him to be +awake so early." + +Now they heard a door open, and the tapping ceased. Then the door +closed and the lock turned. A moment later there came the jingle of +keys, and then shuffling footsteps accompanied the renewed tapping. + +Tresler was still listening. He had turned toward the door, and while +his attention was fixed on the coming of the blind rancher, he was yet +aware that Diane was clearing the table with what seemed to him +unnecessary haste and noise. However, his momentary interest was +centred upon the doorway and the passage outside, and he paid little +heed to the girl's movements. The door stood open, and as he looked +out the sound of shuffling feet drew nearer; then a figure passed the +opening. + +It was gone in a moment. But in that moment he caught sight of a tall +man wrapped in the gray folds of a dressing-gown that reached to his +feet. That, and the sharp outline of a massive head of close-cropped +gray hair. The face was lost, all except the profile. He saw a long, +high-bridged nose and a short, crisp grayish beard. The tapping of the +stick died slowly away. And he knew that the blind man had passed out +on to the verandah. + +Now he turned again to the girl, and would have spoken, but she raised +a warning finger and shook her head. Then, moving toward the door, she +beckoned to him to follow. + + * * * * * + +"Father, this is Mr. Tresler." + +Tresler found himself looking down upon a remarkable face. He +acknowledged Diane's introduction, forgetful, for the moment, of the +man's sightless eyes. He gripped the outstretched hand heartily, while +he took in his first impression of a strange personality. + +They were out on the verandah. The rancher was sitting in a prim, +uncushioned armchair. He had a strong, well-moulded, pale face, the +sightless eyes of which held the attention. Tresler at once +appreciated Shaky's description of them. + +They were dreadful eyes. The pupils were there, and, in a measure, +appeared natural except for their enormous size. They were black, jet +black, and divided from what should have been the whites by minute +rings of blue, the only suspicion of iris they possessed. But it was +the whites that gave them their dreadful expression. They were scarlet +with inflammation--an inflammation which extended to the rims of the +lids and had eaten away the lashes. Of the rest of the face it was +impossible for him to form much of an opinion. The iron-gray brows +were depressed as though with physical pain, and so obliterated all +natural expression. And the beard shut out the indications which the +mouth and chin might have afforded. + +"You're welcome, Mr. Tresler," he said, in a low, gentle tone. "I knew +you were here some time ago." + +Tresler was astonished at the quiet refinement of his voice. He had +grown so accustomed to the high, raucous twang of the men of these +wilds that it came as a surprise to him. + +"I hope I didn't disturb you," he answered cheerily. "Miss Marbolt +told me you were sleeping, and----" + +"You didn't disturb me--at least, not in the way you mean. You see, +I have developed a strange sensitiveness--a sort of second sight," +he laughed a little bitterly. "I awoke by instinct the moment you +approached the house, and heard you come in. The loss of one sense, +you see, has made others more acute. Well, well, so you have +come to learn ranching? Diane"--the blind man turned to his +daughter--"describe Mr. Tresler to me. What does he look like? Forgive +me, my dear sir," he went on, turning with unerring instinct to the +other. "I glean a perfect knowledge of those about me in this way." + +"Certainly." The object of the blind man's interest smiled over at the +girl. + +Diane hesitated in some confusion. + +"Go on, child," her father said, with a touch of impatience in his +manner. + +Thus urged she began. "Mr. Tresler is tall. Six feet. +Broad-shouldered." + +The man's red, staring eyes were bent on his pupil with a steady +persistency. + +"Yes, yes," he urged, as the girl paused. + +"Dressed in--er fashionable riding costume." + +"His face?" + +"Black hair, steel-blue eyes, black eyelashes and brows. Broad +forehead----" + +"Any lines?" questioned the blind man. + +"Only two strong marks between the brows." + +"Go on." + +"Broad-bridged, rather large nose; well-shaped mouth, with inclination +to droop at the corners; broad, split chin; well-rounded cheeks and +jaw." + +"Ha! clean-shaven, of course--yes." + +The rancher sat silent for some moments after Diane had finished her +description. His lips moved, as though he were talking to himself; but +no words came to those waiting. At last he stirred, and roused from +his reverie. + +"You come from Springfield, Mr. Tresler, I understand?" he said +pleasantly. + +"Yes." + +"Um. New England. A good country that breeds good men," he nodded, +with an expression that was almost a smile. "I'm glad to be able to +welcome you; I only wish I could see. However," he went on kindly, +"you will be able to learn ranching in all its branches here. We breed +horses and cattle. You'll find it rough. My foreman is not exactly +gentle, but, believe me, he knows his business. He is the finest +ranchman in the country, and I owe much of my success to him. You must +get on the right side of Jake, though. It requires finding--the right +side, I mean--but it is worth seeking." + +Tresler smiled as he listened. He thoroughly agreed with the reference +to the difficulty of finding Jake's "right" side. He endeavored to +catch Diane's eye, but she avoided his gaze. As the rancher paused, he +broke in at once. + +"I presume I start work in earnest to-morrow morning?" + +The blind man shook his head. "No; better start in to-day. Our +agreement reads to-day; it must not be broken. You take your position +as one of the hands, and will be under the control of Jake Harnach." + +"We can have tea first, though," put in Diane, who had followed her +father's words with what seemed unnecessary closeness. + +"Tut, tut, child," he replied impatiently. "Yes, we will have tea. +'Tis all you think of. See to it, and bring Tresler a chair; I must +talk to him." + +His words were a dismissal; and after Diane had provided a chair, she +retired into the house, leaving apprentice and master alone. And the +two men talked, as men will talk who have just come together from the +ends of the world. Tresler avoided the details of his journey; nor +did the blind man seem in any way interested in his personal affairs. +It was the news of men, and matters concerning the world, that they +discussed. And the rancher's information and remarks, and keen, +incisive questions, set the newcomer wondering. He watched the face +before him, the red, sightless eyes. He studied the quiet, +gentle-voiced man, as one may study an abstruse problem. The result +was disheartening. One long, weary expression of pain was all he +beheld; no lights and shades of emotion and interest. It was the face +of one grown patient under a lifelong course of suffering. Tresler had +listened to the bitter cursings against this man, but as the soft +voice and cultured expressions fell upon his ears, the easy-flowing, +pointed criticisms on matters of public interest, the broad +philosophy, sometimes faintly dashed with bitterness and cynicism, but +always sound, he found it hard to associate him with the significant +sobriquet of the ranch. Tea-time found him still wrestling with the +unsolved problem. But, with the advent of Diane with the table and +laden tray, he set it aside for future study. + +For the next half-hour he transferred his attention to the relations +between father and daughter, as they chatted pleasantly of the +ranching prospects of the country, for the benefit of their visitor. +This was a lesser problem, and one he came near to achieving. Before +he left them, he resolved that Diane stood in great awe, not to say +fear, of her father. This to him was astonishing, judging by the +strength of character every feature in her face displayed. It seemed +to him that she was striving hard to bestow affection on him--trying +to create an affection that had no place in her heart. Her efforts +were painfully apparent. She convinced him at once of a lively sense +of duty--a sense she was carrying to a point that was almost pitiful. +All this he felt sure of, but it was the man who finally baffled him +as he had baffled him before. How he regarded Diane it was impossible +to say. Sometimes he could have sworn that the man's devotion to her +was that of one who, helpless, clings to a support which never fails +him; at others, he treated her to a sneering intolerance, which roused +the young man's ire; and, again, he would change his tone, till the +undercurrent of absolute hatred drowned the studied courtesy which +veneered it. And when he finally rose to leave the verandah and seek +out the foreman and report himself for duty, it was with a genuine +feeling of relief at leaving the presence of those dreadful red eyes. + +Diane was packing up the tea-things, and Tresler still lingered on the +verandah; he was watching the blind man as he tapped his way into the +house. Then, as he disappeared, and the sound of his shuffling feet +grew faint and distant, he became aware that Diane was standing +holding the tray and watching him. He knew, too, by her attentive +attitude, that she was listening to ascertain when her father should +be out of ear-shot. As the sounds died away, and all became silent +within the house, she came over to him. She spoke without pausing on +her way; it seemed that she feared observation. + +"Don't forget, Mr. Tresler, what I told you about Jake. Be warned. In +spite of what you say, you do not know him." + +"Thanks, Miss Marbolt," he replied warmly; "I shall not forget." + +Diane was about to speak again, but the voice of her father, harsh and +strident enough now, reached them from the hallway. + +"Come in, child, and let Tresler go to his work." + +And Tresler noted the expression of fear that leapt into the girl's +face as she hurriedly passed into the house. He stood for a moment +wrathful and wondering; then he strode away toward the corrals, +reflecting on the strange events which had so swiftly followed one +upon the other. + +"Ye gods," he muttered, "this is a queer place--and these are queer +people." + +Then as he saw the great figure of Jake coming up the hill toward him, +from the direction of a small isolated hut, he went out to meet him, +unconsciously squaring himself as he drew near. + +He expected an explosion; at least an angry demonstration. But nothing +of the sort happened. The whole attitude of the man had changed to one +of studied amiability. Not only that, but his diction was careful to a +degree, as though he were endeavoring to impress this man from the +East with his superiority over the other ranchmen. + +"Well? You have seen him?" + +"Yes. I have now come to report myself ready for work," Tresler +replied at once. He adopted a cold business tone, deeming it best to +observe this from the start. + +To his surprise Jake became almost cordial. "Good. We can do with some +hands, sure. Had a pleasant talk with the old man?" The question came +indifferently, but a sidelong glance accompanied it as the foreman +turned away and gazed out over the distant prairie. + +"I have," replied Tresler, shortly. "What are my orders, and where do +I sleep?" + +"Then you don't sleep up at the house?" Jake inquired, pretending +surprise. There was a slight acidity in his tone. + +"That is hardly to be expected when the foreman sleeps down there." +Tresler nodded, indicating the outbuildings. + +"That's so," observed the other, thoughtfully. "No, I guess the old +man don't fancy folk o' your kidney around," he went on, relapsing +into the speech of the bunkhouse unguardedly. "Mebbe it's different +wi' the other." + +Tresler could have struck him as he beheld the meaning smile that +accompanied the fellow's words. + +"Where do I sleep?" he demanded sharply. + +"Oh, I guess you'll roll into the bunkhouse. Likely the boys'll fix +you for blankets till your truck comes along. As for orders, why, we +start work at sunup, and Slushy dips out breakfast before that. Guess +I'll put you to work in the morning; you can't do a deal yet, but +maybe you'll learn." + +"Then I'm not wanted to-night?" + +"Guess not." Jake broke off. Then he turned sharply and faced his man. +"I've just one word to say to you 'fore you start in," he went on. "We +kind o' make allowance fer 'tenderfeet' around here--once. After that, +we deal accordin'--savee? Say, ther' ain't no tea-parties customary +around this layout." + +Tresler smiled. If he had been killed for it he must have smiled. In +that last remark the worthy Jake had shown his hand. And the latter +saw the smile, and his face darkened with swift-rising anger. But he +had evidently made up his mind not to be drawn, for, with a curt +"S'long," he abruptly strode off, leaving the other to make his way to +the bunkhouse. + +The men had not yet come in for their evening meal, but he found +Arizona disconsolately sitting on a roll of blankets just outside the +door of the quarters. He was chewing steadily, with his face turned +prairieward, gazing out over the tawny plains as though nothing else +in the world mattered to him. + +He looked up casually as Tresler came along, and edged along the +blankets to make room, contenting himself with a laconic-- + +"Set." + +The two men sat in silence for some moments. The pale-faced cowpuncher +seemed absorbed in deep reflection. Tresler was thinking too; he was +thinking of Jake, whom he clearly understood was in love with his +employer's daughter. It was patent to the veriest simpleton. Not only +that, but he felt that Diane herself knew it. The way the foreman had +desisted from his murderous onslaught upon himself at her coming was +sufficient evidence without the jealousy he had betrayed in his +reference to tea-parties. Now he understood, too, that it was because +the blind man was asleep, and in going up to the house he, Tresler, +would only meet Diane, and probably spend a pleasant afternoon with +her until her father awoke, that Jake's unreasoning jealousy had been +aroused, and he had endeavored to forcibly detain him. He felt glad +that he had learned these things so soon. All such details would be +useful. + +At last Arizona turned from his impassive contemplation of the +prairie. + +"Wal?" he questioned. And he conveyed a world of interrogation in his +monosyllable. + +"Jake says I begin work to-morrow. To-night I sleep in the bunkhouse." + +"Yes, I know." + +"You know?" Tresler looked around in astonishment. + +"Guess Jake's bin 'long. Say, I'll shoot that feller, sure--'less some +interferin' cuss gits along an' does him in fust." + +"What's up? Anything fresh?" + +For answer Arizona spat forcibly into the little pool of tobacco-juice +on the ground before him. Then, with a vicious clenching of the +teeth-- + +"He's a swine." + +"Which is a libel on hogs," observed the other, with a smile. + +"Libel?" cried Arizona, his wild eyes rolling, and his lean nostrils +dilating as his breath came short and quick. "Yes, grin; grin like a +blazin' six-foot ape. Mebbe y'll change that grin later, when I tell +you what he's done." + +"Nothing he could do would surprise me after having met him." + +"No." Arizona had calmed again. His volcanic nature was a study. +Tresler, although he had only just met this man, liked him for his +very wildness. "Say, pardner," he went on quietly, reaching one long, +lean hand toward him, "shake! I guess I owe you gratitood fer bluffin' +that hog. We see it all. Say, you've got grit." And the fierce eyes +looked into the other's face. + +Tresler shook the proffered hand heartily. "But what's his latest +achievement?" he asked, eager to learn the fresh development. + +"He come along here 'bout you. Sed we wus to fix you up in pore Dave +Steele's bunk." + +"Yes? That's good. I rather expected he'd have me sleep on the floor." + +Arizona gave a snort. His anger was rising again, but he checked it. + +"Say," he went on, "guess you don't know a heap. Ther' ain't bin a +feller slep in that bunk since Dave--went away." + +"Why?" Tresler's interest was agog. + +"Why?" Arizona's voice rose. "'Cos it's mussed all up wi' a crazy +man's blood. A crazy man as wus killed right here, kind of, by Jake +Harnach." + +"I heard something of it." + +"Heerd suthin' of it? Wal, I guess ther' ain't a feller around this +prairie as ain't yelled hisself hoarse 'bout Dave. Say, he wus the +harmlessest lad as ever jerked a rope or slung a leg over a stock +saddle. An' as slick a hand as ther' ever wus around this ranch. I +tell ye he could teach every one of us, he wus that handy; an' that's +a long trail, I 'lows. Wal, we wus runnin' in a bunch of outlaws fer +brandin', an' he wus makin' to rope an old bull. Howsum he got him +kind o' awkward. The rope took the feller's horns. 'Fore Dave could +loose it that bull got mad, an' went squar' for the corral walls an' +broke a couple o' the bars. Dave jumped fer it an' got clear. Then +Jake comes hollerin' an' swearin' like a stuck hog, an' Dave he took +it bad. Y' see no one could handle an outlaw like Dave. He up an' let +fly at Jake, an' cussed back. Wot does Jake do but grab up a brandin' +iron an' lay it over the boy's head. Dave jest dropped plumb in his +tracks. Then we got around and hunched him up, an' laid him out in his +bunk, bleedin' awful. We plastered him, an' doctored him, an' after a +whiles he come to. He lay on his back fer a month, an' never a sign o' +Jake or the blind man come along, only Miss Dianny. She come, an' we +did our best. But arter a month he got up plump crazed an' silly-like. +He died back ther' in Forks soon after." Arizona paused significantly. +Then he went on. "No, sir, ther' ain't bin a feller put in that bunk +sense, fer they ain't never gotten pore Dave's blood off'n it. Say, +ther' ain't a deal as 'ud scare us fellers, but we ain't sleepin' over +a crazy man's blood." + +"Which, apparently, I've got to do," Tresler said sharply. Then he +asked, "Is it the only spare bunk?" + +"No. Ther's Thompson's, an' ther's Massy's." + +"Then what's the object?" + +"Cussedness. It's a kind o' delicate attention. It's fer to git back +on you, knowin' as us fellers 'ud sure tell you of Dave. It's to kind +o' hint to you what happens to them as runs foul o' him. What's like +to happen to you." + +Arizona's fists clenched, and his teeth gritted with rage as he +deduced his facts. Tresler remained calm, but it did him good to +listen to the hot-headed cowpuncher, and he warmed toward him. + +"I'm afraid I must disappoint him," he said, when the other had +finished. "If you fellows will lend me some blankets, I'll sleep in +Massy's or Thompson's bunk, and Mr. Jake can go hang." + +Arizona shot round and peered into Tresler's face. "An' you'll do +that--sure?" + +"Certainly. I'm not going to sleep in a filthy bunk." + +"Say, you're the most cur'usest 'tenderfoot' I've seen. Shake!" + +And again the two men gripped hands. + +That first evening around the bunkhouse Tresler learned a lot about +his new home, and, incidentally, the most artistic manner of cursing +the flies. He had supper with the boys, and his food was hash and tea +and dry bread. It was hard but wholesome, and there was plenty of it. +His new comrades exercised their yarning propensities for him, around +him, at him. He listened to their chaff, boisterous, uncultured; +their savage throes of passion and easy comradeships. They seemed to +have never a care in the world but the annoyances of the moment. Even +their hatred for the foreman and their employer seemed to lift from +them, and vanish with the sound of the curses which they heaped upon +them. It was a new life, a new world to him; and a life that appealed +to him. + +As the sun sank and the twilight waned, the men gradually slipped away +to turn in. Arizona was the last to go. Tresler had been shown Massy's +bunk, and friendly hands had spread blankets upon it for him. He was +standing at the foot of it in the long aisle between the double row of +trestle beds. Arizona had just pointed out the dead man's disused +couch, all covered with gunny sacks. + +"That's Dave's," he said. "I kind o' think you'll sleep easier right +here. Say, Tresler," he went on, with a serious light in his eyes, +"I'd jest like to say one thing to you, bein' an old hand round these +parts myself, an' that's this. When you git kind o' worried, use your +gun. Et's easy an' quick. Guess you've plenty o' time an' to spare +after fer sizin' things up. Ther' ain't a man big 'nough in this world +to lift a finger ef you sez 'no' and has got your gun pointin' right. +S'long." + +But Tresler detained him. "Just one moment, Arizona," he said, +imitating the other's impressive manner. "I'd just like to say one +thing to you, being a new hand around these parts myself, and that's +this. You being about my size, I wonder if you could sell me a pair +of pants, such as you fellows ordinarily wear?" + +The cowpuncher smiled a pallid, shadowy smile, and went over to his +kit-bag. He returned a moment later with a pair of new moleskin +trousers and threw them on the bunk. + +"You ken have them, I guess. Kind o' remembrancer fer talkin' straight +to Jake. Say, that did me a power o' good." + +"Thanks, but I'll pay----" + +"Not on your life, mister." + +"Then I'll remember your advice." + +"Good. S'long." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE NIGHT-RIDERS + + +Tresler had not the smallest inclination for sleep. He was tired +enough physically, but his brain was still much too active. Besides, +the bunkhouse was uninviting to him as yet. The two lines of +trestle-beds, with their unkempt occupants, were suggestive of--well, +anything but congenial sleeping companions. The atmosphere was close +and stuffy, and the yellow glimmer of the two oil-lamps, one stationed +at each end of the room, gave the place a distasteful suggestion of +squalor. + +He was not unduly squeamish--far from it; but, be it remembered, he +had only just left a world of ease and luxury, where snow-white linen +and tasteful surroundings were necessary adjuncts to existence. +Therefore these things came to him in the nature of a shock. + +He looked at his blankets spread over the straw palliasse that +disguised the loose bed-boards underneath, and this drew his attention +to the mattress itself. It was well-worn and dusty, and as he moved it +he felt that the straw inside was crushed to the smallest chaff. He +laid it back carefully so as not to disturb the dust, and rearranged +the blankets over it. Then he sat on the foot of it and pondered. + +He gazed about him at the other beds. Some of the men were already +sleeping, announcing the fact more or less loudly. Others were swathed +in their blankets smoking in solemn silence. One was deep in the +blood-curdling pages of a dime novel, straining his eyes in the fitful +light of the lamps. The scene had novelty for him, but it was not +altogether enthralling, so he filled his pipe and lit it, and passed +out into the fresh night air. It was only ten o'clock, and he felt +that a smoke and a comfortable think would be pleasant before facing +the charms of his dusty couch. + +The moon had not yet risen, but the starry sheen of the sky dimly +outlined everything. He was gazing upon the peaceful scene of a ranch +when night has spread her soft, velvety wings. There were few sounds +to distract his thoughts. The air still hummed with the busy insect +life; one of the prowling ranch dogs occasionally gave tongue, its +fiercely suspicious temper no doubt aroused by some vague shadow which +surely no other eyes than his could possibly have detected in the +darkness; sometimes the distressful plaint of a hungry coyote, hunting +for what it never seems to find--for he is always prowling and +hunting--would rouse the echoes and startle the "tenderfoot" with the +suddenness and nearness of its uncanny call. But for the rest all was +still. And he paced to and fro before the bunkhouse, thinking. + +And, strangely enough, of all the scenes he had witnessed that day, +and of all the people he had met, it was the scene in which Diane +Marbolt had taken part, and of her he mostly thought. Perhaps it was +the unexpectedness of meeting a girl so charming that held him +interested. Perhaps it was the eager desire she had displayed in +warning him of his personal danger. Perhaps, even, it was the +recollection of the soft, brown eyes, the charming little sun-tanned +face that had first looked up at him from beneath the broad-brimmed +straw hat. Certain it was her sad face haunted him as no woman's face +had ever haunted him before as he looked out on the vast, dark world +about him. He felt that he would like to know something of her story; +not out of idle curiosity, but that he might discover some means of +banishing the look of sadness so out of place upon her beautiful +features. + +His pipe burned out, and he recharged and lit it afresh; then he +extended his peregrinations. He moved out of the deeper shadows of the +bunkhouse and turned the corner in the direction of the western group +of corrals. + +Now he saw the foreman's hut beyond the dark outline of the great +implement shed, and a light was still shining in the window. Turning +away he passed to the left of the shed, and strolled leisurely on to +the corrals. He had no desire in the world to meet Jake Harnach; not +that he thought such a contingency likely, but still there was always +the chance if the man had not yet gone to bed. He had already decided +that the less he saw of Jake the better it would be for both of them. +He remained for some minutes seated on the top of the corral fence, +but the mosquitoes were too thick, and drove him to further +wanderings. + +Just as he was about to move away, he saw the door of the foreman's +hut open, and in the light that shone behind, the small figure of the +choreman, Joe Nelson, come out. Then the light was shut out as the +great figure of Jake blocked the doorway. Now he distinctly heard them +speaking. + +"I shall want it first thing in the morning," said the foreman, in his +great hoarse voice. + +"Guess I'll see to it," replied Joe; "but 'tain't the saddle fer +anybody who ain't used to it." + +"That's o' no consequence. Your business is to have it there." + +Then Jake retired, and the door was shut. A moment later the waiting +man saw Joe emerge from the shadow and stump off in the direction of +the bunkhouse. A few yards from the foreman's hut he halted and turned +about. Then Tresler witnessed something that made him smile, while it +raised a lively feeling of satisfaction in his heart. Joe slowly +raised one arm in the direction of the hut, and, although the light +was insufficient for him to see it, and he could hear no words, he +felt sure that the fist was clenched, and a string of blasphemous +invective was desecrating the purity of the night air. A moment later +Joe passed leisurely on his way, and the light went out in Jake's +dwelling. + +And now, without concerning himself with his direction, Tresler +continued his walk. He moved toward an open shed crowded with wagons. +This he skirted, intending to avoid the foreman's hut, but just as he +moved out from the shadow, he became aware that Jake's door had opened +again and some one was coming out. He waited for a moment listening. +He fancied he recognized the foreman's heavy tread. Curiosity +prompted him to inquire further, but he checked the impulse. After +all, the bully's doings were no concern of his. So he waited until the +sound of receding footsteps had died out, and then passed round the +back of the shed and strolled on. + +There was nothing now in front of him but the dense black line of the +boundary pinewoods. These stretched away to the right and left as far +as the darkness permitted him to see. The blackness of their depths +was like a solid barrier, and he had neither time nor inclination to +explore them at that hour. Therefore he skirted away to the right, +intending to leave the forest edge before he came to the rancher's +house, and so make his way back to his quarters. + +He was approaching the house, and it loomed dark and rigid before him. +Gazing upon it, his mind at once reverted to its blind owner, and he +found himself wondering if he were in bed yet, if Diane had retired, +and in which portion of the house she slept. + +His pipe had gone out again, and he paused to relight it. He had his +matches in his hand, and was about to strike one, when suddenly a +light flashed out in front of him. It came and was gone in a second. +Yet it lasted long enough for him to realize that it came from a +window, and the window, he knew, from its position, must be the window +of Julian Marbolt's bedroom. + +He waited for it to reappear, but the house remained in darkness; and, +after a moment's deliberation, he realized its meaning. The door of +the blind man's room must be opposite the window, and probably it was +the opening of it that had revealed the lamplight in the hall. The +thought suggested the fact that the rancher had just gone to bed. + +He turned his attention again to his pipe; but he seemed destined not +to finish his smoke. Just as he had the match poised for a second +time, his ears, now painfully acute in the stillness about him, caught +the sound of horses' hoofs moving through the forest. + +They sounded quite near; he even heard the gush of the animals' +nostrils. He peered into the depths. Then, suddenly realizing the +strangeness of his own position lurking so near the house and under +cover of the forest at that hour of the night, he dropped down in the +shadow of a low bush. Nor was it any too soon, for, a moment or two +later, he beheld two horsemen moving slowly toward him out of the +black depths. They came on until they were within half a dozen yards +of him, and almost at the edge of the woods. Then they drew up and sat +gazing out over the ranch in silent contemplation. + +Tresler strained his eyes to obtain a knowledge of their appearance, +but the darkness thwarted him. He could see the vague outline of the +man nearest him, but it was so uncertain that he could make little of +it. One thing only he ascertained, and that was because the figure was +silhouetted against the starlit sky. The man seemed to have his face +covered with something that completely concealed his profile. + +The whole scene passed almost before he realized it. The horsemen had +appeared so suddenly, and were gone so swiftly, returning through the +forest the way they had come, that he was not sure but that the whole +apparition had been a mere trick of imagination. Rising swiftly, he +gazed after the vanished riders, and the crunching of the pine cones +under the horses' hoofs, dying slowly away as they retreated, warned +him that the stealthy, nocturnal visit was no illusion, but a curious +fact that needed explanation. + +Just for an instant it occurred to him that it might be two of the +hands out on night work around the cattle, then he remembered that the +full complement were even now slumbering in the bunkhouse. Puzzled and +somewhat disquieted, he turned his steps in the direction of his +quarters, fully intending to go to bed; but his adventures were not +over yet. + +As he drew near his destination he observed the figure of a man, +bearing something on his back, coming slowly toward him. A moment +later he was looking down upon the diminutive person of Joe Nelson in +the act of carrying a saddle upon his shoulder. + +"Hello, Nelson, where are you going at this hour of the night?" he +asked, as he came face to face with the little man. + +The choreman deposited the saddle on the ground, and looked his man up +and down before he answered. + +"Wher' am I goin'?" he said, as though he were thinking of other +things. "I guess I'm doin' a job in case I git fergittin' by the +mornin'. Jake reckons to want my saddle in the mornin' over at the +hoss corrals. But, say, why ain't you abed, Mr. Tresler?" + +"Never mind the 'mister,' Joe," Tresler said amiably. + +[Illustration: A moment later he beheld two horsemen] + +"If you're going to the horse corrals now I'll go with you. I'm so +beastly wide awake that I can't turn in yet." + +"Come right along, then. Guess I ain't feelin' that ways, sure." + +Joe jerked his saddle up and slung it across his back again, and the +two men walked off in silence. + +And as they walked, Joe, under cover of the darkness, eyed his +companion with occasional sidelong glances, speculating as to what he +wanted with him. He quite understood that his companion was not +walking with him for the pleasure of his company. On his part Tresler +was wondering how much he ought to tell this man--almost a +stranger--of what he had seen. He felt that some one ought to +know--some one with more experience than himself. He felt certain that +the stealthy visit of the two horsemen was not wholesome. Such +espionage pointed to something that was not quite open and aboveboard. + +They reached the corrals, and Joe deposited his burden upon the wooden +wall. Then he turned sharply on his companion. + +"Wal, out wi' it, man," he demanded. "Guess you got something you're +wantin' to git off'n your chest." + +Tresler laughed softly. "You're pretty sharp, Joe." + +"Pretty sharp, eh?" returned the little man. "Say, it don't need no +razor to cut through the meanin' of a 'tenderfoot.' Wal?" + +Tresler was looking up at the saddle. It was a small, almost skeleton +saddle, such as, at one time, was largely used in Texas; that was +before the heavier and more picturesque Mexican saddles came into +vogue among the ranchmen. + +"What does Jake want that for?" he asked. + +His question was an idle one, and merely put for the sake of gaining +time while he arrived at a definite decision upon the other matter. + +"Guess it's fer some feller to ride to-morrow--eh? Whew!" + +The choreman broke off and whistled softly. Something had just +occurred to him. He measured Tresler with his eye, and then looked at +the short-seated saddle with its high cantle and tall, abrupt horn in +front. He shook his head. + +Tresler was not heeding him. Suddenly he stopped and sat on the +ground, propping his back against the corral wall, while he looked up +at Joe. + +"Sit down," he said seriously; "I've got something rather particular I +want to talk about. At least, I think it's particular, being a +stranger to the country." + +Without replying, Joe deposited himself on the ground beside his new +acquaintance. His face was screwed up into the expression Tresler had +begun to recognize as a smile. He took a chew of tobacco and prepared +to give his best attention. + +"Git goin'," he observed easily. + +"Well, look here, have we any near neighbors?" + +"None nigher than Forks--'cep' the Breeds, an' they're nigh on six +mile south, out toward the hills. How?" + +Then Tresler told him what he had seen at the edge of the pinewoods, +and the choreman listened with careful attention. At the end of his +story Tresler added-- + +"You see, it's probably nothing. Of course, I know nothing as yet of +prairie ways and doings. No doubt it can be explained. But I argued +the matter out from my own point of view, and it struck me that two +horsemen, approaching the ranch under cover of the forest and a dark +night, and not venturing into the open after having arrived, simply +didn't want to be seen. And their not wishing to be seen meant that +their object in coming wasn't--well, just above suspicion." + +"Tol'ble reasonin'," nodded Joe, chewing his cud reflectively. + +"What do you make of it?" + +"A whole heap," Joe said, spitting emphatically. "What do I make of +it? Yes, that's it, a whole heap. Guess that feller you see most of +had his face covered. Was that cover a mask?" + +"It might have been." + +"A red mask?" + +"I couldn't see the color. It was too dark. Might have been." + +Joe turned and faced his companion, and, hunching his bent knees into +his arms, looked squarely into his eyes. + +"See here, pard, guess you never heard o' hoss thieves? They ain't +likely to mean much to you," he said, with some slight contempt. Then +he added, by way of rubbing it in, "You bein' a 'tenderfoot.' Guess +you ain't heard tell of Red Mask an' his gang, neither?" + +"Wrong twice," observed Tresler, with a quiet smile. "I've heard of +both horse thieves and Red Mask." + +"You've heard tell of hoss thieves an' Red Mask? Wal, I'm figgerin' +you've seen both to-night, anyway; an' I'll further tell you this--if +you'd got the drop on him this night an' brought him down, you'd 'a' +done what most every feller fer two hundred miles around has been +layin' to do fer years, an' you'd 'a' been the biggest pot in Montana +by sundown to-morrow." He spoke with an accent of triumph, and paused +for effect. "Say, ther' wouldn't 'a' been a feller around as wouldn't +'a' taken his hat off to you," he went on, to accentuate the +situation. "Say, it was a dandy chance. But ther', you're a +'tenderfoot,'" he added, with a sigh of profound regret. + +Tresler was inclined to laugh, but checked himself as he realized the +serious side of the matter. + +"Well, if he were here to-night, what does it portend?" he asked. + +"If he was here to-night it portends a deal," said Joe, sharply. "It +portends that the biggest 'tough,' the biggest man-killer an' hoss +thief in the country, is on the war-path, an' ther'll be trouble +around 'fore we're weeks older." + +"Who is he?" + +"Who is he? Wal, I 'lows that's a big question. Guess ther' ain't no +real sayin'. Some sez he's from across the border, some sez he's a +Breed, some sez he's the feller called Duncan, as used to run a bum +saloon in Whitewater, an' shot a man in his own bar an' skipped. No +one rightly knows, 'cep' he's real 'bad,' an' duffs nigh on to a +thousand head o' stock most every year." + +"Then what's to be done?" Tresler asked, watching the little man's +twisted face as he munched his tobacco. + +"What's to be done? Wal, I don't rightly know. Say, what wus you doin' +around that house? I ain't askin' fer cur'osity. Ye see, if you got +tellin' Jake as you wus round ther', it's likely he'd git real mad. Y' +see, Jake's dead sweet on Miss Dianny. It gives him the needle that +I'm around that house. O' course, ther' ain't nuthin' wi' me an' Miss +Dianny, 'cep' we're kind o' friendly. But Jake's that mean-sperrited +an' jealous. She hates him like pizen. I know, 'cos I'm kind o' +friendly wi' her, so to speak, meanin' nuthin', o' course. But that +ain't the point. If you wus to tell him he'd make your head swim." + +"Oh, hang Jake!" exclaimed Tresler, impatiently; "I'm sick to death of +hearing of his terrorizing. He can't eat me----" + +"No, but he'll make you wish he could," put in the choreman, quietly. + +"He'd find me a tough mouthful," Tresler laughed. + +"Mebbe. How came you around that house?" + +"I simply wandered there by chance. I was smoking and taking a stroll. +I'd been all round the ranch." + +"That wouldn't suit Jake. No." Joe was silent for a moment. + +Tresler waited. At last the little man made a move and spat out his +chew. + +"That's it," he said, slapping his thigh triumphantly--"that's it, +sure. Say, we needn't to tell Jake nuthin'. I'll git around among the +boys, an' let 'em know as I heerd tell of Red Mask bein' in the region +o' the Bend, an' how a Breed give me warnin', bein' scared to come +along to the ranch lest Red Mask got wind of it an' shut his head +lights fer him. Ther' ain't no use in rilin' Jake. Meanin' for you. +He's layin' fer you anyways, as I'm guessin' you'll likely know. +Savee? Lie low, most as low as a dead cat in a well. I'll play this +hand, wi'out you figgerin' in it; which, fer you, I guess is best." + +Tresler got up and dusted his clothes. There was a slight pause while +he fingered the leather-capped stirrups of the stock saddle on the +wall. + +Joe grew impatient. "Wal?" he said at last; "y' ain't bustin' wi' +'preciation." + +"On the contrary, I appreciate your shrewdness and kindly interest on +my behalf most cordially," Tresler replied, dropping the stirrup and +turning to his companion; "but, you see, there's one little weakness +in the arrangement. Jake's liable to underestimate the importance of +the nocturnal visits unless he knows the real facts. Besides----" + +"Besides," broke in Joe, with an impatience bred of his reading +through Tresler's lame objection, "you jest notion to rile Jake some. +Wal, you're a fool, Tresler--a dog-gone fool! Guess you'll strike a +snag, an' snags mostly hurts. Howsum, I ain't no wet-nurse, an' ef you +think to bluff Jake Harnach, get right ahead an' bluff. An' when you +bluff, bluff hard, an' back it, or you'll drop your wad sudden. Guess +I'll turn in." + +Joe moved off and Tresler followed. At the door of the bunkhouse they +parted, for Joe slept in a lean-to against the kitchen of the +rancher's house. They had said "good-night," and Joe was moving away +when he suddenly changed his mind and came back again. + +"Say, ther' ain't nothin' like a 'tenderfoot' fer bein' a fool, 'less +it's a settin' hen," he said, with profound contempt but with evident +good-will. "You're kind o' gritty, Tresler, I guess, but mebbe you'll +be ast to git across a tol'ble broncho in the mornin'. That's as may +be. But ef it's so, jest take two thinks 'fore settin' your six foot +o' body on a saddle built fer a feller o' five foot one. It ain't +reason'ble, an' it's dangerous. It's most like tryin' to do that as +isn't, never wus, and ain't like to be, an' if it did, wouldn't amount +to a heap anyway, 'cep' it's a heap o' foolishness." + +Tresler laughed. "All right. Two into one won't go without leaving a +lot over. Good-night, Joe." + +"So long. Them fellers as gits figgerin' mostly gits crazed fer doin' +what's impossible. Guess I ain't stuck on figgers nohow." + +And the man vanished into the night, while Tresler passed into the +bunkhouse to get what little sleep his first night as a ranchman might +afford him. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +TRESLER BEGINS HIS EDUCATION + + +But the story of the nocturnal visit of the horse thieves did not +reach the foreman next morning. Jake hailed Tresler down to the +corrals directly after breakfast. He was to have a horse told off to +him, and this matter, and the presence of others, made him postpone +his purpose to a more favorable time. + +When he arrived at the corrals, three of the boys, under Jake's +superintendence, were cutting out a big, raw-boned, mud-brown mare +from a bunch of about sixty colts. + +She stood well over sixteen hands--a clumsy, big-footed, mean-looking, +clean-limbed lady, rough-coated, and scored all over with marks of +"savaging." She was fiddle-headed and as lean as a hay-rake, but in +build she was every inch a grand piece of horse-flesh. And Tresler was +sufficient horseman to appreciate her lines, as well as the vicious, +roving eye which displayed the flashing whites at every turn. + +Jacob Smith was after her with a rope, and the onlookers watched his +lithe, active movements as he followed her, wildly racing round and +round the corral seeking a means of escape. + +Suddenly the man made a dart in to head her off. She turned to +retreat, but the other two were there to frustrate her purpose. Just +for a second she paused irresolutely; then, lowering her head and +setting her ears back, she came open-mouthed for Jacob. But he +anticipated her intention, and, as she came, sprang lightly aside, +while she swept on, lashing out her heels at him as she went. It was +the opportunity the man sought, and, in the cloud of dust that rose in +her wake, his lariat shot out low over the ground. The next moment she +fell headlong, roped by the two forefeet, and all three men sprang in +to the task of securing her. + +It was done so quickly that Tresler had hardly realized her capture +when Jake's harsh voice rang out-- + +"That's your mare, Tresler!" he cried; "guess that plug of yours'll do +for fancy ridin'. You'll break this one to handlin' cattle. You're a +tolerable weight, but she's equal to it." He laughed, and his laugh +sent an angry flush into the other's face. "Say," he went on, in +calmly contemptuous tones; "she's wild some. But she's been saddled +before. Oh, yes, she ain't raw off the grass. You, comin' from down +east, can mebbe ride. They mostly reckon to be able to ride till they +come along to these parts." + +Tresler understood the man's game; he also understood and fully +appreciated Joe Nelson's warning. He glanced at the saddle still +hanging on the corral wall. It would be simple suicide for him to +attempt to ride an outlaw with a saddle fit for a boy of fifteen. And +it was Jake's purpose, trading on his ignorance of such matters, to +fool him into using a saddle that would probably rupture him. + +"I presume she's the worst outlaw on the ranch," he replied quietly, +though his blue eyes shone dangerously. "She must be," he went on, as +Jake made no answer, "or you wouldn't give her to me, and point out +that she's been saddled before." + +"Kind o' weakenin'?" Jake asked with a sneer. + +"No. I was just thinking of my saddle. It will be no use on her; she'd +burst the girths." + +"That needn't worry you any. There's a stock saddle there, on the +fence." + +"Thank you, I'll ride on a saddle that fits a man of my size, or you +can ride the mare yourself." + +Tresler was round and facing his man, and his words came in a tone the +other was unaccustomed to. But Jake kept quite cool while he seemed to +be debating with himself. Then he abruptly turned away with a short, +vicious laugh. + +"Guess the 'tenderfoot's' plumb scared to ride her, boys," he called +out to the men, relapsing into the vernacular as he addressed them. +"Any o' you boys lendin' a saddle, or shall we find him a rockin'-hoss +to run around on?" + +Tresler fell headlong into the trap. Jake had drawn him with a skill +worthy of a better object. + +"If there is anybody scared, I don't think it is I, boys," he said +with a laugh as harsh as Jake's had been. "If one of you will lend me +a man's saddle, I'll break that mare or she'll break me." + +Now, Tresler was a very ordinary horseman. He had never in his life +sat a horse that knew the first rudiments of bucking; but at that +moment he would have mounted to the back of any horse, even if his +life were to pay the forfeit next moment. Besides, even in his blind +anger, he realized that this sort of experience must come sooner or +later. "Broncho-busting" would be part of his training. Therefore, +when some one suggested Arizona's saddle--since Arizona was on the +sick list--he jumped at the chance, for that individual was about his +size. + +The mare was now on her legs again, and stood ready bridled, while two +men held her with the lariat drawn tight over her windpipe. She stood +as still as a rock, and to judge by the flashing of her eyes, inwardly +raging. They led her out of the corral, and Arizona's saddle was +brought and the stirrups adjusted to Tresler's requirements. She was +taken well clear of the buildings into the open, and Jacob, with the +subtlety and art acquired by long practice in breaking horses, +proceeded to saddle her. Lew and Raw Harris choked her quiet with the +lariat, and though she physically attempted to resent the indignity of +being saddled, the cinchas were drawn tight. + +Tresler had come over by himself, leaving Jake to watch the +proceedings from the vantage ground of the rise toward the house. He +was quite quiet, and the boys stole occasional apprehensive glances at +him. They knew this mare; they knew that she was a hopeless outlaw and +fit only for the knacker's yard. At last Jacob beckoned him over. + +"Say, ther' ain't no need fer you to ride her, mister," he said, +feeling that it was his duty as a man to warn him. "She's the worstest +devil on the range, an' she'll break your neck an' jump on you with +her maulin' great hoofs, sure. I guess ther' ain't a 'buster' in the +country 'ud tackle her fer less 'an a fi' dollar wager, she's that +mean." + +"And she looks all you say of her, Jacob," replied Tresler, with a +grim smile. "Thanks for your warning, but I'm going to try and ride +her," he went on with quiet decision. "Not because I think I can, but +because that bully up there"--with a nod in Jake's direction--"would +only be too glad of the chance of taunting me with 'weakening.' She +shall throw me till she makes it a physical impossibility for me to +mount her again. All I ask is that you fellows stand by to keep her +off when I'm on the ground." + +By this time Jacob had secured the saddle, and now Tresler walked +round the great beast, patting her gently and speaking to her. And she +watched him with an evil, staring eye that boded nothing good. Then he +took a rawhide quirt from Jacob and, twisting it on his wrist, mounted +her, while the men kept the choking rope taut about her throat, and +she stood like a statue, except for the heaving of her sides as she +gasped for breath. + +He gathered the reins up, which had been passed through the noose of +the lariat, and sat ready. Jacob drew off, and held the end of the +rope. Tresler gave the word. The two men left her, while, with a shake +and a swift jerk, Jacob flung the lariat clear of the mare's head. In +an instant the battle had begun. + +Down went the lady's head (the boys called her by a less complimentary +name), and she shot into the air with her back humped till she shaped +like an inverted U with its extremities narrowed and almost touching. +There was no seesaw bucking about her. It was stiff-legged, with her +four feet bunched together and her great fiddle-head lost in their +midst. And at the first jump Tresler shot a foot out of the saddle, +lurched forward and then back, and finally came down where he had +started from. And as he fell heavily into the saddle his hand struck +against a coiled blanket strap behind the cantle, and he instinctively +grabbed hold of it and clung to it for dear life. + +Up she shot again, and deliberately swung round in the air and came +down with her head where her tail had been. It was a marvelous, +cat-like spring, calculated to unseat the best of horsemen. Tresler +was half out of the saddle again, but the blanket strap saved him, and +the next buck threw him back into his seat. Now her jumps came like +the shots from a gatling gun, and the man on her back was dazed, and +his head swam, and he felt the blood rushing to his ear-drums. But +with desperate resolve he clung to his strap, and so retained his +seat. But it couldn't last, and he knew it, although those looking on +began to have hopes that he would tire the vixen out. But they didn't +know the demon that possessed her. + +Suddenly it seemed as though an accident had happened to her. Her legs +absolutely shot from under her as she landed from one terrific buck, +and she plunged to the ground. Then her intention became apparent. But +luckily the antic had defeated its own end, for Tresler was flung +wide, and, as she rolled on the ground, he scrambled clear of her +body. + +He struggled to his feet, but not before she had realized his escape, +and, with the savage instinct of a man-eater, had sprung to her feet +and was making for him open-mouthed. It was Jacob's readiness and +wonderful skill that saved him. The rope whistled through the air and +caught her, the noose falling over her head with scarcely room between +her nose and her victim's back for the rawhide to pass. In a flash the +strands strung tight, and her head swung round with such a jolt that +she was almost thrown from her feet. + +Again she was choked down, and Tresler, breathing desperately, but +with his blood fairly up, was on top of her almost before the man +holding her realized his intention. The mare was foaming at the mouth, +and a lather of sweat dripped from her tuckered flanks. The whites of +her eyes were flaming scarlet now, and when she was let loose again +she tried to savage her rider's legs. Failing this, she threw her head +up violently, and, all unprepared for it, Tresler received the blow +square in the mouth. Then she was up on her hind legs, fighting the +air with her front feet, and a moment later crashed over backward. And +again it seemed like a miracle that he escaped; he slid out of the +saddle, not of his own intention, and rolled clear as she came down. + +This time she was caught before she could struggle to her feet, and +when at last she stood up she was dazed and shaken, though still +unconquered. + +Again Tresler mounted. He was bruised and bleeding, and shaking as +with an ague. And now the mare tried a new move. She bucked; but it +was a running buck, her body twisting and writhing with curious +serpentine undulations, and her body seemed to shrink under his legs +as though the brute were drawing in her whole frame of a settled +purpose. Then, having done enough in this direction, she suddenly +stood, and began to kick violently, with her head stretched low +between her forelegs. And Tresler felt himself sliding, saddle and +all, over her withers! Suddenly the blanket strap failed him. It +cracked and gave, and he shot from the saddle like a new-fired rocket. + +And when the mare had been caught again she was without the saddle, +which was now lying close to where her rider had fallen. She had +bucked and kicked herself clean through the still-fastened cinchas. + +Tresler was bleeding from nose and ears when he mounted again. The +saddle was cinched up very tight, and the mare herself was so blown +that she was unable to distend herself to resist the pressure. But, +nevertheless, she fought as though a devil possessed her, and, +exhausted, and without the help of the blanket strap, he was thrown +again and again. Five times he fell; and each time, as no bones were +broken, he remounted her. But he was growing helpless. + +But the men looking on realized that which was lost upon the rider +himself. The mare was done; she was fairly beaten. The fifth time he +climbed into the saddle her bucks wouldn't have thrown a babe; and +when they beheld this, they, with one accord, shouted to him. + +"Say, thrash her, boy! Lace h---- out of her!" roared Jacob. + +"Cut her liver out wi' that quirt!" cried Lew. + +"Ay, run her till she can't see," added Raw. + +And Tresler obeyed mechanically. He was too exhausted to do much; but +he managed to bring the quirt down over her shoulders, until, maddened +with pain, she rose up on her hind legs, gave a mighty bound forward, +and raced away down the trail like a creature possessed. + +It was dinner-time when Tresler saw the ranch again. He returned with +the mare jaded and docile. He had recovered from the battle, while she +had scarcely energy enough to put one foot before the other. She was +conquered. To use Arizona's expression, when, from the doorway of the +bunkhouse, he saw the mare crawling up the trail toward the ranch-- + +"Guess she's loaded down till her springs is nigh busted." + +And Tresler laughed outright in Jake's face when that individual came +into the barn, while he was rubbing her down, and generally returning +good for evil, and found fault with his work. + +"Where, I'd like to know, have you been all this time?" he asked +angrily. Then, as his eyes took in the pitiful sight of the exhausted +mare, "Say, you've ruined that mare, and you'll have to make it good. +We don't keep horses for the hands to founder. D'you see what you've +done? You've broke her heart." + +"And if I'd had the chance I'd have broken her neck too," Tresler +retorted, with so much heat, that, in self-defense, the foreman was +forced to leave him alone. + +That afternoon the real business of ranching began. Lew Cawley was +sent out with Tresler to instruct him in mending barbed-wire fences. +A distant pasture had been broken into by the roving cattle outside. +Lew remained with him long enough to show him how to strain the wires +up and splice them, then he rode off to other work. + +Tresler was glad to find himself out on the prairie away from the +unbearable influence of the ranch foreman. The afternoon was hot, but +it was bright with the sunshine, which, in the shadow of the +mountains, is so bracing. The pastures he was working in were +different from the lank weedy-grown prairie, although of the same +origin. They were irrigated, and had been sown and re-sown with +timothy grass and clover. The grass rose high up to the horse's knees +as he rode, and the quiet, hard-working animal, his own property, +reveled in the sweet-scented fodder which he could nip at as he moved +leisurely along. + +And Tresler worked very easily that afternoon. Not out of indolence, +not out of any ill-feeling toward his foreman. He was weary after his +morning's exertions, and, besides, the joy of being out in the pure, +bright air, on that wondrous sea of rolling green grass with its +illimitable suggestion of freedom and its gracious odors, seduced him +to an indolence quite foreign to him. He was beyond the view of the +ranch, with two miles of prairie rollers intervening, so he did his +work without concern for time. + +It was well after four o'clock when the last strand of wire was strung +tight. Then, for want of a shady tree to lean his back against, he sat +down by a fence post and smoked, while his horse, with girths +loosened, and bit removed from its mouth, grazed joyfully near by. + +And then he slept. The peace of the prairie world got hold of him; the +profound silence lulled his fagged nerves, his pipe went out, and he +slept. + +He awoke with a start. Nor, for the moment, did he know where he was. +His pipe had fallen from his mouth, and he found himself stretched +full length upon the ground. But something unusual had awakened him, +and when he had gathered his scattered senses he looked about him to +ascertain what the nature of the disturbance had been. The next moment +a laughing voice hailed him. + +"Is this the way you learn ranching, Mr. Tresler? Oh, shame! Sleeping +the glorious hours of sunshine away." + +It was the rich, gentle voice of Diane Marbolt, and its tone was one +of quiet raillery. She was gazing down at him from the back of her +sturdy broncho mare, Bessie, with eyes from which, for the moment at +least, all sadness had vanished. + +Just now her lips were wreathed in a bright smile, and her soft brown +eyes were dancing with a joyous light, which, when Tresler had first +seen her, had seemed impossible to them. She was out on the prairie, +on the back of her favorite, Bessie; she was away from the ranch, from +the home that possessed so many cares for her. She was out in her +world, the world she loved, the world that was the only world for her, +breathing the pure, delicious air which, even in moments of profound +unhappiness, had still power to carry her back to the days of happy, +careless childhood; had still power to banish all but pleasant +thoughts, and to bestow upon her that wild sense of freedom such as is +only given to those who have made their home on its virgin bosom. + +Tresler beheld this girl now in her native mood. He saw before him the +true child of the prairie such as she really was. She was clad in a +blue dungaree habit and straw sun-hat, and he marveled at the +ravishing picture she made. He raised himself upon his elbow and +stared at her, and a sensation of delight swept over him as he +devoured each detail of face and figure. Then, suddenly, he was +recalled to his senses by the abrupt fading of the smile from the face +before him; and he flushed with a rueful sense of guiltiness. + +"Fairly caught napping, Miss Marbolt," he said, in confusion. "I +acknowledge the sloth, but not the implied laxness anent ranching. +Believe me, I have learned an ample lesson to-day. I now have a fuller +appreciation of our worthy foreman; a fair knowledge of the horse, +most accurately termed 'outlaw', as the bruised condition of my body +can testify; and, as for barbed-wire fencing, I really believe I have +discovered every point in its construction worthy of consideration." + +He raised a pair of lacerated hands for the girl's inspection, and +rose, smiling, to his feet. + +"I apologize." Diane was smiling again now as she noted the network of +scratches upon his outstretched palms. "You certainly have not been +idle," she added, significantly. + +Then she became serious with a suddenness that showed how very near +the surface, how strongly marked was that quiet, thoughtful nature her +companion had first realized in her. + +"But I saw you on that mare, and I thought you would surely be killed. +Do you know they've tried to break her for two seasons, and failed +hopelessly. What happened after she bolted?" + +"Oh, nothing much. I rode her to Forks and back twice." + +"Forty miles! Good gracious! What is she like now?" + +"Done up, of course. Jake assures me I've broken her heart; but I +haven't. My Lady Jezebel has a heart of stone that would take +something in the nature of a sledge-hammer to break. She'll buck like +the mischief again to-morrow." + +"Yes." + +The girl nodded. She had witnessed the battle between the "tenderfoot" +and the mare; and, now that it was all over, she felt pleased that he +had won. And there was no mistaking the approval in the glance she +gave him. She understood the spirit that had moved him to drive the +mare that forty miles; nor, in spite of a certain sympathy for the +jaded creature, did she condemn him for it. She was too much a child +of the prairie to morbidly sentimentalize over the matter. The mare +was a savage of the worst type, and she knew that prairie horses in +their breaking often require drastic treatment. It was the stubborn, +purposeful character of the man that she admired, and thought most +of. He had carried out a task that the best horse-breaker in the +country might reasonably have shrunk from, and all to please the +brutal nature of Jake Harnach. + +"And you've christened her 'Lady Jezebel'?" she asked. + +Tresler laughed. "Why, yes, it seems to suit her," he said +indifferently. + +Then a slight pause followed which amounted almost to awkwardness. The +girl had come to find him. Her visit was not a matter of chance. She +wanted to talk to this man from the East. And, somehow, Tresler +understood that this was so. For some moments she sat stroking +Bessie's shoulder with her rawhide riding-switch. The mare grew +restive. She, too, seemed to understand something of the awkwardness, +and did her best to break it up by one or two of her frivolous +gambols. When she had been pacified, the girl leaned forward in her +saddle and looked straight into her companion's eyes. + +"Tell me," she said, abruptly; "why did you ride that animal?" + +The man laughed a little harshly. "Because--well, because I hadn't +sense enough to refuse, I suppose." + +"Ah, I understand. Jake Harnach." + +Tresler shrugged. + +"I came out purposely to speak to you," the girl went on, in a quiet, +direct manner. There was not the least embarrassment now. She had made +up her mind to avoid all chance of misunderstanding. "I want to put +matters quite plainly before you. This morning's business was only a +sequel to your meeting with Jake, or rather a beginning of the +sequel." + +Tresler shook his head and smiled. "Not the beginning of the sequel. +That occurred last evening, after I left you." + +Diane looked a swift inquiry. + +"Yes, Jake is not an easy man. But believe me, Miss Marbolt, you need +have no fear. I see what it is; you, in the kindness of your heart, +dread that I, a stranger here in your land, in your home, may be +maltreated, or even worse by that unconscionable ruffian. Knowing your +father's affliction, you fear that I have no protection from Jake's +murderous savagery, and you are endeavoring bravely to thrust your +frail self between us, and so stave off a catastrophe. Have no fear. I +do not anticipate a collision. He is only an atrocious bully." + +"He is more than that. You underestimate him." + +The girl's face had darkened. Her lips were firmly compressed, and an +angry fire burned in her usually soft eyes. + +Tresler, watching, read the hatred for Jake; read the hatred, and saw +that which seemed so out of place in the reliant little face. A +pronounced fear was also expressed, and the two were so marked that it +was hard to say which feeling predominated. Hatred had stirred depths +of fire in her beautiful eyes, but fear had paled her features, had +set drawn lines about her mouth and brows. He wondered. + +"You are right, Mr. Tresler, in that you think I dread for your +safety," she went on presently. "It was certainly that dread that +brought me out here to-day. You do not anticipate a collision because +you are a brave man. You have no fear, therefore you give no thought +to possibilities. I am weak and a woman, and I see with eyes of +understanding and knowledge of Jake, and I know that the collision +will be forced upon you; and, further, when the trouble comes, Jake +will take no chances. But you must not think too well of me. Believe +me, there is selfishness at the root of my anxiety. Do you not see +what trouble it will cause to us; my father, me?" + +Tresler looked away. The girl had a strange insistence. It seemed to +him folly to consider the matter so seriously. He was convinced that +she was holding something back; that she was concealing her real +reason--perhaps the reason of her own fear of Jake--for thus +importuning him. It did not take him long to make up his mind with +those lovely, appealing eyes upon him. He turned back to her with a +frank smile, and held out his hand. Diane responded, and they shook +hands like two friends making a bargain. + +"You are right, Miss Marbolt," he said. "I promise you to do all in my +power to keep the peace with Jake. But," and here he held up a finger +in mock warning, "anything in the nature of a physical attack will be +resented--to the last." + +Diane nodded. She had obtained all the assurance he would give, she +knew, and wisely refrained from further pressure. + +Now a silence fell. The sun was dropping low in the west, and already +the shadows on the grass were lengthening. Tresler brought his +grazing horse back. When he returned Diane reverted to something he +had said before. + +"This 'sequel' you spoke of. You didn't tell me it." Her manner had +changed, and she spoke almost lightly. + +"The matter of the sequel was a trivial affair, and only took the form +of Jake's spleen in endeavoring to make my quarters as uncomfortable +for me as possible. No, the incident I had chiefly in mind was +something altogether different. It was all so strange--so very +strange," he went on reflectively. "One adventure on top of another +ever since my arrival. The last, and strangest of all, did not occur +until nearly midnight." + +He looked up with a smile, but only to find that Diane's attention was +apparently wandering. + +The girl was gazing out over the waving grass-land with deep, +brooding, dreamy eyes. There was no anger in them now, only her +features looked a little more drawn and hard. The man waited for a +moment, then as she did not turn he went on. + +"You have strange visitors at the ranch, Miss Marbolt--very strange. +They come stealthily in the dead of night; they come through the +shelter of the pinewoods, where it is dark, almost black, at night. +They come with faces masked--at least one face----" + +He got no further. There was no lack of effect now. Diane was round +upon him, gazing at him with frightened eyes. + +"You saw them?" she cried; and a strident ring had replaced her +usually soft tones. + +"Them? Who?" + +For a moment they stared into each other's eyes. He inquiringly; she +with fear and mingled horror. + +"These--these visitors." The words came almost in a whisper. + +"Yes." + +"And what were they like?" + +The girl spoke apprehensively. + +Then Tresler told his story as he had told it to Joe Nelson. And Diane +hung on every word he uttered, searching him through and through with +her troubled eyes. + +"What are you going to do about it?" she asked as he finished. + +Tresler was struck with the peculiarity of the question. She expressed +no surprise, no wonder. It seemed as though the matter was in nowise +new to her. Her whole solicitude was in her anticipation of what he +would do about it. + +"I am not sure," he said, concealing his surprise under a leisurely +manner. "I had intended to tell Jake," he went on a moment later, +"only the Lady Jezebel put it out of my head. I told Joe Nelson last +night. He told me I had seen Red Mask, the cattle thief, and one of +his men. He also tried to get me to promise that I would say nothing +about it to Jake. I refused to give that promise. He gave me no +sufficient reasons, you see, and--well, I failed to see the necessity +for silence." + +"But there is a necessity, Mr. Tresler. The greatest." Diane's tone +was thrilling with an almost fierce earnestness. "Joe was right. Jake +is the last person to whom you should tell your story." + +"Why?" + +"Why?" Diane echoed, with a mirthless laugh. "Pshaw!" + +"Yes, why? I have a right to know, Miss Marbolt." + +"You shall know all I can tell you." The girl seemed on the verge of +making an impulsive statement, but suddenly stopped; and when at last +she did proceed her tone was more calm and so low as to be little +above a whisper. "Visitors such as you have seen have been seen by +others before. The story, as you have told it, has in each case been +told to Jake by the unfortunate who witnessed these strange movements +at night----" + +"Unfortunate?" + +"Yes. The informant has always met with misfortune, accident--whatever +you like to call it. Listen; it is a long story, but I will merely +outline the details I wish to impress on you. Some years ago this Red +Mask appeared from no one knows where. Curiously enough his appearance +was in the vicinity of this ranch. We were robbed, and he vanished. +Some time later he was seen again, much the same as you saw him last +night. One of our boys gave the warning to Jake. Two days later the +poor fellow who informed upon him was found shot on the trail into +Forks. Later, again, another hand witnessed a somewhat similar scene +and gave information. His end was by drowning in a shallow part of the +river. Folks attributed his end to drink, but----Again Red Mask +showed up--always at night--again he was seen, and Jake was warned. +The victim this time met his death by the falling of a rock in the +foot-hills. The rock killed horse and rider. And so it has gone on at +varying intervals. Eight men have been similarly treated. The ninth, +Arizona, barely escaped with his life a little while ago. I've no +doubt but that some accident will happen to him yet. And, mark this, +in each case the warning has gone first to Jake. I may be altogether +wrong; certainly other folks do not look upon the death of these +various men with suspicion, but I have watched, and reasoned out all I +have seen. And----" + +"Why, Jake must----" + +"Hush!" + +Diane gazed round her apprehensively. + +"No, no, Mr. Tresler," she went on hurriedly, "I do not say that; I +dare not think of it. Jake has been with us so long; he cares for +father's interest as for his own. In spite of his terrible nature he +is father's--friend." + +"And the man who intends to marry you," Tresler added to himself. +Aloud he asked, "Then how do you account for it?" + +"That's just it. I--I don't account for it. I only warn you not to +take your story to Jake." + +Tresler drew a step nearer, and stood so close to her that her +dungaree skirt was almost touching him. He looked up in a manner that +compelled her gaze. + +"You do account for it, Miss Marbolt," he said emphatically. + +Nor did the girl attempt denial. Just for a moment there was a +breathless silence. Then Bessie pawed the ground, and thrust her nose +into the face of Tresler's horse in friendly, caressing fashion; and +the movement broke the spell. + +"Urge me no further, Mr. Tresler," Diane exclaimed appealingly. "Do +not make me say something I have no right to say; something I might +have cause to regret all my life. Believe me, I hardly know what to +believe, and what not to believe; I hardly know what to think. I can +only speak as my instinct guides me. Oh, Mr. Tresler, I--I can trust +you. Yes--I know I can." + +The girl's appeal had its effect. Tresler reached up and caught the +little outstretched hands. + +"Yes, you can trust me, Miss Marbolt," he said with infinite kindness. +"You have done the very best thing you could have done. You have given +me your confidence--a trouble that I can see has caused you ages of +unhappiness. I confess you have opened up suspicions that seem almost +preposterous, but you----" He broke off, and stood gazing down +thoughtfully at the two hands he still held clasped within his. Then +he seemed to become suddenly aware of the position, and, with a slight +laugh, released them. "Pardon me," he said, glancing up into the +troubled eyes with a kindly smile. "I was dreaming. Come, let us +return to the ranch. It is time. It will be pleasant riding in the +cool. By Jove, I begin to think that it is more than possible I owe +Jake considerable gratitude after all." + +"You owe him nothing," answered Diane, with angry emphasis. "You owe +him nothing but obedience as a ranch hand, and that you will have to +pay him. For the rest, avoid him as you would a pest." + +Tresler sprang into the saddle, and the horses ambled leisurely off in +the direction of the ranch. And, as he rode, he set aside all thoughts +of Jake and of Red Mask. He thought only of the girl herself, of her +delightful companionship. + +His steady-going horse, with due regard for the sex of his companion, +allowed Bess to lead him by a neck. He traveled amiably by her side, +every now and then raising his nose as though to bite his spirited +little companion, but it was only pretense. Nor did Tresler urge him +faster. He preferred that they should travel thus. He could gaze to +his heart's content upon Diane without displaying rudeness. He could +watch the trim, erect figure, poised so easily and gracefully upon the +saddle. She rode like one born to the saddle, and by the gait of her +mare, he could see that her hands were of the lightest, yet firm and +convincing to the high-mettled animal they controlled. + +The girl was a perfect picture as she rode; her rich, dark hair was +loosely coiled, and several waving ringlets had fluffed loose with the +breeze and motion of riding, and strayed from the shadow of her wide +hat. Tresler's thoughts went back to his home; and, he told himself, +none of the horsewomen he had known could have displayed such an +abundant grace in the saddle with their rigid habits and smart hats. +There was nothing of the riding-school here; just the horsemanship +that is so much a natural instinct. + +And so they rode on to the ranch. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE KILLING OF MANSON ORR + + +All was still and drowsy about the ranch. Every available hand was out +at work upon some set task, part of the daily routine of the cattle +world. Mosquito Bend was a splendid example of discipline, for Jake +was never the man to let his men remain idle. Even Arizona had been +set to herd the milch cows and generally tend the horses remaining in +the barn; and Tresler, too, was further acquainting himself with the +cantankerous nature of barbed-wire fencing. + +On this particular afternoon there was nothing about the ranch to +indicate the undercurrent of trouble Tresler had so quickly discovered +to be flowing beneath its calm surface. The sun was pouring down upon +the wiltering foliage with a fierceness which had set the insect world +droning its drowsy melody; the earth was already parching; the sloughs +were already dry, and the tall grass therein was rapidly ripening +against the season of haying. But in spite of the seeming peace; in +spite of the cloudless sky, the pastoral beauty of the scene, the +almost inaudible murmur of the distant river, the tide was flowing +swiftly and surely. It was leaping with the roar of a torrent. + +A clatter of horse's hoofs broke up the quiet, and came rattling over +the river trail. The noise reached Jake's ears and set him alert. He +recognized the eager haste, the terrific speed, of the animal +approaching. He rose from his bunk and stood ready, and a look of deep +interest was in his bold black eyes. Suddenly a horseman came into +view. He was leaning well over his horse's neck, urging to a race with +whip and spur. Jake saw him sweep by and breast the rise to the +rancher's house. + +At the verandah the man flung off his horse, and left the drooping +beast standing while he hammered at the door. There was some delay, +and he repeated his summons still more forcibly, adding his voice to +his demand. + +"Hello there!" he called. "Any one in?" + +"Archie Orr," Jake muttered to himself, as he stepped out of his hut. + +The next moment the man at the verandah was caught up in the full +blast of the foreman's half-savage and wholly hectoring protest. + +"What blazin' racket are you raisin' ther'?" he roared, charging up +the hill with heavy, hurried strides. "This ain't Skitter Reach, you +dog-gone coyote, nor that ain't your pap's shanty. What's itchin' you, +blast you?" + +Archie swung round at the first shout. There was a wild expression on +his somewhat weak face. It was the face of a weak nature suddenly +worked up into the last pitch of frenzy. But even so the approach of +Jake was not without its effect. His very presence was full of threat +to the weaker man. Archie was no physical coward, but, in that first +moment of meeting, he felt as if he had been suddenly taken by the +collar, lifted up and shaken, and forcibly set down on his feet again. +And his reply came in a tone that voiced the mental process he had +passed through. + +"I've come for help. I was in Forks last night, and only got home this +afternoon," he answered, with unnatural calmness. Then the check gave +way before his hysterical condition, and Jake's momentary influence +was lost upon him. "I tell you it's Red Mask! It's him and his gang! +They've shot my father down; they've burned us out, and driven off our +stock! God's curse on the man! But I'll have him. I'll hunt him down. +Ha! ha!" The young man's blue eyes flashed and his face worked as his +hysteria rose and threatened to overwhelm him. "You hear?" he shouted +on--"what does it say? Blood for blood. I'll have it! Give me some +help. Give me horses, and I'll have it! I'll----" His voice had risen +to a shriek. + +"You'll shut off that damned noise, or"--Jake's ferocious face was +thrust forward, and his fierce eyes glared furiously into the +other's--"or git." + +Archie shrank back silenced at once. The effect suited the foreman, +and he went on with a sardonic leer-- + +"An' you'll have 'blood for blood' o' Red Mask? You? You who was away +boozin' in Forks when you'd a right to ha' been around lookin' to see +that old skinflint of a father o' yours didn't git no hurt. You're +goin' to round up Red Mask; you who ain't got guts enough but to crawl +round here fer help to do it. You!" + +A hot reply sprang to the youngster's lips in spite of his fear of +this man, but it died suddenly as a voice from within the doorway +broke in upon them. + +"And a right purpose too, Archie." + +Diane stepped out on to the verandah and ranged herself at his side, +while her scornful brown eyes sought the foreman's face. There was a +moment's pause, then she looked up into the boy's troubled face. + +"You want to see my father?" + +Archie was only eighteen, and though well grown and muscular, he was +still only a boy. + +"Yes, Miss Diane; I do want to see him. I want to borrow a couple of +horses from him, and to ask his advice." + +Archie's recent heat and hysteria had soothed under the influence of +the girl's presence. He now stood bowed and dejected; he appeared to +have suddenly grown old. Jake watched the scene with a sneer on his +brutal face, but remained silent now that Diane was present. + +"I will rouse him myself," she said quietly, moving toward the door. +"Yes, you shall see him, Archie. I heard what you said just now, and +I'll tell him. But----" She broke off, hesitating. Then she came back +to him. "Is--is your father dead, or--only wounded?" + +The boy's head dropped forward, and two great tears rolled slowly down +his cheeks. Diane turned away, and a far-off look came into her steady +brown eyes. There was a silence for a moment, then a deep, +heart-broken sob came from the lad at her side. She flashed one hard +glance in Jake's direction and turned to her companion, gently +gripping his arm in a manner that expressed a world of womanly +sympathy. Her touch, her quiet, strong helpfulness, did more for him +than any formal words of condolence could have done. He lifted his +head and dashed the tears from his face; and the girl smiled +encouragement upon him. + +"Wait here," she said; "I will go and fetch father." + +She slipped away, leaving the two men alone. And when she had gone, +the foreman's raucous voice sounded harshly on the still air. + +"Say, you ain't smart, neither. We got one of your kidney around here +now. Kind o' reckons to fix the old man through the girl. Most +weak-kneed fellers gamble a pile on petticoats. Wal, I guess you're +right out. Marbolt ain't easy that way. You'll be sorry you fetched +him from his bed, or I don't know him." + +Archie made no reply. Nor was any more talk possible, for at that +moment there came the steady tap, tap, of the blind man's stick down +the passage, and the two men faced the door expectantly. The rancher +shuffled out on to the verandah. Diane was at his side, and led him +straight over to young Orr. The old man's head was poised alertly for +a second; then he turned swiftly in the foreman's direction. + +"Hah! that you, Jake?" He nodded as he spoke, and then turned back to +the other. The blind man's instinct seemed something more than human. + +"Eh? Your father murdered, boy?" Marbolt questioned, without the least +softening of tone. "Murdered?" + +Archie gulped down his rising emotion. But there was no life in his +answer--his words came in a tone of utter hopelessness. + +"Yes, sir; shot down, I gather, in defense of our homestead." + +The steady stare of the rancher's red eyes was hard to support. Archie +felt himself weaken before the personality of this man he had come to +see. + +"Gather?" + +The hardness of his greeting had now changed to the gentleness of tone +in which the blind man usually spoke. But the boy drew no confidence +from it while confronted by those unseeing eyes. It was Diane who +understood and replied for him. + +"Yes; Archie was in Forks last night, on business, father. He only +learned what had happened on returning home this afternoon. He--he +wants some help." + +"Yes, sir," Archie went on quickly; "only a little help. I came home +to find our homestead burned clean out. Not a roof left to shelter my +mother and sister, and not one living beast left upon the place, +except the dogs. Oh, my God, it is awful! Mother and Alice were +sitting beside the corral gate weeping fit to break their hearts over +the dead body of father when I found them. And the story, as I learned +it, sir, was simple--horribly, terribly simple. They were roused at +about two in the morning by the dogs barking. Father, thinking timber +wolves were around, went out with a gun. He saw nothing till he got to +the corrals. Then mother, watching from her window, saw the flash of +several guns, and heard the rattle of their reports. Father dropped. +Then the gang of murderers roused out the stock, and some drove it +off, while others wantonly fired the buildings. It was Red Mask, sir, +for he came up to the house and ordered mother out before the place +was fired. She is sure it was him because of his mask. She begged him +not to burn her home, but the devil had no remorse; he vouchsafed only +one reply. Maybe she forced him to an answer with her appeal; maybe he +only spoke to intimidate others who might hear of his words from her. +Anyway, he said, 'Your man and you open your mouths too wide around +this place. Manson Orr wrote in to the police, and asked for +protection. You won't need it now, neither will he.'" He paused, while +the horror of his story sank deeply into the heart of at least one of +his hearers. Then he went on with that eager, nervous fire he had at +first displayed: "Mr. Marbolt, I look to you to help me. I've got +nothing to keep me now from following this devil of a man. I want to +borrow horses, and I'll hunt him down. I'll hunt him down while I've a +breath left in my body, sir," he went on, with rising passion. "I'll +pay him if it takes me my lifetime! Only lend me the horses, sir. It +is as much to your interest as mine, for he has robbed you before now; +your property is no more safe than any other man's. Let us combine to +fight him, to bring him down, to measure him his full measure, to send +him to hell, where he belongs. I'll do this----" + +"Yes, while your mother and sister starve," put in the blind man, +drily. Then, as the fire of Archie's passion suddenly sank at the +cold, incisive words, and he remained silent and abashed, he went on, +in quiet, even tones, while his red eyes were focussed upon his +visitor's face with disconcerting directness, "No, no; go you--I won't +say 'home,' but go you to your mother and sister: look after them, +care for them, work for them. You owe that to them before any act of +vengeance be made. When you have achieved their comfort, you are at +liberty to plunge into any rashness you choose. I am no youngster, +Archie Orr, I am a man of years, who has seen, all my life, only +through a brain rendered doubly acute by lack of sight, and my advice +is worthy of your consideration. You have nothing more to fear from +Red Mask at present, but if you continue your headlong course you will +have; and, as far as I can make out, his hand is heavy and swift in +falling. Go back to your women-folk, I say. You can get no horses from +me for such a foolhardy purpose as you meditate." + +Diane had watched her father closely, and as he finished speaking, she +moved toward the bereaved man and laid a hand upon his arm in gentle +appeal. + +"Father is right, Archie. Go back to them, those two lonely, +broken-hearted women. You can do all for them if you will. They need +all that your kind, honest heart can bestow. It is now that you must +show the stuff you are made of." + +Archie had turned away; but he looked round and mechanically glanced +down at the brown hand still resting upon his arm. The sight of it +held him for some moments, and when he raised his head a new look was +in his eyes. The sympathy in her tones, the gentle encouragement of +the few words she had spoken, had completed that which the sound but +unsympathetic advice of her father had begun. + +His purpose had been the wild impulse of unstable youth; there was no +strength to it, no real resolution. Besides, he was a gentle-hearted +lad, to whom Diane's appeal for his mother and sister was +irresistible. + +"Thank you, Miss Diane," he said, with a profound sigh. "Your kind +heart has seen where my anger has been blind. Yes, I will return and +help my mother. And I thank you, sir," he went on, turning reluctantly +to face the stare of the rancher's eyes again. "You, too, have plainly +shown me my duty, and I shall follow it, but--if ever----" + +"And you'll do well," broke in Jake, with a rough laugh that jarred +terribly. "Your father's paid his pound. If his son's wise, he'll hunt +his hole." + +Archie's eyes flashed ominously. Diane saw the look, and, in an +instant, drew his attention to his horse, which was moving off toward +the barn. + +"See, Archie," she said, with a gentle smile, "your horse is weary, +and is looking for rest." + +The boy read her meaning. He held out his hand impulsively, and the +girl placed hers into it. In a moment his other had closed over it, +and he shook it tenderly. Then, without a word, he made off after his +horse. + +The blind man's face was turned in his direction as he went, and when +the sound of his footsteps had died away, he turned abruptly and +tapped his way back to the door. At the threshold he turned upon the +foreman. + +"Two days in succession I have been disturbed," he gritted out. "You +are getting past your work, Jake Harnach." + +"Father----" Diane started forward in alarm, but he cut her short. + +"And as for you, miss, remember your place in my house. Go, look to +your duties. Sweep, wash, cook, sew. Those are the things your sex is +made for. What interest have you, dare you have, in that brainless +boy? Let him fight his own battles. It may make a man of him; though I +doubt it. He is nothing to you." + +Diane shrank before the scathing blast of that sightless fury. But she +rallied to protest. + +"It is the women-folk, father." + +"Women-folk? Bah!" + +He threw up his hands in ineffable scorn, and shuffled away into the +house. + +Jake, still smarting under the attack, stood leaning against the +verandah post. He was looking away down at the bunkhouse, where a +group of the men were gathered about Archie Orr, who, seated on his +horse, was evidently telling his tale afresh. + +Diane approached him. He did not even turn to meet her. + +"Jake, I want Bess at once. Hitch her to the buckboard, and have her +sent round to the kitchen door." + +"What are you goin' to do, my girl?" he asked, without shifting his +gaze. + +"Maybe I shall drive over to see those poor women." + +"Maybe?" + +"Yes." + +"You can't have her." + +Jake turned, and looked down at her from his great height. Archie Orr +had just ridden off. + +Diane returned his look fearlessly, and there was something in the +directness of her gaze that made the giant look away. + +"I think I can," she said quietly. "Go and see to it now." + +The man started. It seemed as if he were about to bluster. His bold, +black eyes flashed ominously, and it was plain from his attitude that +a flat and harsh refusal was on his lips. But somehow he didn't say +it. The brutality of his expression slowly changed as he looked at +her. A gentle light stole slowly, and it seemed with difficulty, into +his eyes, where it looked as out of place as the love-light in the +eyes of a tiger. But there was no mistaking it. However incongruous it +was there, and the lips that had been framing a cruel retort merely +gave utterance to a quiet acquiescence. + +"All right. I'll send her round in five minutes." + +And Diane went into the house at once. + +Meanwhile, a great discussion of young Orr's affairs was going on at +the bunkhouse. Arizona had vacated his favorite seat, and was now +holding the floor. His pale face was flushed with a hectic glow of +excitement. He was taxing his little stock of strength to the +uttermost, and, at least, some of those looking on listening to him +knew it. + +"I tell you ther' ain't nothin' fer it but to roll up to old blind +hulks an' ast him to send us out. Ef this dog-gone skunk's let be, +ther' ain't no stock safe. Guess I've had my med'cine from 'em, and +I'm jest crazy fer more. I've had to do wi' fellers o' their kidney +'fore, I guess. We strung six of 'em up in a day on the same tree down +Arizona way, as that gray-headed possum, Joe Nelson, well remembers. +Say, we jest cleaned our part o' that country right quick. Guess ther' +wa'n't a 'bad man' wuth two plugs o' nickel chawin' around when we'd +finished gettin' 'em. Say, this feller's played it long enough, an' +I'm goin' right now to see the boss. He's around. Who's comin'?" + +"Yes, an' Archie Orr's a pore sort o' crittur to git left wi' two +women-folk," said Raw Harris, rising from his upturned bucket and +putting forth his argument, regardless of its irrelevance. "Not a +stick to shelter him--which I mean 'them.' An' not a dog-gone cent +among 'em. By G----, Arizona's right." + +"That's it," put in Joe Nelson; "you've hit it. Not a dog-gone cent +among 'em, an', what's more, owin' blind hulks a whole heap o' bills +on mortgage. Say, that was mostly a weak move him askin' the boss fer +help. Why, I guess old Marbolt hates hisself on'y one shade wuss'n he +hated Manson Orr. Say, boys, ef we're askin' to lynch Red Mask, we +ain't askin' in any fancy name like 'Orr.' Savee?" + +There was silence for a moment while they digested the wisdom of the +suggestion. Then Jacob Smith nodded, and Lew Cawley murmured-- + +"Dead gut every time, is Joe." + +This loosened their tongues again until Tresler spoke. + +"See here, boys, you're talking of lynching, and haven't a notion of +how you're going to get your man. Don't even know where to lay hands +on him. Do you think Marbolt's going to turn us all loose on the +war-path? Not he. And how are two or three of us going to get a gang +of ten or twelve? Besides, I believe it'll be easier to get him +without a lynching party. Remember he's no ordinary cattle-rustler. I +say lie low, he'll come our way, and then----" + +"That's it, lie low," broke in Joe Nelson, shaking his gray head over +a pannikin of tea, and softly blowing a clearing among the dead flies +floating on its surface. "Maybe y' ain't heard as the sheriff's come +around Forks. Guess he's fixed a station ther'." + +"He's already done so?" asked Tresler. + +"Yup." + +"By Jove! The very thing, boys. Don't roll up. Don't do any lynching. +The sheriff's the boy for Red Mask." + +But Arizona, backed by Raw Harris, would have none of it. They were of +the old-time stock who understood only old-time methods, and cordially +resented any peaceful solution to the difficulty. They wanted a +lynching, and no argument would dissuade them. And after much +discussion it was Arizona's final word that carried the day. + +"Now, you see, Tresler," he said huskily, for his voice was tired with +sustained effort. "You're the remarkablest smart 'tenderfoot' that +ever I see. Say, you're a right smart daddy--an' I ain't given to +latherin' soap-suds neither. But ther's suthin's I calc'late that no +'tenderfoot,' smart as he may be, is goin' to locate right. Hoss +thieves is hoss thieves, an' needs stringin'. Ther' ain't nuthin' for +it but a rawhide rope fer them fellers. Guess I've seen more'n you've +heerd tell of. Say, boys, who's goin' to see the boss? Guess he's +right ther' on the verandah." + +Though there was no verbal reply as the wild American turned to move +off, there was a general movement to follow him. Raw Harris started +it. Pannikins were set down upon the ground, and, to a man, the rest +followed in their leader's wake. Tresler went too, but he went only +because he knew it would be useless--even dangerous--to hold back. The +general inclination was to follow the lead of this volcanic man. +Besides, he had only voiced that which appealed to them all. The +gospel of restraint was not in their natures. Only Joe Nelson really +endorsed Tresler's opinion. But then Joe was a man who had lived his +youth out, and had acquired that level-headedness from experience +which Tresler possessed instinctively. Besides, he was in touch with +Diane. He had lived more than ten years on that ranch, during which +time he had stood by watching with keenly observant eyes the doings of +the cattle world about him. But he, too, in spite of his own good +reason, moved on to the verandah with the rest. + +And Jake saw the movement and understood, and he reached the verandah +first and warned the blind man of their coming. + +And Tresler's prophecy was more than fulfilled. As they came they saw +the rancher rise from his seat. He faced them, a tall, awesome figure +in his long, full dressing-gown. His large, clean-cut head, his gray, +clipped beard, the long aquiline nose, and, overshadowing all, his +staring, red eyes; even on Arizona he had a damping effect. + +"Well?" he questioned, as the men halted before him. Then, as no +answer was forthcoming, he repeated his inquiry. "Well?" + +And Arizona stepped to the front. "Wal, boss, it's this a-ways," he +began. "These rustlers, I guess----" + +But the blind man cut him short. The frowning brows drew closer over +the sightless eyes, which were focussed upon the cowpuncher with a +concentration more overpowering than if their vision had been +unimpaired. + +"Eh? So you've been listening to young Orr," he said, with a quietness +in marked contrast to the expression of his face. "And you want to get +after them?" Then he shook his head, and the curious depression of his +brows relaxed, and a smile hovered round his mouth. "No, no, boys; +it's useless coming to me. Worse than useless. You, Arizona, should +know better. There are not enough ranches round here to form a +lynching party, if one were advisable. And I can't spare men from +here. Why, to send enough men from here to deal with this gang would +leave my place at their mercy. Tut, tut, it is impossible. You must +see it yourselves." + +"But you've been robbed before, sir," Arizona broke out in protest. + +"Yes, yes." There was a grating of impatience in the blind man's +voice, and the smile had vanished. "And I prefer to be robbed of a few +beeves again rather than run the chance of being burned out by those +scoundrels. I'll have no argument about the matter. I can spare no +hand among you. I'll not police this district for anybody. You +understand--for anybody. I will not stop you--any of you"--his words +came with a subtle fierceness now, and were directed at Arizona--"but +of this I assure you, any man who leaves this ranch to set out on any +wild-goose chase after these rustlers leaves it for good. That's all I +have to say." + +Arizona was about to retort hotly, but Tresler, who was standing close +up to him, plucked at his shirt-sleeve, and, strangely enough, his +interference had its effect. The man glared round, but when he saw who +it was that had interrupted him, he made no further effort to speak. +The wild man of the prairie was feeling the influence of a stronger, +or, at least, a steadier nature than his own. And Jake's lynx eyes +watching saw the movement, and he understood. + +The men moved reluctantly away. Their moody looks and slouching gait +loudly voiced their feelings. No words passed between them until they +were well out of ear-shot. And Tresler realized now the wonderful +power of brain behind the sightless eyes of the rancher. Now, he +understood something of the strength which had fought the battle, +sightless though he was, of those early days; now he comprehended the +man who could employ a man of Jake's character, and have strength +enough to control him. That afternoon's exhibition made a profound +impression on him. + +Their supper was finished before they set out for the house, and now +the men, murmuring, discontented, and filled with resentment against +the rancher, loafed idly around the bunkhouse. They smoked and chewed +and discussed the matter as angry men who are thwarted in their plans +will ever do. Tresler and Joe alone remained quiet. Tresler, for the +reason that a definite plan was gradually forming in his brain out of +the chaos of events, and Joe because he was watching the other for his +own obscure reasons. + +The sun had set when Tresler separated himself from his companions. +Making his way down past the lower corrals he took himself to the +ford. Joe thoughtfully watched him go. + +Seated on a fallen tree-trunk Tresler pondered long and deeply. He was +thinking of Joe's information that the sheriff had at last set up a +station at Forks. Why should he not carry his story to him? Why should +he not take this man into his confidence, and so work out the trapping +of the gang? And, if Jake were---- + +He had no time to proceed further. His thoughts were interrupted by +the sound of wheels, followed, a moment later, by the splash of a +horse crossing the ford. He turned in the direction whence the sound +came, and beheld Bessie hauling a buckboard up the bank of the river; +at the same instant he recognized the only occupant of the vehicle. It +was Diane returning from her errand of mercy. + +Tresler sprang to his feet. He doffed his prairie hat as the +buckboard drew abreast of him. Nor was he unmindful of the sudden +flush that surged to the girl's cheeks as she recognized him. Without +any intention Diane checked the mare, and, a moment later, realizing +what she had done, she urged her on with unnecessary energy. But +Tresler had no desire that she should pass him in that casual fashion, +and, with a disarming smile, hailed her. + +"Don't change a good mind, Miss Marbolt," he cried. + +Whereat the blush returned to the girl's cheek intensified, for she +knew that he had seen her intention. This time, however, she pulled up +decidedly, and turned a smiling face to him. + +"This is better than I bargained for," he went on. "I came here to +think the afternoon's events out, and--I meet you. I had no idea you +were out." + +"I felt that Bess wanted exercise," the girl answered evasively. + +Without asking herself why, Diane felt pleased at meeting this man. +Their first encounter had been no ordinary one. From the beginning he +seemed to link himself with her life. For her their hours of +acquaintance might have been years; years of mutual help and +confidence. However, she gathered her reins up as though to drive on. +Tresler promptly stayed her. + +"No, don't go yet, Miss Marbolt, please. Pleasures that come +unexpectedly are pleasures indeed. I feel sure you will not cast me +back upon my gloomy thoughts." + +Diane let the reins fall into her lap. + +"So your thoughts were gloomy; well, I don't wonder at it. There are +gloomy things happening. I was out driving, and thought I would look +in at Mosquito Reach. It has been razed to the ground." + +"You have been to see--and help--young Orr's mother and sister? I know +it. It was like you, Miss Marbolt," Tresler said, with a genuine look +of admiration at the dark little face so overshadowed by the sun-hat. + +"Don't be so ready to credit me with virtues I do not possess. We +women are curious. Curiosity is one of our most pronounced features. +Poor souls--their home is gone. Utterly--utterly gone. Oh, Mr. +Tresler, what are we to do? We cannot remain silent, and yet--we don't +know. We can prove nothing." + +"And what has become of them--I mean Mrs. Orr and her daughter?" +Tresler asked, for the moment ignoring the girl's question. + +"They have gone into Forks." + +"And food and money?" + +"I have seen to that." Diane shrugged her shoulders to make light of +what she had done, but Tresler would not be put off. + +"Bless you for that," he said, with simple earnestness. "I knew I was +right." Then he reverted abruptly to her question. "But we can do +something; the sheriff has come to Forks." + +"Yes, I know." Diane's tone suddenly became eager, almost hopeful. +"And father knows, and he is going to send in a letter to +Fyles--Sheriff Fyles is the great prairie detective, and is in charge +of Forks--welcoming him, and inviting him out here. He is going to +tell him all he knows of these rustlers, and so endeavor to set him on +their track. Father laughs at the idea of the sheriff catching these +men. He says that they--the rustlers--are no ordinary gang, but clever +men, and well organized. But he thinks that if he gets Fyles around it +will save his property." + +"And your father is wise. Yes, it will certainly have that effect; but +I, too, have a little idea that I have been working at, and--Miss +Marbolt, forgive the seeming impertinence, but I want to discuss Jake +again; this time from a personal point of view. You dislike Jake; +more, you have shown me that you fear him." + +The girl hesitated before replying. This man's almost brusque manner +of driving straight to his point was somewhat alarming. He gave her no +loophole. If she discussed the matter with him at all it must be +fully, or she must refuse to answer him. + +"I suppose I do fear him," she said at last with a sigh. Then her face +suddenly lit up with an angry glow. "I fear him as any girl would fear +the man who, in defiance of her expressed hatred, thrusts his +attentions upon her. I fear him because of father's blindness. I fear +him because he hopes in his secret heart some day to own this ranch, +these lands, all these splendid cattle, our fortune. Father will be +gone then. How? I don't know. And I--I shall be Jake's slave. These +are the reasons why I fear Jake, Mr. Tresler, since you insist on +knowing." + +"I thank you, Miss Marbolt." The gentle tone at once dispelled the +girl's resentment. "You have suspicions which may prove to be right. +It was for this reason I asked you to discuss Jake. One thing more +and I'll have done. This Joe Nelson, he is very shrewd, he is in close +contact with you. How far is he to be trusted?" + +"To any length; with your life, Mr. Tresler," the girl said with +enthusiasm. "Joe is nobody's enemy but his own, poor fellow. I am +ashamed to admit it, but I have long since realized that when things +bother me so that I cannot bear them all alone, it is Joe that I look +to for help. He is so kind. Oh, Mr. Tresler, you cannot understand the +gentleness, the sympathy of his honest old heart. I am very, very fond +of Joe." + +The man abruptly moved from his stand at the side of the buckboard, +and looked along the trail in the direction of the ranch. His action +was partly to check an impulse which the girl's manner had roused in +him, and partly because his quick ears had caught the sound of some +one approaching. He was master of himself in a moment, however, and, +returning, smiled up into the serious eyes before him. + +"Well, Joe shall help me," he said. "He shall help me as he has helped +you. If----" he broke off, listening. Then with great deliberation he +came close up to the buckboard. "Miss--Diane," he said, and the girl's +lids lowered before the earnestness of his gaze, "you shall +never--while I live--be the slave of Jake Harnach." + +Nor had Tresler time to move away before a tall figure rounded the +bend of the trail. In the dusk he mistook the newcomer for Jake, then, +as he saw how slim he was, he realized his mistake. + +The man came right up to the buckboard with swift, almost stealthy +strides. The dark olive of his complexion, the high cheek-bones, the +delicately chiseled, aquiline nose, the perfectly penciled eyebrows +surmounting the quick, keen, handsome black eyes; these things +combined with the lithe, sinuous grace of an admirably poised body +made him a figure of much attraction. + +The man ignored Tresler, and addressed the girl in the buckboard in a +tone that made the former's blood boil. + +"The boss, him raise hell. Him say, 'I mak' her wish she not been born +any more.' Him say, 'Go you, Anton, an' find her, an' you not leave +her but bring her back.' Ho, the boss, your father, he mad. Hah?" The +half-breed grinned, and displayed a flashing set of teeth. "So I go," +he went on, still smiling in his impudent manner. "I look out. I see +the buckboard come down to the river. I know you come. I see from +there back"--he pointed away to the bush--"you talk with this man, an' +I wait. So!" + +Diane was furious. Her gentle brown eyes flashed, and two bright +patches of color burned on her cheeks. The half-breed watched her +carelessly. Turning to Tresler she held out her hand abruptly. + +"Good-night, Mr. Tresler," she said quietly. Then she chirruped to her +light-hearted mare and drove off. + +Anton looked after her. "Sacre!" he cried, with a light shrug. "She is +so mad--so mad. Voilà!" and he leisurely followed in the wake of the +buckboard. + +And Tresler looked after him. Then it was that his thoughts reverted +to the scene in the saloon at Forks. So this was Anton--"Black" +Anton--the man who had slid into the country without any one knowing +it. He remembered Slum Ranks's words and description. This was the man +who had the great Jake's measure. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +WHICH DEALS WITH THE MATTER OF DRINK + + +Although the murder of Manson Orr caused a wide-spread outcry, it +ended at that in so far as the inhabitants of the district were +concerned. There were one or two individuals who pondered deeply on +the matter, and went quietly about a careful investigation, and of +these Tresler was the most prominent. He found excuse to visit the +scene of the outrage; he took interest in the half-breed settlement +six miles out from Mosquito Bend. He hunted among the foot-hills, even +into the obscurer confines of the mountains; and these doings of his +were the result of much thought, and the work of much time and +ingenuity; for everything had to be done without raising the suspicion +of anybody on the ranch, or for that matter, off it. Being a "green" +hand helped him. It was really astonishing how easily an intelligent +man like Tresler could get lost; and yet such was the deplorable fact. +Even Arizona's opinion of him sank to zero, while Jake found a wide +scope for his sneering brutality. + +As the days lengthened out into a week, and then a fortnight passed +and nothing more was heard of Red Mask, the whole matter began to pass +out of mind, and gradually became relegated to the lore of the +country. It was added to the already long list of barroom stories, to +be narrated, with embellishments, by such men as Slum or the worthy +Forks carpenter. + +The only thing that stuck in people's minds, and that only because it +added fuel to an already deep, abiding, personal hatred, was the story +of Julian Marbolt's treatment of young Archie Orr, and his refusal to +inaugurate a vigilance party. The blind man's name, always one to +rouse the roughest side of men's tongues, was now cursed more bitterly +than ever. + +And during these days the bunkhouse at Mosquito Bend seethed with +revolt. But though this was so, underneath all their most bitter +reflections the men were not without a faint hope of seeing the career +of these desperadoes cut short; and this hope sprang from the +knowledge of the coming of the sheriff to Forks. The faith of Arizona +and the older hands in the official capacity for dealing with these +people was a frail thing, but the younger set were less sceptical. + +And at last Julian Marbolt's tardy invitation to Fyles was despatched. +Tresler had watched and waited for the sending of that letter; he had +hoped to be the bearer of it himself. It would have given him the +opportunity of making this Fyles's acquaintance, which was a matter he +desired to accomplish as soon as possible, without drawing public +attention to the fact. But in this he was disappointed, for Jake sent +Nelson. Nor did he know of the little man's going until he saw him +astride of his buckskin "shag-an-appy," with the letter safely +bestowed in his wallet. + +This was not the only disappointment he experienced during that +fortnight. He saw little or nothing of Diane. To Tresler, at least, +their meeting at the ford was something more than a recollection. +Every tone of the girl's voice, every look, every word she had spoken +remained with him, as these things will at the dawn of love. Many +times he tried to see her, but failed. Then he learned the meaning of +their separation. One day Joe brought him a note from Diane, in which +she told him how Black Anton had returned to her father and poured +into his only too willing ears a wilfully garbled story of their +meeting at the ford. She told him of her father's anger, and how he +had forbidden her to leave the house unattended by at least one of his +two police--Anton and Jake. This letter made its recipient furious, +but it also started a secret correspondence between them, Joe Nelson +proving himself perfectly willing to act as go-between. And this +correspondence was infinitely pleasant to Tresler. He treasured +Diane's letters with a jealous care, making no attempt to disguise the +truth from himself. He knew that he was falling hopelessly in +love--had fallen hopelessly in love. + +This was the position when the evening of the day came on which the +rancher's invitation to Fyles had been despatched. The supper hash had +been devoured by healthy men with healthy appetites. Work was +practically over, there was nothing more to be done but feed, water, +and bed down the horses. And Joe Nelson had not yet returned from +Forks; he was at least five hours overdue. + +Arizona, practically recovered from his wound, was carefully soaping +his saddle, and generally preparing his accoutrements for return to +full work on the morrow. He had grown particularly sour and irritable +with being kept so long out of the saddle. His volcanic temper had +become even more than usually uncertain. + +His convalescence threw him a good deal into Tresler's company, and a +sort of uncertain friendship had sprung up between them. Arizona at +first tolerated him, protested scathingly at his failures in the +craft, and ended by liking him; while the other cordially appreciated +the open, boisterous honesty of the cowpuncher. He was equally ready +to do a kindly action, or smite the man hip and thigh who chanced to +run foul of him. Tresler often told him that his nationality was a +mistake, that instead of being an American he should have been born in +Ireland. + +Just now the prospect of once more getting to work had put Arizona +in high good temper, and he took his comrades' rough chaff +good-naturedly, giving as good as he got, and often a little better. + +Jacob Smith had been watching him for some time, and a thoughtful grin +had quietly taken possession of his features. + +"Soapin' yer saddle," he observed at last, as the lean man happened to +look up and see the grinning face in the doorway of the bunkhouse. +"Guess saddles do git kind o' slippery when you ain't slung a leg over +one fer a whiles. Say, best soap the knees o' yer pants too, Arizona. +Mebbe y'll sit tighter." + +"Wal," retorted Arizona, bending to his work again, "I do allow ther's +more savee in that tip than most gener'ly slobbers off'n your tongue. +I'll kind o' turn it over some." + +Jacob's grin broadened. "Guess I should. Your plug ain't been saddled +sence you wus sent sick. Soft soap ain't gener'ly in your line; makes +me laff to see you handlin' it." + +"That's so," observed the other, imperturbably. "I 'lows it has its +uses. 'Tain't bad fer washin'. Guess you ain't tried it any?" + +At that moment Raw Harris came across from the barn. He lounged over +to an upturned box and sat down. + +"Any o' you fellers seen Joe Nelson along yet?" he asked as he +leisurely filled his pipe. + +"Five hours overdue," said Tresler, who was cleaning out the chambers +of his revolver. + +"Joe ain't likely to git back this night," observed Arizona. "He's a +terror when he gits alongside a saloon. Guess he's drank out one ranch +of his own down Texas way. He's the all-firedest bag o' tricks I've +ever see. Soft as a babby is Joe. Honest? Wal, I'd smile. Joe's that +honest he'd give up his socks ef the old sheep came along an' claimed +the wool. Him an' me's worked together 'fore. He's gittin' kind o' +old, an' ain't as handy as he used to be. Say, he never told you 'bout +that temperator feller, Tresler, did he?" + +Tresler shook his head, and paused in his work to relight his pipe. + +"It kind o' minds me to tell you sence we're talkin' o' Joe. It likely +shows my meanin' when I sez he's that soft an' honest, an' yet crazy +fer drink. You see, it wus this a-ways. I wus kind o' foreman o' the +'U bar U's' in Canada, an' Joe wus punchin' cows then. The boys wus +sheer grit; good hands, mind you, but sudden-like." + +Arizona ceased plastering the soap on his saddle and stood erect. His +gaunt figure looked leaner than ever, but his face was alight with +interest in the story he was about to narrate, and his great wild eyes +were shining with a look that suggested a sort of fierce amusement. +Teddy Jinks lounged into view and stood propped against an angle of +the building. + +"Git on," said Lew, between the puffs at his pipe. + +Arizona shot a quick, disdainful glance at the powerful figure of the +parson's progeny, and went on in his own peculiar fashion fashion-- + +"Wal, it so happened that the records o' the 'U bar U's' kind o' got +noised abroad some, as they say in the gospel. Them coyotes as +reckoned they wus smart 'lowed as even the cattle found a shortage o' +liquid by reason of an onnatural thirst on that ranch. Howsum, mebbe +ther' wus reason. Old Joe, he wus the daddy o' the lot. Jim Marlin +used to say as Joe most gener'ly used a black lead when he writ his +letters; didn't fancy wastin' ink. Mebbe that's kind o' zaggerated, +but I guess he wus the next thing to a fact'ry o' blottin' paper, +sure. + +"Wal, I reckon some bald-faced galoot got yappin', leastways there wus +a temperance outfit come right along an' lay hold o' the boss. Say, +flannel-mouthed orators! I guess that feller could roll out more juicy +notions on the subject o' drink in five minutes than a high-pressure +locomotive could blow off steam through a five-inch leak in ha'f a +year. He wus an eddication in langwidge, sir, sech as 'ud per-suade a +wall-eyed mule to do what he didn't want, and wa'n't goin' to do +anyways. + +"I corralled the boys up in the yard, an' the feller got good an' +goin'. He spotted Joe right off; fixed him wi' his eye an' focussed +him dead centre, an' talked right at him. An' Joe wus iled--that iled +he couldn't keep a straight trail fer slippin'. Say, speakin' +metaphoric, that feller got the drop on pore Joe. He give him a dose +o' syllables in the pit o' the stummick that made him curl, then he +follered it right up wi' a couple o' slugs o' his choicest, 'fore he +could straighten up. Then he sort o' picked him up an' shook him with +a power o' langwidge, an' sot him down like a spanked kid. Then he +clouted him over both lugs with a shower o' words wi' capitals, +clumped him over the head wi' a bunch o' texts, an' thrashed him wi' a +fact'ry o' trac' papers. Say, I guess pore Joe wouldn't 'a' rec'nized +the flavor o' whisky from blue pizen when that feller had done; an' we +jest looked on, feelin' 'bout as happy as a lot o' old hens worritin' +to hatch out a batch o' Easter eggs. Say, pore Joe wus weepin' over +his sins, an' I guess we wus all 'most ready to cry. Then the feller +up an' sez, 'Fetch out the pernicious sperrit, the nectar o' the +devil, the waters o' the Styx, the vile filth as robs homes o' their +support, an' drives whole races to perdition!' an' a lot o' other big +talk. An', say, we fetched! Yes, sir, we fetched like a lot o' silly, +skippin' lambs. We brought out six bottles o' the worstest rotgut +ever faked in a settlement saloon, an' handed it over. After that I +guess we wus feelin' better. Sez we, feelin' kind o' mumsy over the +whole racket, it ain't right, we sez, to harbor no sperrit-soaked, +liver-pickled tag of a decent citizen's life around this layout; an' +so we took Joe Nelson to the river and diluted him. After that I 'lows +we lay low. I did hear as some o' the boys said their prayers that +night, which goes to show as they wus feelin' kind o' thin an' mean. +Ther' wa'n't a feller ther' but wus dead swore off fer a week. + +"Guess it wus most the middle o' the night when Jim Yard comes to my +shack an' fetched me out. He told me there wus a racket goin' on in +the settlement. That temperator wus down ther' blazin' drunk an' +shootin' up the town. Say, I felt kind o' hot at that. Yup, pretty +sulphury an' hot, an' I went right out, quiet like, and fetched the +boys. Them as had said their prayers wus the first to join me. Wal, we +went along an' did things with that.--Ah, guess Jake's comin' this +way; likely he wants somethin'." + +Arizona turned abruptly to his saddle again, while all eyes looked +over at the approaching foreman. Jake strode up. Arizona took no +notice of him. It was his way of showing his dislike for the man. Jake +permitted one glance--nor was it a friendly one--in his direction, +then he went straight over to where Tresler was sitting. + +"Get that mare of yours saddled, Tresler," he said, "and ride into +Forks. You'll fetch out that skulkin' coyote, Joe Nelson. You'll fetch +him out, savee? Maybe he's at the saloon--sure he's drunk, anyway. +An' if he ain't handed over that letter to the sheriff, you'll see to +it. Say, you'd best shake him up some; don't be too easy." + +"I'll bring him out," replied Tresler, quietly. + +"Hah, kind o' squeamish," sneered Jake. + +"No. I'm not knocking drunken men about. That's all." + +"Wal, go and bring him out," snarled the giant. "I'll see to the +rest." + +Tresler went off to the barn without another word. His going was +almost precipitate, but not from any fear of Jake. It was himself he +feared. This merciless brute drove him to distraction every time he +came into contact with him, and the only way he found it possible to +keep the peace with him at all was by avoiding him, by getting out of +his way, by shutting him out of mind, whenever it was possible. + +In a few minutes he had set out. His uneasy mare was still only half +tamed, and very fresh. She left the yards peaceably enough, but jibbed +at the river ford. The inevitable thrashing followed, Tresler knowing +far too much by now to spare her. Just for one moment she seemed +inclined to submit and behave herself, and take to the water kindly. +Then her native cussedness asserted itself; she shook her head +angrily, and caught the bar of the spade-bit in her great, strong +teeth, swung round, and, stretching her long ewe neck, headed south +across country as hard as she could lay heels to the ground. + +Tresler fought her every foot of the way, but it was useless. The +devil possessed her, and she worked her will on him. By the time he +should have reached Forks he was ten miles in the opposite direction. + +However, he was not the man to take such a display too kindly, and, +having at length regained control, he turned her back and pressed her +to make up time. And it made him smile, as he rode, to feel the swing +of the creature's powerful strides under him. He could not punish her +by asking for pace, and he knew it. She seemed to revel in a rapid +journey, and the extra run taken on her own account only seemed to +have warmed her up to even greater efforts. + +It was nearly ten o'clock when he drew near Forks; and the moon had +only just risen. The mare was docile enough now, and raced along with +her ears pricked and her whole fiery disposition alert. + +The trail approached Forks from the west. That is to say, it took a +big bend and entered on the western side. Already Tresler could see +the houses beyond the trees silhouetted in the moonlight, but the +nearer approach was bathed in shadow. The trail came down from a +rising ground, cutting its way through the bush, and, passing the +lights of the saloon, went on to the market-place. + +He checked the mare's impetuosity as he came down the slope. She was +too valuable for him to risk her legs. With all her vices, he knew +there was not a horse on the ranch that could stand beside the Lady +Jezebel on the trail. + +She propped jerkily as she descended the hill. Every little rustle of +the lank grass startled her, and gave her excuse for frivolity. Her +rider was forced to keep a watchful eye and a close seat. A shadowy +kit fox worried her with its stealthy movements. It kept pace with her +in its silent, ghostly way, now invisible in the long grass, now in +full view beside the trail; but always abreast. + +Half-way down the trail both horse and rider were startled seriously. +A riderless horse, saddled and bridled, dashed out of the darkness and +galloped across them. Of her own accord Lady Jezebel swung round, and, +before Tresler could check her, had set off in hot pursuit. For once +horse and rider were of the same mind, and Tresler bent low in the +saddle, ready to grab at the bridle when his mare should overhaul the +stranger. + +In less than a minute they were abreast of their quarry. The +stranger's reins were hanging broken from the bit, and Tresler grabbed +at them. Nor could he help a quiet laugh, when, on pulling up, he +recognized the buckskin pony and quaint old stock saddle of Joe +Nelson. And he at once became alive to the necessity of his journey. +What, he wondered, had happened to the little choreman? + +Leading the captive, he rode back to the trail and pushed on toward +the village. But his adventures were not over yet. At the bottom of +the hill the mare, brought up to a stand, reared and shied violently. +Then she stood trembling like an aspen, seizing every opportunity to +edge from the trail, and all the while staring with wild, dilated eyes +away out toward the bush on the right front. Her rider followed the +direction of her gaze to ascertain the cause of the trouble. For some +minutes he could distinguish nothing unusual in the darkness. The moon +had not as yet attained much power, and gave him very little +assistance; but, realizing the wonderful acuteness of a horse's +vision, he decided that there nevertheless was something to be +investigated. So he dismounted, and adopting the common prairie method +of scanning the sky-line, he dropped to the ground. + +For some time his search was quite vain, and only the mare's nervous +state encouraged him. Then at length, low down in the deep shadow of +the bush, something caught and held his attention. Something was +moving down there. + +He lay quite still, watching intently. Something of the mare's nervous +excitement gripped him. The movement was ghostly. It was only a +movement. There was nothing distinct to be seen, nothing tangible; +just a weird, nameless something. A dozen times he asked himself what +it was. But the darkness always baffled him, and he could find no +answer. He had an impression of great flapping wings--such wings as +might belong to a giant bat. The movement was sufficiently regular to +suggest this, but the idea carried no conviction. There, however, his +conjectures ended. + +At last he sprang up with a sharp ejaculation, and his hand went to +his revolver. The thing, or creature, whatever it was, was coming +slowly but steadily toward him. Had he not been sure of this, the +attitude of the horses would have settled the question for him. Lady +Jezebel pulled back in the throes of a wild fear, and the buckskin +plunged madly to get free. + +He had hardly persuaded them to a temporary calmness, when a mournful +cry, rising in a wailing crescendo, split the air and died away +abruptly. And he knew that it came from the advancing "movement." + +And now it left the shadow and drew out into the moonlight. And the +man watching beheld a dark heap distinctly outlined midway toward the +bush. The wings seemed to have folded themselves, or, at least, to +have lowered, and were trailing on the ground in the creature's wake. +Presently the whole thing ceased to move, and sat still like a great +loathsome toad--a silent, uncanny heap amidst the lank prairie grass. +And somehow he felt glad that it was no longer approaching. + +The moments crept by, and the position remained unchanged. Then +slowly, with an air of settled purpose, the creature raised itself on +its hind legs, and, swaying and shuffling, continued its advance. In +an instant Tresler's revolver leapt from its holster, and he was ready +to defend himself. The attitude was familiar to him. He had read +stories of the bears in the Rockies, and they came home to him now as +he saw his adversary rear itself to its full height. His puzzlement +was over; he understood now. He was dealing with a large specimen of +the Rocky Mountain grizzly. + +Yes, there could be no mistaking the swaying gait, the curious, +snorting breathing, the sadly lolling head and slow movements. He +remembered each detail with an exactness which astonished him, and was +thrilled with the bristling sensation which assails every hunter when +face to face with big game for the first time in his life. + +He raised his gun, and took a long, steady aim, measuring the distance +with deliberation, and selecting the animal's breast for his shot. +Then, just as he was about to fire, the brute's head turned and caught +the cold, sharp moonlight full upon its face. There was a momentary +flash of white, and Tresler's gun was lowered as though it had been +struck down. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +JOE NELSON INDULGES IN A LITTLE MATCH-MAKING + + +The moonlight had revealed the grotesque features of Joe Nelson! + +Tresler returned his gun to its holster precipitately, and his action +had in it all the chagrin of a man who has been "had" by a practical +joker. His discomfiture, however, quickly gave way before the humor of +the situation, and he burst into a roar of laughter. + +He laughed while he watched his bear drop again to his hands and +knees, and continue to crawl toward him, till the tears rolled down +his cheeks. On came the little fellow, enveloped in the full embracing +folds of a large brown blanket, and his silent dogged progress warned +Tresler that, as yet, his own presence was either unrealized or +ignored in the earnestness of his unswerving purpose. And the nature +of that purpose--for Tresler had fully realized it--was the most +laughable thing of all. Joe was stalking his buckskin pony with the +senseless cunning of a drunken man. + +At last the absurdity of the position became too much, and he hailed +the little choreman in the midst of his laughter. + +"Ho! You, Joe!" he called. "What the blazes d'you think you're doing?" + +There was no reply. For all heed the man under the blanket gave, he +might have been deaf, dumb and blind. He just came steadily on. + +Tresler shouted again, and more sharply. This time his summons had its +effect. It brought an answer--an answer that set him off into a fresh +burst of laughter. + +"Gorl darn it, boys," came a peevish voice, from amidst the blanket, +"'tain't smart, neither, playin' around when a feller's kind o' +roundin' up his plug. How'm I goin' to cut that all-fired buckskin out +o' the bunch wi' you gawkin' around like a reg'ment o' hoboes? Ef you +don't reckon to fool any, why, some o' you git around an' head him off +from the rest of 'em. I'd do it myself on'y my cussed legs has given +out." + +"Boys, eh?" Tresler was still laughing, but he checked his mirth +sufficiently to answer, "Why, man, it's the whisky that's fooling you. +There are no 'boys,' and no 'bunch' of horses here. Just your horse +and mine; and I've got them both safe enough. You're drunk, +Joe--beastly drunk." + +Joe suddenly struggled to his feet and stood swaying uncertainly, but +trying hard to steady himself. He focussed his eyes with much effort +upon the tall figure before him, and then suddenly moved forward like +a man crossing a brook on a single, narrow, and dangerously swaying +plank. He all but pitched headlong into the waiting man as he reached +him, and would undoubtedly have fallen to the ground but for the aid +of a friendly hand thrust out to catch him. And while Tresler turned +to pacify the two thoroughly frightened horses, the little man's angry +tones snapped out at him in what was intended for a dignified +protest. In spite of his drunken condition, his words were distinct +enough, though his voice was thick. After all, as he said, it was his +legs that had given way. + +"Guess you're that blazin' 'tenderfoot' Tresler," he said, with all +the sarcasm he was capable of at the moment. "Wal, say, Mr. a'mighty +Tresler, ef it wa'n't as you wus a 'tenderfoot,' I'd shoot you fer +sayin' I wus drunk. Savee? You bein' a 'tenderfoot,' I'll jest mention +you're side-tracked, you're most on the scrap heap, you've left the +sheer trail an' you're ditched. You've hit a gait you can't travel, +an' don't amount to a decent, full-sized jackass. Savee? I ain't +drunk. It's drink; see? Carney's rotgut. I tell you right here I'm +sober, but my legs ain't. Mebbe you're that fool-headed you don't +savee the difference." + +Tresler restrained a further inclination to laugh. He had wasted too +much time already, and was anxious to get back to the ranch. He quite +realized that Joe knew what he was about, if his legs were +_hors-de-combat_, for, after delivering himself of this, his +unvarnished opinion, he wisely sought the safer vantage-ground of a +sitting posture. + +Tresler grabbed at the blanket and pulled it off his shoulders. + +"What's this?" he asked sharply. + +Joe looked up, his little eyes sparkling with resentment. + +"'Tain't yours, anyway," he said. Then he added with less anger, and +some uncertainty, "Guess I slept some down at the bushes. Durned plug +got busy 'stead o' waitin' around. The fool hoss ain't got no manners +anyways." + +"Manners? Don't blither." Tresler seized him by the coat collar and +yanked him suddenly upon his feet. "Now, hand over that letter to +Sheriff Fyles. I've orders to deliver it myself." + +Joe's twisted face turned upward with a comical expression of +perplexity. The moonlight caught his eyes, and he blinked. Then he +looked over at the horses, and, shaking his head solemnly, began to +fumble at his pockets. + +"S-Sheriff F-Fyles," he answered doubtfully. He seemed to have +forgotten the very name. "F-Fyles?" he repeated again. "Letter? Say, +now, I wus kind o' wonderin' what I cum to Forks fer. Y' see I mostly +git around Forks fer Carney's rotgut. Course, ther' wus a letter. Jest +wher' did I put that now?" He became quite cheerful as he probed his +pockets. + +Tresler waited until, swaying and even stumbling in the process, he +had turned out two pockets; then his impatience getting the better of +him, he proceeded to conduct the search himself. + +"Now see here," he said firmly, "I'll go through your pockets. If +you've lost it, there'll be trouble for you when you get back. If +you'd only kept clear of that saloon you would have been all right." + +"That's so," said Joe humbly, as he submitted to the other's search. + +Tresler proceeded systematically. There was nothing but tobacco and +pipe in the outside pockets of his coat. His trousers revealed a +ten-cent piece and a dollar bill, which the choreman thanked him +profusely for finding, assuring him, regretfully, that he wouldn't +have left the saloon if he had known he had it. The inside pocket of +the coat was drawn blank of all but a piece of newspaper, and Tresler +pronounced his verdict in no measured terms. + +"You drunken little fool, you've lost it," he said, as he held out the +unfolded newspaper. + +Joe seemed past resentment with his fresh trouble. He squinted hard to +get the newspaper into proper focus. + +"Say," he observed meekly, "I guess it wus in that, sure. Sure, yes," +he nodded emphatically, "I planted it that a-ways to kep it from the +dirt. I 'member readin' the headin' o' that paper. Et wus 'bout some +high-soundin' female in New Yo----" + +"Confound it!" Tresler was more distressed for the little man than +angry with him. He knew Jake would be furious, and cast about in his +mind for excuses that might save him. The only one he could think of +was feeble enough, but he suggested it. + +"Well, there's only one thing to do; we must ride back, and you can +say you lost the letter on the way out, and have spent the day looking +for it." + +Joe seemed utterly dejected. "Sure, yes. There's on'y one thing to +do," he murmured disconsolately. "We must ride back. Say, you're sure, +plumb sure it ain't in one of my pockets? Dead sure I must 'a' lost +it?" + +"No doubt of it. Damn it, Joe, I'm sorry. You'll be in a deuce of a +scrape with Jake. It's all that cursed drink." + +"That's so," murmured the culprit mournfully. His face was turned +away. Now it suddenly brightened as though a fresh and more hopeful +view of the matter had presented itself, and his twisted features +slowly wreathed themselves into a smile. His deep-set eyes twinkled +with an odd sort of mischievous humor as he raised them abruptly to +the troubled face of his companion. + +"Guess I kind o' forgot to tell you. I gave the sheriff that letter +this mornin' 'fore I called on Carney. Mebbe, ef I'd told you 'fore +I'd 'a' saved you----" + +"You little----" + +Tresler could find no words to express his exasperation. He made a +grab at the now grinning man's coat collar, seized him, and, lifting +him bodily, literally threw him on to the back of his buckskin pony. + +"You little old devil!" he at last burst out; "you stay there, and +back you go to the ranch. I'll shake the liquor out of you before we +get home." + +Tresler sprang into his saddle, and, turning his mare's head homeward, +led the buckskin and its drunken freight at a rattling pace. And Joe +kept silence for a while. He felt it was best so. But, in the end, he +was the first to speak, and when he did so there was a quiet dryness +in his tone that pointed all he said. + +"Say, Tresler, I'm kind o' sorry you wus put to all that figgerin' an' +argyment," he said, shaking up his old pony to bring him alongside the +speedy mare. "Y' see ye never ast me 'bout that letter. Kind o' jumped +me fer a fool-head at oncet. Which is most gener'ly the nature o' boys +o' your years. Conclusions is mostly hasty, but I 'lows they're +reas'nable in their places--which is last. An' I sez it wi'out +offense, ther' ain't a blazin' thing born in this world that don't +reckon to con-clude fer itself 'fore it's rightly begun. Everything +needs teachin', from a 'tenderfoot' to a New York babby." + +Joe's homily banished the last shadow of Tresler's ill-humor. The +little man had had the best of him in his quiet, half-drunken manner; +a manner which, though rough, was still irresistible. + +"That's all right, Joe. I'm no match for you," he said with a laugh. +"But, setting jokes on one side, I think you're in for trouble with +Jake. I saw it in his eye before I started out." + +"I don't think. Guess I'm plumb sure," Joe replied quietly. + +"Then why on earth did you do it?" + +Joe humped his back with a movement expressive of unconcern. + +"It don't matter why. Jake's nigh killed me ha'f a dozen times. One o' +these days he'll fix me sure. He'll lace hell out o' me to-morrow, I'm +guessin', an' when it's done it won't alter nothin' anyways. I've jest +two things in this world, I notion, an'--one of 'em's drink. 'Tain't +no use in sayin' it ain't, 'cos I guess my legs is most unnateral +truthful 'bout drink. Say, I don't worrit no folk when I'm drunk; +guess I don't interfere wi' no one's consarns when I'm drunk; I'm jest +kind o' happy when I'm drunk. Which bein' so, makes it no one's +bizness but my own. I do it 'cos I gits a heap o' pleasure out o' it. +I know I ain't worth hell room. But I got my notions, an' I ain't +goin' ter budge fer no one." Joe's slantwise mouth was set +obstinately; his little eyes flashed angrily in the moonlight, and his +whole attitude was one of a man combating an argument which his soul +is set against. + +As Tresler had no idea of arguing the question and remained silent, +the choreman went on in a modified tone of morbid self-sympathy +sympathy-- + +"When the time comes around I'll hand over my checks wi'out no fuss +nor botheration; guess I'll cash in wi' as much grit as George +Washington. I don't calc'late as life is wuth worritin' over anyways. +We don't ast to be born, an', comin' into the world wi'out no +by-your-leave, I don't figger as folks has a right to say we've got to +take a hand in any bluff we don't notion." + +"Perhaps you've a certain amount of right on your side." Tresler felt +that this hopeless pessimism was rather the result of drink than +natural to him. "But you said you had two things that you considered +worth living for?" + +"That's so. I ain't goin' back on what I said. It's jest that other +what set me yarnin'. Say, guess you're mostly a pretty decent feller, +Tresler, though I 'lows you has failin's. You're kind o' young. Now I +guess you ain't never pumped lead into the other feller, which the +same he's doin' satisfact'ry by you? You kind o' like most fellers?" + +Tresler nodded. + +"Jest so. But I've noticed you don't fancy folks as gits gay wi' you. +You kind o' make things uneasy. Wal, that's a fault you'll git over. +Mebbe, later on, when a feller gits rilin' you you'll work your gun, +instead of trying to thump savee into his head. Heads is mighty +cur'us out west here. They're so chock full o' savee, ther' ain't no +use in thumpin' more into 'em. Et's a heap easier to let it out. But +that's on the side. I most gener'ly see things, an' kind o' notice +fellers, an' that's how I sized you up. Y' see I've done a heap o' +settin' around M'skeeter Bend fer nigh on ten years, mostly watchin'. +Now, mebbe, y' ain't never sot no plant, an' bedded it gentle wi' +sifted mould, an' watered it careful, an' sot right ther' on a box, +an' watched it grow in a spot wher' ther' wa'n't no bizness fer +anythin' but weeds?" + +Tresler shook his head, wonderingly. + +"No; guess not," Joe went on. "Say," he added, turning and looking +earnestly into his companion's face, "I'm settin' on that box right +now. Yes, sir, I've watched that plant grow. I've picked the stones +out so the young shoots could git through nice an' easy-like. I've +watered it. I've washened the leaves when the blights come along. I've +sticked it against the winds. I've done most everythin' I could, usin' +soap-suds and soot waters, an' all them tasty liquids to coax it on. +I've sot ther' a-smilin' to see the lovesome buds come along an' open +out, an' make the air sweet wi' perfumes an' color an' things. I've +sot right ther' an' tho't an' tho't a heap o' tho'ts around that +flower, an' felt all crinkly up the back wi' pleasure. An' I ain't +never wanted ter leave that box. No, sir, an' the days wus bright, an' +nothin' seemed amiss wi' life nor nothin'. But I tell you it ain't no +good. No, sir, 'tain't no good, 'cos I ain't got the guts to git up +an' dig hard. I've reached out an' pulled a weed or two, but them +weeds had got a holt on that bed 'fore I sot the seedlin', an' they've +growed till my pore flower is nigh to be choked. 'Tain't no use +watchin' when weeds is growin'. It wants a feller as can dig; an' I +guess I ain't that feller. Say, ther's mighty hard diggin' to be done +right now, an' the feller as does it has got to do it standin' right +up to the job. Savee? I'm sayin' right now to you, Tresler, them weeds +is chokin' the life out o' her. She's mazed up wi' 'em. Ther' ain't no +escape. None. Her life's bound to be hell anyways." + +"Her? Whom?" Tresler asked the question, but he knew that Joe was +referring to Diane; Diane's welfare was his other interest in life. + +The little man turned with a start "Eh? Miss Dianny--o' course." + +"And the weeds?" + +"Jake--an' her father." + +And the two men became silent, while their horses ambled leisurely on +toward home. It was Tresler who broke the silence at last. + +"And this is the reason you've stayed so long on the ranch?" he asked. + +"Mebbe. I don't reckon as I could 'a' done much," Joe answered +hopelessly. "What could a drunken choreman do anyways? Leastways the +pore kid hadn't got no mother, an' I guess ther' wa'n't a blazin' soul +around as she could yarn her troubles to. When she got fixed, I guess +ther' wa'n't no one to put her right. And when things was hatchin', +ther' wa'n't no one to give her warnin' but me. 'What is the trouble?' +you ast," the little man went on gloomily. "Trouble? Wal, I'd smile. +Ther' ain't nothin' but trouble around M'skeeter Bend, sure. Trouble +for her--trouble all round. Her trouble's her father, an' Jake. Jake's +set on marryin' her. Jake," in a tone of withering scorn, "who's only +fit to mate wi' a bitch wolf. An' her father--say, he hates her. Hates +her like a neche hates a rattler. An' fer why? Gawd only knows; I +ain't never found out. Say, that gal is his slave, sure. Ef she raises +her voice, she gits it. Not, I guess, as Jake handles me, but wi' the +sneakin' way of a devil. Say, the things he does makes me most ready +to cry like a kid. An' all the time he threatens her wi' Jake fer a +husband. An' she don't never complain. Not she; no sir. You don't know +the blind hulks, Tresler; but ther', it ain't no use in gassin'. He +don't never mean her fer Jake, an' I guess she knows it. But she's +plumb scared, anyways." + +Tresler contemplated the speaker earnestly in the moonlight. He +marveled at the quaint outward form of the chivalrous spirit within. +He was trying to reconcile the antagonistic natures of which this +strange little bundle of humanity was made up. For ten years Joe had +put up with the bullying and physical brutality of Jake Harnach, so +that, in however small a way, he might help to make easy the rough +life-path of a lonely girl. And his motives were all unselfish. A +latent chivalry held him which no depths of drunkenness could drown. +He leant over and held out his hand. + +"Joe," he said, "I want to shake hands with you and call you my +friend." + +The choreman held back for a moment in some confusion. Then, as though +moved by sudden impulse, he gripped the hand so cordially offered. + +"But I ain't done yet," he said a moment later. He had no wish to +advertise his own good deeds. He was pleading for another. Some one +who could not plead for herself. His tone had assumed a roughness +hardly in keeping with the gentle, reflective manner in which he had +talked of his "flower." "Tresler," he went on, "y're good stuff, but +y' ain't good 'nough to dust that gal's boots, no--not by a sight. +Meanin' no offense. But she needs the help o' some one as'll dig at +them weeds standin'. See? Which means you. I can't tell you all I +know, I can't tell you all I've seed. One o' them things--I guess on'y +one--is that Jake's goin' to best blind hulks an' force him into +givin' him his daughter in marriage, and Gawd help that pore gal. But +I swar to Gawd ef I'm pollutin' this airth on the day as sees Jake +worritin' Miss Dianny, I'll perf'rate him till y' can't tell his +dog-gone carkis from a parlor cinder-sifter." + +"Tell me how I can help, and count me in to the limit," said Tresler, +catching, in his eagerness, something of the other's manner of +expression. + +It was evident by the way the choreman's face lit up at his friend's +words that he had hoped for such support, but feared that he should +not get it. Joe Nelson was distinctly worldly wise, but with a heart +of gold deep down beneath his wisdom. He had made no mistake in this +man whose sympathies he had succeeded in enlisting. He fully +understood that he was dealing with just a plain, honest man, +otherwise he would have kept silence. + +"Wal, I guess ther' ain't a deal to tell." The little man looked +straight ahead toward the dark streak which marked the drop from the +prairie land to the bed of the Mosquito River. "Still, it's li'ble to +come along right smart." + +The man's suggestion puzzled Tresler, but he waited. His own mind was +clear as to what he personally intended, but it seemed to him that Joe +was troubled with other thoughts besides the main object of his +discourse. And it was these very side issues that he was keen to +learn. However, whatever Joe thought, whatever confusion or perplexity +he might have been in, he suddenly returned to his main theme with +great warmth of feeling. + +"But when it comes, Tresler, you'll stand by? You'll plug hard fer +her, jest as ef it was you he was tryin' to do up? You'll stop him? +Say, you'll jest round that gal up into your own corrals, an' set your +own brand on her quick, eh? That's what I'm askin'." + +"I see. Marry her, eh?" + +"An' why not?" asked Joe quickly. "She's a heap too good fer you. +Ther' ain't a feller breathin' amounts to a row o' beans aside o' her. +But it's the on'y way to save her from Jake. You'll do it. Yes, sure, +you'll do it. I ken see it in your face." + +The little fellow was leaning over, peering up into Tresler's face +with anxious, almost fierce eyes. His emotion was intense, and at that +moment a refusal would have driven him to despair. + +"You are too swift for me, Joe," Tresler said quietly. But his tone +seemed to satisfy his companion, for the latter sat back in his saddle +with a sigh of relief. "It takes the consent of two people to make a +marriage. However," he went on, with deep earnestness, "I'll promise +you this, Miss Marbolt shall never marry Jake unless it is her own +wish to do so. And, furthermore, she shall never lack a friend, ready +to act on her behalf, while I am in the country." + +"You've said it." + +And the finality of Joe's tone brought silence. + +In spite of the punishment he knew to be awaiting him, Joe was utterly +happy. It was as though a weight, which had been oppressing him for +years, had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. He would +cheerfully have ridden on to any terror ever conceived by the ruthless +Jake. Diane's welfare--Diane's happiness; it was the key-note of his +life. He had watched. He knew. Tresler was willing enough to marry +her, and she--he chuckled joyfully to himself. + +"Jake ain't a dorg's chance--a yaller dorg's chance. When the +'tenderfoot' gits good an' goin' he'll choke the life out o' Master +Jake. Gee!" + +And Tresler, too, was busy with his thoughts. Joe's suggestion had +brought him face to face with hard fact, and, moreover, in a measure, +he had pledged himself. Now he realized, after having listened to the +little man's story, how much he had fallen in love with Diane. Joe, he +knew, loved her as a father might love his child, or a gardener his +flowers; but his was the old, old story that brought him a delight +such as he felt no one else had ever experienced. Yes, he knew now he +loved Diane with all the strength of his powerful nature; and he knew, +too, that there could be little doubt but that he had fallen a victim +to the beautiful dark, sad face he had seen peering up at him from +beneath the straw sun-hat, at the moment of their first meeting. Would +he marry Diane? Ay--a thousand times ay--if she would have him. But +there it was that he had more doubts than Joe. Would she marry him? he +asked himself, and a chill damped the ardor of his thoughts. + +And so, as they rode on, he argued out the old arguments of the lover; +so he wrestled with all the old doubts and fears. So he became +absorbed in an ardent train of thought which shut out all the serious +issues which he felt, that, for his very love's sake, he should have +probed deeply. So he rode on impervious to the keen, studious, +sidelong glances wise old, drunken old Joe favored him with; +impervious to all, save the flame of love this wild old ranchman had +fanned from a smouldering ember to a living fire; impervious to time +and distance, until the man at his side, now thoroughly sobered, +called his attention to their arrival at the ranch. + +"Say, boy," he observed, "that's the barn yonder. 'Fore we git ther' +ther's jest one thing more. Jake's goin' to play his hand by force. +Savee? Mebbe we've a notion o' that force--Miss Dianny an' me----" + +"Yes, and we must think this thing thoroughly out, Joe. Developments +must be our cue. We can do nothing but wait and be ready. There's the +sheriff----" + +"Eh? Sheriff?" Joe swung round, and was peering up into Tresler's +face. + +"Ah, I forgot." Tresler's expression was very thoughtful. They had +arrived at the barn, and were dismounting. "I was following out my own +train of thought. I agree with you, Joe, Red Mask and his doings are +at the bottom of this business." His voice had dropped now to a low +whisper lest any one should chance to be around. + +Without a word Joe led his horse into the barn, and, off-saddling him, +fixed him up for the night. Tresler did the same for his mare. Then +they came out together. At the door Joe paused. + +"Say," he remarked simply, "I jest didn't know you wus that smart." + +"Don't credit me with smartness. It's--poor little girl." + +"Ah!" Joe's face twisted into his apish grin. "Say, you'll stick to +what you said?" + +"Every word of it." + +"Good; the rest's doin' itself, sure." + +And they went their several ways; Joe to the kitchen of the house, and +Tresler to his dusty mattress in the bunkhouse. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +TRESLER INVOLVES HIMSELF FURTHER; +THE LADY JEZEBEL IN A FREAKISH MOOD + + +Enthusiasm is the mainspring of a cowboy's life. Without enthusiasm a +cowboy inevitably falls to the inglorious level of a "hired man"; a +nice distinction in the social conditions of frontier life. The cowboy +is sometimes a good man--not meaning a man of religion--and often a +bad man. He is rarely indifferent. There are no half measures with +him. His pride is in his craft. He will lavish the tenderness of a +mother for her child upon his horse; he will play poker till he has +had the doubtful satisfaction of seeing his last cent pass into +somebody else's pocket; he will drink on the most generous scale, and +is ever ready to quarrel. Even in this last he believes in +thoroughness. But he has many good points which often outweigh his +baser instincts. They can be left to the imagination; for it is best +to know the worst of him at the outset to get a proper, and not a +glorified estimate of his true character. The object of this story is +to give a veracious, and not a highly gilded picture of the hardy +prairie man of days gone by. + +Before all things the cowboy is a horseman. His pride in this almost +amounts to a craze. His fastidiousness in horse-flesh, in his +accoutrements, his boots, his chapps, his jaunty silk handkerchief +about his neck, even to the gauntlets he so often wears upon his +hands, is an education in dandyism. He is a thorough dandy in his +outfit. And the greater the dandy, the more surely is he a capable +horseman. He is not a horse-breaker by trade, but he loves +"broncho-busting" as a boy loves his recreation. It comes to him as a +relief from the tedium of branding, feeding, rounding up, cutting out, +mending fences, and all the utility work of the ranch. Every unbroken +colt is like a ticket in a lottery; it may be easy, or it may be a +tartar. And the tartar is the prize that every cowpuncher wants to +draw so that he may demonstrate his horsemanship. + +Broncho-busting was the order of the next day at Mosquito Bend, and +all hands were agog, and an element of general cheeriness pervaded the +bunkhouse whilst breakfast was in preparation. Marbolt had obtained a +contract to supply the troops with a large band of remounts, and the +terms demanded that each animal must be saddle-broken. + +Tresler, with the rest, was up betimes. He, too, was going to take his +part in the horse-breaking. While breakfast was in the course of +preparation he went out to overhaul his saddle. There must be no +doubtful straps in his gear. Each saddle would have a heavy part to +play, and his own, being one he had bought second-hand from one of his +comrades, needed looking to. + +He was very thoughtful as he went about his work. His overnight talk +with Joe Nelson had made him realize that he was no longer a +looker-on, a pupil, simply one of the hands on the ranch. Hitherto he +had felt, in a measure, free in his actions. He could do as it pleased +him to do. He could have severed himself from the ranch, and washed +his hands of all that was doing there. Now it was different. Whether +he would or no he must play out his part. He had taken a certain +stand, and that stand involved him with responsibilities which he had +no wish to shirk. + +His saddle was in order, his mare had been rubbed down and fed, and he +was leisurely strolling over to the bunkhouse for breakfast. And as he +passed the foreman's hut he heard Jake's voice from within hailing him +with unwonted cheeriness. + +"Mornin', Tresler," he called out. "Late gettin' in last night." + +Tresler moved over and stood in the doorway. He was wary of the tone, +and answered coolly-- + +"Yes; the mare bolted this side of the ford, and took me ten miles +south. When I got on the Forks trail I met Nelson on his way home." + +"Ah, that mare's the very devil. How are you doin' with her now?" + +"Oh, so, so. She leads me a dance, but I'd rather have her than any +plug you've got on the ranch. She's the finest thing I've ever put a +leg over." + +"Yes, guess that's so. The boss was always struck on her. I kind of +remember when she came. She wasn't bred hereabouts. The old man bought +her from some half-breed outfit goin' through the country three years +ago--that's how he told me. Then we tried to break her. Say, you've +done well with her, boy." + +Jake had been lacing up a pair of high field boots; they were massive +things with heavy, clumped soles, iron tips and heels. Now he +straightened up. + +"Did Nelson say why he was late?" he went on abruptly. + +"No. And I didn't ask him." + +"Ah, knew it, I s'pose. Drunk?" + +"No." + +Tresler felt that the lie was a justifiable one. + +"Then what the devil kept the little swine?" + +Jake's brows suddenly lowered, and the savage tone was no less than +the coarse brutality of his words. The other's coolness grew more +marked. + +"That was none of my concern. He'd delivered the letter, and it was +only left for me to hurry him home." + +"I'll swear he was loafin' around the saloon all day. Say, I guess +I'll see him later." + +Tresler shrugged and turned away. He wanted to tell this man what he +thought of him. He felt positively murderous toward him. He had never +met anybody who could so rouse him. Sooner or later a crisis would +come, in spite of his reassurances to Diane, and then--Jake watched +him go. Then he turned again to the contemplation of his great boots, +and muttered to himself. + +"It won't be for long--no, not for long. But not yet. Ther's too much +hangin' to it----" He broke off, and his fierce eyes looked after the +retreating man. + +The unconscious object of these attentions meanwhile reached the +bunkhouse. Breakfast was well on, and he had to take his pannikin and +plate round to Teddy's cookhouse to get his food. "Slushy," as the +cook was familiarly called, dipped him out a liberal measure of pork +and beans, and handed him half a loaf of new-made bread. Jinks was no +niggard, and Tresler was always welcome to all he needed. + +"Goin' to ride?" the youth demanded, as he filled the pannikin with +tea. + +"Why, of course." Tresler had almost forgotten the change of work that +had been set out for the day. His face brightened now as the cook +reminded him of it. "Wouldn't miss it for a lot. That mare of mine has +given me a taste for that sort of thing." + +"Taste!" Teddy exclaimed, with a scornful wave of his dipper. "Belly +full, I tho't, mebbe." He turned to his stove and shook the ashes +down. "Say," he went on, over his shoulder, "guess I'm bakin' hash in +mine. Ther' ain't so much glory, but ther's a heap more comfort to +it." + +Tresler passed out smiling at the youth's ample philosophy. But the +smile died out almost on the instant. A half-smothered cry reached him +from somewhere in the direction of the barn. He stood for an instant +with his brows knitted. + +The next, and his movements became almost electrical. + +Now the man's deliberate character flatly contradicted itself. There +was no pause for consideration, no thought for what was best to do. He +had heard that cry, and had recognized the voice. It was a cry that +summoned him, and wrung the depths of his heart. His breakfast was +pitched to the ground. And, as though fate had ordained it, he beheld +a heavy rawhide quirt lying on the ground where he had halted. He +grabbed the cruel weapon up, and set off at a run in the direction +whence the cry had come. + +His feet were still encased in the soft moccasin slippers he usually +wore in exchange for his riding boots, and, as he ran, they gave out +no sound. It was a matter of fifty yards to the foreman's hut, and he +sprinted this in even time, keeping the building between himself and a +direct view of the barn, in the region of which lay his destination. +And as he ran the set expression of his face boded ill for some one. +Jaws and mouth were clenched to a fierce rigidity that said far more +than any words could have done. + +He paused for one breathless instant at the hither side of the +foreman's hut. It was because he heard Jake's voice cursing on the +other side of it. Then he heard that which made his blood leap to his +brain. It was a stifled cry in Nelson's now almost unrecognizable +voice. And its piteous appeal aroused in him a blind fury. + +He charged round the building in half a dozen strides. One glance at +the scene was sufficient. Poor old Joe Nelson was lying on the ground, +his arms thrown out to protect his head, while Jake, his face ablaze, +stood over him, kicking him with his cruel field boots, with a force +and brutishness that promised to break every bone in the old man's +body. + +It all came to him in a flash. + +Then he leapt with a rush at the author of the unnatural scene. The +butt of his quirt was uplifted. It swung above his head a full +half-circle, then it descended with that whistling split of the air +that told of the rage and force that impelled it. It took the giant +square across the face, laying the flesh open and sending the blood +spurting with its vicious impact. It sent him reeling backward with a +howl of pain, like a child at the slash of an admonishing cane. And +Jake's hands went up to his wounds at once; but, even so, his +movements were not swift enough to protect him from a second slash of +the vengeful thong. And Tresler's aim was so swift and sure that the +bully fell to the ground like a pole-axed steer. + +And with Jake's fall the tension of Tresler's rage relaxed. He could +have carried the chastisement further with a certain wild delight, but +he was no savage, only a real, human man, outraged and infuriated by +the savagery of another. His one thought was for his poor old friend, +and he dropped on his knees, and bent over the still, shrunken form in +a painful anxiety. He called to him, and put one hand under the gray +old head and raised it up. And as he did so the poor fellow's eyes +opened. Joe murmured something unintelligible, and Tresler was about +to speak again, when a movement behind him changed his purpose and +brought him to his feet with a leap. + +Nor was he any too soon. And his rage lit anew as he saw Jake +struggling to rise. In an instant he was standing over him +threateningly. + +"Move, and I'll paralyze you!" he cried hoarsely. + +And Jake made no further effort. He lay back with a growl of impotent +rage, while his hands moved uneasily, mopping his blood-stained +features. + +Now it was, for the first time, Tresler became aware that the men from +the bunkhouse had come upon the scene. + +The sight of all those faces gazing in wide-eyed astonishment at the +fallen Jake brought home to him something of the enormity of his +offense, and it behooved him to get Joe out of further harm's way. He +stooped, and gathering the little choreman tenderly into his powerful +arms, lifted him on to his shoulders and strode away to the bunkhouse, +followed by his silent, wondering comrades. + +He deposited Joe upon his own bed, and the men crowded round. And +questions and answers came in a wild volley about him. + +It was Arizona who spoke least and rendered most assistance. Together +he and Tresler undressed the patient and treated him to a rough +surgical examination. They soon found that no limbs were broken, but +of his ribs they were less certain. He was severely bruised about the +head, and this latter no doubt accounted for his unconsciousness. Cold +water, harshly applied, though with kind intent, was the necessary +restorative, and after a while the twisted face took on a hue of life +and the eyes opened. Then Tresler turned to the men about him. + +"Boys," he said gravely, "I want you all to remember that this is +purely my affair. Joe's and mine--and Jake's. I shall settle it in my +own way. For the present we have our work to do." + +There was a low murmur, and Arizona raised a pair of fierce eyes to +his face. He was going to speak--to voice a common thought; but +Tresler understood and cut him short. + +"Go easy, Arizona. We're good friends all. You wouldn't like me to +interfere in a quarrel of yours." + +"That's so--but----" + +"Never mind the 'buts.'" And Tresler's keen, honest eyes looked +squarely into the seared face of the wild cowpuncher. + +For a moment the men stood around looking on with lowering faces, +eyeing the prostrate man furtively. But Tresler's attitude gave them +no encouragement, and even Arizona felt the influence of his strong +personality. Suddenly, as though with a struggle, the cowboy swung +round on his fellows and his high-pitched tones filled the silent +room. + +"Come right on, boys. Guess he's right. We'll git." And he moved +toward the door. + +And the men, after the slightest possible hesitation, passed out in +his wake. Tresler waited until the door had closed behind the last of +them, then he turned to the injured man. + +"Feeling better, Joe?" + +"Feelin' better? Why, yes, I guess." + +Joe's answer came readily, but in a weak voice. + +"No bones broken?" + +"Bones? Don't seem." + +Tresler seated himself on the bunk and looked into the gray face. At +last he rose and prepared to go, but Joe detained him with a look. + +"Say--they're gone?" he murmured. + +The other sat down again. "Yes." + +"Good." Joe sighed and reclosed his eyes; but it was only for a +second. He opened them again and went on. "Say, you won't tell +her--Miss Dianny. Don't you tell her. Pore little soul, she'll wep +them pretty eyes o' hers out, sure. Y' see, I know her. Y' see, I did +git drunk yesterday. I knew I'd git it. So it don't signify. Don't +tell her." + +"She'll be sure to hear of it." + +"Say, Tresler," Joe went on, ignoring the other's objection. "Go easy; +jest say nothin'. Kind o' fergit this thing fer the time. Ther's other +work fer you. I'd a heap sooner I'd bin killed than you git roped into +this racket. It's Miss Dianny you're to look to, not me; an' now, +mebbe, they'll run you off'n the ranch." + +Tresler shook his head decidedly. "Don't be afraid; they can't get rid +of me, Joe," he said. + +"Ah! Wal, I guess meanwhile you'd best git off to work. I'll pull +round after a while. You see, you must go dead easy wi' Jake, 'cos o' +her. Mind it's her--on'y her. You sed it last night. Mebbe this +thing's goin' to make trouble. Trouble fer you; an' trouble fer you +means trouble fer her." + +"I'm going." + +Tresler saw the force of the other's argument. He must give them no +further hold to turn on him. Yes, he saw how bad his position would be +in the future. He wondered what would come of that morning's work; +and, in spite of his confident assurance to Joe, he dreaded now lest +there should be any means for them to get rid of him. He moved toward +the door. + +"All right, Joe. I'll keep a check on myself in the future," he said. +"But don't you go and get drunk again or----" + +He broke off. Flinging the door open to pass out, he found himself +face to face with the object of their solicitude. Diane had been about +to knock, and now started back in confusion. She had not expected +this. She thought Tresler was with the "breaking" party. The man saw +her distress, and the anxiety in her sweet brown eyes. He knew that at +that moment all her thought was for Joe. It was the basket on her arm, +full of comforts, that told him. And he knew, too, that she must have +been a witness to the disgraceful scene by the barn, for how else +could she have learned so quickly what had happened? He put his finger +on his lip to silence her, while he closed the bunkhouse door behind +him. Then he responded to the inquiry he saw in her eager, troubled +face. + +"He is better, Miss Diane. He will soon be all right," he added, +keeping his voice low lest it should reach the man inside. "Can I give +him anything for you? Any message?" He glanced significantly from her +face to the basket on her arm. + +The girl did not answer at once. Her eyes looked seriously up into his +face. + +"Thank you," she said at last, a little vaguely. Then she broke out +eagerly, and Tresler understood the feeling that prompted her. "I saw +the finish of it all," she went on; "oh, the dreadful finish. Thank +God I did not see the rest. When you bore him off on your shoulders I +thought he was dead. Then I felt I could not stay away. While I was +wondering how to get down here without attracting attention, Sheriff +Fyles arrived, and father and he went at once into the office. I knew +Jake would be out of the way. I waited until Anton had disappeared +with the sheriff's horse, then I hurried down here. Can I see him now? +I have a few little luxuries here which I scrambled together for him." + +The girl's appeal was irresistible. Nor was Tresler the man to attempt +the impossible. Besides, she knew all, so there was nothing to hide +from her. He glanced over at the barn. The men had already saddled. He +saw Arizona leading two horses, and recognized Lady Jezebel as one of +them. The wild cowpuncher had saddled his mare for him, and the +friendliness of the act pleased him. + +"Yes, go in and see him," he said. "The place hasn't been cleaned up +yet, but perhaps you won't mind that. You will come like an angel of +comfort to poor Joe. Poor old fellow! He thinks only of you. You are +his one care in life. It will be like a ray of sunshine in his clouded +life to be waited on by you. I need hardly give you the caution, +but--don't stay long." + +Diane nodded, and Tresler stepped aside. The girl's hand was on the +door-latch; she hesitated a moment and finally faced about. + +"Fyles is here now," she said significantly. "The raiders; do you +think you ought----" + +"I am going to see him." + +"Yes." The girl nodded. She would have said more, but her companion +cut her short. + +"I must go," he said. Then he pointed over at the mare. "You see?" he +added. "She is in view of Jake's window." + +The next moment they had parted. + +The Lady Jezebel was very fretful when Tresler mounted her. She +treated him to a mild display of bad temper, and then danced +boisterously off down the trail, and her progress was as much made on +her hind legs as on all fours. Once round the bend her rider tried to +bring her to a halt, but no persuasion could reduce her to the +necessary docility. She fretted on until, exasperated, the man jabbed +her sharply with the spurs. Then the mischief started. Her head went +down and her back humped, and she settled to a battle royal. + +It was in the midst of this that another horseman rounded the bend and +rode leisurely on to the field of battle. He drew up and watched the +conflict with interest, his own great raw-boned bay taking quite as +enthusiastic an interest in what was going forward as its rider. + +The mare fought like a demon; but Tresler had learned too much for +her, and sat on his saddle as though glued to it; and the newcomer's +interest became blended with admiration for the exhibition of +horsemanship he was witnessing. As suddenly as she had begun the lady +desisted. It was in a pause for breath that she raised her infuriated +head and espied the intruder. Doubtless, realizing the futility of her +efforts, and at the same time not wishing one of the opposite sex to +witness her defeat, she preferred to disguise her anger and gave the +impression of a quiet, frivolous gambol, for she whinnied softly and +stared, with ears pricked and head erect, in a haughty look of inquiry +at the more cumbersome figure of the bay. + +And her rider, too, had time to look around. His glance at once fell +upon the stranger, and he knew that it was the man he wanted to talk +to. + +The two men met with little formality. + +"Sheriff Fyles?" Tresler said as he came up. + +There was something wonderfully picturesque yet businesslike about +this prairie sleuth. This man was the first of his kind he had seen, +and he studied him with interest. The thought of Sheriff Fyles had +come so suddenly into his mind, and so recently, that he had no time +to form any imaginative picture of him. Had he done so he must +inevitably have been disappointed with the reality, for Fyles was +neither becoming nor even imposing. He was rather short and decidedly +burly, and his face had an innocent caste about it, a farmer-like +mould of russet-tanned features that was extremely healthy-looking, +but in no way remarkable for any appearance of great intelligence. + +But this was a case of the fallibility of appearances. Fyles was +remarkable both for great intelligence and extreme shrewdness. Not +only that, he was a man of cat-like activity. His bulk was the result +of a superabundance of muscle, and not of superfluous tissue. His +bucolic spread of features was useful to him in that it detracted from +the cold, keen, compelling eyes which looked out from beneath his +shaggy eyebrows; and, too, the full cheeks and fat neck, helping to +hide the determined jaws, which had a knack of closing his rather +full lips into a thin, straight line. Nature never intended a man of +his mould to occupy the position that Fyles held in his country's +peace regime. He was one of her happy mistakes. + +And in that first survey Tresler realized something of the personality +which form and features were so ludicrously struggling to conceal. + +"Yes." The officer let his eyes move slowly over this stranger. Then, +without the least expression of cordiality he spoke the thought in his +mind. "That's a good nag--remarkably good. You handle her tolerably. +Didn't get your name?" + +"Tresler--John Tresler." + +"Yes. New hereabouts?" + +The broad-shouldered man had an aggravatingly official manner. Tresler +replied with a nod. + +"Ah! Remittance man?" + +At this the other laughed outright. He saw it was useless to display +any anger. + +"Wrong," he said. "Learning the business of ranching. Going to start +on my own account later on." + +"Ah! Younger son?" + +"Not even a younger son!" The two horses were now moving leisurely on +toward the ford. "Suppose we quit questions and answers that serve no +particular purpose, sheriff. I have been waiting to see you." + +"So I figured," observed the other, imperturbably, "or you wouldn't +have answered my questions so amiably. Well?" + +The sheriff permitted himself a sort of wintry smile, while his +watchful eyes wandered interestedly over the surrounding bush. + +"There are things doing about this country," Tresler began a little +lamely. "You've possibly heard?" + +"Things are generally doing in a cattle country where brands are +easily changed and there is no official to inquire who has changed +them." + +Fyles glanced admiringly down at Lady Jezebel's beautiful clean legs. + +"This Red Mask?" Tresler asked. + +"Exactly." + +"You've heard the story of his latest escapade? The murder of Manson +Orr?" + +"From Mr. Marbolt--and others. In telling me, the blind man offered +five thousand dollars' reward for the capture of the man." + +"That's better than I hoped for," replied Tresler, musingly. "You +see," he went on, "the blind man's something cantankerous. He's lost +cattle himself, but when some of the boys offered to hunt Red Mask +down, he treated them with scant courtesy--in fact, threatened to +discharge any man who left the ranch on that quest." + +"I found him amiable." + +"You would." Tresler paused. This man was difficult to talk to, and he +wanted to say so much. Suddenly he turned and faced him, and, to his +chagrin, discovered that the other was still intent on the mare he was +riding. His eyes were fixed on the lady's shoulder, where the +indistinct marks of the brand were still visible. "You see, sergeant," +he went on, ignoring the other's abstraction, "I have a story to tell +you, which, in your official capacity, you may find interesting. In +the light of recent events, I, at any rate, find it interesting. It +has set me thinking a heap." + +"Go ahead," said the officer, without even so much as raising his +eyes. Tresler followed the direction of his gaze, but could see +nothing more interesting in his mare's fore-quarters than their +perfect shape. However, there was no alternative but to proceed with +his narrative. And he told the sheriff of the visit of the +night-riders which he had witnessed on the night of his arrival at the +ranch. In spite of the other's apparent abstraction, he told the story +carefully and faithfully, and his closing remarks were well pointed +and displayed a close analysis. He told him of the previous visits of +these night-riders, and the results following upon the circulation of +the story by each individual who chanced to witness them. He told of +Joe Nelson's warning to him, and how his earnestness had, at length, +persuaded him to keep quiet. He felt no scruples in thus changing the +responsibility of Diane's warning. Nothing would have induced him to +drag her name into the matter. + +"You see, sheriff," he said in conclusion, "I think I did right to +keep this matter to myself until such time as I could tell it to you. +It has all happened several times before, and, therefore, will no +doubt happen again. What do you think?" + +"She's the finest thing I've ever set two eyes on. There's only one +like her--eh?" Tresler had given audible expression to his impatience, +and the other abruptly withdrew his gaze from the mare. "It's +interesting--decidedly." + +"Did Marbolt tell you of the previous visits of these raiders? He +knows of them." + +"He told me more than I had time to listen to." + +"How?" + +"He told me of the revolutionary spirit pervading the ranch." + +"Ah!" + +Tresler saw the trap the wily police officer had laid for him and +refused the bait. Evidently the blind man had told his version of that +morning's doings, and the sheriff wished to learn the men's side of +it. Probably his, Tresler's. This calm, cold man seemed to depend in +no way upon verbal answers for the information he desired, for he went +on without any appearance of expecting a reply. + +"There's one thing you've made plain to me. You suspect collusion +between these raiders and some one on the ranch." + +"Yes. I meant you to understand that." + +"Whom do you suspect? And your reasons?" + +The two questions rapped out one after the other like lightning. + +"My suspicions rest nowhere, because I can find no reason." + +They had drawn rein at the ford. Fyles now looked keenly into +Tresler's face, and his glance was full of meaning. + +"I'm glad I've had this talk with you, Tresler. You have a keen +faculty for observation, and a wise caution. When you have reason to +suspect any one, and wish to tell me of it, you can communicate with +me at any hour of the day or night. I know this ranch well by repute. +So well, in fact, that I came out here to find you. You see, you also +were known to me--through mutual acquaintances in Forks. Now your +excellent caution will tell you that it would be bad policy for you to +communicate openly with me. Good. Your equally excellent observation +will have called your attention to this river. I have a posse +stationed further down stream, for certain reasons which I will keep +to myself. It is a hidden posse, but it will always be there. Now, to +a man of your natural cleverness, I do not think you will have any +difficulty in finding a means of floating a message down to me. But do +not send an urgent message unless the urgency is positive. Any message +I receive in that way I shall act upon at once. I have learned a great +deal to-day, Tresler, so much indeed that I even think you may +need to use this river before long. All I ask of you is to be +circumspect--that's the word, circumspect." + +The sheriff edged his horse away so that he could obtain a good view +of Lady Jezebel. And he gazed at her with so much intentness that +Tresler felt he must call attention to it. + +"She is a beauty," he suggested. + +And Fyles answered with a sharp question. "Is she yours?" + +"No. Only to use." + +"Belongs to the ranch?" + +"Jake told me she is a mare the blind man bought from a half-breed +outfit passing through the country. He sets great store by her, but +they couldn't tame her into reliability. That's three years ago. By +her mouth I should say she was rising seven." + +"That's so. She'd be rising seven. She's a dandy." + +"You seem to know her." + +But Fyles made no answer. He swung his horse round, and, raising his +hand in a half-military salute in token of "good-bye," called over his +shoulder as his bay took to the water-- + +"Don't forget the river." + +Tresler looked after him for some moments, then his mare suddenly +reared and plunged into the water to follow. He understood at once +that fresh trouble was brewing in her ill-balanced equine mind, and +took her sharply to task. She couldn't buck in the water; and, +finally, after another prolonged battle, she dashed out of it and on +to the bank again. But in the scrimmage she had managed to get the +side-bar of the bit between her teeth, and, as she landed, she +stretched out her lean neck, and with a snort of ill-temper, set off +headlong down the trail. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +A WILD RIDE + + +The intractability of the Lady Jezebel was beyond all bounds. Her +vagaries were legion. After his experiences with her, Tresler might +have been forgiven the vanity of believing, in spite of her sex, that +he had fathomed her every mood. But she was forever springing +unpleasant surprises, and her present one was of a more alarming +nature than anything that had gone before. One of her tricks, bolting, +was not so very serious, but now she proved herself a "blind bolter." +And among horsemen there is only one thing to do with a blind +bolter--shoot it. A horse of this description seems to be imbued with +but one idea--a furious desire to go, to run anywhere, to run into +anything lying in its course, to run on until its strength is spent, +or its career is suddenly terminated by a forcible full stop. + +At the bend of the trail the mare took blindly to the bush. Chance +guided her on to a cattle-path which cut through to the pinewoods +beyond. It was but a matter of moments before her rider saw the dark +shadow of the woodlands come at him with a rush, and he plunged +headlong into the gray twilight of their virgin depths. He had just +time to crouch down in the saddle, with his face buried in the tangle +of the creature's flying mane, when the drooping boughs, laden with +their sad foliage, swept his back. He knew there were only two +courses open to him. Either he must sit tight and chance his luck till +the mad frolic was spent, or throw himself headlong from the saddle at +the first likely spot. A more experienced horseman would, no doubt, +have chosen the latter course without a second thought. But he +preferred to stay with the mare. He was loth to admit defeat. She had +never bested him yet, and a sort of petty vanity refused to allow him +to acknowledge her triumph now. They might come to an opening, he told +himself, a stretch of open country. The mare might tire of the forest +gloom and turn prairieward. These things suggested themselves merely +as an excuse for his foolhardiness in remaining in the saddle, not +that he had any hope of their fulfilment. + +And so it was. Nothing moved the animal out of her course, and it +seemed almost as though a miracle were in operation. For, in all that +labyrinth of tree-trunks, a sheer road constantly opened out before +them. Once, and once only, disaster was within an ace of him. She +brushed a mighty black-barked giant with her shoulders. Tresler's knee +struck it with such painful force that his foot was wrenched from the +stirrup and dragged back so that the rowel of his spur was plunged, +with terrific force, into the creature's flank. She responded to the +blow with a sideways leap, and it was only by sheer physical strength +her rider retained his seat. Time and again the reaching boughs swept +him and tore at his clothes, frequently lacerating the flesh beneath +with the force of their impact. + +These things, however, were only minor troubles as he raced down the +grim forest aisles. His thoughts centred themselves on the main +chance--the chance that embraced life and death. An ill-fate might, at +any moment, plunge horse and rider headlong into one of those silent +sentries. It would mean anything. Broken limbs at the best. But +Providence ever watches over the reckless horseman, and, in spite of a +certain native caution in most things, Tresler certainly was that. He +knew no fear of this jade of a mare, and deep down in his heart there +was a wild feeling of joy, a whole-hearted delight in the very madness +of the race. + +And the animal herself, untamed, unchecked, frothing at her bit, her +sides a-lather with foam, her barrel tuckered like that of a finely +trained race-horse, rushed blindly on. The forest echoed and reëchoed +with the dull thud of her hoofs as they pounded the thick underlay of +rotting cones. And her rider breathed hard as he lay with his head +beside the reeking neck, and watched for the coming of the end. + +Suddenly, in the midst of the gray, he saw a flash of sunlight. It was +like a beacon light to a storm-driven mariner. It was only a gleam of +sunshine and was gone almost at once, but it told him that he was fast +coming on the river. The final shoals, maybe, where wreck alone +awaited him. Just for an instant his purpose wavered. There was still +time to drop to the ground. He would have to chance the mare's flying +heels. And it might save him. + +But the idea was driven from his head almost before he realized it; +the mare swerved like a skidding vehicle. He clung desperately to her +mane, one arm was even round her neck in a forcible embrace. The +struggle lasted only a few seconds. Then, as he recovered his +equilibrium, he saw that she had turned into what was undoubtedly a +well-defined, but long-disused, forest trail. The way was clear of +obstruction. The trees had parted, opening up a wide avenue, and above +him shone the perfect azure of the summer sky. + +He was amazed. Where could such a trail lead? His answer came +immediately. Away ahead of him, towering above the abundant foliage, +he saw the distant shimmer of snowy peaks, and nearer--so near as to +make him marvel aloud--the forest-clad, broken lands of the +foot-hills. Immediate danger was past and he had time to think. At all +cost he must endeavor to stop the racing beast under him. So he began +a vicious sawing at her mouth. His efforts only drove her faster, and +caused her to throw her head higher and higher, until her crown was +within six inches of his face. + +The futility of his purpose was almost ludicrous. He desisted. And the +Lady Jezebel lowered her head with an angry snort and rushed on harder +than ever. And now the race continued without relaxing. Once or twice +Tresler thought he detected other hoof-marks on the trail, but his +impression of them was very uncertain. One thing surely struck him, +however: since entering this relic of the old Indian days, a decided +change had come over the mare. She was no longer running blind; more, +it seemed to him that she displayed that inexpressible familiarity +with her surroundings which a true horseman can always detect, yet +never describe. This knowledge led him to the hope of the passing of +her temper. + +But his hope was an optimistic mistake. The sweat pouring from neck, +shoulders, and flanks, she still lifted her mud-brown barrel to her +mighty stride, with all the vim and lightness of the start. He felt +that, jade that she was, she ran because she loved it; ran with a +delight that acted as a safety-valve for her villainous temper. She +would run herself into amiability and then stop, but not before. And +he knew her temper so well that he saw many miles lying ahead of him. + +The rift was gradually widening, and the forest on either side +thinned. The trees were wider and more scattered, and the broken +hilltops, which but now had been well ahead, were frowning right over +him, and he knew, by the steady, gradual rise of the country, that he +would soon be well within the maze of forest, crag, and ravine, which +composed the mountain foot-hills. + +At last the forest broke and the ragged land leapt into full view with +magical abruptness. It was as though Nature had grown her forest +within the confines of a field embraced by an imaginary hedge. There +were no outskirts, no dwindling away. It ended in one clean-cut line. +And beyond lay the rampart hills, fringed and patched with disheveled +bluff, split by rifts and yawning chasms. And ever they rose higher +and higher as the distance gained, and, though summer was not yet at +its height, it was gaunt-looking, torn, chaotic, a land of desolation. + +The mare held straight on. The change of scene had no effect on her; +the trail still lay before her, and she seemed satisfied with it. +Tresler looked for the river. He knew it was somewhere near by. He +gazed away to the right, and his conjecture was proved at once. There +it lay, the Mosquito River, narrowed and foaming, a torrent with high, +clean-cut banks. He followed its course ahead and saw that the banks +lost themselves in the shadow between towering, almost barren hills, +which promised the narrow mouth of a valley beyond. + +And as he watched these things, a feeling of uneasiness came over him. +The split between the hills looked so narrow. He looked for the trail. +It seemed to make straight for the opening. As the ground flew under +him, he turned once more to the river and followed its course with his +eyes, and suddenly he was thrilled with his first real feeling of +apprehension. The river on the right, and the hill on the left of him +were converging. Nor could he avoid that meeting-point. + +He was borne on by the bolting mare. There was not the smallest hope +of restraining her. Whatever lay before him, he must face it, and face +it with every faculty alert and ready. His mouth parched, and he +licked his lips. He was facing a danger now that was uncertain, and +the uncertainty of it strung him with a nervous apprehension. + +Bluff succeeded bluff in rapid succession. The hill on the left had +become a sheer cliff, and the general aspect of the country, that of a +tremendous gorge. The trail rose slightly and wound its tortuous way +in such an aggravating manner that it was impossible for him to see +what lay before him. + +At one point he came to a fork where another trail, less defined, +branched away to the right. For a moment he dreaded lest the mare +should adopt the new way. He knew what lay out there--the river. +However, his fears were quickly allayed. The Lady Jezebel had no +intention of leaving the road she was on. + +They passed the fork, and he sighed his relief. But his relief was +short-lived. Without a sign or warning the trail he was on died out, +and his course lay over a narrow level flat sparsely dotted with +small, stubbly bush. Now he knew that the mare had been true to +herself. She had passed the real trail by, and was running headlong +to---- + +He dared think no more. He knew the crisis was at hand. He had reached +the narrowest point of the opening between the two hills, and there +stretched the river right across his path less than fifty yards ahead. +It took no central course--as might have been expected--through the +gorge. It met the left-hand cliff diagonally, and, further on, adopted +its sheer side for its left bank. He saw the clearly defined cutting, +sharp, precise, before it reached the cliff, and he was riding +straight for it! + +In that first moment of realization he passed through every sensation +of fear; but no time was given him for thought. Fifty yards! What was +that to the raking stride of his untamed mare? It would be gone in a +few seconds. Action was the only thing to serve him, and such action +as instinct prompted him to was utterly unavailing. With a mighty +heave of his body, and with all the strength of his sinewy arms, he +tried to pull the creature on to her haunches. As well try to stem +the tide ahead of him. She threw up her head until it nearly struck +him in the face; she pawed the air with her great front legs; then, as +he released her, she rushed forward again with a vicious snort. + +His case seemed utterly hopeless. He sat down tight in the saddle, +leaning slightly forward. He held his reins low, keeping a steady +strain upon them. There was a vague, wild thought in his mind. He knew +the river had narrowed. Was it a possible jump? He feared the very +worst, but clung desperately to the hope. He would lift the creature +to it when it came, anyhow. Would she see it? Would she, freakish +brute that she was, realize her own danger, and, for once in her +desperate life, do one sensible act? He did not expect it. He dared +not hope for that. He only wondered. + +He could see the full extent of the chasm now. And he thrilled as he +realized that it was broader than he had supposed. Worse, the far bank +was lower, and a fringe of bush hung at its very edge. His jaws +tightened as he came up. He could hear the roar of the torrent below, +and, to his strained fancy, it seemed to come up from the very bowels +of the earth. + +A few more strides. He timed his effort with a judgment inspired by +the knowledge that his life depended on it--it, and the mare. + +The chasm now came at him with a rush. Suddenly he leaned over and let +out a wild "halloo!" in the creature's ears. At the same time he +lifted her and plunged his spurs hard into her flanks. The effect was +instantaneous, electrical. Just for an instant it seemed to him that +some unseen power had suddenly shot her from under him. He had a +sensation of being left behind, while yet he was rushing through the +air with the saddle flying from under him. Then all seemed still, and +he was gliding, the lower part of his body struggling to outstrip the +rest of him. He had an impression of some great depth below him, +though he knew he saw nothing, heard nothing. There came a great jolt. +He lurched on to the animal's neck, recovered himself, and, the next +instant, the old desperate gallop was going on as before. + +He looked back and shivered as he saw the gaping rift behind him. The +jump had been terrific, and, as he realized the marvel of the feat, he +leaned over and patted the mare's reeking shoulder. She had performed +an act after her own wild heart. + +And Tresler laughed aloud at the thought. He could afford to laugh +now, for he saw the end of his journey coming. He had landed on the +trail he had lost, in all probability the continuation across the +river of the branch road he had missed on the other side, and this was +heading directly for the hill before him. More, he could see it +winding its way up the hill. Even the Lady Jezebel, he thought, would +find that ascent more than to her liking. + +And he was right. She faced it and breasted it like the lion-hearted +animal she was, but the loose sandy surface, and the abruptness of the +incline, first brought her to a series of plunges, and finally to her +knees and a dead halt. + +And Tresler was out of the saddle in an instant, and drew the reins +over her head, while she, now quite subdued, struggled to her feet. +She was utterly blown, and her master was little better. They stood +together on that hillside and rested. + +Now the man had a full view of the river below, and he realized the +jump that the mare had made. And, further down, he beheld an +astonishing sight. At a point where the course of the river narrowed, +a rough bridge of pine-logs had been thrown across it. He stood for +some minutes contemplating the scene and busy with his thoughts, which +at last culminated in a question uttered aloud-- + +"Where on earth does it lead to?" + +And he turned and surveyed the point, where, higher up, the trail +vanished round the hillside above him. The question voiced a natural +curiosity which he promptly proceeded to satisfy. Linking his arm +through the reins, he led the mare up the hill. + +It was a laborious climb. Even free of her burden the horse had +difficulty in keeping her feet. The sandy surface was deep, and poured +away at every step like the dry sand on the seashore. And as they +labored up, Tresler's wonder increased at every step. Why had such a +trail been made, and where--where could it lead to? + +At length the vanishing-point was reached, and horse and rider rounded +the bend. And immediately the reason was made plain. But even the +reason sank into insignificance before the splendor of the scene which +presented itself. + +He was standing on a sort of shelf cut out of the hillside. It was +not more than fifty yards long, and some twenty wide, but it stood +high over a wide, far-reaching valley, scooped out amongst the great +foot-hills which reared their crests about him on every side. Far as +the eye could see was spread out the bright, early summer green of the +grass-land hollow. For the most part the surrounding hills were +precipitate, and rose sheer from the bed of the valley, but here and +there a friendly landslide had made the place accessible. Just where +he stood, and all along the shelf, the face of the hill formed a +precipice, both above and below, and the only approach to it was the +way he had come round from the other side of the hill. + +And the object, the reason, of that hidden road. A small hut crushed +into the side of the sheer cliff. A dugout of logs, and thatch, and +mud plaster. A hut with one fronting door, and a parchment window; a +hut such as might have belonged to some old-time trapper, who had +found it necessary to set his home somewhere secure from the attacks +of marauding Indians. + +And what a strategic position it was! One approach to be barred and +barricaded; one laborious road which the besieged could sweep with his +rifle-fire, and beat back almost any horde of Indians in the country. +He led his horse on toward the hut. The door was closed, and the +parchment of the window hid the interior. + +The outside appearance showed good repair. He examined it critically. +He walked round its three sides, and, as he came to the far side of +it, and thoughtfully took in the method of its construction, he +suddenly became aware of another example of the old trapper's cunning. +The cliff that rose sheer up for another two or three hundred feet +slightly sloped backward at the extremity of the shelf, and here had +been cut a rude sort of staircase in the gray limestone of which it +was composed. There were the steps, dangerous enough, and dizzying to +look at, rising up, up, to the summit above. He ventured to the brink +where they began, but instantly drew back. Below was a sheer drop of +perhaps five hundred feet. + +Turning his eyes upward, his fancy conjured up a picture of the poor +wretch, hunted and besieged by the howling Indians, starving perhaps, +creeping at dead of night from the little fort he had held so long and +so valiantly against such overwhelming odds, and, in desperation, +availing himself of his one and only possible escape. Step by step, he +followed him, in imagination, up the awful cliff, clinging for dear +life with fingers worn and lacerated by the grinding stone. Weary and +exhausted, he seemed to see him draw near the top. Then a slip, one +slip of his tired feet, and no hold upon the limestone with his hands +would have power to save him. Down, down---- + +He turned back to the hut with a sick feeling in his stomach. Securing +his mare to an iron ring, which he found driven firmly into one of the +logs, he proceeded to investigate further. The door was held by a +common latch, and yielded at once when he raised it. It opened inward, +and he waited after throwing it open. He had a strange feeling of +trespass in thus intruding upon what might prove to be the home of +some fur-hunter. + +No sound followed the opening of the door. He waited listening; then +at last he stepped forward and announced himself with a sharp "Hello!" + +His only answer was the echo of his greeting. Without more ado he +stepped in. For a moment the sharpness of the contrast of light made +it impossible for him to see anything; but presently he became used to +the twilight of the interior, and looked about him curiously. It was +his first acquaintance with a dugout, nor was he impressed with the +comfort it displayed. The place was dirty, unkempt, and his dream of +the picturesque, old-time trapper died out entirely. He beheld walls +bare of all decoration, simply a rough plastering of mud over the +lateral logs; a frowsy cupboard, made out of a huge packing-case, +containing odd articles for housekeeping purposes. There were the +fragments of two chairs lying in a heap beside a dismembered table, +which stood only by the aid of two legs and the centre post which +supported the pitch of the roof. A rough trestle-bed occupied the far +end of the hut, and in shape and make it reminded him of his own bed +in the bunkhouse. But there the resemblance ended, for the palliasse +was of brown sacking, and a pair of dull-red blankets were tumbled in +a heap upon its foot. One more blanket of similar hue was lying upon +the floor; but this was only a torn fragment that had possibly served +as a carpet, or, to judge by other fragments lying about, had been +used to patch shirts, or even the well-worn bedclothes. + +It was a squalid hovel, and reeked of the earth out of which it was +dug. Beyond the bedding, the red blankets, and the few plates and pots +in the packing-case cupboard, there was not a sign of the owner, and +Tresler found himself wondering as to what manner of man it was who +could have endured such meanness. It did not occur to him that +probably the very trapper he had thought of had left his eyrie in +peace and taken his belongings with him, leaving behind him only those +things which were worthless. + +A few minutes satisfied his curiosity. Probably his ride, and a +natural desire to return to the ranch as quickly as possible, had +dulled the keenness of his faculties of observation. Certain it is +that, squalid as the place was, there was an air of recent habitation +about it that he missed. He took it for a deserted shack merely, and +gave it no second thought. + +He passed out into the daylight with an air of relief; he had seen +quite enough. The Lady Jezebel welcomed him with an agitated snort; +she too seemed anxious to get away. He led her down the shelving trail +again. The descent was as laborious as the ascent had been, and much +more dangerous. But it was accomplished at last, and at the foot of +the hill he mounted the now docile animal, who cantered off as amiably +as though she had never done anything wrong in her life. + +And as he rode away his thoughts reverted to the incidents of that +morning; he went again over the scenes in which he had taken part, the +scenes he had witnessed. He thought of his brief battle with Jake, of +Diane and Joe, of his interview with Fyles. All these things were of +such vital import to him that he had no thought for anything else; +even the log bridge spanning the river could not draw from him any +kind of interest. Had his mind been less occupied, he might have +paused to ask himself a question about the things he had just seen. He +might even have wondered how the logs of that dugout had been hauled +to the shelf on which it stood. Certain it was that they must have +been carried there, for there was not a single tree upon the hillside, +only a low bush. And the bridge; surely it was the work of many hands. +And why was it there on a disused trail? + +But he had no thought for such questions just then. He bustled the +mare and hurried on. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE TRAIL OF THE NIGHT-RIDERS + + +A week passed before Tresler was again brought into contact with +Jake. When he got back from his ride into the foot-hills, the +"broncho-busting" carnival was in full swing; but he was fated to have +no share in it. Jacob Smith was waiting for him with a message from +Julian Marbolt; his orders were peremptory. He was to leave at once +for Whitewater, to make preparations for the reception of the young +horses now being broken for the troops. The rancher made his meaning +quite plain. And Tresler was quick to understand that this was simply +to get him out of the way until such time as Jake's temper had cooled +and the danger of a further rupture was averted. + +He received his instructions without comment. It was rough on his +mare, but as the Lady Jezebel was fond of giving hard knocks, she must +not mind if she received a similar treatment in return. And so he +went, much to the disquiet of Joe Nelson, and with a characteristic +admonition from Arizona. That individual had just finished thrashing a +bull-headed young broncho with a quirt, because he wouldn't move from +the spot where he had been saddled, when Tresler came up. The lean man +was breathing hard as he rested, and he panted his farewell huskily. + +"Kep y'r gun good an' handy," he said. "Et's mighty good company, if +et don't git gassin' wi'out you ast it a question." + +In this case, however, there was no need for the advice. The journey +was a peaceful relief after the storms of Mosquito Bend. Tresler +transacted his business, the horses arrived, were delivered to the +authorities, and he witnessed the military methods of dealing with +their remounts, which was a wonderful example of patience and +moderation. Then he set out for the ranch again, in company with Raw +Harris and Lew Cawley--the two men who had brought the band into the +town. + +His return to Mosquito Bend was very different from his first coming. +It seemed to him as if a lifetime had passed since he had been +ridiculed about his riding-breeches by all who met him. So much had +happened since then. Now he was admittedly a full-blown prairie man, +with much to learn, perhaps, but garbed like the other cowpunchers +with him, in moleskin and buckskin, Mexican spurs, and slouch hat; his +gun-belt slantwise on his hips, and his leather chapps creaking as he +rode. He was no longer "the guy with the pants" he had been when he +first entered the land of cattle, and somehow he felt glad at the +metamorphosis. It brought him nearer to the land, which, with all its +roughness, he felt to be the true life for him. + +It was evening; the sun had not yet set, but it was dipping low +over the western hills, casting long shadows from behind the +gorgeous-colored heat clouds. Its dying lustre shone like a fire of +molten matter through the tree-tops, and lit the forest-crowned hills, +until the densest foliage appeared like the most delicate fretwork of +Nature's own cutting. And in the shadow cast by the hilly background +there nestled the ranch, overlooking its vast, wide-spreading pastures +of succulent grass. + +Yes, Tresler was glad to be back to it all, no matter what the future +might hold for him. He had missed his companions; he had missed +Arizona, with his fierce, untamed spirit; he had missed Joe, with his +quaint face and staunch heart; but more than all, he had longed to get +back to Diane, looking forward to the greeting she would extend him as +only a lover can. But there was something more in his longing than +that. Every day he had been away he had fretted and chafed at the +thought of what might be happening to her. Joe was there to send him +word, but even this was insufficient. There had been times when he +felt that he could not stay to finish the work put upon him; there had +been times when his patience utterly gave way before the nervous +tension of his feelings, and he had been ready to saddle his mare and +offer her a race against time back to the girl he loved. + +His feelings were stirred to their very depths as he came up the trail +from the ford. He had no words for either of his companions, nor did +they seem inclined for speech. They passed the corrals in silence and +reached the bunkhouse, where several of their comrades greeted them +with a nod or a casual "Hello!" They might have just returned from a +day's work on the range for all the interest displayed at their +coming. But, then, effusiveness is no part of the cowboy's manner. +There is rarely a "good-bye" on the prairie, unless it is when a +comrade "hits the one-way trail." Even then it is more often a quiet +"s'long," without any demonstrativeness, but which may mean far more +than a flood of tears. + +Jake was at his door when Tresler rode over to report. He was still +bearing the marks of the quirt on his face, and the author of them +beheld his handiwork with some qualms of regret. However, there was +none of this in his manner as he made his report. And, much to his +astonishment, Jake displayed a cold civility. He surpassed himself. +Not a sneer or sarcasm passed his lips. The report done, he went on to +the barn and stabled his mare for the night. Then he passed on toward +his quarters. + +Before he reached his destination, however, he was joined by Nelson. +The little man had evidently been waiting for him. + +"Well?" + +There was no greeting. Tresler put his monosyllabic question at once. +And the choreman responded without hesitation. + +"She's bin astin' fer you three times. When wus you gittin' around +agin? I guessed I didn't know fer sure. She wus kind o' worrited, I +reckon." He paused, and his twisted face turned in the direction of +the foreman's hut. "She wus weepin' last night," he went on. Then he +paused again, and his shrewd eyes came back to Tresler's face. "She's +bin weepin' to-day," he said, with a peculiar look of expectation in +his manner. + +"What's the trouble?" The question came short and sharp. + +"Mebbe she's lonesome." + +"That's not it; you've got other reasons." + +Joe looked away again. "Jake's bin around some. But I guess she's +lonesome too. She's ast fer you." The little man's tone was full of +obstinacy. + +Tresler understood his drift. If Joe had his way he'd march Diane and +him off to the nearest parson with no more delay than was required to +saddle two horses. + +"I'm going to see her to-night," Tresler replied quietly. Then, as he +saw Jake appear again in the doorway, he said, "You'd better pass on +now. Maybe I'll see you afterward." + +And Joe moved off without another word. Jake had seen them together, +but he was unsuspicious. He was thinking of the scars on his face, and +of something else that had nothing to do with their meeting. And his +thoughts made him smile unpleasantly. + +If Tresler's first greeting had been indifferent, his reception, as he +came over to the bunkhouse now, was far from being so. Talk flowed +freely, inquiries hailed him on every side; jests passed, sometimes +coarse, sometimes subtle, but always cordial. All the men on the ranch +had a fair good-will for him. "Tenderfoot" he might be, but they +approved his grit, and with frontiersmen grit is all that matters. + +After supper he separated himself from his companions under pretext of +cleaning his saddlery. He hauled a bucket of water, and went down to +the lower corrals and disposed his accoutrements for the operation, +but he did no work until he saw Arizona approaching. That unkempt +personage loafed up in a sort of manner that plainly said he didn't +care if he came or not. But Tresler knew this was only his manner. The +cleaning of the saddle now proceeded with assiduity, and Arizona sat +himself down on a fallen log and spat tobacco-juice around him. At +last he settled himself, nursing one knee in his clasped hands, and +spoke with that air of absolute conviction which always characterized +him. + +"Say, Jake's grittin' his teeth tight," he said. Then, as an +afterthought, "But he ain't showin' 'em." + +Tresler looked up and studied the cadaverous face before him. + +"You mean--about----" + +"Wal, I wus jest figgerin' on how you wus standin'. Seems likely +you're standin' lookin' east wi' a feller due west who's got the drop +on yer; which, to my reckonin', ain't as safe as handin' trac's to a +lodge o' Cheyenne neches on the war-path." + +"You think that Jake's quietly getting the drop on me?" + +"Wal, I allow ef I wus Jake I'd be gettin' a'mighty busy that way. An' +I kind o' calc'late that's wot he's doin'." + +Tresler smiled and returned to his work. "And what form do you think +his 'drop' will take?" he asked, without looking up. + +"I ain't gifted wi' imagination. Y' ain't never sure which way a blind +mule's likely ter kick. Jake's in the natur' of a blind mule. What I +sez is, watch him. Don't look east when he's west. Say," he went on, +in a tone of disgust, "you Noo Yorkers make me sick. Ther' ain't +nothin' ter hittin' a feller an' makin' him sore. It on'y gives him +time to git mad. A gun's handy an' sudden. On'y you need a goodish +bore ef you're goin' ter perf'rate the hide of a guy like Jake. +Pshaw!" he finished up witheringly, "you fellers ain't got shut o' +last century." + +"Maybe we haven't," Tresler retorted, with a good-humored laugh; "but +your enterprise has carried you so far ahead of time that you've +overlapped. I tell you, man, you're back in the savage times. You're +groping in the prehistoric periods--Jurassic, Eocene, or some such." + +"Guess I ain't familiar wi' Jurassics an' Eocenes," Arizona replied +gravely. "Mebbe that was before my time; but ef you're speakin' o' +them fellers as clumped each other over the head wi' stone clubs, I +'lows they had more savee than a Noo Yorker, ef they wus kind o' +primitive in the'r habits." + +Tresler accepted the argument in the spirit in which it was put +forward. It was no use getting angry. Arizona was peculiar, but he had +reason to consider him, in his own parlance, "a decent citizen." He +went on with his work steadily while the cowpuncher grunted out his +impatience. Then at last, as though it were forced from him, the +latter jerked out a more modified opinion of the civilized American. +It seemed as though Tresler's very silence had drawn it from him. + +"Wal," he said grumblingly, "mebbe you Noo Yorkers has points--mebbe, +I sez." Then he dismissed the subject with an impatient shrug of his +drooping shoulders, and went off at a fresh angle. "Say, I wus kind o' +wonderin' some 'bout that flea-bitten shadder, Joe Nelson. He's +amazin' queer stayin' 'round here. He's foxin' some, too. Y' ain't +never sure when you're like to strike them chewed-up features o' his +after nightfall. Y' see he's kind o' quit drinkin'--leastways, he's +frekent sober. Mebbe he can't sleep easy. Ther's suthin' worritin' his +head, sure. He 'pears ter me desp'rate restless--kind o' like an old +hoss wi' the bush-ticks. Et don't fit noways wi' the Joe Nelson I +oncet knew. Mebbe it's religion. Ther' ain't nuthin' like religion fer +makin' things oneasy in your head. Joe allus had a strain o' religion +in him." + +The Southerner gazed gloomily at the saddle on the fence, while he +munched his tobacco in thoughtful silence. + +"I don't think Joe's got religion," said Tresler, with a smile. "He's +certainly worried, and with reason. Jake's got his knife into him. No, +I think Joe's got a definite object in staying around here, and I +shouldn't wonder if he's clever enough to attain it, whatever it is." + +"That sounds more like Joe," assented the other, cheering up at the +suggestion. "Still, Joe allus had a strain o' religion in him," he +persisted. "I see him drop a man in his tracks oncet, an' cry like a +noo-born babby 'cos ther' wa'n't a chu'ch book in Lone Brake +Settlement, an' he'd forgot his prayers, an' had ter let the feller +lie around fer the coyotes, instead o' buryin' him decent. That's a +whiles ago. Guess Lone Brake's changed some. They do say ther's a +Bible ther' now. Kind o' roped safe to the desk in the meetin'-house, +so the boys can't git foolin' wi' it. Yup," he went on, with an +abstracted look in his expressive eyes, "religion's a mighty powerful +thing when it gits around. Most like the fever. I kind o' got touched +wi' it down Texas way on the Mexican border. Guess et wer' t' do wi' a +lady I favored at the time; but that ain't here nor there. Guess most +o' the religion comes along o' the wimmin folk. 'Longside o' wimmin +men is muck." + +Tresler nodded his appreciation of the sentiment. + +"Gettin' religion's most like goin' on the bust. Hits yer sudden, an' +yer don't git off'n it easy. The signs is allus the same. You kind o' +worry when folks gits blasphemin', an' you don't feel like takin' a +hand to help 'em out. You hate winnin' at 'draw,' an' talks easy when +a feller holds 'fours' too frekent. An' your liquor turns on your +stummick. They're all signs," he added expansively. "When a feller +gits like that he'd best git right off to the meetin'-house. That's +how I tho't." + +"And you went?" + +"That's so. Say, an' it ain't easy. I 'lows my nerve's pretty right +fer most things, but when you git monkeyin' wi' religion it's kind o' +different. 'Sides, ther's allus fellers ter choke you off. Nassy +Wilkes, the s'loon-keeper, he'd had religion bad oncet, tho' I 'lows +he'd fergot most o't sence he'd been in the s'loon biz; he kind o' +skeered me some. Sed they used a deal o' water, an' mostly got ducking +greenhorns in it. Wal, I put ha'f a dozen slugs o' whisky down my +neck--which he sed would prevent me gittin' cold, seein' water wa'n't +in my line--an' hit the trail fer the meetin'." + +"What denomination?" asked Tresler, curiously. "What religion?" he +added, for the man's better understanding. + +"Wal, I don't rightly knows," Arizona went on gravely. "I kind o' +fancy the boys called 'em 'dippers'; but I guess this yarn don't call +fer no argyment," he added, with a suspicion of his volcanic temper +rising at the frequent interruptions. Then, as the other kept silence, +he continued in his earnest way, "Guess that meetin'-house wus mostly +empty. Ther' wus one feller ther' a'ready when I come. He wus playin' +toons on a kind o' 'cordian he worked wi' his feet----" + +"Harmonium," suggested Tresler, diffidently. + +"That's it. I could 'a' wep' as I looked at that feller, he wus that +noble. He'd long ha'r greased reg'lar, an' wore swaller-tails. Guess +he wus workin' that concertina-thing like mad; an' he jest looked +right up at the ceilin' as if he wer' crazy fer some feller to come +'long an' stop him 'fore he bust up the whole shootin' match." + +"Looked inspired," Tresler suggested. + +"Mebbe that's wot. Still, I wus glad I come. Then the folks come +along, an' the deac'n; an' the feller quit. Guess he wus plumb scart +o' that deac'n, tho' I 'lows he wus a harmless-lookin' feller 'nough. +I see him clear sheer out o' range on sight, which made me think he +wus a mean-sperrited cuss anyway. + +"Yes, I guess I wus glad I'd come; I felt that easy an' wholesome. +Say, the meetin's dead gut stuff. Yes, sir--dead gut. I felt I'd never +handle a gun again; I couldn't 'a' blasphemed 'longside a babby ef +you'd give me ten dollars to try. An' I guess ther' wa'n't no dirty +Greaser as I couldn't ha' loved like a brother, I wus that soothed, +an' peaceful, an' saft feelin'. I jest took a chaw o' plug, an' sat +back an' watched them folks lookin' so noble as they come along in +the'r funeral kids an' white chokers. Then the deac'n got good an' +goin', an' I got right on to the 'A-mens,' fetchin' 'em that easy I +wished I'd never done nothin' else all my life. I set ther' feelin' +real happy." + +Arizona paused, and his wild eyes softened as his thoughts went back +to those few happy moments of his chequered career. Then he heaved a +deep sigh of regret and went on-- + +"But it wa'n't to last. No, sir, religion ain't fer the likes o' me. +Ye can't play the devil an' mix wi' angels. They're bound to out you. +Et's on'y natteral. Guess I'd bin chawin' some, an' ther' wa'n't no +spit boxes. That's wher' the trouble come. Ther' wus a raw-boned cuss +wi' his missis settin' on the bench front o' me, an' I guess her silk +fixin's got mussed up wi' t'bacca juice someways. I see her look down +on the floor, then she kind o' gathered her skirts aroun' her an' got +wipin' wi' her han'k'chief. Then she looks aroun' at me, an', me +feelin' friendly, I kind o' smiled at her, not knowin' she wus riled. +Then she got whisperin' to her wall-eyed galoot of a man, an' he turns +aroun' smart, an' he sez, wi' a scowl, sez he, 'The meetin'-house +ain't no place fer chawin' hunks o' plug, mister; wher' wus you +dragged from?' Ther' wus a nasty glint to his eye. But ef he wus goin' +to fergit we wus in the meetin'-house I meant showin' him I wa'n't. So +I answers him perlite. Sez I, wi' a smile, 'Sir,' sez I, 'I take it we +ain't from the same hog trough.' I see he took it mean, but as a +feller got up from behind an' shouts 'Silence,' I guessed things would +pass over. But that buzzard-headed mule wus cantankerous. He beckons +the other feller over an' tells him I wus chawin', an' the other +feller sez to me: 'You can't chaw here, mussin' up the lady's +fixin's.' + +"Wal, bein' on'y human, I got riled, but, not wishin' to raise a +racket, I spat my chew out. I don't know how it come, but, I guess, +bein' riled, I jest didn't take notice wher' I dumped it, till, kind +o' sudden-like, I found I wus inspectin' the vitals o' that +side-show-freak's gun. Sez he, in a nasty tone, which kind o' +interrupted the deac'n's best langwidge, an' made folks fergit to +fetch the 'A-men' right, 'You dog-gone son of a hog----' But I didn't +wait fer no more. I sees then what's amiss. My chaw had located itself +on the lady's ankle--which I 'lows wus shapely--which she'd left +showin' in gatherin' her fixin's aroun' her. I see that, an' I see his +stovepipe hat under the seat. I jest grabbed that hat sudden, an' +'fore he'd had time to drop his hammer I'd mushed it down on his head +so he couldn't see. Then I ups, wi' the drop on him, an' I sez: 'Come +right along an' we'll settle like honest cit'zens.' An' wi' that I +backed out o' the meetin'. Wal, I guess he wus clear grit. We settled. +I 'lows he wus a dandy at the bizness end o' a gun, an' I walked lame +fer a month after. But ther' was a onattached widdy in that town when +we'd done." + +"You killed him?" Tresler asked. + +"Wal, I didn't wait to ast no details. Guess I got busy fergittin' +religion right off. Mebbe ther's a proper time fer ev'rything, an' I +don't figger it's reas'nable argyfyin' even wi' a deac'n when his +swaller-tail pocket's bustin' wi' shootin' materials. No, sir, guess +religion ain't no use fer me." + +Arizona heaved a deep sigh of regret. Tresler gathered up his saddle +and bridle. Once or twice he had been ready to explode with laughter +during his companion's story, but the man's evident sincerity and +earnestness had held him quiet; had made him realize that the story +was in the nature of a confidence, and was told in no spirit of +levity. And, somehow, now, at the end of it, he felt sorry for this +wandering outcast, with no future and only a disreputable past. He +knew there was far more real good in him than bad, and yet there +seemed no possible chance for him. He would go on as he was; he would +"punch" cattle so long as he could find employment. And when chance, +or some other matter, should plunge him on his beam ends, he would +take to what most cowboys in those days took to when they fell upon +evil days--cattle-stealing. And, probably, end his days dancing at the +end of a lariat, suspended from the bough of some stout old tree. + +As he moved to go, Arizona rose abruptly from his seat, and stayed him +with a gesture. + +"Guess I got side-tracked yarnin'. I wanted to tell you a few things +that's bin doin' sence you've bin away." + +Tresler stood. + +"Say," the other went on at once, "ther's suthin' doin' thick 'tween +Jake an' blind hulks. Savee? I heerd Jake an' Miss Dianny gassin' at +the barn one day. She wus ther' gittin' her bit of a shoe fixed by +Jacob--him allus fixin' her shoes for her when they needs it--an' Jake +come along and made her go right in an' look at the new driver he wus +breakin' fer her. Guess they didn't see me, I wus up in the loft +puttin' hay down. When they come in I wus standin' takin' a chaw, an' +Jake's voice hit me squar' in the lug, an' I didn't try not to hear +what he said. An' I soon felt good that I'd held still. Sez he, 'You +best come out wi' me an' learn to drive her. She's dead easy.' An' +Miss Dianny sez, sez she, 'I'll drive her when she's thoroughly +broken!' An' he sez, 'You mean you ain't goin' out wi' me?' An' she +answers short-like, 'No.' Then sez he, mighty riled, 'You shan't go +out with that mare by yourself to meet no Treslers,' sez he. 'I'll +promise you that. See? Your father's on to your racket, I've seen to +that. He knows you an' him's bin sparkin', an' he's real mad. That's +by the way,' he sez. 'What I want to tell you's this. You're goin' to +marry me, sure. See? An' your father's goin' to make you.' An' Miss +Dianny jest laffed right out at him. But her laff wa'n't easy. An' sez +she, wi' mock 'nuff to make a man feel as mean as rank sow-belly, +'Father will never let me marry, and you know it.' An' Jake stands +quiet a minnit. Then I guess his voice jest rasped right up to me +through that hay-hole. 'I'm goin' to make him,' sez he, vicious-like. +'A tidy ranch, this, eh? Wal, I tell you his money an' his stock an' +his land won't help him a cent's worth ef he don't give you to me. I +ken make him lick my boots if I so choose. See?' Ther' wa'n't another +word spoke. An' I heerd 'em move clear. Then I dropped, an' pushin' my +head down through the hay-hole, I see that Jake's goin' out by +hisself. Miss Dianny had gone out clear ahead, an' wus talkin' to +Jacob." + +"What do you think it means?" asked Tresler, quietly. + +And in a moment the other shot off into one of his volcanic surprises. + +"I ain't calc'latin' the'r meanin'. Say, Tresler." The man paused, and +his great rolling eyes glanced furtively from right to left. Then he +came close up and spoke in a harsh whisper. "It's got to be. He ain't +fit to live. This is wot I wus thinkin'. I'll git right up to his +shack, an' I'll call him every son-of-a---- I ken think of. See? He'll +git riled, an'--wal, I owe her a debt o' gratitood, an' I can't never +pay it no other ways, so I'll jest see my slug finds his carkis right, +'fore he does me in." + +Arizona stepped back with an air of triumph. He could see no flaw in +his plan. It was splendid, subtle. + +It was the one and only way to settle all the problems centering round +the foreman. Thus he would pay off a whole shoal of debts, and rid +Diane of Jake forever. And he felt positively injured when Tresler +shook his head. + +"You would pay her ill if you did that," he said gravely. "Jake was +probably only trying to frighten her. Besides, he is her father's +foreman. The man he trusts and relies on." + +"You ain't got no savee," Arizona broke out in disgust. "Say, he won't +need no foreman when Jake's out of the way. You'll marry the gal, +an'----" + +But he got no further. Tresler interrupted him coldly. + +"That's enough, Arizona. We aren't going to discuss it further. In the +meantime, believe me that I am wide awake to my position, and to Miss +Marbolt's, and ready to do the best for her in emergency. I must get +on now, for I have several things to do before I turn in." + +Arizona had no more to say. He relapsed into moody silence, and, as +they moved away together, Tresler was thankful for the freakish chance +that had made this man come to him with his plan before putting it +into execution. It was dark now, and as they reached the bunkhouse +they parted. Tresler deposited his saddle at the barn, but he did not +return to the bunkhouse. He meant to see Diane before he turned in, by +hook or by crook. + +He knew that the time had come when he must actively seek to help her. +When Jake openly threatened her, and she was found weeping, there was +certainly need of that help. He was alarmed, seriously alarmed, and +yet he hardly knew what it was he feared most. He quite realized the +difficulties that confronted him. She had given him no right to +interfere in her affairs. More, she would have every reason to resent +such interference. But, in spite of this, he held to his resolve. It +was his love that urged him on, his love that overbore his scruples, +his gravest apprehensions. He told himself that he had the right which +every man has. The right to woo and win for himself the love he +covets. It was for Diane to say "yea" or "nay," not her father. There +was no comfort she had been accustomed to, or even luxury, that he +could not give her. There was no earthly reason why he should not try +to win her. He vividly called to mind what Joe had suggested, and +Arizona's unfinished sentence rang in his ears, but both suggestions +as a basis of hope he set aside with a lover's egotism. What could +these men know or understand of such a matter? + +He had left the barn, and his way took him well out from the ranch +yards in the direction of the pinewoods. He remembered his walk on his +first night on the ranch, and meant to approach the back of the blind +man's house by the same route. + +The calm of the prairie night had settled upon the ranch. The lowing +of the cattle was hushed, the dogs were silent; and the voices of men +and the tramp of horses' hoofs were gone. There was only the harsh +croaking of the frogs in the Mosquito River and the cry of the +prowling coyote to disturb the peace of the summer night. + +And as he walked, he felt for the first time something of the grip +which sooner or later the prairie fixes upon those who seriously seek +life upon its bosom. Its real fascination begins only when the first +stages of apprenticeship to its methods and habits are passing. The +vastness of its world, its silence, its profound suggestion of +solitude, which ever remains even where townships and settlements +exist, holds for man a fascination which appeals to the primitive +senses and drags him back from the claims of civilization to the old, +old life. And when that call comes, and the latent savage is roused +from the depths of subjection, is it wonder that men yield to what, +after all, is only the true human instinct--the right of the +individual to defend itself from all attacks of foes? No; and so +Tresler argued as he thought of the men who were his comrades. + +Under the influence of his new feelings it seemed to him that life was +so small a thing, on which folks of civilization set much too high a +value. The ready appeal to the gun, which seemed to be one of the +first principles of the frontiersman's life, was already beginning to +lose its repugnance for him. After all, where no arbitration could be +enforced, men still had a right to defend self and property. + +His thoughts wandered on through a maze of argument which convinced +him notwithstanding he told himself that it was all wrong. He told +himself weakly that his thoughts were the result of the demoralizing +influence of lawless associates, but, in spite of this, he felt that +there was, in reality, something in them of a deeper, more abiding +nature. + +He had made the woodland fringe, and was working his way back toward +the house. The darkness was profound here. The dense, sad-foliaged +pines dropped their ponderous boughs low about him as he passed, +shielding him from all possible view from the ranch. And, even over +the underlay of brittle cones, his moccasined feet bore him along in +a silent, ghostly manner. It was the first time in his life he had +been forced to steal upon anybody's house like a thief in the night; +but he felt that his object was more than sufficient justification. + +Now he looked keenly for any sign of lights among the ranch buildings. +The bunkhouse was in darkness, but Jake's house was still lit up. +However, this did not bother him much. He knew that the foreman was in +the habit of keeping his lamp burning, even after retiring. Perhaps he +read at night. The idea amused him, and he wondered what style of +literature might appeal to a man of Jake's condition of mind. But even +as he watched, the light went out, and he felt more satisfied. + +He reached a point on the edge of the forest opposite the barn. Then +something brought him up with a start. Some unusual sound had caught +his ear. It was the murmur of voices in the distance. Immediately his +mind went back to his first night on the ranch, and he remembered Red +Mask and his attendant horseman. Now he listened, peering hard into +the darkness in the direction of the house, at the point whence the +sound was proceeding. Whoever were talking they seemed to be standing +still. The sound grew no louder, nor did it die away. His curiosity +drew him on; and with cautious steps, he crept forward. + +He tried to estimate how far the speakers were from the house. It +seemed to him that they were somewhere in the neighborhood of the +rancher's private stable. But he could not be altogether sure. + +Now, as he drew nearer, the voices became louder. He could distinctly +hear the rise and fall of their tones, but still they were +unrecognizable. Again he paused, this time for caution's sake only. He +estimated that he was within twenty-five yards of the stable. It would +not be safe to go further. The steady murmur that reached him was +tantalizing. Under ordinary circumstances he would have risked +discovery and gone on, but he could not jeopardize his present object. + +He stretched himself under the shelter of a low bush, and, strangely +enough, recognized it as the one he had lain under on that memorable +first night. This realization brought him a grim foreboding; he knew +what he expected, he knew what was coming. And his foreboding was +fulfilled within a few seconds of taking up his position. + +Suddenly he heard a door close, and the voices ceased speaking. He +waited almost breathlessly for the next move. It came. The crackling +of pine cones under shod hoofs sounded sharply to his straining ears. +It was a repetition of what had happened before. Two horsemen were +approaching from the direction of the house. It was inevitable that +his hand should go to his gun, and, as he realized his own action, he +understood how surely the prairie instincts had claimed him. But he +withdrew it quickly and waited, for he had no intention of taking +action. It might be Red Mask. It probably was. But he had no intention +of upsetting his present plans by any blind, precipitate attack upon +the desperado. Besides, if Red Mask and Jake were one, then the +shooting of him, in cold blood, in the vicinity of the ranch, would, +in the eyes of the police, be murder. No story of his would convince a +jury that the foreman of Mosquito Bend was a cattle-rustler. + +A moment later the horses dimly outlined themselves. There were two of +them, as before. But he could not see well, the woods seemed darker +than before; and, besides, they did not pass so near to him. They went +on like ghostly, silent shadows, only the scrunch of the cones +underfoot told of their solidity. + +He waited until the sound died out, then he rose quietly and pursued +his way. But what he had just witnessed plunged his thoughts into a +moody channel. The night-riders were abroad again, riding unchecked +upon their desperate way, over the trail of murder and robbery they +cut for themselves wherever they went. He wondered with dread who was +to be victim to-night. He remembered Manson Orr and shuddered. He had +a bitter feeling that he had acted wrongly in letting them pass +unchallenged in spite of what reason and a cool judgment told him. His +duty had been to investigate, but he also thought of a sad-faced girl, +friendless and alone, weeping her heart out in the midst of her own +home. And somehow his duty faded out before the second picture. And, +as though to further encourage him, the memory of Joe Nelson's words +came to him suddenly, and continued to haunt him persistently. + +"You'll jest round that gal up into your own corrals, an' set your own +brand on her quick, eh?" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE RISING OF A SUMMER STORM + + +When the horsemen had passed out of hearing, Tresler still exerted the +utmost caution. He had yet to pass the blind man's room, and he knew +that that individual's hearing was something bordering on the +marvelous, and, he argued, he must still be up, or, at least, awake. +So he moved on with the lightest tread, with every sense alert; +watchful alike for every unusual sound or movement. At the stable he +paused and gently tried the door. It was fast. He put his ear to it +and listened, and was forced to be content with the rattle of the +collar chains, and the sound of the heavy-breathing animals within. He +would have liked to investigate further, for the noise of the shutting +door, he knew, had come from the stable, but it behooved him to +refrain. It would be worse than useless to rouse the man, Anton, who +slept over the stable. And there was no other means of ascertaining +what had been going on. + +He crept on; and now the shadowy outline of the house itself shut him +off from the ranch. He cleared the danger zone of the rancher's +bedroom and reached the kitchen, where he met with a first +disappointment. He was relieved and delighted to find that a light was +still burning there; but his joy was dashed almost immediately by +finding that the linen blind was down, and not a crack showed by +which he could get a view of the room. He dared not go to the door +until he had ascertained who was within, so he stood for a moment +uncertain what to do. Then he suddenly remembered that the kitchen had +another window on the far side of the lean-to. It would mean passing +out into the open again; still, the darkness was such that the risk +was reduced to a minimum. + +With no further hesitation he hurried round. His only care now was to +tread quietly, and even this seemed unnecessary, for the blind man's +room was at the other side of the house, and, if his suspicions were +correct, Jake was busy at his nocturnal trade. Fortune favored him. +The blind was down, but the lower sash of the window was raised, and +he saw that, by pulling the linen on one side, he could obtain a full +view of the room. + +He was about to carry out his purpose. His hand was raised and +reaching toward the window, when the sound of weeping came to him and +checked his action. He stood listening for a second. Then, with a +stifled ejaculation, he thrust his hand out further, and caught the +edge of the blind. + +He paused for nothing now. He had no scruples. He knew without inquiry +who it was that was weeping within; who else but Diane could it be? +And at the sound of each choking sob, his heart was wrung, and he +longed to clasp her in his arms and comfort her. This love of his +which had taken its place so suddenly in his life thrilled through his +body like a fiery torrent roused to fever heat by the sound of the +girl's sobs. + +Drawing the edge of the blind sharply on one side, he peered into the +room. His worst fears were realized. Diane was at the far side of the +kitchen sitting over the square cook-stove, rocking herself to and fro +in an access of misery, and, in what seemed to him, an attitude of +physical suffering. Her pretty head was bowed low upon her hands, and +her whole frame was shaken by the sobs she was struggling hard to, but +could not, suppress. + +He took all this in at a glance, then his eyes rested upon her arms. +The sleeves of her dress had been unfastened, and were thrown back +from her wrists, leaving them bare to the elbow. And he saw, to his +horror and indignation, that the soft, rounded flesh of her forearm +was swollen and bruised. The sight made him clench his teeth, and his +blue eyes suddenly hardened. He no longer permitted caution to govern +his actions. + +"Hist, Diane!" he whispered hoarsely. And he shook the stiff blind to +further draw her attention. "It is I, Tresler," he went on urgently. + +And the girl sprang from her seat instantly and faced the window. She +dashed her hand across her eyes and hastily sought to readjust her +sleeves. But the pitiful attempt to thus hide her trouble only made +the signs more marked. The tears still flowed, in spite of her bravest +manner, and no effort of hers was able to keep the sweet lips from +quivering. + +She took one step in the direction of the window, but drew up with +such a violent start and expression of alarm in her tearful eyes, that +Tresler peered all round the room for the cause. He saw nothing more +startling than a slumbering cat and the fragments of a broken lamp +upon the floor, and his eyes went back to her again. Then, as he +marked her attitude of attention, he understood. She was listening for +the familiar but ominous "tap, tap" of her father's stick. He too +listened. Then, as no sound came to his straining ears, he spoke +again. + +"I must speak with you, Miss Diane," he whispered. "Open the back +door." + +It was only after making his demand that he realized how impossible it +must have sounded to the distraught girl. It was the first time, since +he had set out to see her, that it occurred to him how one-sided was +the proposition. She had no knowledge of his resolve to thrust his aid +upon her. He told himself that she could have no possible inkling of +his feelings toward her; and he waited with no little anxiety for her +response. + +Nor was that response long in coming. She made another effort to dash +the tears from her eyes. Then, half defiantly and half eagerly, she +stepped up to the window. + +"Go round to the door, quick!" she whispered, and moved off again as +though she stood in imminent peril as a consequence of her words. + +And Tresler was round at the door and standing in the shadow of the +water-barrel before the bolt was slipped back. Now, as the girl raised +the latch and silently opened the door, he slid within. He offered no +explanation, but simply pointed to the window. + +"We must close that," he said in a low tone. + +And Diane obeyed without demur. There was a quiet unobtrusive force +about this man whenever his actions were directed into a definite +channel. And Diane found herself complying without the least +resentment, or even doubt as to the necessity for his orders. Now she +came back to him, and raised a pair of trusting eyes to his face, and +he, looking down into them, thought he had never gazed upon anything +so sweetly pathetic; nor had he ever encountered anything quite so +rousing as the implicit trust of her manner toward him. Whatever he +had felt for her before, it was as nothing to the delicious sense of +protection, the indefinable wave of responsibility, almost parental, +that now swept over him. He felt that, come what might, she was his to +cherish, to guard, to pilot through whatever shoals her life might +hold for her. It was the effect of her simple womanly trust appealing +to his manhood, unconsciously for her part, but nevertheless surely. +Nor was that feeling only due to his love for her; it was largely the +chivalrous instinct of a brave and strong man for a weak woman that +filled his heart at that moment. + +"There is a lot for us to talk about," he said. "A lot that others +mustn't hear," he added thoughtfully. + +"What others?" Diane asked anxiously. + +Tresler deemed it best to avoid half measures, and answered with +prompt decision-- + +"Your father, for one." + +"Then," said Diane, steadying at once, "we had better close the door +into the passage." + +She suited the action to the word, and returned dry-eyed and calm. + +"My father?" Her question was sharp; it was a demand. + +Instead of answering her, Tresler pointed to the broken lamp on the +floor. + +"You have had an accident," he said, and his blue eyes compelled hers, +and held them. + +"Yes," she said, after the least possible hesitation. Then, not +without a slight touch of resentment: "But you have not answered my +question." + +"I'll answer that later on. Let me go on in my own way." + +The girl was impressed with the gravity of his manner. She felt uneasy +too. She felt how impossible it would be to hide anything from this +man, who, quiet yet kindly, could exercise so masterful an influence +over her. And there was a good deal just now she would have liked to +keep from him. While they were talking she drew the sleeves of her +dress down over her bruised wrists. Tresler saw the action and called +her attention to the blackened flesh she was endeavoring to hide. + +"Another accident?" he asked. And Diane kept silence. "Two accidents, +and--tears," he went on, in so gentle a tone that fresh tears slowly +welled up into her eyes. "That is quite unlike you, Miss--Diane. One +moment. Let me look." He reached out to take her hands, but she drew +away from him. He shrugged his shoulders. "I wonder if it were an +accident?" he said, his keen eyes searching her face. "It would be +strange to bruise both wrists by--accident." + +The girl held silent for a while. It was evident that a struggle was +going on in her mind. Tresler watched. He saw the indecision. He knew +how sorely he was pressing his advantage. Yet he must do it, if he +would carry out his purpose. He felt that he was acting the brute, but +it was the only way. Every barrier must be swept aside. At last she +threw her head back with an impatient movement, and a slight flush of +anger tinged her cheeks. + +"And what if it were no accident?" + +"The bruises or the lamp?" + +"Both." + +"Then"--and Tresler's tone was keenly incisive--"it is the work of +some cruelly disposed person. You would not wilfully bruise yourself, +Diane," he moved nearer to her, and his voice softened wonderfully; +"is there any real reason why you cannot trust me with the truth? May +I not share something of your troubles? See, I will save you the pain +of the telling. If I am right, do not answer me, and I shall +understand. Your father has been here, and it was his doing--these +things." + +The anger had passed out of the girl's face, and her eyes, troubled +enough but yielding, looked up into his. + +"But how do you----?" + +"Some one, we both know whom, has maliciously been talking to your +father," Tresler went on, without heeding the interruption; "has been +lying to him to prejudice him against me--us. And your father has +accepted his tales without testing their veracity. Having done so, he +has spoken to you. What has passed between you I do not know, nor +shall I attempt to fathom. The result is more than sufficient for me. +You are unhappy; you have been unusually unhappy for days. You have +wept much, and now you bear signs of violence on your arms." + +Diane averted her gaze, her head was bent, and her eyes were fixed +upon the broken lamp. + +"Shall I go on?" Tresler continued. "Shall I tell you the whole story? +Yes, I had better." + +Diane nodded without looking at him. + +"You know most of it, but you may not have looked at it quite in the +same way that I do." His tone was very low, there was a great depth of +earnestness in it. "We are all in the midst of a foul conspiracy, and +that conspiracy it is for us to break up. Your father is threatened. +You know it. And you are threatened with marriage to a rascal that +should be wiped off the face of the earth. And this is the work of one +man whom we believe to be the scourge of the countryside; whom we call +Red Mask or Jake Harnach, according to when and where we meet him. +Now, is this all to go on without protest? Will you submit? Is your +father to be victimized?" + +The girl shook her head. + +"No," she said. Then with a sudden burst of passion she went on, only +keeping her voice low by the greatest effort. "But what can we do? I +have warned father. He has been told all that you have told me. He +laughed. And I grew angry. Then he grew angry, too. And--and these +things are the result. Oh, he hates you because he believes Jake's +stories. And he scorns all my accusations against Jake, and treats me +worse than some silly, tattling servant girl. How can we do anything?" + +It was that last question that set fire to the powder-train. She had +coupled herself with him, and Tresler, seeking only the faintest +loophole, jumped at the opportunity it afforded him. His serious face +softened. A slow, gentle smile crept into his eyes, and Diane was held +by their caressing gaze. + +"We can do something. We are going to do something," he said. "Not +singly, but together; you and I." + +There was that in his manner that made the girl droop her eyelids. +There was a warmth, a light in his eyes he had never permitted her to +see before, and her woman's instinct set her heart beating fast, so +fast that she trembled and fidgeted nervously. + +"Diane," he went on, reaching out and quietly taking possession of one +of her hands, and raising it till the bared wrist displayed the cruel +bruise encircling it, "no man has a right to lay a hand upon a woman +to give her pain. A woman has a right to look to her men-folk to +protect her, and when they fail her, she is indeed in sore straits. +This," touching the bruises with his finger, "is the work of your +father, the man of all who should protect you. You are sadly alone, so +much alone that I cannot see what will be the end of it--if it is +allowed to go on. Diane, I love you, and I want you, henceforward, to +let me be your protector. You will need some whole-hearted support in +the future. I can see it. And you can see it too. Say, tell me, +little girl, fate has pitched us together in a stormy sea, surely it +is for me to aid you with all the loving care and help I can bestow. +Believe me, I am no idle boaster. I do not even say that my protection +will be worth as much as that of our faithful old Joe, but, such as it +is, it is yours, whether you take me with it or no, for as long as I +live." + +Diane had had time to recover from her first embarrassment. She knew +that she loved this man; knew that she had done so almost from the +very first. He was so different from the men she had known about the +ranch. She understood, and acknowledged without shame, the feeling +that had prompted her first warning to him. She knew that ever since +his coming to the ranch he had hardly ever been out of her thoughts. +She had never attempted to deceive herself about him. All she had +feared was that she might, by some chance act, betray her feelings to +him, and so earn his everlasting contempt. She was very simple and +single-minded. She had known practically no association with her sex. +Her father, who had kept her a willing slave by his side all her life, +had seen to that. And so she had been thrown upon her own resources, +with the excellent result that she had grown up with a mind untainted +by any worldly thought. And now, when this man came to her with his +version of the old, old story, she knew no coquetry, knew how to +exercise no coyness or other blandishment. She made no pretense of any +sort. She loved him, so what else was there to do but to tell him so? + +"Joe has been my faithful protector for years, Mr. Tresler," she +replied, her sweet round face blushing and smiling as she raised it to +him, "and I know his value and goodness. But--but I'd sooner have +you--ever so much." + +And of her own accord she raised her other hand to his and placed it +trustfully within his only too willing clasp. But this was not +sufficient for Tresler. He reached out and took her in his powerful +arms and drew her to his breast. And when he released her there were +tears again in her eyes, but they were tears of happiness. + +"And now, sweetheart, we must be practical again," he said. "If I am +to be your protector, I must not allow my inclination to interfere +with duty. Some day, when you are my wife, we shall be able to look +back on this time and be proud of our restraint. Just now it is hard. +It is a moment for kisses and happy dreams, and these things are +denied us----" + +He broke off and started as the flutter of the linen blind behind him +drew his attention. + +"I thought you shut the window," he said sharply. + +"I thought I did; perhaps I didn't quite close it." + +Diane was about to move over to investigate, but Tresler restrained +her. + +"Wait." + +He went instead. The window was open about six inches. He closed and +bolted it, and came back with a smile on his face that in no way +deceived the girl. + +"Yes, you left it open," he said. + +And Diane's reply was an unconvinced "Ah!" + +"Now let us be quick," he went on. "Jake may threaten and bully, but +he can do nothing to really hurt you. You are safe from him. For, +before anything can possibly happen--I mean to you--I shall be on hand +to help you. Joe is our watch-dog, asking his pardon. You can take +heart in the thought that you are no longer alone. But developments +are imminent, and I want you to watch your father closely, and +endeavor to ascertain Jake's attitude toward him. This is my +fear--that Jake may put some nefarious scheme, as regards him, into +operation; such schemes as we cannot anticipate. He may even try to +silence me, or make me ineffective in some way before such time comes +along. He may adopt some way of getting rid of me----" + +"What way?" There was a world of fear and anxiety in Diane's question, +and she drew up close to him as though she would protect him with her +own frail body. + +Tresler shrugged. "I don't know. But it doesn't matter; I have my +plans arranged. The thing that is of more importance is the fact that +the night-riders are abroad again. I saw them on my way here. At the +same spot where I saw them before. This time I shall not conceal my +knowledge of the fact." + +"You mean you will tell Jake--to his face?" + +Diane gave a little gasp, and her beautiful eyes fixed themselves +apprehensively upon his. They had in their depths a soft look of +admiration, in spite of her anxiety and fear. But Tresler saw nothing +of that. He took her question seriously. + +"Certainly; it is my only means of getting into line of battle. By +this means I shall make myself the centre of open attack--if all our +surmises be true. It is getting late and I must go. I want to witness +the return of the ruffians." + +A silence fell. The man had said it was time for him to go, but he +found it hard to tear himself away. He wanted to say so much to her; +he wanted to ask her so much. Diane, half shyly, came a step nearer to +him, and, though her face was smiling bravely, a pucker wrinkled her +brows. + +"Mr. Tresler----" + +"I was christened 'John.'" + +"John, then." The girl blushed faintly as she pronounced the name, +which, spoken by her, seemed to seal the bond between them. "Is it +absolutely necessary to tell Jake? Is it absolutely necessary to put +yourself in such peril? Couldn't you----" + +But she got no further. Her lover's arms were about her in an instant. +He caught her to him in a great embrace and kissed her pleading, +upturned face. + +"Yes, yes, yes, child. It is absolutely necessary. No, you can't go +yet," as she struggled feebly to free herself. "I ought to leave you +now, yet I can hardly tear myself away. I have heaps to ask you: about +yourself, your life, your father. I want to learn all there is in your +little head, in your heart, little girl. I want to make our bond of +love one of perfect sympathy and understanding of each other; of trust +and confidence. It is necessary. We come together here with +storm-clouds gathering on our horizon; with the storm actually +breaking. We come together under strange and unusual circumstances, +and must fight for this love of ours. Ours will be no flower-strewn +path. This much I have fully realized; but it only makes me the more +determined to see it through quickly. We have to fight--good. We will +be early in the field. Now good-night, sweetheart. God bless you. +Trust to me. Whatever I do will be done after careful deliberation; +with a view to our common goal. If I am wrong, so much the worse. I +will do all that is given me to do. And, last, remember this. Should +anything happen to me, you have two friends who will never let Jake +marry you. They are Joe and Arizona. Now, good-bye again." + +"But nothing will happen to you--Jack?" + +Every vestige of independence, every atom of the old self-reliance had +gone from the girl's manner. She clung to him, timid, loving, a +gentle, weak woman. Her whole soul was in her appeal and the look she +bestowed. + +"I hope not. Courage, little woman. I remember the white dress, the +sad, dark little face beneath the straw sun-hat of the girl who knew +no fear when two men held thoughts of slaying each other, and were +almost in the act of putting them into execution. You must remember +her too." + +"You are right, Jack. I will be brave and help you, if I can. +Good-bye." + +They kissed once more, and Tresler hurried from the room with the +precipitancy of a man who can only hold to his purpose by an +ignominious flight from temptation. + +Outside the door he paused, turned, and closed it carefully after him. +And then he listened intently. He had in no way been deceived by the +window business. He knew, as Diane knew, that she had closed it. Some +hand from outside had opened it; and he wondered whose had been the +hand, and what the purpose. + +When he passed out of the kitchen, the whole aspect of the night had +changed. There was not a star visible, and the only light to guide him +was that which shone through the window. He waited while Diane bolted +the door, then, as nothing appeared to cause him alarm, he moved off. +He had to pass round the shed where Joe slept. This was an addition to +the kitchen, and quite shut off from the house. He groped his way +along the wall of it till he came to the door, which stood open. He +was half inclined to go in and rouse the little choreman. He felt that +he would like to tell his old friend of his luck, his happiness. Then +it flashed through his mind that, seeing the door was open, Joe might +still be abroad. So he contented himself with listening for the sound +of his breathing. All was still within; his conjecture was right. Joe +had not yet turned in. + +He was puzzled. Where was Joe, and what was he doing at this hour of +the night? + +He moved on slowly now. His thoughts were fully occupied. He was not +the man to let a single detail pass without careful analysis. And the +matter was curious. Especially in conjunction with the fact of the +open window. He attributed no treachery to Joe, but the thing wanted +explanation. He rounded the building, and as he did so understood the +change in the weather. A sharp gust of wind took him, and he felt +several drops of rain splash upon his face. A moment later a flash of +lightning preceded a distant rumble of thunder. + +He quickened his pace and drew out into the open, leaving the shadow +of the woods behind him as he turned toward the ranch buildings. The +light in the kitchen had been put out. Evidently Diane had already +gone to bed. He stepped out briskly, and a moment later another flash +of lightning revealed the window close beside him. He mechanically +stretched out a hand and felt along the sill. It was tightly closed +all right. A crash of thunder warned him of the quick-rising summer +storm that was upon him, and the rain was coming down with that +ominous solidity which portends a real, if brief, deluge. He started +at a run. A drenching at that hour was unpleasant to contemplate. He +had intended witnessing the return of the night-riders, but, under the +circumstances, that was now out of the question. + +He had only gone a few paces when he brought up to a stand. Even +amidst the noisy splashing of the rain, he thought he heard the sound +of running feet somewhere near by; so he stood listening with every +nerve straining. Then the promised deluge came and drowned every other +sound. It was no use waiting longer, so he hurried on toward his +quarters. + +A dozen strides further on and the sky was split from end to end with +a fork of lightning, and he was brought to a dead halt by the scene +it revealed. It was gone in an instant, and the thunder crashed right +above him. He had distinctly seen the figures of two men running. One +was running toward him, and, curiously enough, the other was running +from his left rear. And yet he had seen them both. Utterly heedless of +the rain now, he waited for another flash. There was something strange +doing, and he wished to fathom the mystery. + +The duration of the storm was only a matter of a few minutes. It +seemed to have spent itself in one flash of lightning and one peal of +thunder. The second flash was long in coming. But at last a hazy sheet +of white light shone for a second over the western sky, revealing the +ghostly shadow of a man coming at him, bearing in his upraised hand +some heavy weapon of offense. He leapt to avoid the blow. But he was +too late. The weapon descended, and, though he flung his arms to +protect himself, the darkness foiled him, and a crushing blow on the +head felled him to the ground. And as he fell some great noise roared +in his ears, or so it seemed, and echoed and reëchoed through his +head. Then he knew no more. + +All sound was lost in the deluge of rain. The sky was unrelieved by +any further flashes of light for many minutes. Then, at last, one +came. A weak, distant lighting up of the clouds, overhead, but it was +sufficient to show the outstretched form of the stricken man lying +with his white face staring up at the sky. Also it revealed a shadowy +figure bending over him. There was no face visible, no distinct +outline of form. And this figure was moving, and appeared to be +testing the lifeless condition of the fallen man. + +Half an hour later the rain ceased, but the water was still racing +down the hill in little trickling rivulets toward the ranch buildings. +And as rapidly as the storm had come up so the sky cleared. Again the +stars shone out and a faint radiance dimly outlined the scene of the +attack. + +Within fifty yards of the rancher's house Tresler was still stretched +out upon the ground, but now a different figure was bending over him. +It was a well-defined figure this time, a familiar figure. A little +man with a gray head and a twisted face. + +It was Joe Nelson trying, by every rough art his prairie life had +taught him, to restore animation and consciousness in his friend. For +a long time his efforts were unavailing; the task seemed hopeless. +Then, when the little man had begun to fear the very worst, his +patient suddenly moved and threw out his legs convulsively. Once the +springs of life had been set in motion, the hardy constitution +asserted itself, and, without further warning, Tresler sat bolt +upright and stared about him wonderingly. For a few seconds he sat +thus, then, with a movement of intense agony, one hand went up to his +head. + +"My God! What's the matter with me? My head!" + +He slowly rocked himself for a brief spell; then, with another start, +he recognized his friend, and, with an effort, sprang to his feet. + +"Joe!" he cried. Then he reeled and would have fallen but for the +supporting arm about his waist. + +"You wer' nigh 'done up.' Say, I wus kind o' rattled. I'd shaddered +that feller fer an hour or more, an' then lost him. Gee!" And there +was an infinite expression of disgust in the exclamation. + +"Him! Who?" + +"Ther's on'y one feller around here hatin' you fit to murder, I +guess." + +"You mean--Jake?" asked Tresler, in a queer tone. + +"Sure," was the emphatic reply. + +"But, Joe, I saw the night-riders go out to-night. Not more than half +an hour before the storm came on." + +The little man made no answer, but quietly urged his patient forward +in the direction of the bunkhouse. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE BEARDING OF JAKE + + +That night was one that lived long in Tresler's memory. Weary in mind +and body, he was yet unable to sleep when at last he sought his bunk. +His head was racked with excruciating pain, which hammered through his +brain with every pulsation of his throbbing temples. But it was not +that alone which kept him awake. Thought ran riot with him, and his +mind flew from one scene to another without concentration, without +continuity, until he felt that if sleep did not come he must go mad. + +He had talked late into the night with his shrewd counselor, Joe; and +the net result of their talk was that all their theories, suspicions, +deductions, were wrong. Jake and Red Mask were not one and the same. +In all probability Jake had nothing to do with the ruffianly raider. + +They were driven to this ultimate conclusion by the simple fact that +while Tresler had been witnessing the movements of the masked +night-rider, Joe had been zealously dogging the footsteps of the +foreman in the general interests of his mistress. And that +individual's footsteps had never once taken him to the rancher's +private stable. + +Jake had evidently been out on the spy himself. Of this Joe was +certain, for the man had scoured the woods in the direction of the +river; he had watched the trail from the rancher's stable for nearly +half an hour; he had crept up to the verandah of the house under cover +of the darkness, seeking Joe knew not what, but always on the alert, +always with the unmistakable patience of a man by no means new to such +a task. Once Joe had missed him in the woods. Somehow, like a gigantic +shadow, Jake had contrived to give him the slip. And this, on +comparing notes, the two friends found coincided with the time of the +episode of the unclosed window. Doubtless he had been the author of +that matter. They made up their minds that he had witnessed the scene +in the kitchen, which, of course, accounted for his later dastardly +attack. Who had Jake been out looking for? What was the object of his +espionage? Had he been looking for him, Tresler, or some one else? And +herein lay the mystery. Herein, perhaps, lay the key to the greater +problem they sought to solve. + +Hour after hour Tresler lay awake, lost in a confusion of thought +which refused his best efforts to straighten out. The acuteness of the +pain in his head set his mind almost wandering. And he found himself +aimlessly reviewing the events since his coming to Mosquito Bend. He +tossed wearily, drearily, on his unyielding palliasse, driven to a +realization of his own utter impotence. What had he done in the cause +he had espoused? Nothing--simply nothing. Worse; he had thrust himself +like some clumsy, bull-headed elephant, into the girl's life, into the +midst of her troubles, without even that animal's capacity for +attaining his object by sheer might. And the result was only to +aggravate her lot; to cause Jake to hasten his plans, and add threats +to his other persecutions. And as for the raiders, they were still at +large and no nearer capture than when he had first arrived. Yes, he +told himself, he had nothing but failure to his account. And that +failure, instead of being harmlessly negative, was an aggravation of +the situation. + +But at last, miserable, overwrought, and suffering as he was, sleep +came to him; a deep sleep that carried him far into the morning. + +He had been left undisturbed by his comrades when they turned out at +daybreak. Joe had seen to this. He had put them off with an invention +of his fertile imagination which satisfied them. Then, having hurried +through his own immediate morning duties, he waited, with that +philosophic patience which he applied now in his declining years to +all the greater issues of his life, for his friend's awakening. + +And when Tresler awoke he was wonderfully refreshed. His recuperative +faculties were remarkable. The aching of his head had passed away, and +with it the deplorable hopelessness of overnight. He sat up on his +bunk, and the first object that his gaze fell upon was the patient +figure of old Joe. + +"Well--Scott! it's late. What's the time? Where are the boys? What are +you doing here?" + +He fired his questions rapidly. But Joe was not to be hurried; neither +was he going to waste precious time on unnecessary talk. So he +shrugged his shoulders and indicated the departure of the men to work +with a backward jerk of his head, and, while Tresler performed his +brief toilet, got to business in his own way. + +"Feelin' good?" he asked. + +"Fair." + +"Goin' right up to see Jake?" + +"Yes. Where is he?" + +"In his shack. Say," the old man shifted uneasily, "I've tho't a +crateful sence we wus yarnin' last night, I guess. Don't git shuvin' +Jake too close agin the wall. Give him your yarn easy. Kind o' talk +han'some by him. He's goin' to figger this thing out fer us. He'll git +givin' us a lead, mebbe, when he ain't calc'latin' to. Savee?" + +Tresler didn't answer at once; in fact, he didn't quite see the old +man's point. He completed his toilet by buckling on his belt and +revolver. Then he prepared to depart. + +"We'll see. I intend to be governed by circumstances," he said +quietly. + +"Jest so. An' circumstances has the way o' governin' most things, +anyways. Guess I'm jest astin' you to rub the corners off'n them +circumstances so they'll run smooth." + +Tresler smiled at the manner of the old man's advice, which was plain +enough this time. + +"I see. Well, so long." + +He hurried out and Joe watched him go. Then the little man rose from +his seat and went out to Teddy Jinks's kitchen on the pretense of +yarning. In reality he knew that the foreman's hut was in full view +from the kitchen window. + +Tresler walked briskly across to the hut. He never in his life felt +more ready to meet Jake than he did at this moment. He depended on the +outcome of this interview for the whole of his future course. He did +not attempt to calculate the possible result. He felt that to do so +would be to cramp his procedure. He meant to work on his knowledge of +his rival's character. Herein lay his hopes of success. It was Joe who +had given him his cue. "It's the most dangerousest thing to hit a +'rattler' till you've got him good an' riled," the little man had once +said. "Then he lifts an' it's dead easy, I guess. Hit him lyin', an' +ef you don't kill him, ther's goin' to be trouble. Them critters has a +way of thinkin' hard an' quick or'nary." And Tresler meant to deal +with Jake in a similar manner. The rest must be left to the +circumstances they had discussed. + +It so happened that Jake, too, was late abed that morning. Tresler +found him just finishing the breakfast Jinks had brought him. Jake's +surly "Come in," in response to his knock, brought him face to face +with the last man he desired to see in his hut at that moment. And +Tresler almost laughed aloud as the great man sprang from the table, +nearly overturning it in his angry haste. + +"It's all right, Jake," he said with a smile, "I come in peace." + +And the other stood for a moment eyeing him fiercely, yet not knowing +quite how to take him. Without waiting for an invitation his visitor +seated himself on the end of the bunk and stared back squarely into +the angry face. It did him good, as he remembered the events of the +night before, to thus beard this man who hated him to the point of +murder. + +He waited for Jake to reply; and while his gaze wandered over the +cruel, intolerant, overbearing face he found himself speculating as to +the caste of that which lay hidden beneath the black, coarse mat of +beard. + +At last the reply came, and he had expected no better. + +"What in h---- are you doin' here?" Jake asked brutally. Then, as an +afterthought, "Why ain't you out on the range?" + +Tresler permitted himself to lounge over on his elbow and cross his +legs with an aggravating air of ease. + +"For much the same reason that you are only just finishing your grub. +I overslept myself." + +And he watched Jake choke back the furious retort that suddenly leapt +to his lips. It was evident, even to the intolerant disposition of the +foreman, that it was no time for abuse and anger. This man had come to +him for some particular purpose, and it behooved him to keep guard on +himself. The doings of the night before were in his mind, and he +realized that it would be well to meet him coolly. Therefore, instead +of the outburst so natural to him, he contented himself with a cool +survey of his antagonist, while he put a non-committing inquiry. + +"Wal?" + +And Tresler knew that his presence was accepted, and that he had +scored the first point. At once he assumed a businesslike air. He sat +up and generally displayed a briskness quite out of keeping with his +former attitude. + +"I suppose I ought to apologize for my intrusion," he began, "but when +you have heard my story, you will understand its necessity. I had a +busy night last night." + +If he had expected any effect from this announcement he was +disappointed. Jake's face never for a moment relaxed its grim look of +attention. + +"Yes," he went on, as the foreman remained silent. "These +raiders--this Red Mask, or whatever he is called--I saw him last +night. I saw him here on this ranch." + +Jake stirred. He eyed his companion as though he would read him +through and through. + +"You saw--Red Mask--last night?" he said slowly. + +"Yes. I saw him and one of his satellites." + +"Go on." It was all the man vouchsafed, but it spoke volumes. + +And Tresler at once proceeded with his story of the midnight visit of +the masked rider and his companion. He told his story in as few words +as possible, being careful to omit nothing, and laying a slight stress +on his own rambling in the neighborhood of the house. He was very +careful to confine himself to the matter of the apparition, avoiding +all allusion to the further happenings of the night. When he had +finished, which he did without any interruption from the other, Jake +spoke with quiet appreciation. + +"An' you've brought the yarn to me. For any partic'lar reason?" + +Tresler raised his eyebrows. "Certainly," he replied. "You are foreman +of the ranch. Mr. Marbolt's interests are yours." + +"That being so, I'd like to know what you were doing around the house +at that hour of the night?" was Jake's prompt retort. + +Tresler had looked for this. He knew perfectly well that Jake did not +expect his question to be answered. Didn't particularly want it +answered. It was simply to serve a purpose. He was trying to draw him. + +"That is my affair, Jake. For the moment, at least, let us set +personalities on one side. No doubt we have accounts to settle. I may +as well say at once we are in each other's debt. But this matter I am +speaking of is of personal interest to everybody around the district." + +All the time he was speaking, Tresler was watching for the smallest +change in Jake's manner. And as he went on his appreciation of the +fellow's capability rose. He realized that Jake was, after all, +something more than a mass of beef and muscle. As no comment was +forthcoming he went on rapidly. + +"Now, last night's apparition was not altogether new to me. I saw the +same thing the first night I arrived on the ranch, but, being 'green' +at the time, it lost its significance. Now, it is different. It needs +explaining. So I have come to you. But I have not come to you without +having considered the matter as fully as it is possible for one in my +position to do. Mark me carefully. I have weighed all the details of +Red Mask's raids; considered them from all points. Time and place, +distance, the apparitions around the ranch, for those ghostly visitors +have, at times, been seen in the neighborhood by others. And all these +things so tally that they have produced a conviction in my mind that +there is a prime mover in the business to be found on this ranch." + +"An' the prime mover?" Jake's interest had in no way relaxed. He +seemed to be eager to hear everything Tresler could tell him. The +latter shrugged. + +"Who is there on this ranch that cannot at all times be accounted for? +Only one man. Anton--Black Anton." + +A pause ensued. Tresler had played a high card. If Jake refused to be +drawn it would be awkward. The pause seemed endless and he was forced +to provoke an answer. + +"Well?" he questioned sharply. + +"Well," echoed the foreman; and the other noted the quiet derision in +his tone, "seems to me you've done a deal of figgering." + +Tresler nodded. + +Jake turned away with something very like a smile. Evidently he had +decided upon the course to be pursued. Tresler, watching him, could +not quite make up his mind whether he was playing the winning hand, or +whether his opponent was finessing for the odd trick. Jake suddenly +became expansive. + +"I'd like to know how we're standin' before we go further," he said; +"though, mind you, I ain't asking. I tell you candidly I ain't got no +use for you, and I guess it would take a microscope to see your +affection for me. This bein' so, I ask myself, what has this feller +come around with his yarn to me for? I allow there's two possible +reasons which strike me as bein' of any consequence. One is that, +maybe, some'eres in the back of your head, you've a notion that I know +a heap about this racket, and sort o' wink at it, seein' Marbolt's +blind, an' draw a bit out of the game. And the other is, you're +honest, an' tryin' to play the game right. Now, I'll ask you not to +get plumb scared when I tell you I think you're dead honest about this +thing. If I didn't--wal, maybe you'd be lit out of this shack by now." + +Jake reached over to the table and picked up a plug of tobacco and +tore off a chew with his great strong teeth. And Tresler could not +help marveling at the pincher-like power with which he bit through the +plug. + +"Now, Tresler, there's that between us that can never let us be +friends. I'm goin' to get level with you some day. But just now, as +you said, we can let things bide. I say you're honest in this thing, +and if you choose to be honest with me I'll be honest with you." + +One word flashed through Tresler's brain: "finesse." + +"I'm glad you think that way, Jake," he said seriously. "My object is +to get to the bottom of this matter." + +It was a neat play in the game, the way in which these two smoothed +each other down. They accepted each other's assurances with the +suavity of practiced lawyers, each without an atom of credence or good +faith. + +"Just so," Jake responded, with a ludicrous attempt at benignity. "An' +it's due to the fact that you've been smart enough to light on the +right trail, that I'm ready to tell you something I've been holding up +from everybody, even Marbolt himself. Mind, I haven't got the dead-gut +cinch on these folk yet, though I'm right on to 'em, sure. Anton, +that's the feller. I've tracked him from the other side of the line. +His real name's 'Tough' McCulloch, an' I guess I know as much as there +is to be known of him an' his history, which is pretty rotten. He's +wanted in Alberta for murder. Not one, but half a dozen. Say, shall I +tell you what he's doin'? He rides out of here at night, an' joins a +gang of scallywag Breeds, like himself, an' they are the crowd that +have been raiding all around us. And Anton--well, I'd like to gamble +my last dollar he's the fellow wearing the Red Mask. Say, I knew he +was out last night. He was out with two of the horses. I was around. +An' at daylight I went up to the stable while he was sleepin', an' the +dog-gone fool hadn't cleaned the saddle marks from their backs. Now, +if you're feeling like bearin' a hand in lagging this black +son-of-a---- I'm with you fair an' square. We won't shake hands, for +good reasons, but your word'll go with me." + +"Nothing would suit me better." + +Tresler was struggling to fathom the man's object. + +"Good. Now we'll quietly go up to the stable. Maybe you can tell if a +horse has been recently saddled, even after grooming?" + +"Yes." + +"Then I'll show you. An' mind, Marbolt hasn't ordered one of his +private horses out. Nor ain't Miss Diane. It's Anton." + +He rose and prepared to depart, but Tresler stayed him. + +"One moment, Jake," he said. "I don't wish to give offense, but tell +me why, if you have discovered so much about Anton, have you let these +things go on so long? Think of the murder of Manson Orr, of Arizona's +wound, of the dozen and one outrages of which even I am aware." + +Jake stood silently contemplating him for a while. Nor was there any +sign of his swift anger. He smiled faintly, and again Tresler noted +the nasty tone of derision in his voice when he answered. + +"I thought maybe you'd learnt a deal out here where you find everybody +on their own. I thought you'd p'r'aps learned that it ain't wise to +raise trouble till you've got the business end of your gun pointin' +right. Can't you see there's not a cent's worth of evidence against +the man yet? Have you ever heard where he runs his cattle? Has +anybody? Has any one ever seen under that mask? Has any one been found +who could identify even his figure? No. Red Mask is a will-o'-the-wisp. +He's a ghost; and it's our business to find the body o' that ghost. +I'm not the fool to go around to Anton and say, 'You are Red Mask.' +He'd laugh in my face. An' later on I guess I'd be targettin' a shot +for him. What if I rounded to the gove'nor an' got him fired? It would +be the worst possible. Keepin' him here, and lying low, we have a +chance of puttin' him out of business. No, sir, we're dealin' with the +smartest crook west of Chicago. But I'll have him; we'll get him. I +never was bested yet. An' I'll have him, same as I get any other guy +that crosses me. Let's get on." + +They moved out of the hut. + +"It's been taking you some time, already," Tresler suggested with a +smile, as they moved across the open. + +Jake took no umbrage. His dark face responded with a sardonic grin, +and his eyes were fiercely alight. + +"Tchah!" he ejaculated impatiently. "Say, you never heard tell of a +feller gettin' his own good, an' gettin' it quick. Cattle-thieves +ain't easy handlin', an' I don't jump till I'm riled." + +Tresler made no answer, and the two reached the stable without +exchanging another word. Inside they found Anton at work, cleaning +harness. He looked up as they came in, and Tresler eyed him with a +renewed interest. And the man's face was worth studying. There was no +smile, no light in it, and even very little interest. His smooth, +tawny skin and aquiline features, his black hair and blacker eyes, in +their dark setting, had a devilish look to Tresler's imagination. He +even found himself wondering where the good looks he had observed when +they met before had vanished to. Jake nodded to him and passed into +Bessie's stall at once. + +"This is the mare, Tresler, the dandiest thing ever bred on this +ranch. Look at her points. See the coat, its color. Red roan, with +legs as black as soot. Say, she's a picture. Now I guess she'd fetch a +couple of hundred dollars away down east where you come from." + +He said all this for Anton's benefit while he smoothed his hand over +Bessie's back. Tresler followed suit, feeling for the impression of +the saddle-cloth in the hair. It was there, and he went on inspecting +the legs, with the air of a connoisseur. The other saddle-horse they +treated in the same way, but the drivers were left alone. For some +minutes they stood discussing the two animals and then passed out +again. Anton had displayed not the least interest in their doings, +although nothing had escaped his keen, swift-moving eyes. + +Once out of ear-shot Jake turned to Tresler. + +"Wal?" + +"The horses have both been saddled." + +"Good. Now we've got the thing plumb located. You heard them gassin' +at the stable. You heard 'em slam the door. You saw the two come +along. An' one of 'em must have been Anton. Leastways he must have let +'em have the hosses. I guess that's an alternative. I say Anton was up +on one of them hosses, an' the other was some gorl durned Breed mate +of his. Good. We're goin' right on to see the governor." + +"What to do?" asked Tresler. + +"To give him your yarn," Jake said shortly. + +They were half-way to the house when the foreman suddenly halted and +stared out over the lower ranch buildings at the distant pastures. +Tresler was slightly behind him as he stood, and only had a sight of +the man's profile. He did not seem to be looking at any particular +object. His attitude was one of thoughtful introspection. Tresler +waited. Things were turning out better than he had hoped, and he had +no wish but to let the arbiter of the situation take his own way. He +began to think that, whatever Jake's ulterior object might be, he was +in earnest about Anton. + +At last his companion grunted and turned, and he saw at once that the +artificial comradeship of his manner had lifted, and the "Jake" he had +already learned to understand was dominant again. He saw the vicious +setting of the brows, the fiery eyes. He quite understood that +self-control was the weakest side of this man's character, and could +not long withstand the more powerful bullying nature that swayed him. + +"I asked you a question back there," he said, jerking his head in the +direction of his hut, "an' you said it was your affair; an' we'd best +let personalities stand for the moment. I'd like an answer before we +go further. You reckon to be honest, I guess. Wal, now's your chance. +Tell me to my face what I've learned for myself. What were you doin' +round here last night? What were you doin' in Marbolt's kitchen?" + +Tresler understood the motive of the man's insistence now. Jake was +showing him a side of his character he had hardly suspected. It was +the human nature in the man asking for a confirmation of his worst +fears, in reality his worst knowledge. For he was well aware that Jake +had witnessed the scene in the kitchen. + +"As I said before, it is my affair," he responded, with an assumption +of indifference. "Still, since you insist, you may as well know first +as last. I went to see Miss Diane. I saw her----" + +"An'?" There was a tense restraint in the monosyllable. + +Tresler shrugged. "Miss Marbolt is my promised wife." + +There was a deathly silence after his announcement. Tresler looked out +over the ranch. He seemed to see everything about him at once; even +Jake was in the strained focus, although he was not looking at him. +His nerves were strung, and seemed as though they were held in a vice. +He thought he could even hear the sound of his own temples beating. He +had no fear, but he was expectant. + +Then Jake broke the silence, and his voice, though harsh, was low; it +was muffled with a throatiness caused by the passion that moved him. + +"You'll never marry that gal," he said. + +And Tresler was round on him in an instant, and his face was alight +with a cold smile. + +"I will," he said. + +And then Jake moved on with something very like a rush. And Tresler +followed. His smile was still upon his face. But it was there of its +own accord, a nervous mask which had nothing to do with the thoughts +passing behind it. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A PORTENTOUS INTERVIEW + + +Tresler was in no way blind to the quality of the armistice that had +been arranged between himself and Jake. He knew full well that that +peaceful interim would be used by Jake to raise earthworks of the +earthiest kind, and to train his guns with deadly accuracy upon his +enemy. Well, so he wanted. His purpose was to draw his adversary's +fire directly upon himself. As he had said, to do anything to help the +girl he loved, he must himself be in the fighting line. And from the +moment of his doubtful compact with Jake he felt that he was not only +in the fighting line, but that, if all he had heard on the subject of +Red Mask was true, he would become the centre of attack. There was a +pleasant feeling of excitement and uncertainty in his position, and he +followed Jake all the more eagerly to the presence of the rancher, +only wondering in what manner the forthcoming interview was to affect +matters. + +Julian Marbolt had not left his bedroom when they arrived at the +house. Diane, looking a little anxious when she saw these two +together, showed them into her father's office. She was half disposed +to refuse Jake's request that she should summon the blind man, but a +smiling nod from Tresler decided her. + +"Very well, Jake," she replied coldly. "You won't best please father +unless the matter is important." This was said merely to conceal her +real knowledge of the object of the visit. + +If Jake understood he gave no sign. But he had seen and resented the +silent assurance Tresler had given her. His angry eyes watched her as +she went off; and as she disappeared he turned to his companion, who +had seated himself by the window. + +"Guess you ain't figgered on the 'old man' 'bout her?" he said. + +"That, I think, is strictly my affair," Tresler replied coldly. + +Jake laughed, and sat down near the door. The answer had no effect on +him. + +"Say, I guess you ain't never had a cyclone hit you?" he asked +maliciously. "It'll be interestin' to see when you tell him. +Maybe----" + +Whatever he was about to say was cut short by the approach of the +rancher. And it was wonderful the change that came over the man as he +sat listening to the tap-tap of the blind man's stick in the passage. +He watched the door uneasily, and there was a short breathless +attention about him. Tresler, watching, could not help thinking of the +approach of some Eastern potentate, with his waiting courtiers and +subjects rubbing their faces in the dust lest his wrath should be +visited upon them. He admitted that Jake's attitude just now was his +true one. + +At the door Julian Marbolt stood for a moment, doing by means of his +wonderful hearing what his eyes failed to do for him. And the marvel +of it was that he faced accurately, first toward Tresler, then toward +Jake. He stood like some tall, ascetic, gray-headed priest, garbed in +a dressing-gown that needed but little imagination to convert into a +cassock. And the picture of benevolence he made was only marred by the +staring of his dreadful eyes. + +"Well, Jake?" he said, in subdued, gentle tones. "What trouble has +brought you round here at this hour?" + +"Trouble enough," Jake responded, with a slight laugh. "Tresler here +brings it, though." + +The blind man turned toward the window and instinctively focussed the +younger man, and somehow Tresler shivered as with a cold draught when +the sightless eyes fixed themselves upon him. + +"Ah, you Tresler. Well, we'll hear all about it." Marbolt moved +slowly, though without the aid of his stick now, over to the table, +and seated himself. + +"It's the old trouble," said Jake, when his master had settled +himself. "The cattle 'duffers.' They're gettin' busy--busy around this +ranch again." + +"Well?" Marbolt turned to Tresler; his action was a decided snub to +Jake. + +Tresler took his cue and began his story. He told it almost exactly as +he had told it to Jake, but with one slight difference: he gave no +undue emphasis to his presence in the vicinity of the house. And +Marbolt listened closely, the frowning brows bespeaking his +concentration, and his unmoving eyes his fixed attention. He listened +apparently unmoved to every detail, and displayed a wonderful +patience while Tresler went point for point over his arguments in +favor of his suspicions of Anton. Once only he permitted his sightless +glance to pass in Jake's direction, and that was at the linking of the +foreman's name with Tresler's suspicions. As his story came to an end +the blind man rested one elbow on the table, and propped his chin upon +his hand. The other hand coming into contact with a ruler lying +adjacent, he picked it up and thoughtfully tapped the table, while the +two men waited for him to speak. + +At last he turned toward his foreman, and, with an impressive gesture, +indicated Tresler. + +"This story is nothing new to us, Jake," he said. Then for a moment +his voice dropped, and took on a pained tone. "I only wish it were; +then we could afford to laugh at it. No, there can be no laughing +here. Past experience has taught us that. It is a matter of the +greatest seriousness--danger. So much for the main features. But there +are side issues, suspicions you have formed," turning back to Tresler, +"which I cannot altogether accept. Mind, I do not say flatly that you +are wrong, but I cannot accept them without question. + +"Jake here has had suspicions of Anton. I know that, though he has +never asserted them to me in so direct a fashion as apparently he has +to you." He paused: then he went on in an introspective manner. "I am +getting on in years. I have already had a good innings right here on +this ranch. I have watched the country develop. I have seen the +settlers come, sow the seeds of their homesteads and small ranches, +and watched the crop grow. I have rented them grazing. I have sold +them stock. I have made money, and they have made money, and the +country has prospered. It is good to see these things; good for me, +especially, for I was the first here. I have been lord of the land, +and Jake my lieutenant. The old Indian days have gone, and I have +looked for nothing but peace and prosperity. I wanted prosperity, for +I admit I love it. I am a business man, and I do everything in +connection with this ranch on a sound business basis. Not like many of +those about me. In short, I am here to make money. And why not? I own +the land." + +The last was said as though in argument. Tresler could not help being +struck by the manner in which he alluded to the making of money. There +was an air of the miser about him when he spoke of it, a hardness +about the mouth which the close-trimmed beard made no pretense of +concealing. And there was a world of arrogance in the way he said, "I +own the land." However, he was given no time for further observation, +for Marbolt seemed to realize his own digression and came back +abruptly to the object of his discourse. + +"Then this spectre, Red Mask, comes along. He moves with the mystery +of the Wandering Jew, and, like that imaginary person, scourges the +country wherever he goes, only in a different manner. Anton had been +with me three years when this raider appeared. Since then there have +been no less than twenty-eight robberies, accompanied more or less by +manslaughter." He became more animated and leaned forward in his +chair, pointing the ruler he still held in his hand at Tresler as he +named the figures. His red eyes seemed to stare harder and his heavy +brows to knit more closely across his forehead. "Yes," he reiterated, +"twenty-eight robberies. And I, with others, have estimated the number +and value of stock that has been lost to this scoundrel. In round +figures five thousand head of cattle, one hundred and fifty thousand +dollars, whisked away, spirited out of this district alone in the +course of a few years. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars; one +hundred and fifty thousand," he mouthed the words as though he +delighted in the sound of so large a sum of money. Then his whole +manner changed. A fiend could not have looked more vicious. "And in +all I have lost five hundred beeves to him. Five hundred," he cried, +his voice high-pitched in his anger, "fifteen thousand dollars, +besides horses, and--and some of my men wounded, even killed." + +Again he ceased speaking, and relapsed into a brooding attitude. And +the two men watched him. His personality fascinated Tresler. He even +began to understand something of the general fear he inspired. He +thought of Jake who had been so many years with him, and he thought he +understood something of the condition he must inspire in any one of no +great moral strength who remained with him long. Then he thought of +Diane, and moved uneasily. He remembered Jake's allusion to a cyclone. + +At Tresler's movement the blind man roused at once and proceeded with +his story. + +"And he roams this country at large, unchecked, unopposed. Working his +will whithersoever he fancies, unseen, unknown but for his sobriquet. +And you claim he and Anton are one. This great man--for in his way he +is great, head and shoulders above all other criminals, by reason of +the extent of his exploits. Pshaw!"--his tone was scoffing--"let me +tell you, on three different nights when this monster was abroad, +carrying destruction in his path, Anton was driving me. Or, at least, +was with me, having driven me into Forks on one occasion, and twice in +the neighborhood of Whitewater. No, I am aware that Anton is a +black-leg, or has been one, but he has served me well and truly since +he has been my servant. As for the saddle-marks," he leaned back in +his chair and his gentle smile returned slowly to his face. "No, no, +Tresler, that is insufficient. Remember, Anton is a Breed, a young +man, and, as Breeds go, good-looking. There is a Breed camp in the +neighborhood where they indulge in all the puskies and orgies native +to them. We must question him. I expect he has taken French leave with +my horses." + +"But you forget the Breed camp has gone," put in Jake quickly. "Since +the comin' of the sheriff and his men to Forks they've cleared out, +and, as yet, we ain't located 'em. I expect it's the hills." + +"Just so, Jake," replied Marbolt, turning to the foreman coldly. "I +forgot that you told me of it before. But that makes little +difference. I have no doubt Anton knows where they are. Now," he went +on, turning again to Tresler, "I hold no brief for Anton in +particular. If I thought for a moment it were so," a sudden storm of +vindictiveness leapt into his tone, "I would hound him down, and be +near while they hung him slowly to death on one of our own trees. I +would willingly stand by while he was put to the worst possible +tortures, and revel in his cries of agony. Don't mistake me. If you +could prove Anton to be the rascal, he should die, whatever the +consequences. We would wait for no law. But you are all on the wrong +trail, I feel sure." + +He had dropped back into his old soft-spoken manner, and Tresler felt +like hating him for the vileness of the nature he displayed. + +"You plead well for Anton, Mr. Marbolt," he could not help saying, +"but after what I heard last night, I cannot believe he is not in +league with these people." + +It was an unfortunate remark, and brought the biting answer that might +have been expected. + +"I plead for no man, Tresler. Most certainly not for a Breed. I show +you where you are wrong. Your inexperience is lamentable, but you +cannot help it." He paused, but went on again almost at once. "Since I +cannot persuade you, go with your story to the sheriff. Let him judge +of your evidence, and if a man of Fyles's undoubted skill and +shrewdness acts upon it, I'll pay you one hundred dollars." + +Tresler saw the force of the other's reply, but resented the tone, +while he still remained utterly unconvinced of Anton's innocence. +Perhaps the blind man realized his unnecessary harshness, for he +quickly veered round again to his low-voiced benignity. And Jake, +interested but silent, sat watching his master with an inscrutable +look in his bold eyes and a half smile on his hard face. + +"No, Tresler," he said, "we can set all that part of it on one side. +You did quite right to come to me, though," he added hastily; "I thank +you heartily. From past experience we have learned that your +apparition means mischief. It means that a raiding expedition is +afoot. Maybe it was committed last night. I suppose," turning to Jake, +"you have not heard?" + +"No." Jake shook his head. + +"Well, we are forewarned, thanks to you, Tresler," the other went on +gravely. "And it shan't be my fault if we are not forearmed. We must +send a warning round to the nearest homesteads. I really don't know +what will happen if this goes on much longer." + +"Why not take concerted action? Why not resort to what was recently +suggested--a vigilance party?" Tresler put in quickly. + +The other shook his head and turned to Jake for support. But none was +forthcoming. Jake was watching that strong sightless face, gazing into +it with a look of bitter hatred and sinister intentness. This change +so astonished Tresler that he paid no attention to the rancher's +reply. + +And at once Marbolt's peculiar instinct asserted itself. He faced from +one to the other with a perplexed frown, and as his red eyes fell +finally upon the foreman, that individual's whole expression was +instantly transformed to one of confusion. And Tresler could not help +calling to mind the schoolboy detected in some misdemeanor. At first +the confusion, then the attempt at bland innocence, followed by dogged +sullenness. It was evident that Jake's conscience blinded him to the +fact of the other's sightless gaze. + +"What say you, Jake? We can only leave it to the sheriff and be on our +guard." + +The foreman fumbled out his reply almost too eagerly. + +"Yes," he said, "sure; we must be on our guard. Guess we'd better send +out night guards to the different stations." He stretched himself with +an assumption of ease. Then suddenly he sat bolt upright and a +peculiar expression came into his eyes. Tresler detected the half +smile and the side glance in his own direction. "Yes," he went on, +composedly enough now, "partic'larly Willow Bluff." + +"Why Willow Bluff?" asked the rancher, with some perplexity. + +"Why? Why? Because we're waitin' to ship them two hundred beeves to +the coast. They're sold, you remember, an' ther's only them two +Breeds, Jim an' Lag Henderson, in charge of 'em. Why, it 'ud be pie, a +dead soft snap fer Red Mask's gang. An' the station's that lonesome. +All o' twenty mile from here." + +Julian Marbolt sat thinking for a moment. "Yes, you're right," he +agreed at last. "We'll send out extra night guards. And you'd best +detail two good, reliable men for a few days at Willow Bluff. Only +thoroughly reliable men, mind. You see to it." + +Jake turned to Tresler at once, his face beaming with a malicious +grin. And the latter understood. But he was not prepared for the +skilful trap which his archenemy was baiting for him, and into which +he was to promptly fall. + +"How'd it suit you, Tresler?" he asked. Then without waiting for a +reply he went on, "But ther', I guess it wouldn't do sendin' you. You +ain't the sort to get scrappin' hoss thieves. It wants grit. It's +tough work an' needs tough men. Pshaw!" + +Tresler's blood was up in a moment. He forgot discretion and +everything else under the taunt. + +"I don't know that it wouldn't do, Jake," he retorted promptly. "It +seems to me your remarks come badly from a man who has reason to +know--to remember--that I am capable of holding my own with most men, +even those big enough to eat me." + +He saw his blunder even while he was speaking. But he was red-hot with +indignation and didn't care a jot for the consequences. And Jake came +at him. If the foreman's taunt had roused him, it was nothing to the +effect of his reply. Jake crossed the room in a couple of strides and +his furious face was thrust close into Tresler's, and, in a voice +hoarse with passion, he fairly gasped at him-- + +"I ain't fergot. An' by G----" + +But he got no further. A movement on the part of the rancher +interrupted him. Before he realized what was happening the blind man +was at his side with a grip on his arm that made him wince. + +"Stop it!" he cried fiercely. "Stop it, you fool! Another word and, +blind as I am, I'll----" Jake struggled to release himself, but +Marbolt held him with almost superhuman strength and slowly backed him +from his intended victim. "Back! Do you hear? I'll have no murder done +in here--unless I do it myself. Get back--back, blast you!" And Jake +was slowly, in spite of his continued struggles, thrust against the +wall. And then, as he still resisted, Marbolt pushed the muzzle of a +revolver against his face. "I'll drop you like a hog, if you +don't----" + +But the compelling weapon had instant effect, and the foreman's +resistance died out weakly. + +The whole scene had occurred so swiftly that Tresler simply stood +aghast. The agility, the wonderful sureness and rapidity of movement +on Marbolt's part were staggering. The whole thing seemed impossible, +and yet he had seen it; and the meaning of the stories of this man he +had listened to came home to him. He was, indeed, something to fear. +The great bullying Jake was a child in his hands. Now like a whipped +child, he stood with his back to the wall, a picture of hate and fury. + +With Jake silenced Marbolt turned on him. His words were few but +sufficient. + +"And as for you, Tresler," he said coldly, "keep that tongue of yours +easy. I am master here." + +There was a brief silence, then the rancher returned to the subject +that had caused the struggle. + +"Well, what about the men for Willow Bluff, Jake?" + +It was Tresler who answered the question, and without a moment's +hesitation. + +"I should like to go out there, Mr. Marbolt. Especially if there's +likely to be trouble." + +It was the only position possible for him after what had gone before, +and he knew it. He glanced at Jake and saw that, for the moment at +least, his hatred for his employer had been set aside. He was smiling +a sort of tigerish smile. + +"Very well, Tresler," responded the rancher. "And you can choose your +own companion. You can go and get ready. Jake," turning to the other, +"I want to talk to you." + +Tresler went out, feeling that he had made a mess of things. He gave +Jake credit for his cleverness, quite appreciating the undying hate +that prompted it. But the thing that was most prominent in his +thoughts was the display the blind man had given him. He smiled when +he thought of Jake's boasted threats to Diane; how impotent they +seemed now. But the smile died out when he remembered he, himself, had +yet to face the rancher on the delicate subject of his daughter. He +remembered only too well Jake's reference to a cyclone, and he made +his way to the bunkhouse with no very enlivening thoughts. + +In the meantime the two men he had just left remained silent until the +sound of his footsteps had quite died out. Then Marbolt spoke. + +"Jake, you are a damned idiot!" he said abruptly. + +The foreman made no answer and the other went on. + +"Why can't you leave the boy alone? He's harmless; besides he's useful +to me--to us." + +"Harmless--useful?" Jake laughed bitterly. "Pshaw, I guess your +blindness is gettin' round your brains!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean it 'ud have been better if you'd let me--wipe him out. Better +for us--for you." + +"I don't see; you forget his money." The blind man's tone was very +low. "You forget he intends to buy a ranch and stock. You forget that +he has twenty-five thousand dollars to expend. Bah! I'll never make a +business man of you." + +"And what about your girl?" Jake asked, quite unmoved by the other's +explanation. + +"My girl?" Marbolt laughed softly. "You are always harping on that. He +will leave my girl alone. She knows my wishes, and will--shall obey +me. I don't care a curse about him or his affairs. But I want his +money, and if you will only see to your diabolical temper, I'll--we'll +have it. Your share stands good in this as in all other deals." + +It was the foreman's turn to laugh. But there was no mirth in it. It +stopped as suddenly as it began, cut off short. + +"He will leave your girl alone, will he?" he said, with a sneer. "Say, +d'you know what he was doin' around this house last night when he saw +those hoss-thief guys, or shall I tell you?" + +"You'd better tell me," replied the rancher, coldly. + +"He was after your girl. Say, an' what's more, he saw her. An' what's +still more, she's promised to be his wife. He told me." + +"What's that? Say it again." There was an ominous calmness in the +blind man's manner. + +"I said he was after your girl, saw her, and +she's--promised--to--be--his--wife." + +"Ah!" + +Then there was a silence for some minutes. The red eyes were frowning +in the direction of the window. At last the man drew a deep breath, +and Jake, watching him, wondered what was coming. + +"I'll see her," he said slowly, "and I'll see him--after he comes back +from Willow Bluff." + +That was all, but Jake, accustomed to Julian Marbolt's every mood, +read a deal more than the words expressed. He waited for what else +might be coming, but only received a curt dismissal in tones so sharp +that he hurried out of the room precipitately. + +Once clear of the verandah he walked more slowly, and his eyes turned +in the direction of the bunkhouse. All the old hatred was stirred +within him as he saw Tresler turn the angle of the building and +disappear within its doorway. + +"Guess no one's goin' to see you--after Willow Bluff," he muttered. +"No one." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +AT WILLOW BLUFF + + +Tresler would have liked to see Diane before going out to Willow +Bluff, but reflection showed him how impossible that would be; at +least, how much unnecessary risk it would involve for her. After what +he had just witnessed of her father, it behooved him to do nothing +rashly as far as she was concerned, so he turned his whole attention +to his preparations for departure. + +He had made up his mind as to his comrade without a second thought. +Arizona was his man, and he sent the diplomatic Joe out to bring him +in from Pine Creek sloughs, where he was cutting late hay for winter +stores. + +In about half an hour the American came in, all curiosity and +eagerness; nor would he be satisfied until he had been told the whole +details of the matter that had led up to the appointment. Tresler kept +back nothing but his private affairs relating to Diane. At the +conclusion of the recital, Arizona's rising temper culminated in an +explosion. + +"Say, that feller Jake's a meaner pirate an' cus as 'ud thieve the +supper from a blind dawg an' then lick hell out o' him 'cos he can't +see." Which outburst of feeling having satisfied the necessity of the +moment, he became practical. "An' you're goin', you an' me?" he asked +incredulously. + +"That's the idea, Arizona; but of course you're quite free to please +yourself. I chose you; Marbolt gave me the privilege of selection." + +"Wal, guess we'd best git goin'. Willow Bluff station's fair to +decent, so we'll only need our blankets an' grub--an' a tidy bunch of +ammunition. Guess I'll go an' see Teddy fer the rations." + +He went off in a hurry. Tresler looked after him. It was good to be +dealing with such a man after those others, Jake and the rancher. +Arizona's manner of accepting his selection pleased him. There was no +"yes" or "no" about it: no argument. A silent acceptance and ready +thought for their needs. A thorough old campaigner. A man to be relied +on in emergency--a man to be appreciated. + +In two hours everything was in readiness, Tresler contenting himself +with a reassuring message to Diane through the medium of Joe. + +They rode off. Jezebel was on her good behavior, and Arizona's mount +kept up with her fast walk by means of his cowhorse amble. As they +came to the ford, Tresler drew up and dismounted, and the other +watched him while he produced a wicker-covered glass flask from his +pocket. + +"What's that?" he asked. "Rye?" + +Tresler shook his head, and tried the metal screw cap. + +"No," he replied shortly. + +Then he leant over the water and carefully set the bottle floating, +pushing it out as far as possible with his foot while he supported +himself by the overhanging bough of a tree. Then he stood watching it +carried slowly amid-stream. Presently the improvised craft darted out +with a rush into the current, and swept onward with the main flow of +the water. Then he returned and remounted his impatient mare. + +"That," he said, as they rode on, "is a message. Fyles's men are down +the river spying out the land, and, incidentally, waiting to hear from +me. The message I've sent them is a request for assistance at Willow +Bluff. I have given them sound reason, which Fyles will understand." + +Arizona displayed considerable astonishment, which found expression in +a deprecating avowal. + +"Say, I guess I'm too much o' the old hand. I didn't jest think o' +that." + +It was all he vouchsafed, but it said a great deal. And the thin face +and wild eyes said more. + +Now they rode on in silence, while they followed the wood-lined trail +along the river. The shade was delightful, and the trail sufficiently +sandy to muffle the sound of the horses' hoofs and so leave the +silence unbroken. There was a faint hum from the insects that haunted +the river, but it was drowsy, soft, and only emphasized the perfect +sylvan solitude. After a while the trail left the river and gently +inclined up to the prairie level. Then the bush broke and became +scattered into small bluffs, and a sniff of the bracing air of the +plains brushed away the last odor of the redolent glades they were +leaving. + +It was here that Arizona roused himself. He was of the prairie, +belonging to the prairie. The woodlands depressed him, but the prairie +made him expansive. + +"Seems to me, Tresler, you're kind o' takin' a heap o' chances--mostly +onnes'ary. Meanin' ther' ain't no more reason to it than whistlin' +Methody hymns to a deaf mule. Can't see why you're mussin' y'self up +wi' these all-fired hoss thieves. You're askin' fer a sight more'n you +ken eat." + +"And, like all men of such condition, I shall probably eat to +repletion, I suppose you mean." + +Arizona turned a doubtful eye on the speaker, and quietly spat over +his horse's shoulder. + +"Guess your langwidge ain't mine," he said thoughtfully; "but if +you're meanin' you're goin' to git your belly full, I calc'late you're +li'ble to git like a crop-bound rooster wi' the moult 'fore you're +through. An' I sez, why?" + +Tresler shrugged. "Why does a man do anything?" he asked +indifferently. + +"Gener'ly fer one of two reasons. Guess it's drink or wimmin." Again +he shot a speculating glance at his friend, and, as Tresler displayed +more interest in the distant view than in his remarks, he went on. "I +ain't heerd tell as you wus death on the bottle." + +The object of his solicitude smiled round on him. + +"Perhaps you think me a fool. But I just can't stand by seeing things +going wrong in a way that threatens to swamp one poor, lonely girl, +whose only protection is her blind father." + +"Then it is wimmin?" + +"If you like." + +"But I don't jest see wher' them hoss thieves figger." + +"Perhaps you don't, but believe me they do--indirectly." Tresler +paused. Then he went on briskly. "There's no need to go into details +about it, but--but I want to run into this gang. Do you know why? +Because I want to find out who this Red Mask is. It is on his +personality depends the possibility of my helping the one soul on this +ranch who deserves nothing but tender kindness at the hands of those +about her." + +"A-men," Arizona added in the manner he had acquired in his "religion" +days. + +"I must set her free of Jake--somehow." + +Arizona's eyes flashed round on him quickly. "Jest so," he observed +complainingly. "That's how I wanted to do last night." + +"And you'd have upset everything." + +"Wrong--plumb wrong." + +"Perhaps so," Tresler smiled confidently. "We are all liable to +mistakes." + +Arizona's dissatisfied grunt was unmistakable. "Thet's jest how that +sassafras-colored, bull-beef Joe Nelson got argyfyin' when Jake come +around an' located him sleepin' off the night before in the hog-pen. +But it don't go no more'n his did, I guess. Howsum, it's wimmin. Say, +Tresler," the lean figure leant over toward him, and the wild eyes +looked earnestly into his--"it's right, then--dead right?" + +"When I've settled with her father--and Jake." + +Arizona held out his horny, claw-like hand. "Shake," he said. "I'm +glad, real glad." + +They gripped for a moment, then the cowpuncher turned away, and sat +staring out over the prairie. Tresler, watching him, wondered at that +long abstraction. The man's face had a softened look. + +"We all fall victims to it sooner or later, Arizona," he ventured +presently. "It comes once in a man's lifetime, and it comes for good +or ill." + +"Twice--me." + +The hard fact nipped Tresler's sentimental mood in the bud. + +"Ah!" + +The other continued his study of the sky-line. "Yup," he said at last. +"One died, an' t'other didn't hatch out." + +"I see." + +It was no use attempting sympathy. When Arizona spoke of himself, when +he chose to confide his life's troubles to any one, he had a way of +stating simple facts merely as facts; he spoke of them because it +suited his pessimistic mood. + +"Yup. The first was kind o' fady, anyways--sort o' limp in the +backbone. Guess I'd got fixed wi' her 'fore I knew a heap. Must 'a' +bin. Yup, she wus fancy in her notions. Hated sharin' a pannikin o' +tea wi' a friend; guess I see her scrape out a fry-pan oncet. I 'lows +she had cranks. Guess she hadn't a pile o' brain, neither. She never +could locate a hog from a sow, an' as fer stridin' a hoss, hell itself +couldn't 'a' per-suaded her. She'd a notion fer settin' sideways, an' +allus got muleish when you guessed she wus wrong. Yup, she wus red-hot +on the mission sociables an' eatin' off'n chiny, an' wa'n't satisfied +wi' noospaper on the table; an' took the notion she'd got pimples, an' +worried hell out o' her old man till he bo't a razor an' turned his +features into a patch o' fall ploughin', an' kind o' bulldozed her +mother into lashin' her stummick wi' some noofangled fixin' as +wouldn't meet round her nowheres noways. An' she wus kind o' finnicky +wi' her own feedin', too. Guess some wall-eyed cuss had took her into +Sacramento an' give her a feed at one of them Dago joints, wher' they +disguise most everythin' wi' langwidge, an' ile, an' garlic, till you +hate yourself. Wal, she died. Mebbe she's got all them things handy +now. But I ain't sayin' nothin' mean about her; she jest had her +notions. Guess it come from her mother. I 'lows she wus kind o' struck +on fool things an' fixin's. Can't blame her noways. Guess I wus mostly +sudden them days. Luv ut fust sight is a real good thing when it comes +to savin' labor, but like all labor-savin' fixin's, it's liable to git +rattled some, an' then ther' ain't no calc'latin' what's goin' to +bust." + +Arizona's manner was very hopeless, but presently he cheered up +visibly and renewed his wad of chewing. + +"T'other wus kind o' slower in comin' along," he went on, in his +reflective drawl. "But when it got around it wus good an' strong, +sure. Y' see, ther' wus a deal 'tween us like to make us friendly. She +made hash fer the round-up, which I 'lows, when the lady's young, +she's most gener'ly an objec' of 'fection fer the boys. Guess she wus +most every kind of a gal, wi' her ha'r the color of a field of wheat +ready fer the binder, an' her figger as del'cate as one o' them crazy +egg-bilers, an' her pretty face all sparklin' wi' smiles an' +hoss-soap, an' her eye! Gee! but she had an eye. Guess she would 'a' +made a prairie-rose hate itself. But that wus 'fore we hooked up in a +team. I 'lows marryin's a mighty bad finish to courtin'." + +"You were married?" + +"Am." + +A silence fell. The horses ambled on in the fresh noonday air. +Arizona's look was forbidding. Suddenly he turned and gazed fiercely +into his friend's face. + +"Yes, sirree. An' it's my 'pinion, in spite of wot some folks sez, +gettin' married's most like makin' butter. Courtin's the cream, good +an' thick an' juicy, an' you ken lay it on thick, an' you kind o' +wonder how them buzzocky old cows got the savee to perduce sech a +daisy liquid. But after the turnin'-point, which is marryin', it's +diff'rent some. 'Tain't cream no longer. It's butter, an' you need to +use it sort o' mean. That's how I found, I guess." + +"I suppose you settled down, and things went all right, though?" +suggested Tresler. + +"Wal, maybe that's so. Guess if anythin' wus wrong it wus me. Yer see, +ther' ain't a heap o' fellers rightly understands females. I'm most +gener'ly patient. Knowin' their weakness, I sez, 'Arizona, you're mud +when wimmin gits around. You bein' married, it's your dooty to boost +the gal along.' So I jest let her set around an' shovel orders as +though I wus the hired man. Say, guess you never had a gal shovelin' +orders. It's real sweet to hear 'em, an' I figger they knows their +bizness mostly. It makes you feel as though you'd ha'f a dozen hands +an' they wus all gropin' to git to work. That's how I felt, anyways. +Every mornin' she'd per-suade me gentle out o' bed 'fore daylight, an' +I'd feel like a hog fer sleepin' late. Then she'd shovel the orders +hansum, in a voice that 'ud shame molasses. It wus allus 'dear' or +'darlin'.' Fust haul water, then buck wood, light the stove, feed the +hogs an' chick'ns, dung out the ol' cow, fill the lamp, rub down the +mare, pick up the kitchen, set the clothes bilin', cook the vittles, +an' do a bit o' washin' while she turned over fer five minits. Then +she'd git around, mostly 'bout noon, wi' her shower o' ha'r trailin' +like a rain o' gold-dust, an' a natty sort o' silk fixin' which she +called a 'dressin'-gown,' an' she'd sot right down an' eat the +vittles, tellin' me o' things she wanted done as she'd fergot. Ther' +wus the hen-roost wanted limin', she was sure the chick'ns had the +bugs, an' the ol' mare's harness wanted fixin', so she could drive +into town; an' the buckboard wanted washin', an' the wheels greasin'. +An' the seat wus kind o' hard an' wanted packin' wi' a pillar. Then +ther' wus the p'tater patch wanted hoein', an' the cabb'ges. An' the +hay-mower wus to be got ready fer hayin'. She mostly drove that +herself, an' I 'lows I wus glad." + +Arizona paused and took a fresh chew. Then he went on. + +"Guess you ain't never got hitched?" + +Tresler denied the impeachment. "Not yet," he said. + +"Hah! Guess it makes a heap o' diff'rence." + +"Yes, I suppose so. Sobers a fellow. Makes him feel like settling +down." + +"Wal, maybe." + +"And where's your wife living now?" Tresler asked, after another +pause. + +"Can't rightly say." There was a nasty sharpness in the manner Arizona +jerked his answer out. "Y' see, it's this a-ways. I guess I didn't +amount to a deal as a married man. Leastways, that's how she got +figgerin' after a whiles. Guess I'd sp'iled her life some. I 'lows I +wus allus a mean cuss. An' she wus real happy bakin' hash. Guess I +druv her to drinkin' at the s'loon, too, which made me hate myself +wuss. Wal, I jest did wot I could to smooth things an' kep goin'. I +got punchin' cows agin, an' give her every cent o' my wages; but it +wa'n't to be." The man's voice was husky, and he paused to recover +himself. And then hurried on as though to get the story over as soon +as possible. "Guess I wus out on the 'round-up' some weeks, an' then I +come back to find her gone--plumb gone. Mebbe she'd got lonesome; I +can't say. Yup, the shack wus empty, an' the buckboard gone, an' the +blankets, an' most o' the cookin' fixin's. It wus the neighbors put me +wise. Neighbors mostly puts you wise. They acted friendly. Ther'd bin +a feller come 'long from Alberta, a pretty tough Breed feller. He went +by the name o' 'Tough' McCulloch." + +Tresler started. But Arizona was still staring out at the distant +prairie, and the movement escaped him. + +"Guess he'd bin around the shack a heap," he went on, "an' the day +'fore I got back the two of 'em had drove out wi' the buckboard +loaded, takin' the trail fer the hills. I put after 'em, but never +found a trace. I 'lows the feller had guts. He left a message on the +table. It wus one o' his guns--loaded. Likely you won't understan', +but I kep' that message. I ain't see her sence. I did hear tell she +wus bakin' hash agin. I 'lows she could bake hash. Say, Tresler, I've +lost hogs, an' I've lost cows, but I'm guessin' ther' ain't nothin' in +the world meaner than losin' yer wife." + +Tresler made no reply. What could he say? "Tough" McCulloch! the name +rang in his ears. It was the name Anton had been known by in Canada. +He tried to think what he ought to do. Should he tell Arizona? No. He +dared not. Murder would promptly be done, if he knew anything of the +American. No doubt the Breed deserved anything, but there was enough +savagery at Mosquito Bend without adding to it. Suddenly another +thought occurred to him. + +"Did you know the man?" he asked. + +"Never set eyes on him. But I guess I shall some day." And Tresler's +decision was irrevocably confirmed. + +"And the 'gun' message?" + +"Wal, it's a way they have in Texas," replied Arizona. "A loaded gun +is a mean sort o' challenge. It's a challenge which ain't fer the +present zacly. Guess it holds good fer life. Et means 'on sight.'" + +"I understand." + +And the rest of the journey to Willow Bluff was made almost in +silence. + +The wonderful extent of the blind man's domain now became apparent. +They had traveled twenty miles almost as the crow flies, and yet they +had not reached its confines. As Arizona said, in response to a +remark from his companion, "The sky-line ain't no limit fer the blind +hulk's land." + +Willow Bluff was, as its name described, just a big bluff of woodland +standing at the confluence of two rivers. To the south and west it was +open prairie. The place consisted of a small shack, and a group of +large pine-log corrals capable of housing a thousand head of stock. +And as the men came up they saw, scattered over the adjacent prairie, +the peacefully grazing beeves which were to be their charge. + +"A pretty bunch," observed Arizona. + +"Yes, and a pretty place for a raid." + +At that moment the doings of the raiders were uppermost in Tresler's +mind. + +Then they proceeded to take possession. They found Jim Henderson, a +mean looking Breed boy, in the shack, and promptly set him to work to +clean it out. It was not a bad place, but the boys had let it get into +a filthy condition, in the customary manner of all half-breeds. +However, this they quickly remedied, and Tresler saw quite a decent +prospect of comfort for their stay there. + +Arizona said very little while there was work to be done. And his +companion was astonished, even though he knew him so well, at his +capacity and forethought. Evening was the most important time, and +here the cattleman stood out a master of his craft. The beeves had to +be corralled every night. There must be no chance of straying, since +they were sold, and liable for transport at any moment. This work, and +the task of counting, demanded all the cattleman's skill. Bands of +fifty were rounded up, cut out from the rest, and quietly brought in. +When each corral was filled, and the whole herd accommodated for the +night, a supply of fresh young hay was thrown to them to keep them +occupied during their few remaining hours of waking. Arizona was a +giant at the work; and to see his lithe, lean body swaying this way +and that, as he swung his well-trained pony around the ambling herd, +his arms and "rope" and voice at work, was to understand something of +the wild life that claimed him, and the wild, untrained nature which +was his. + +The last corral was fastened up, and then, but not until then, the two +friends took leisure. + +"Wal," said Arizona, as they stood leaning against the bars of the +biggest corral, "guess ther's goin' to be a night-guard?" + +"Yes. These boys are smart enough lads, it seems. We'll let them take +two hours about up to midnight You and I will do the rest." + +"An' the hull lot of us'll sleep round the corrals?" + +"That's it." + +"An' the hosses?" + +"We'll keep them saddled." + +"An' the sheriff's fellers?" + +"That I can't say. We're not likely to see them, anyway." + +And so the plans were arranged, simple, even hopeless in construction. +Two men, for they could not depend on the half-breeds, to face +possibly any odds should the raider choose this spot for attack. But +however inadequate the guard, there was something morally strong in +the calm, natural manner of its arranging. These two knew that in case +of trouble they had only themselves to depend on. Yet neither +hesitated, or balked at the undertaking. Possibilities never entered +into their calculations. + +The first and second night produced no alarm. Nor did they receive any +news of a disturbing nature. On the third day Jacob Smith rode into +their camp. He was a patrol guard, on a visiting tour of the outlying +stations. His news was peaceful enough. + +"I don't care a cuss how long the old man keeps the funks," he said, +with a cheery laugh. "I give it you right here, this job's a snap. I +ride around like a gen'l spyin' fer enemies. Guess Red Mask has his +uses." + +"So's most folk," responded Arizona, "but 'tain't allus easy to +locate." + +"Wal, I guess I ken locate his jest about now. I'm sort o' lyin' +fallow, which ain't usual on Skitter Bend." + +"Guess not. He's servin' us diff'rent." + +"Ah! Doin' night-guard? Say, I'd see blind hulk roastin' 'fore I'd +hang on to them beasties. But it's like you, Arizona. You hate him +wuss'n hell, an' Jake too, yet you'd--pshaw! So long. Guess I'd best +get on. I've got nigh forty miles to do 'fore I git back." + +And he rode away, careless, thoughtless, in the midst of a very real +danger. And it was the life they all led. They asked for a wage, a +bunk, and grub; nothing else mattered. + +Tresler had developed a feeling that the whole thing was a matter of +form rather than dead earnest, that he had been precipitate in sending +his message to the sheriff. He wanted to get back to the ranch. He +understood only too well how he had furthered Jake's projects, and +cursed himself bitterly for having been so easily duped. He was +comfortably out of the way, and the foreman would take particularly +good care that he should remain so as long as possible. Arizona, too, +had become anything but enlivening. He went about morosely and snapped +villainously at the boys. There was no word in answer to the message +to the sheriff. They daily searched the bluff for some sign, but +without result, and Tresler was rather glad than disappointed, while +Arizona seemed utterly without opinion on the matter. + +The third night produced a slight shock for Tresler. It was midnight, +and one of the boys roused him for his watch. He sat up, and, to his +astonishment, found Arizona sitting on a log beside him. He waited +until the boy had gone to turn in, then he looked at his friend +inquiringly. + +"What's up?" + +And Arizona's reply fairly staggered him. "Say, Tresler," he said, in +a tired voice, utterly unlike his usual forceful manner, "I jest +wanted to ast you to change 'watches' wi' me. I've kind o' lost my +grip on sleep. Mebbe I'm weak'nin' some. I 'lows I'm li'ble to git +sleepy later on, an' I tho't, mebbe, ef I wus to do the fust +watch--wal, y' see, I guess that plug in my chest ain't done me a heap +o' good." + +Tresler was on his feet in an instant. It had suddenly dawned on him +that this queer son of the prairie was ill. + +"Rot, man!" he exclaimed. His tone in no way hid his alarm. They were +at the gate of the big corral, hidden in the shadow cast by the high +wall of lateral logs. "You go and turn in. I'm going to watch till +daylight." + +"Say, that's real friendly," observed the other, imperturbably. "But +it ain't no use. Guess I couldn't sleep yet." + +"Well, please yourself. I'm going to watch till daylight." Tresler's +manner was quietly decided, and Arizona seemed to accept it. + +"Wal, ef it hits you that a-ways I'll jest set around till I git +sleepy." + +Tresler's alarm was very real, but he shrugged with a great assumption +of indifference and moved off to make a round of the corrals, +carefully hugging the shadow of the walls as he went. After a while he +returned to his post. Arizona was still sitting where he had left him. + +There was a silence for a few minutes. Then the American quietly drew +his revolver and spun the chambers round. Tresler watched him, and the +other, looking up, caught his eye. + +"Guess these things is kind o' tricksy," he observed, in explanation, +"I got it jammed oncet. It's a decent weapon but noo, an' I ain't fer +noo fixin's. This hyar," he went on, drawing a second one from its +holster, "is a 'six' an' 'ud drop an ox at fifty. Ha'r trigger too. +It's a dandy. Guess it wus 'Tough' McCulloch's. Guess you ain't got +yours on your hip?" + +Tresler shook his head. "No, I use the belt for my breeches, and keep +the guns loose in my pockets when I'm not riding." + +"Wrong. Say, fix 'em right. You take a sight too many chances." + +Tresler laughingly complied "I'm not likely to need them, but +still----" + +"Nope." Arizona returned his guns to their resting-place. Then he +looked up. "Say, guess I kind o' fixed the hosses diff'rent. Our +hosses. Bro't 'em up an' stood 'em in the angle wher' this corral +joins the next one. Seems better; more handy-like. It's sheltered, an' +ther's a bit of a sharp breeze. One o' them early frosts." He looked +up at the sky. "Guess ther' didn't ought. Ther' ain't no moon till +nigh on daylight. Howsum, ther' ain't no argyfyin' the weather." + +Tresler was watching his comrade closely. There was something peculiar +in his manner. He seemed almost fanciful, yet there was a wonderful +alertness in the rapidity of his talk. He remained silent, and, +presently, the other went on again, but he had switched off to a fresh +topic. + +"Say, I never ast you how you figgered to settle wi' Jake," he said. +"I guess it'll be all"--he broke off, and glanced out prairieward, but +went on almost immediately,--"a settlin'. I've seen you kind o' riled. +And I've seen Jake." He stood up and peered into the darkness while he +talked in his even monotone. "Yup," he went on, "ther's ways o' +dealin' wi' men--an' ways. Guess, now, ef you wus dealin' wi' an +honest citizen you'd jest talk him fair. Mind, I figger to know you a +heap." His eyes suddenly turned on the man he was addressing, but +returned almost at once to their earnest contemplation of the black +vista of grass-land. "You'd argyfy the point reas'nable, an' leave the +gal to settle for you. But wi' Jake it's diff'rent." His hand slowly +went round to his right hip, and suddenly he turned on his friend with +a look of desperate meaning. "D'you know what it'll be 'tween you two? +This is what it means;" and he whipped out the heavy six that had once +been "Tough" McCulloch's, and leveled it at arm's length out +prairieward. Tresler thought it was coming at him, and sprang back, +while Arizona laughed. "This is what it'll be. You'll take a careful +aim, an' if you've friends around they'll see fair play, sure. I guess +they'll count 'three' for you, so. Jest one, two, an' you'll both fire +on the last, so. Three!" + +There was a flash, and a sharp report, and then a cry split the still +night air. Tresler sprang at the man whom he now believed was mad, but +the cry stayed him, and the next moment he felt the grip of Arizona's +sinewy hand on his arm, and was being dragged round the corral as the +sound of horses' hoofs came thundering toward him. + +"It's them!" + +It was the only explanation Arizona vouchsafed. They reached the +horses and both sprang into the saddle, and the American's voice +whispered hoarsely-- + +"Bend low. Guess these walls'll save us, an' we've got a sheer sight +o' all the corral gates. Savee? Shoot careful, an' aim true. An' watch +out on the bluff. The sheriff's around." + +And now the inexperienced Tresler saw the whole scheme. The masterly +generalship of his comrade filled him with admiration. And he had +thought him ill, his brain turned! For some reason he believed the +raiders were approaching, but not being absolutely sure, he had found +an excuse for not turning in as usual, and cloaked all his suspicions +for fear of giving a false alarm. And their present position was one +of carefully considered strategy; the only possible one from which +they could hope to achieve any advantage, for, sheltered, they yet had +every gate of the corrals within gunshot. + +But there was little time for reflection or speculation. If the +sheriff's men came, well and good. In the meantime a crowd of a dozen +men had charged down upon the corrals, a silent, ghostly band; the +only noise they made was the clatter of their horses' hoofs. + +Both men, watching, were lying over their horses' necks. Arizona was +the first to shoot. Again his gun belched a death-dealing shot. +Tresler saw one figure reel and fall with a groan. Then his own gun +was heard. His aim was less effective, and only brought a volley in +reply from the raiders. That volley was the signal for the real battle +to begin. The ambush of the two defenders was located, and the +rustlers divided, and came sweeping round to the attack. + +But Arizona was ready. Both horses wheeled round and raced out of +their improvised fort, and Tresler, following the keen-witted man, +appreciated his resource as he darted into another angle between two +other corrals. The darkness favored them, and the rustlers swept by. +Arizona only waited long enough for them to get well clear, then his +gun rang out again, and Tresler's too. But the game was played out. A +straggler sighted them and gave the alarm, and instantly the rest took +up the chase. + +"Round the corrals!" + +As he spoke Arizona turned in his saddle and fired into the mob. A +perfect hail of shots replied, and the bullets came singing all round +them. He was as cool and deliberate as though he were hunting +jack-rabbits. Tresler joined him in a fresh fusillade, and two more +saddles were emptied, but the next moment a gasp told Arizona that his +comrade was hit, and he turned only just in time to prevent him +reeling out of the saddle. + +"Hold up, boy!" he cried. "Kep your saddle if hell's let loose. I'll +kep 'em busy." + +And the wounded man, actuated by a similar spirit, sat bolt upright, +while the two horses sped on. They were round at the front again. But +though Arizona was as good as his word, and his gun was emptied and +reloaded and emptied again, it was a hopeless contest--hopeless from +the beginning. Tresler was bleeding seriously from a wound in his +neck, and his aim was becoming more and more uncertain. But his will +was fighting hard for mastery over his bodily weakness. Just as they +headed again toward the bluff, Arizona gave a great yank at his reins +and his pony was thrown upon its haunches. The Lady Jezebel, too, as +though working in concert with her mate, suddenly stopped dead. + +The cause of the cowpuncher's action was a solitary horseman standing +right ahead of them gazing out at the bluff. The plainsman's gun was +up in an instant, in spite of the pursuers behind. Death was in his +eye as he took aim, but at that instant there was a shout from the +bluff, and the cry was taken up behind him--"Sheriff's posse!" That +cry lost him his chance of fetching Red Mask down. Before he could let +the hammer of his gun fall, the horseman had wheeled about and +vanished in the darkness. + +Simultaneously the pursuers swung out, turned, and the next moment +were in full retreat under a perfect hail of carbine-fire from the +sheriff's men. + +And as the latter followed in hot pursuit, Arizona hailed them-- + +"You've missed him; he's taken the river-bank for it. It's Red Mask! I +see him." + +But now Tresler needed all his friend's attention. Arizona saw him +fall forward and lie clinging to his saddle-horn. He sprang to his +aid, and, dismounting, lifted him gently to the ground. Then he turned +his own horse loose, leading the Lady Jezebel while he supported the +sick man up to the shack. + +Here his patient fainted dead away, but he was equal to the emergency. +He examined the wound, and found an ugly rent in the neck, whence the +blood was pumping slowly. He saw at once that a small artery had been +severed, and its adjacency to the jugular made it a matter of extreme +danger. His medical skill was small, but he contrived to wash and bind +the wound roughly. Then he quietly reloaded his guns, and, with the +aid of a stiff horn of whisky, roused some life in his patient. He +knew it would only be a feeble flicker, but while it lasted he wanted +to get him on to the Lady Jezebel's back. + +This he contrived after considerable difficulty. The mare resented the +double burden, as was only to be expected. But the cowpuncher was +desperate and knew how to handle her. + +None but Arizona would have attempted such a feat with a horse of her +description; but he must have speed if he was going to save his +friend's life, and he knew she could give it. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +WHAT LOVE WILL DO + + +Daylight was breaking when the jaded Lady Jezebel and her double +freight raced into the ranch. The mare had done the journey in +precisely two hours and a quarter. Arizona galloped her up to the +house and rounded the lean-to in which Joe slept. Then he pulled up +and shouted. Just then he had no thought for the rancher or Jake. He +had thought for no one but Tresler. + +His third shout brought Joe tumbling out of his bed. + +"Say, I've got a mighty sick man here," he cried, directly he heard +the choreman moving. "Git around an' lend a hand; gentle, too." + +"That you, Arizona?" Joe, half awake, questioned, blinking up at the +horseman in the faint light. + +"I guess; an' say, 'fore I git answerin' no fool questions, git a holt +on this notion. Red Mask's bin around Willow Bluff, an' Tresler's done +up. Savee?" + +"Tresler, did you say?" asked a girl's voice from the kitchen doorway. +"Wounded?" + +There was a world of fear in the questions, which were scarcely above +a whisper. + +Arizona was lifting Tresler down into Joe's arms. "I 'lows I didn't +know you wus ther', missie," he replied, without turning from his +task. "Careful, Joe; easy--easy now. He's dreadful sick, I guess. +Yes, missie, it's him. They've kind o' scratched him some. 'Tain't +nothin' to gas about; jest barked his neck. Kind o' needs a bit o' +band'ge. Gorl durn you, Joe! Git your arm under his shoulders an' kep +his head steady; he'll git bleedin' to death ef y' ain't careful. +Quiet, you jade!" he cried fiercely, to the mare whom Diane had +frightened with her white robe as she came to help. "No, missie, not +you," Arizona exclaimed. "He's all blood an' mussed up." Then he +discovered that she had little on but a night-dress. "Gee! but you +ain't wropped up, missie. Jest git right in. Wal," as she deliberately +proceeded to help the struggling Joe, "ef you will; but Joe ken do it, +I guess. Ther', that's it. I ken git off'n this crazy slut of a mare +now." + +Directly Arizona had quit the saddle he relieved Diane, and, with the +utmost gentleness, started to take the sick man into the lean-to. But +the girl protested at once. + +"Not in there," she said sharply. "Take him into the house. I'll go +and fix a bed up-stairs. Bring him through the kitchen." + +She spoke quite calmly. Too calmly, Joe thought. + +"To that house?" Arizona protested. + +"Yes, yes, of course." Then the passion of grief let itself loose, and +Diane cried, "And why not? Where else should he go? He belongs to me. +Why do you stand there like an imbecile? Take him at once. Oh, Jack, +Jack, why don't you speak? Oh, take him quickly! You said he would +bleed to death. He isn't dead? No, tell me he isn't dead?" + +"Dead? Dead? Ha, ha!" Arizona threw all the scorn he was capable of +into the words, and laughed with funereal gravity. "Say, that's real +good--real good. Him dead? Wal, I guess not. Pshaw! Say, missie, you +ain't ast after my health, an' I'm guessin' I oughter be sicker'n him, +wi' that mare o' his. Say, jest git right ahead an' fix that bunk fer +him, like the daisy gal you are. What about bl--your father, missie?" + +"Never mind father. Come along." + +The man's horse-like attempt at lightness had its effect. The girl +pulled herself together. She realized the emergency. She knew that +Tresler needed her help. Arizona's manner had only emphasized the +gravity of his case. + +She ran on ahead, and the other, bearing the unconscious man, +followed. + +"Never mind father," Arizona muttered doubtfully. "Wal, here goes." +Then he called back to Joe: "Git around that mare an' sling the saddle +on a fresh plug; guess I'll need it." + +He passed through the kitchen, and stepping into the hall he was +startled by the apparition of the blind man standing in the doorway of +his bedroom. He was clad in his customary dressing-gown, and his eyes +glowed ruddily in the light of the kitchen lamp. + +"What's this?" he asked sharply. + +"Tresler's bin done up," Arizona replied at once. "Guess the gang got +around Willow Bluff--God's curse light on 'em!" + +"Hah! And where are you taking him?" + +"Up-sta'rs," was the brief reply. Then the cowpuncher bethought him of +his duty to his employer. "Guess the cattle are safe, fer which you +ken thank the sheriff's gang. Miss Dianny's hustlin' a bunk fer him," +he added. + +In spite of his usual assurance, Arizona never felt easy with this +man. Now the rancher's manner decidedly thawed. + +"Yes, yes," he said gently. "Take the poor boy up-stairs. You'd better +go for the doctor. You can give me the details afterward." + +He turned back into his room, and the other passed up the stairs. + +He laid the sick man on the bed, and pointed out to the girl the +bandage on his neck, advising, in his practical fashion, its +readjustment. Then he went swiftly from the house and rode into Forks +for Doc. Osler, the veterinary surgeon, the only available medical man +in that part of the country. + +When Diane found herself alone with the man she loved stretched out +before her, inert, like one dead, her first inclination was to sit +down and weep for him. She could face her own troubles with a certain +fortitude, but to see this strong man laid low, perhaps dying, was a +different thing, and her womanly weakness was near to overcoming her. +But though the unshed tears filled her eyes, her love brought its +courage to her aid, and she approached the task Arizona had pointed +out. + +With deft fingers she removed the sodden bandage, through which the +blood was slowly oozing. The flow, which at once began again, alarmed +her, and set her swiftly to work. Now she understood as well as +Arizona did what was amiss. She hurried out to her own room, and +returned quickly with materials for rebandaging, and her arms full of +clothes. Then, with the greatest care, she proceeded to bind up the +neck, placing a cork on the artery below the severance. This she +strapped down so tightly that, for the time at least, the bleeding was +staunched. Her object accomplished, she proceeded to dress herself +ready for the doctor's coming. + +She had taken her place at the bedside, and was meditating on what +further could be done for her patient, when an event happened on which +she had in nowise reckoned. Somebody was ascending the stair with the +shuffling gait of one feeling his way. It was her father. The first +time within her memory that he had visited the upper part of the +house. + +A look of alarm leapt into her eyes as she gazed at the door, watching +for his coming, and she realized only too well the possibilities of +the situation. What would he say? What would he do? + +A moment later she was facing him with calm courage. Her fears had +been stifled by the knowledge of her lover's helplessness. One look at +his dear, unconscious form had done for her what nothing else could +have done. Her filial duty went out like a candle snuffed with wet +fingers. There was not even a spark left. + +Julian Marbolt stepped across the threshold, and his head slowly moved +round as though to ascertain in what direction his daughter was +sitting. The oil-lamp seemed to attract his blind attention, and his +eyes fixed themselves upon it; but for a moment only. Then they passed +on until they settled on the girl. + +"Where is he?" he asked coldly. "I can hear you breathing. Is he +dead?" + +Diane sprang up and bent over her patient. "No," she said, half +fearing that her father's inquiry was prophetic. "He is unconscious +from loss of blood. Arizona----" + +"Tchah! Arizona!--I want to talk to you. Here, give me your hand and +lead me to the bedside. I will sit here. This place is unfamiliar." + +Diane did as she was bid. She was pale. A strained look was in her +soft brown eyes, but there was determination in the set of her lips. + +"What is the matter with you, girl?" her father asked. The softness of +his speech in no way disguised the iciness of his manner. "You're +shaking." + +"There's nothing the matter with me," she replied pointedly. + +"Ah, thinking of him." His hand reached out until it rested on one of +Tresler's legs. His remark seemed to require no answer, and a silence +fell while Diane watched the eyes so steadily directed upon the sick +man. Presently he went on. "These men have done well. They have saved +the cattle. Arizona mentioned the sheriff. I don't know much about it +yet, but it seems to me this boy must have contrived their assistance. +Smart work, if he did so." + +"Yes, father, and brave," added the girl in a low tone. + +His words had raised hope within her. But with his next he dashed it. + +"Brave? It was his duty," he snapped, resentful immediately. The red +eyes were turned upon his daughter, and she fancied she saw something +utterly cruel in their painful depths. "You are uncommonly +interested," he went on slowly. "I was warned before that he and you +were too thick. I told you of it--cautioned you. Isn't that +sufficient, or have I to----" He left his threat unfinished. + +A color flushed slowly into Diane's cheeks and her eyes sparkled. + +"No, it isn't sufficient, father. You have no right to stop me +speaking to Mr. Tresler. I have bowed to your decision with regard to +the other men on the ranch. There, perhaps, you had a right--a +parent's right. But it is different with Mr. Tresler. He is a +gentleman. As for character, you yourself admit it is unimpeachable. +Then what right have you to refuse to allow me even speech with him? +It is absurd, tyrannical; and I refuse to obey you." + +The frowning brows drew sharply down over the man's eyes. And Diane +understood the sudden rising of storm behind the mask-like face. She +waited with a desperate calmness. It was the moral bravery prompted by +her new-born love. + +But the storm held off, controlled by that indomitable will which made +Julian Marbolt an object of fear to all who came into contact with +him. + +"You are an ungrateful girl, a foolish girl," he said quietly. "You +are ungrateful that you refuse to obey me; and foolish, that you think +to marry him." + +Diane sprang to her feet. "I--how----" + +"Tut! Do not protest. I know you have promised to be his wife. If you +denied it you would lie." He sat for a moment enjoying the girl's +discomfort. Then he went on, with a cruel smile about his lips as she +returned to her seat with a movement that was almost a collapse. +"That's better," he said, following her action by means of his +wonderful instinct. "Now let us be sensible--very sensible." + +His tone had become persuasive, such as might have been used to a +child, and the girl wondered what further cruelty it masked. She had +not long to wait. + +"You are going to give up this madness," he said coldly. "You will +show yourself amenable to reason--my reason--or I shall enforce my +demands in another way." + +The girl's exasperation was growing with each moment, but she kept +silence, waiting for him to finish. + +"You will never marry this man," he went on, with quiet emphasis. "Nor +any other man while I live. There is no marriage for you, my girl. +There can be no marriage for you. And the more 'unimpeachable' a man's +character the less the possibility." + +"I don't pretend to understand you," Diane replied, with a coldness +equal to her father's own. + +"No; perhaps you don't." The man chuckled fiendishly. + +Tears sprang into the girl's eyes. She could no longer check them. +And with them came the protest that she was also powerless to +withhold. + +"Why may I not marry? Why can I not marry? Surely I can claim the +right of every woman to marry the man of her choice. I know you have +no good will for me, father. Why, I cannot understand. I have always +obeyed you; I have ever striven to do my duty. If there has never been +any great affection displayed, it is not my fault. For, ever since I +can remember, you have done your best to kill the love I would have +given you. How have I been ungrateful? What have I to be grateful for? +I cannot remember one single kindness you have ever shown me. You have +set up a barrier between me and the world outside this ranch. I am a +prisoner here. Why? Am I so hateful? Have I no claims on your +toleration? Am I not your own flesh and blood?" + +"No!" + +The man's answer came with staggering force. It was the bursting of +the storm of passion, which even his will could no longer restrain. +But it was the whole storm, for he went no further. It was Diane who +spoke next. Her cheeks had assumed an ashen hue, and her lips trembled +so that she could scarcely frame her words. + +"What do you mean?" she gasped. + +"Tut! Your crazy obstinacy drives me to it," her father answered +impatiently, but with perfect control. "Oh, you need have no fear. +There is no legal shame to you. But there is that which will hit you +harder, I think." + +"Father! What are you saying?" + +Something of the man's meaning was growing upon her. Old hints and +innuendoes against her mother were recalled by his words. Her throat +parched while she watched the relentless face of this man who was +still her father. + +"Saying? You know the story of my blindness. You know I spent three +years visiting nearly every eye-doctor in Europe. But what you don't +know, and shall know, is that I returned home to Jamaica at the end of +that time to find myself the father of a three-days'-old baby girl." +The man's teeth were clenched, rage and pain distorted his face, +rendering his sightless stare a hideous thing. "Yes," he went on, but +now more to himself, "I returned home to that, and in time to hear the +last words your mother uttered in life; in time to feel--feel her +death-struggles." He mouthed his words with unmistakable relish, and +relapsed into silence. + +Diane fell back with a bitter cry. The cry roused her father. + +"Well?" he continued. "You'll give this man up--now?" + +For some minutes there was no answer. The girl sat like a statue +carved in dead white stone; and the expression of her face was as +stony as the mould of her features. Her blood was chilled; her brain +refused its office; and her heart--it was as though that fount of life +lay crushed within her bosom. Even the man lying sick on the bed +beside her had no meaning for her. + +"Well?" her father demanded impatiently. "You are going to give +Tresler up now?" + +She heard him this time. With a rush everything came to her, and a +feeling of utter helplessness swept over her. Oh, the shame of it! +Suddenly she flung forward on the bed and sobbed her heart out beside +the man she must give up. He had been the one bright ray in the dull +gray of her life. His love, come so quickly, so suddenly, to her had +leavened the memory of her unloved years. Their recollection had been +thrust into the background to give place to the sunshine of a precious +first love. And now it must all go. There was no other course open to +her, she told herself; and in this decision was revealed her father's +consummate devilishness. He understood her straightforward pride, if +he had no appreciation of it. Then, suddenly, there came a feeling of +resentment and hatred for the author of her misfortune, and she sat up +with the tears only half dry on her cheeks. Her father's dead eyes +were upon her, and their hateful depths seemed to be searching her. +She knew she must submit to his will. He mastered her as he mastered +everybody else. + +"It is not what I will," she said, in a low voice. "I understand; our +lives must remain apart." Then anger brought harshness into her tone. +"I would have given him up of my own accord had I known. I could not +have thrust the shame of my birth upon him. But you--you have kept +this from me all these years, saving it, in your heartless way, for +such a moment as this. Why have you told me? Why do you keep me at +your side? Oh, I hate you!" + +"Yes, yes, of course you do," her father said, quite unmoved by her +attack. "Now you are tasting something--only something--of the +bitterness of my life. And it is good that you should. The parent's +sins--the children. Yes, you certainly can feel----" + +"For heaven's sake leave me!" the girl broke in, unable to stand the +taunting--the hideous enjoyment of the man. + +"Not yet; I haven't done. This man----" The rancher leant over the +bed, and one hand felt its way over Tresler's body until it rested +over his heart. "At one time I was glad he came here. I had reasons. +His money was as good as in my pocket. He would have bought stock from +me at a goodish profit. Now I have changed my mind. I would sacrifice +that. It would be better perhaps--perhaps. No, he is not dead yet. But +he may die, eh, Diane? It would be better were he to die; it would +save your explanation to him. Yes, let him die. You are not going to +marry him. You would not care to see him marry another, as, of course, +he will. Let him die. Love? Love? Why, it would be kindness to +yourselves. Yes, let him die." + +"You--you--wretch!" Diane was on her feet, and her eyes blazed down +upon the cruel, working face before her. The cry was literally wrung +from her. "And that is the man who was ready to give his life for your +interests. That is the man whose cleverness and bravery you even +praised. You want me to refuse him the trifling aid I can give him. +You are a monster! You have parted us, but it is not sufficient; you +want his life." + +She suddenly bent over and seized her father's hand, where it rested +upon Tresler's heart, and dragged it away. + +"Take your hand off him; don't touch him!" she cried in a frenzy. "You +are not----" + +But she got no further. The lean, sinewy hand had closed over hers, +and held them both as in a vice; and the pressure made her cry out. + +"Listen!" he said fiercely. He, too, was standing now, and his tall +figure dwarfed hers. "He is to be moved out of here. I will have Jake +to see to it in the morning. And you shall know what it is to thwart +me if you dare to interfere." + +He abruptly released her hands and turned away; but he shot round +again as he heard her reply. + +"I shall nurse him," she said. + +"You will not." + +The girl laughed hysterically. The scene had been too much for her, +and she was on the verge of breaking down. + +"We shall see," she cried after him, as he passed out of the room. + +The whole ranch was astir when Arizona returned with Doc. Osler. Nor +did they come alone. Fyles had met them on the trail. He had just +returned from a fruitless pursuit of the raiders. He had personally +endeavored to track Red Mask, but the rustler had evaded him in the +thick bush that lined the river; and his men had been equally +unsuccessful with the rest of the band. The hills had been their goal, +and they had made it through the excellence of their horses. Although +the pursuers were well mounted their horses were heavier, and lost +ground hopelessly in the midst of the broken land of the foot-hills. + +Jake was closeted with the rancher at the coming of the doctor and his +companions; but their confabulation was brought to an abrupt +termination at once. + +The doctor went to the wounded man, who still remained unconscious, +while Fyles joined the rancher and his foreman in a discussion of the +night's doings. And while these things were going on Arizona and Joe +shared the hospitality of the lean-to. + +The meeting in the rancher's den had not proceeded far when a summons +from up-stairs cut it short. Diane brought a message from the doctor +asking her father and the sheriff to join him. Marbolt displayed +unusual alacrity, and Fyles followed him as he tapped his way up to +the sick-room. Here the stick was abandoned, and he was led to his +seat by his daughter. Diane was pale, but alert and determined; while +her father wore a gentle look of the utmost concern. The doctor was +standing beside the window gazing out over the pastures, but he turned +at once as they came in. + +"A nasty case, Mr. Marbolt," he said, the moment the rancher had taken +up his position. "A very nasty case." He was a brusque little man with +a pair of keen black eyes, which he turned on the blind man curiously. +"An artery cut by bullet. Small artery. Your daughter most cleverly +stopped bleeding. Many thanks to her. Patient lost gallons of blood. +Precarious position--very. No danger from wound now. Exhaustion only. +Should he bleed again--death. But he won't; artery tied up securely. +Miss Marbolt says you desire patient removed to usual quarters. I say +no! Remove him--artery break afresh--death. Sheriff, I order +distinctly this man remains where he is. Am I right? Have I right?" + +"Undoubtedly." Then Fyles turned upon the blind man. "His orders are +your law, Mr. Marbolt," he said. "And you, of course, will be held +responsible for any violation of them." + +The blind man nodded in acquiescence. + +"Good," said the doctor, rubbing his hands. "Nothing more for me now. +Return to-morrow. Miss Marbolt, admirable nurse. Wish I was patient. +He will be about again in two weeks. Artery small. Health good--young. +Oh, yes, no fear. Only exhaustion. Hope you catch villains. +Good-morning. Might have severed jugular--near shave." + +Doc. Osler bowed to the girl and passed out muttering, "Capital +nurse--beautiful." His departure brought the rancher to his feet, and +he groped his way to the door. As he passed his daughter he paused and +gently patted her on the back. + +"Ah, child," he said, with a world of tolerant kindness in his voice, +"I still think you are wrong. He would have been far better in his own +quarters, his familiar surroundings, and amongst his friends. You are +quite inexperienced, and these men understand bullet wounds as well as +any doctor. However, have your way. I hope you won't have cause to +regret it." + +"All right, father," Diane replied, without turning her eyes from the +contemplation of her sick lover. + +And Fyles, standing at the foot of the bed watching the scene, +speculated shrewdly as to the relations in which the girl and her +patient stood, and the possible parental disapproval of the same. +Certainly he had no idea of the matters which had led up to the +necessity for his official services to enforce the doctor's orders. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE LIGHTED LAMP + + +Diane was by no means satisfied with her small victory. She had gained +her point, it is true, but she had gained it by means which gave no +promise of a happy outcome to her purpose. + +Left alone with her patient she had little to do but reflect on her +position, and her thoughts brought her many a sigh, much heart-racking +and anxiety. For herself she allowed little thought. Her mind was made +up as to her future. Her love was to be snatched away while yet the +first sweet glamour of it was upon her. Every hope, every little +castle she had raised in her maiden thoughts, had been ruthlessly +shattered, and the outlook of her future was one dull gray vista of +hopelessness. It was the old order accentuated, and the pain of it +gripped her heart with every moment she gave to its contemplation. +Happily the life she had lived had strengthened her; she was not the +girl to weep at every ill that befell. The first shock had driven her +to tears, but that had passed. She was of a nature that can suffer +bravely, and face the world dry-eyed, gently, keeping the bitterness +of her lot to herself, and hiding her own pain under an earnest +attempt to help others. + +Tresler was her all; and that all meant far more than mere earthly +love. To her he was something that must be cherished as a priceless +gem entrusted to her care, and his honor was more sacred to her than +her own. Therefore all personal considerations must be passed over, +and she must give him up. + +But if his honor was safe in her keeping, his personal safety was +another matter. In pitting herself against her father's will she fully +realized the danger she was incurring. Therefore she racked her sorely +taxed brain for the best means of safeguarding her charge. + +She hardly knew what she feared. There was no real danger she could +think of, but her instinct warned her to watchfulness, to be prepared +for anything. She felt sure that her father would seek some means of +circumventing the sheriff's mandate. What form would his attempt take? + +After half an hour's hard thinking she made up her mind to consult her +wise old counselor, Joe, and enlist his aid. With this object in view +she went down-stairs and visited the lean-to. Here she found both +Arizona and Joe. Arizona was waiting a summons from the rancher, who +was still busy with Jake and Fyles. At first she thought of consulting +her adviser privately, but finally decided to take both men into her +confidence; and this the more readily since she knew her lover's +liking for the hot-headed cowpuncher. + +Both men stood up as she entered. Arizona dragged his slouch hat off +with clumsy haste. + +"Boys," the girl said at once, "I've come to ask you for a little +help." + +[Illustration: Left alone with her patient she had little to do but +reflect] + +"Makes me glad, missie," said the cowpuncher, with alacrity. + +Joe contented himself with an upward glance of inquiry. + +Diane nodded with an assumption of brightness. + +"Well, it's this," she said. "Jack mustn't be left for the next few +days. Now, I am his nurse, but I have household duties to perform and +shall be forced to leave him at times. You, Arizona, won't be able to +do anything in the daytime, because you are occupied on the ranch. But +I thought you, Joe, could help me by being in the kitchen as much as +possible. You see, in the kitchen you can hear the least sound coming +from up-stairs. The room is directly overhead. In that way I shall be +free to do my house." + +"Guess you had trouble fixin' him up-stairs?" Joe inquired slowly. +"Doc. Osler wus sayin' somethin' 'fore he went." + +Diane turned away. The shrewd old eyes were reading her like a book. + +"Yes, father wanted him put in the bunkhouse." + +"Ah." Joe's twisted face took on a curious look. "Yes, I guess I ken +do that. What's to happen o' night time?" + +"Oh, I can sit up with him. The night is all right," the girl returned +easily. + +"Guess we'd best take it turn about like," Joe suggested. + +"No, it wouldn't do." + +"Guess it wouldn't do. That's so," the other observed thoughtfully. +"Howsum, I ken set around the kitchen o' nights. I shan't need no +lights. Y' see, wi' the door open right into the hall ther' ain't no +sound but what I'll hear." + +The man's meaning was plain enough, but the girl would not take it. + +"No," she said, "it's in the daytime I want you." + +"Daytime? I guess that's fixed." Joe looked up dissatisfied. + +At this juncture Arizona broke in with a scheme for his own +usefulness. + +"Say, missie, any time o' night you jest tap hard on that windy I'll +know you want the doc. fetchin'. An' I'll come right along up an' git +orders. I'll be waitin' around." + +The girl looked him squarely in the eyes, seeking the meaning that lay +behind his words. But the man's expression was sphinx-like. She felt +that these rough creatures, instead of acting as advisers, had assumed +the responsibilities she had only asked their assistance in. + +"You are good fellows both. I can't thank you; but you've taken a +weight off my mind." + +"Ther' ain't no thanks, missie. I figger as a doc. is an a'mighty +ne'sary thing when a feller's sick," observed Arizona, quietly. + +"Spec'ally at night time," put in Joe, seriously. + +"I'll get back to my patient," Diane said abruptly. And as she flitted +away to the house the men heard the heavy tread of Jake coming round +the lean-to, and understood the hastiness of her retreat. + +The next minute the foreman had summoned Arizona to the rancher's +presence. + +Diane had done well to enlist the help of these men. Without some aid +it would have been impossible to look after Tresler. She feared her +father, as well she might. What would be easier than for him to get +her out of the way, and then have Jake deport her patient to the +bunkhouse? Doc. Osler's threats of life or death had been exaggerated +to help her carry her point, she knew, and, also, she fully realized +that her father understood this was so. He was not the man to be +scared of any bogey like that. Besides, his parting words, so gentle, +so kindly; she had grown to distrust him most in his gentler moods. + +All that day, assisted by Joe, she watched at the sickbed. Tresler was +never left for long; and when it was absolutely necessary to leave him +Joe's sharp ears were straining for any alarming sound, and, +unauthorized by Diane, his eyes were on the hallway, watching the +rancher's bedroom door. He had no compunction in admitting his fears +to himself. He had wormed the whole story of the rancher's anger at +Tresler's presence in the house from his young mistress, and, also, he +understood that Diane's engagement to her patient was known to her +father. Therefore his lynx eyes never closed, his keen ears were ever +strained, and he moved about with a gun in his hip-pocket. He didn't +know what might happen, but his movements conveyed his opinion of the +man with whom they had to deal. Arizona had been despatched with Fyles +to Willow Bluff. There were wounded men there to be identified, and +the officer wanted his aid in examining the battlefield. + +"But he'll git around to-night," Joe had said, after bringing the news +to Diane. "Sure--sure as pinewood breeds bugs." + +And the girl was satisfied. The day wore on, and night brought no +fresh anxiety. Diane was at her post, Joe was alert, and though no one +had heard of Arizona's return, twice, in the small hours, the choreman +heard a footfall outside his lean-to, and he made a shrewd guess as to +whose it was. + +The second and third day passed satisfactorily, but still Tresler +displayed no sign of life. He lay on the bed just as he had been +originally placed there. Each day the brusque little doctor drove out +from Forks, and each day he went back leaving little encouragement +behind him. Before he went away, after his third visit, he shook his +head gravely in response to the nurse's eager inquiries. + +"He's got to get busy soon," he said, as he returned his liniments and +medical stores to his bag. "Don't like it. Bad--very bad. Nature +exhausting. He must rouse soon--or death. Three days----Tut, tut! +Still no sign. Cheer up, nurse. Give him three more. Then drastic +treatment. Won't come till he wakes--no use. Send for me. Good girl. +Stick to it. Sorry. Good-bye." + +And patting Diane on the back the man bustled out in his jerky +fashion, leaving her weeping over the verdict he had left behind. + +It was the strain of watching that had unnerved her. She was bodily +and mentally weary. Her eyes and head ached with the seemingly endless +vigil. Three days and nights and barely six hours' sleep over all, +and those only snatched at broken intervals. + +And now another night confronted her. So overwrought was she that she +even thought of seeking the aid old Joe had proffered. She thought +quite seriously of it for some moments. Could she not smuggle him +up-stairs after her father had had his supper and retired to his +bedroom? She had no idea that Joe had, secretly, spent almost as much +time on the watch as she had done. However, she came to no actual +decision, and went wearily down and prepared the evening meal. She +waited on the blind man in her usual patient, silent manner, and +afterward went back to the kitchen and prepared to face the long +dreary night. + +Joe was finishing the washing-up. He was longer over it than usual, +though he had acquired a wonderful proficiency in his culinary duties +since he was first employed on the ranch. Diane paid little heed to +him, and as soon as her share of the work was finished, prepared to +retire up-stairs. + +"There's just the sweeping up, Joe," she said. "When you've finished +that we are through. I must go up to him." + +Joe glanced round from his washing-trough, but went on with his work. + +"He ain't showed no sign, Miss Dianny?" he asked eagerly. + +"No, Joe." + +The girl spoke almost in a whisper, leaning against the table with a +deep sigh of weariness. + +"Say, Miss Dianny," the little man suggested softly, "that doc. +feller said mebbe he'd give him three days. It's a real long spell. +Seems to me you'll need to be up an' around come that time." + +"Oh, I shall be 'up and around,' Joe." + +The grizzled old head shook doubtfully, and he moved away from his +trough, drying his hands, and came over to where she was standing. + +"Say, I jest can't sleep noways. I'm like that, I guess. I git spells. +I wus kind o' thinkin' mebbe I'd set around like. A good night's slep +'ud fix you right. I've heerd tell as folks kind o' influences their +patiences some. You bein' tired, an' sleppy, an' miser'ble, now mebbe +that's jest wot's keppin' him back----" + +Diane shook her head. She saw through his round-about subterfuge, and +its kindliness touched her. + +"No, no, Joe," she said almost tenderly. "Not on your life. You would +give me your last crust if you were starving. You are doing all, and +more than any one else would do for me, and I will accept nothing +further." + +"You're figgerin' wrong," he retorted quite harshly. "'Tain't fer you. +No, no, it's fer him. Y' see we're kind o' dependin' on him, Arizona +an' me----" + +"What for?" the girl asked quietly. + +"Wal, y' see--wal--it's like this. He's goin' to be a rancher. Yes, +don't y' see?" he asked, with a pitiful attempt at a knowing leer. + +"No, I don't." + +"Say, mebbe Arizona an' me'll git a nice little job--a nice little +job. Eh?" + +"You are talking nonsense, and you know it." + +"Eh? What?" + +The little man stood abashed at the girl's tone. + +"You're only saying all this to get me to sleep to-night, instead of +sitting up. Well, I'm not going to. You thinking of mercenary things +like that. Oh, Joe, it's almost funny." + +Joe's face flushed as far as it was capable of flushing. + +"Wal," he said, "I jest thought ther' wa'n't no use in two o' us +settin' up." + +"Nor is there. I'm going to do it. You've made me feel quite fresh +with your silly talk." + +"Ah, mebbe. Guess I'll swep up." + +Diane took the hint and went up-stairs, her eyes brimming with tears. +In her present state of unhappiness Joe's utter unselfishness was more +than she could bear. + +She took her place at the bedside, determined to sit there as long as +she could keep awake, afterward she would adopt a "sentry-go" in the +passage. For an hour she battled with sleep. She kept her eyes open, +but her senses were dull and she passed the time in a sort of dream, a +nasty, fanciful dream, in which Tresler was lying dead on the bed +beside her, and she was going through the agony of realization. She +was mourning him, living on in the dreary round of her life under her +father's roof, listening to his daily sneers, and submitting to his +studied cruelties. No doubt this waking dream would have continued +until real sleep had stolen upon her unawares, but, after an hour, +something occurred to fully arouse her. There was a distinct movement +on the bed. Tresler had suddenly drawn up one arm, which, almost +immediately, fell again on the coverlet, as though the spasmodic +movement had been uncontrolled by any power either mental or physical. + +She was on her feet in an instant, bending over him ready to +administer the drugs Doc. Osler had left with her. And by the light of +the shaded lamp she saw a distinct change in the pallor of his face. +It was no longer death-like; there was a tinge of life, however faint, +in the drawn features. And as she beheld it she could have cried aloud +in her joy. + +She administered the restoratives and returned to her seat with a +fast-beating heart. And suddenly she remembered with alarm how near +sleep she had been. She rose abruptly and began to pace the room. The +moment was a critical one. Her lover might regain consciousness at any +time. And with this thought came an access of caution. She went out on +the landing and looked at the head of the stairs. Then she crept back. +An inspiration had come to her. She would barricade the approach, and +though even to herself she did not admit the thought, it was the +recollection of her father's blindness that prompted her. + +Taking two chairs she propped them at the head of the stairs in such a +position that the least accidental touch would topple them headlong. +The scheme appealed to her. Then, dreading sleep more than ever, she +took up her "sentry-go" on the landing, glancing in at the sick-room +at every turn in her walk. + +The hours dragged wearily on. Tresler gave no further sign. It was +after midnight, and the girl's eyes refused to keep open any longer; +added to which she frequently stumbled as she paced to and fro. In +desperation she fetched the lamp from the sick-room and passed into +her own, and bathed her face in cold water. Then she busied herself +with tidying the place up. Anything to keep herself awake. After a +while, feeling better, she sat on the edge of her bed to rest. It was +a fatal mistake. Her eyes closed against all effort of will. She was +helpless. Nothing could have stopped her. Exhausted nature claimed +her--and she slept. + +And Tresler was rousing. His constitution had asserted itself, and the +restorative Diane had administered was doing the rest. He moved +several times, but as yet his strength was insufficient to rouse him +to full consciousness. He lay there with his brain struggling against +his overwhelming weakness. Thought was hard at work with the mistiness +of dreaming. He was half aware that he was stretched out upon a bed, +yet it seemed to him that he was bound down with fetters of iron, +which resisted his wildest efforts to break. It seemed to him that he +was struggling fiercely, and that Jake was looking on mocking him. At +last, utterly weary and exhausted he gave up trying and called upon +Arizona. He shouted loudly, but he could not hear his own voice; he +shouted again and again, raising his screams to a fearful pitch, but +still no sound came. Then he thought that Jake went away, and he was +left utterly alone. He lay quite still waiting, and presently he +realized that he was stretched out on the prairie, staked down to the +ground by shackles securing his hands and feet; and the moon was +shining, and he could hear the distant sound of the coyotes and +prairie dogs. This brought him to a full understanding. His enemies +had done this thing so that he should be eaten alive by the starving +scavengers of the prairie. He pondered long; wondering, as the cries +of the coyotes drew nearer, how long it would be before the first of +the loathsome creatures would attack him. Now he could see their forms +in the moonlight. They came slowly, slowly. One much bigger than the +rest was leading; and as the creature drew near he saw that it had the +face of the rancher, whose blind eyes shone out like two coals of fire +in the moonlight. It reared itself on its hind legs, and to his utter +astonishment, as this man-wolf stood gazing down upon him, he saw that +it was wearing the dressing-gown in which the rancher always appeared. +It was a weird apparition, and the shackled man felt the force of +those savage, glowing eyes, gazing so cruelly into his. But there +could be no resistance, he was utterly at the creature's mercy. He saw +the gleaming teeth bared in anticipation of the meal awaiting it, but, +with wolf-like cunning, it dissembled. It moved around, gazing in +every direction to see that the coast was clear, it paused and stood +listening; then it came on. Now it was standing near him, and he could +feel the warmth of its reeking breath blowing on his face. Lower +drooped its head, and its front feet, which he recognized as hands, +were placed upon his neck. Then a faint and distant voice reached him, +and he knew that this man-wolf was speaking. "So you'd marry her," it +said. "You! But we'll take no chances--no chances. I could tear your +throat out, but I won't; no, I won't do that. A little blood--just a +little." And then the dreaming man felt the fingers moving about his +throat. They felt cold and clammy, and the night air chilled him. + +Then came a change, one of those fantastic changes which dreamland +loves, and which drives the dreamer, even in his sleeping thought, +nearly distracted. The dark vista of the prairie suddenly lit. A great +light shone over all, and the dreaming man could see nothing but the +light--that, and the wolf-man. The ghoulish creature stood its ground. +The fingers were still at his throat, but now they moved uncertainly, +groping. There was no longer the deliberate movement of set purpose. +It was as though the light had blinded the cruel scavenger, that its +purpose was foiled through its power of vision being suddenly +destroyed. It was a breathless moment in the dream. + +But the tension quickly relaxed. The hands were drawn abruptly away. +The wolf-man stood erect again, and the dreamer heard it addressing +the light. The words were gentle, in contrast with the manner in which +it had spoken to him, and the softness of its tones held him +fascinated. + +"He's better, eh? Coming round," he said. And somehow the dreamer +thought that he laughed, and the invisible coyotes laughed with him. + +A brief silence followed, which was ultimately broken by another +voice. It was a voice from out of the light, and its tones were a gasp +of astonishment and alarm. + +"What are you doing here, father?" the voice asked. There was a +strange familiarity in the tones, and the dreamer struggled for +recollection; but before it came to him the voice went on with a wild +exclamation of horror. "Father! The bandage!" + +The dreamer wondered; and something drew his attention to the +wolf-man. He saw that the creature was eyeing the light with ferocious +purpose in its expression. It was all so real that he felt a wild +thrill of excitement as he watched for what was to happen. But the +voice out of the light again spoke, and he found himself listening. + +"Go!" it said in a tone of command, and thrilling with horror and +indignation. "Go! or--no, dare to lay a hand on me, and I'll dash the +lamp in your face! Go now! or I will summon help. It is at hand, +below. And armed help." + +There was a pause. The wolf-man stared at the light with villainous +eyes, but the contemplated attack was not forthcoming. The creature +muttered something which the dreamer lost. Then it moved away; not as +it had come, but groping its way blindly. A moment later the light +went out too, the cries of the coyotes were hushed, and the moon shone +down on the scene as before. And the dreamer, still feeling himself +imprisoned, watched the great yellow globe until it disappeared below +the horizon. Then, as the darkness closed over him, he seemed to +sleep, for the scene died out and recollection faded away. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE RENUNCIATION + + +The early morning sun was streaming in through the window of the sick +man's room when Tresler at last awoke to consciousness. And, curiously +enough, more than half an hour passed before Diane became aware of the +change in her patient. + +And yet she was wide awake too. Sleep had never been further from her +eyes, and her mind never more alert. But for the first time since +Tresler had been brought in wounded, his condition was no longer first +in her thoughts. Something occupied her at the moment of his waking to +the exclusion of all else. + +The man lay like a log. His eyes were staring up at the ceiling; he +made no movement, and though perfect consciousness had come to him +there was no interest with it, no inquiry. He accepted his position +like an infant waking from its healthy night-long slumber. Truth to +tell, his weakness held him prisoner, sapping all natural inclination +from mind and body. All his awakening brought him was a hazy, +indifferent recollection of a bad dream; that, and a background of the +events at Willow Bluff. + +If the man were suffering from a bad dream, the girl's expression +suggested the terrible reality of her thought. There was something +worse than horror in her eyes, in the puckering of her brows, in the +nervous compression of her lips. There was a blending of terror and +bewilderment in the brown depths that contemplated the wall before +her, and every now and then her pretty figure moved with a palpable +shudder. Her thoughts were reviewing feverishly scenes similar to +those in her patient's dream, only with her they were terrible +realities which she had witnessed only a few hours before in that very +room. At that moment she would have given her life to have been able +to call them dreams. Her lover's life had been attempted by the +inhuman process of reopening his wound. + +Should she ever forget the dreadful scene? Never! Not once, but time +and again her brain pictured each detail with a distinctness that was +in the nature of physical pain. From the moment she awoke, which had +been unaccountable to her, to find herself still propped against the +foot-rail of her bed, to the finish of the dastardly scene in the +sick-room was a living nightmare. She remembered the start with which +she had opened her eyes. As far as she knew she had heard nothing; +nothing had disturbed her. And yet she found herself sitting bolt +upright, awake, listening, intent. Then her rush to the lamp. Her +guilty feelings. The unconscious stealth of her tiptoeing to the +landing outside. Her horror at the discovery that her obstruction to +the staircase had been removed, and the chairs, as though to mock the +puerility of her scheming, set in orderly fashion, side by side +against the wall to make way for the midnight intruder. The closed +door of the sick-room, which yielded to her touch and revealed the +apparition of her father bending over her lover, and, with no +uncertainty of movement, removing the bandage from the wounded neck. +The terror of it all remained. So long as she lived she could never +forget one single detail of it. + +Even now, though hours had passed since these things had happened, the +nervousness with which she had finally approached the task of +readjusting the bandage still possessed her. And even the thankfulness +with which she discovered that the intended injury had been frustrated +was inadequate to bring her more than a passing satisfaction. She +shuddered, and nervously turned to her patient. + +Then it was that she became aware of his return to life. + +"Jack! Oh, thank God!" she murmured softly. + +And the sound of the well-loved voice roused the patient's interest in +the things about him. + +"Where am I?" he asked, in a weak whisper, turning his eyes to the +face so anxiously regarding him. + +But Diane's troubles had been lifted from her shoulders for the moment +and the nurse was uppermost once more. She signed to him to keep quiet +while she administered the doses Doc. Osler had prepared for him. Then +she answered his question. + +"You are in the room adjoining mine," she said quietly. + +Her woman's instinct warned her that no more reassuring information +could be given him. + +And the result justified it. He smiled faintly, and, in a few moments, +his eyes closed again and he slept. + +Then the girl set about her work in earnest. She hurried down-stairs +and communicated the good news to Joe. She went in search of Jake, to +have a man despatched for the doctor. For the time at least all her +troubles were forgotten in her thankfulness at her lover's return to +life. Somehow, as she passed out of the house, the very sunlight +seemed to rejoice with her; the old familiar buildings had something +friendly in their bald, unyielding aspect. Even the hideous corrals +looked less like the prisons they were, and the branding forges less +cruel. But greatest wonder of all was the attitude of Jake when she +put her request before him. The giant smiled upon her and granted it +without demur. And, in her gladness, the simple child smiled back her +heartfelt thanks. But her smile was short-lived, and her thanks were +premature. + +"I'm pretty nigh glad that feller's mendin'," Jake said. "Say, he's a +man, that feller." He turned his eyes away and avoided her smiling +gaze, and continued in a tone he tried to make regretful. "Guess I was +gettin' to feel mean about him. We haven't hit it exac'ly. I allow +it's mostly temper between us. Howsum, I guess it can't be helped +now--now he's goin'." + +"Going?" the girl inquired. But she knew he would be going, only she +wondered what Jake meant. + +"Sure," the foreman said, with a sudden return to his usual manner. +"Say, your father's up against him good and hot. I've seen Julian +Marbolt mad--madder'n hell; but I ain't never seen him jest as mad as +he is against your beau. When Tresler gits right he's got to +quit--quick. I've been wonderin' what's fixed your father like that. +Guess you ain't been crazy enough to tell him that Tresler's been +sparkin' you?" + +The girl's smile died out, and her pretty eyes assumed a look of stony +contempt as she answered with spirit. And Jake listened to her reply +with a smile on his bold face that in no wise concealed his desire to +hurt her. + +"Whatever happens Mr. Tresler doesn't leave our house until Doc. Osler +gives the word. Perhaps it will do you good to further understand that +the doctor will not give that word until I choose." + +"You're a silly wench!" Jake exclaimed angrily. Then he became +scornful. "I don't care that much for Tresler, now." Nevertheless he +gave a vicious snap with his fingers as he flicked them in the air. "I +wish him well enough. I have reason to. Let him stay as long as you +can keep him. Yes, go right ahead an' dose him, an' physic him; an' +when he's well he's goin', sure. An' when he's out of the way maybe +you'll see the advantage o' marryin' me. How's that, heh? There, +there," he went on tauntingly, as he saw the flushing face before him, +and the angry eyes, "don't get huffed, though I don't know but what +you're a daisy-lookin' wench when you're huffed. Get right ahead, +milady, an' fix the boy up. Guess it's all you'll ever do for him." + +Diane had fled before the last words came. She had to, or she would +have struck the man. She knew, only too well, how right he was about +Tresler; but this cruelty was unbearable, and she went back to the +sick-room utterly bereft of the last shadow of the happiness she had +left it with. + +The doctor came, and brought with him a measure of comfort. He told +her there was nothing to be considered now but the patient's weakness, +and the cleansing of the wound. In his abrupt manner he suggested a +diet, and ordered certain physic, and finally departed, telling her +that as her room adjoined her patient's there would be no further need +of sitting up at night. + +And so three weeks passed; three weeks of rapid convalescence for +Tresler, if they were spent very much otherwise by many of the +settlers in the district. Truth to tell, it was the stormiest time +that the country had ever known. The check the night-riders had +received at Willow Bluff had apparently sent them crazy for revenge, +which they proceeded to take in a wholly characteristic manner. +Hitherto their depredations had been comparatively far apart, +considerable intervals elapsing between them, but now four raids +occurred one after the other. The police were utterly defied; cattle +were driven off, and their defenders shot down without mercy. These +monsters worked their will whithersoever they chose. The sheriff +brought reinforcements up, but with no other effect than to rouse the +discontent of the ranchers at their utter failure. It seemed as though +the acts of these rustlers was a direct challenge to all authority. A +reign of terror set in, and settlers, who had been in the country for +years, declared their intention of getting out, and seeking a place +where, if they had to pay more for their land, they would at least +find protection for life and property. + +Such was the position when Tresler found himself allowed to move about +his room, and sit in a comfortable armchair in the delightful sunlight +at his open window. Nor was he kept in ignorance of the doings of the +raiders. Diane and he discussed them ardently. But she was careful to +keep him in ignorance of everything concerning herself and her father. +He knew nothing of the latter's objection to his presence in the +house, and he knew nothing of the blind man's threats, or that fearful +attack he had perpetrated in one of his fits of mad passion. + +These days, so delightful to them both, so brimful of happiness for +him, so fraught with such a blending of pain and sweetness for her, +had stolen along almost uncounted, unheeded. But like all such +overshadowed delights, their end came swiftly, ruthlessly. + +The signal was given at the midday meal. The rancher, who had never +mentioned Tresler's name since that memorable night, rose from the +table to retire to his room. At the door he paused and turned. + +"That man, Tresler," he said, in his smooth, even tones. "He's well +enough to go to the bunkhouse. See to it." + +And he left the girl crushed and helpless. It had come at last. She +knew that she could keep her lover no longer at her side. Even Doc. +Osler could not help her, and, besides, if she refused to obey, her +father would not have the slightest compunction in attending to the +matter in his own way. + +So it was with a heavy heart she took herself up-stairs for the +afternoon. This _tête-à-tête_ had become their custom every day; she +with her sewing, and the sick man luxuriating in a pipe. Tresler was +still bandaged, but it was only lightly, for the wound was almost +healed. + +The girl took up her position as usual, and Tresler moved his chair +over beside the little table she laid her work on, and sat facing her. +He loved to gaze upon the sad little face. He loved to say things to +her that would rouse it from its serious caste, and show him the +shadows dispelled, and the pretty smile wreathing itself in their +stead. And he had found it so easy too. The simplicity, the honesty, +the single-mindedness of this prairie flower made her more than +susceptible to girlish happiness, even amidst her troublous +surroundings. But he knew that these moments were all too passing, +that to make them enduring he must somehow contrive to get her away +from that world of brutality to a place where she could bask, +surrounded by love and the sunshine of a happy home. And during the +days of his convalescence he planned and plotted for the consummation +of his hopes. + +But he found her more difficult to-day. The eyes were a shade more +sad, and the smile would not come to banish the shadows. The sweet +mouth, too, always drooping slightly at the corners, seemed to droop +more than usual to-day. He tried, in vain, every topic that he thought +would interest her, but at last himself began to experience the +depression that seemed to weigh so desperately on her. And strangely +enough this dispiriting influence conjured up in his mind a morbid +memory, that until then had utterly escaped him. It was the dream he +had the night before his awakening. And almost unconsciously he spoke +of it. + +"You remember the day I woke to find myself here, Danny?" he said. "It +just occurs to me now that I wasn't unconscious all the time before. I +distinctly remember dreaming. Perhaps I was only asleep." + +The girl shook her head. + +"You were more than asleep," she said portentously. + +"Anyhow, I distinctly remember a dream I had. I should say it was +'nightmare.' It was about your father. He'd got me by the throat, +and--what's the matter?" + +Diane started, and, to Tresler's alarm, looked like fainting; but she +recovered at once. + +"Nothing," she said, "only--only I can't bear to think of that time, +and then--then--father strangling you! Don't think of your dream. +Let's talk of something else." + +Tresler's alarm abated at once; he laughed softly and leant forward +and kissed her. + +"Our future--our little home. Eh, dearest?" he suggested tenderly. + +She returned his embrace and made a pitiful attempt to smile back into +the eyes which looked so eagerly into hers. And now, for the first +time, her lover began to understand that there really was something +amiss with her. It was that look, so wistful, so appealing, that +roused his apprehension. He pressed her to tell him her trouble, +until, for sheer misery, she could keep it from him no longer. + +"It's nothing," she faltered, with trembling lips. + +Watching her face with a lover's jealousy he kept silence, for he knew +that her first words were only her woman's preliminary to something +she considered serious. + +"Jack," she said presently, settling all her attention upon her work, +"you've never asked me anything about myself. Isn't that unusual? +Perhaps you are not interested, or perhaps"--her head bent lower over +her work--"you, with your generous heart, are ready to take me on +trust. However," she went on, before he could interrupt her, "I intend +to tell you what you refuse to ask. No," as he leant forward and +kissed her again, "now sit up and light your pipe. There are to be no +interruptions like that." + +She smiled wistfully and gently pushed him back into his chair. + +"Now," she began, as he settled himself to listen, "I must go back +such a long, long way. Before I was born. Father was a sea captain +then. First the captain of a whaler, afterward he bought a ship of his +own and traded round the East Indies. He often used to talk of those +days, not because he had any desire to tell me of them, but it seemed +to relieve him when he was in a bad temper. I don't know what his +trade was, but I think it was of an exciting nature. He often spoke of +the risks, which, he said, were amply compensated by the money he +made." Tresler smiled gravely. "And father must have made a lot of +money at that time, for he married mother, bought himself a fine house +and lands just outside Kingston, in Jamaica, and, I believe, he kept a +whole army of black servants. Yes, and he has told me, not once, but +a hundred times, that he dates all his misfortunes from the day he +married my mother, which always seems unfair to her anyway. Somehow I +can never think of father as ever having been a kind man, and I've no +doubt that poor mother had anything but an easy time of it with him. +However, it is not for me to criticize." She paused, but went on +almost immediately. "Let me see, it was directly after the honeymoon +that he went away on his last trading trip. He was to call at Java. +Jake was his mate, you know, and they were expecting to return in six +months' time with a rich harvest of what he calls 'Black Ivory.' I +think it was some native manufacture, because he had to call at the +native villages. He told me so. But the trip was abandoned after three +weeks at sea. Father was stricken down with yellow fever. And from +that day to this he has never seen the light of day." + +The girl pushed her work aside and went on drearily. + +"When he recovered from the fever he was brought home, as he said +himself, 'a blind hulk.' Mother nursed him back to health and +strength, but she could not restore his sight. I am telling you these +things just as I have gleaned them from him at such moments as he +chose to be communicative. I imagine, too, from the little things he +sometimes let fall when he was angry, that all this time he lived in a +state of impotent fury against all the world, against God, but +particularly against the one person to whom he should have been most +grateful--mother. All his friends deserted him in consequence of his +bitter temper--all, that is, except Jake. At last in desperation, he +conceived the idea of going to Europe. At first mother was going with +him, but though he was well able to afford the additional expense he +begrudged it, and, changing his mind, decided to go alone. He sold his +ship, settled his affairs, and went off, and for three years he +traveled round Europe, visiting every eye-doctor of note in all the +big capitals. But it was all no good, and he returned even more soured +than he went away. It was during his absence that I was born." + +Again Diane paused. This time it was some moments before she +proceeded. + +"To add to his troubles," she at last resumed, in a low tone, "mother +was seriously ill when he got back, and, the day of his return, died +in his presence. After that, whatever his disposition was before, it +seems to have become a thousand times worse. And when he is angry now +he takes a painful delight in discussing the hatred and abhorrence all +the people of Kingston held him in, and the hatred and abhorrence he +returns to mankind in general. By his own accounts he must have been +terrible. However, this has nothing to do with our history. +Personally, I remember nothing but this ranch, but I understand that +he tried to resume his old trade in the Indies. For some reason this +failed him; trouble occurred, and he gave it up for good, and came out +to this country and settled here. Again, to quote his words, 'away +from men and things that drove him distracted.' That," she finished +up, "is a brief sketch of our history." + +"And just such a story as I should imagine your father had behind him. +A most unhappy one," Tresler observed quietly. But he was marveling at +the innocence of this child who failed to realize the meaning of +"black ivory." + +For a little while there was a silence between them, and both sat +staring out of the window. At last Diane turned, and when she spoke +again there was an ominous quivering of the lips. + +"Jack," she said, "I have not told you this without a purpose." + +"No, I gathered that, dear," he returned. "And this profound purpose?" +he questioned, smiling. + +Her answer was a long time in coming. What she had to do was so hard. + +"Father doesn't like you," she said at last in desperation. + +Tresler put his pipe aside. + +"It doesn't seem to me he likes anybody very much, unless it's Jake. +And I wouldn't bet a pile on the affection between them." + +"He likes Jake better than anybody else. At least he trusts him." + +"Which is a fair equivalent in his case. But what makes you think he +dislikes me more than most people?" + +"You remember that night in the kitchen, when you asked me to----" + +"Marry? Yes. Could I ever forget it?" + +Tresler had taken possession of one of the small hands lying in the +girl's lap, but she gently withdrew it. + +"I was weeping, and--and you saw the bruises on my arms. Father +disapproved of my talking to you----" + +"Ah! I understand." And he added, under his breath, "The brute!" + +"He says I must give you up." + +Tresler was looking straight before him at the window. Now he turned +slowly and faced her. His expression conveyed nothing. + +"And you?" + +"Oh, it is so hard!" Diane burst out, in distress. "And you make it +harder. Yes," she went on miserably, "I have to give you up. I must +not marry you--dare not----" + +"Dare not?" + +The question came without the movement of a muscle. + +"Yes, he says so. Oh, don't you see? He is blind, and I--I am his +only--oh, what am I saying?" + +Tresler shook his head. + +"I'm afraid you are saying a lot of--nonsense, little woman. And what +is more, it is a lot of nonsense I am not going to take seriously. Do +I understand that you are going to throw me over simply because he +tells you to?" + +"Not only because of that." + +"Who told him about us?" + +"I don't know." + +"Never mind. Perhaps I can guess. You have grown tired of me already?" + +"You know I haven't, Jack." + +Diane put out a hand and gently laid it on one of his. But his +remained unresponsive. This sudden awakening from his dream of love +had more than startled him. It had left him feeling resentful against +somebody or something; at present he was not sure who or what. But he +meant to have it out, cost what it might. + +"That's all right, then," he said. "Now, tell me this other reason." +Suddenly he leant forward and looked down into her eyes. His hands, +now thin and delicate, held hers tightly in a passionate clasp, and +his face was alight with the truth and sincerity of his love. +"Remember," he said, "this is no child's play, Danny. I am not the man +to give you up easily. I am weak, I know; but I've still got a fight +in me, and so long as I am assured of your love, I swear nothing shall +part us. I love you as I have never loved anybody in my life--and I +just want only you. Now tell me this other reason, dear." + +But Diane still hesitated. Her evident distress wrung her lover's +heart. He realized now that there was something very serious behind it +all. He had never beheld anything so pitiful as the look with which +she turned toward him, and further tried to put him off. + +"Father says you are to leave this house to-day. Afterward you will be +turned off the ranch. It is only through the sheriff backing the +doctor's orders that you were not turned out of here before." + +Tresler made no response for a moment. Then he burst out into a hard, +mirthless laugh. + +"So!" he exclaimed, his laugh dying abruptly. "Listen to me. Your +father can turn me out of this house--though I'll save him that +trouble--but he can't turn me off this ranch. My residence here is +bought and paid for for three years. The agreement is signed and +sealed. No, no, let him try another bluff." Then his manner changed to +one of gentle persuasion. "But you have not come to the real reason, +little one. Out with it. It is a bitter plum, I can tell. Something +which makes you dread not only its consequences, but--something else. +Tell it me, Danny. Whatever it is you may be sure of me. My love for +you is unalterable. Believe me, nothing shall come between us." + +His voice was infinitely tender, and its effect on Diane was to set +two great tears rolling down her cheeks as she listened. He had driven +her to a corner, and there was no escape. But even so she made one +more effort to avoid her shameful disclosure. + +"Will--will you not take me at my word, Jack?" she asked imploringly. + +"Not in this, dearest," he replied. + +He spoke inexorably, but with such a world of love in his voice that +the long-pent tears came with a rush. He let her weep. He felt it +would do her good. And, after a while, when her sobs had ceased, he +urged her again. + +"Tell me," he whispered. + +"I----" + +The man waited with wonderful patience. + +"Oh, don't--don't make me!" she cried. + +"Yes, I must." + +And at last her answer came in the faintest of whispers. + +"I--I--father is--is only my legal father. He was away three years. I +was born three days before he returned." + +"Well, well." Tresler sat quite still for a moment while the simple +girl sat cowering under the weight of her mother's shame. Then he +suddenly reached out and caught her in his arms. "Why, Danny," he +cried, pressing her to him, "I never felt so happy over anything in my +life as the fact that Julian Marbolt is not your father." + +"But the shame of it!" cried the girl, imagining that her lover had +not fully understood. + +"Shame? Shame?" he cried, holding her still tighter in his arms. +"Never let me hear that word on your lips again. You are the truest, +sweetest, simplest child in the world. You are mine, Danny. My very +own. And I tell you right here that I've won you and will hold you to +my last dying day." + +Now she was kneeling beside him with her face pillowed on his breast, +sobbing in the joy of her relief and happiness. And Tresler kissed her +softly, pressing his cheek many times against the silky curls that +wreathed about her head. Then, after a while, he sat looking out of +the window with a hard, unyielding stare. Weak as he was, he was ready +to do battle with all his might for this child nestling so trustfully +in his arms. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +HOT UPON THE TRAIL + + +The most welcome thing that had happened to the men on the ranch for +many a long day was Tresler's return to the bunkhouse. He was hailed +with acclamation. Though he had found it hard to part with Diane under +the doubtful circumstances, there was some compensation, certainly +gratification, in the whole-hearted welcome of his rough comrades. It +was not the effusion they displayed, but the deliberateness of their +reception of him, that indexed their true feelings. Teddy Jinks +refused to serve out the supper hash until Tresler had all he +required. Lew Cawley washed out a plate for him, as a special favor; +and Raw Harris, pessimist as he was, and who had a way of displaying +the fact in all the little every-day matters of life, cleaned and +sharpened a knife for him by prodding it up to the hilt in the +hard-beaten earth, and cleaned the prongs of a fork with the edge of +his buckskin shirt. But he could not thus outrage his principles +without excusing himself, which he did, to the effect that he guessed +"invalid fellers need onusual feedin'." Jacob Smith, whose habit it +was to take his evening meals seated at the foot of the upright log +which served as part of the door casing, and which contact with his +broad, buckskin-covered shoulders had polished till it shone +resplendently, renounced his coveted position in the invalid's favor. +Tresler was a guest of honor, for whom, on this one occasion at least, +nothing was too good. And in this position Arizona supported him, +cursing the flies that fell into his friend's pannikin of tea, and +hooking them out with the point of his hash-besmeared knife as he sat +on his log beside him. Joe, too, had come down specially to share the +meal, but he, being a member of the household, was very small fry at +the bunkhouse. + +And Tresler delighted in the kindness thus showered on him. The +freedom from the sick-room did him good; the air was good to breathe, +the plain, wholesome food was good; but most of all those bronzed, +tough faces around him seemed to put new life and vigor into his +enfeebled frame. He realized that it was high time that he was at work +again. + +And there was lots for him to hear. Every man among them had something +to add to the general hash of events, and in their usual way proceeded +to ladle it out without regard for audience, contradicting, +interrupting, cursing, until the unfortunate man who was the butt of +their remarks found himself almost overpowered by the babel. + +At length Arizona drew them up with one of his sudden "yanks." + +"Say," he cried, his eyes glaring fiercely and embracing the whole +party with a great, comprehensive roll, "you fellers is like a crowd +o' coyotes around a bone. I 'lows Tresler ain't an a'mighty deal +better'n a bone about now, but his lugs ain't deef. Y're jest a +gorl-darned lot o' oneddicated hoboes." + +Which attack had the effect of reducing the pandemonium, but in no way +suppressing the ardent spirits of the party. It acted as a challenge, +which Jacob Smith promptly took up. + +"Say, boys," he cried, "we're goin' to git eddication from Arizona!" + +His remark was followed by a derisive roar of laughter at Arizona's +expense. But the moment it had subsided the derided one shot out his +retort. + +"Guess ther's things and critturs down our country we don't never +figger to eddicate--them's hogs." + +"Fer the reason which they knows more'n you," returned Jacob, in no +way worried by the personality. + +The boys considered the point achieved by Jacob, and another laugh at +Arizona's expense went up. He had stumped the cowpuncher, who now +entered the fight with wonderfully good-natured zest. + +"Say," he observed, "I ain't had a heap to do wi' your folks, Jacob, +but I'm guessin' ef you're talkin' Gospel, things don't run in your +fam'ly." + +"Call him a hog right out, Arizona," put in Raw, lazily. + +"I ain't callin' Jacob no hog; et 'ud be a nasty trick--on the hog," +observed the ready-tongued man. + +"Hallo, Jacob!" cried Lew, as the laugh turned on the other man this +time. + +But Arizona resented the interference, and rounded on him promptly. + +"Say, you passon feller, I ain't heerd tell as it's the ways o' your +country to butt in an' boost folk on to a scrap. It's gener'ly sed +you're mostly ready to do the scrappin'." + +"Which means?" Lew grinned in his large way. + +"Wal, it mostly means--let's hear from you fust hand." + +"It's not much use hearing from me on the subject of hogs. They aren't +great on 'em in my country. Besides, you seem quite at home with 'em." + +Arizona sprang to his feet, and, walking over to the hulking form of +the parson's son, held his hand out. + +"Shake," he said, with a grin that drew his parchment-like skin into +fierce wrinkles; "we live in the same shack." + +Lew laughed with the rest, and when it died down observed-- + +"Look here, Arizona, when you get talking 'hog' you stand alone. The +whole Northwest bows to you on that subject. Now go and sit down like +a peaceable citizen, and remember that a man who is such a master in +the craft of hog-raising, who has lived with 'em, bred 'em, fed on +'em, and whose mental vision is bounded by 'em, has no right to down +inoffensive, untutored souls like ourselves. It isn't generous." + +Arizona stood. He looked at the man; then he glanced at each face +around him and noted the smiles. One hand went up to his long, black +hair and he scratched his head, while his wild eyes settled themselves +on Tresler's broadly grinning features. Suddenly he walked back to his +seat, took up his dish of hash and continued his supper, making a +final remark as he ate. + +"Langwidge? Gee! I pass." + +And during the rest of the meal "hog" found no place. They discussed +the topic of the day threadbare. The night-riders filled their +thoughts to the exclusion of all else, and Tresler learned the details +of their recent exploits, and the opinion of each man on the outrages. +Even Teddy Jinks, youthful and only "slushy" as he was, was listened +to, so absorbed were these men in their cattle world. + +"It's my belief," that reedy youth said, with profound finality, +"they're working fer a bust up. I'd gamble one o' Arizona's hogs to a +junk o' sow-belly ther' ain't no more of them rustlers around come the +fall. Things is hot, an' they're goin' to hit the trail, takin' all +they ken get right now." + +It was good to be listening to the rough talk of these fellows again. +So good that Tresler prolonged this, his first meal with them after +such a long absence, to the last possible minute. Then he reluctantly +filled his pipe, put away his plate and pannikin, and strolled over to +the barn in company with Arizona. He went to inspect his mare; he was +fond and justly proud of her. With all her vagaries of temper she was +a wonderful beast. Arizona had told him how she had brought both of +them into the ranch from Willow Bluff on that memorable night. + +"Guess it's a real pity that sheriff feller hadn't got her when he hit +Red Mask's trail," observed Arizona, while he watched Tresler gently +pass his hands over each leg in turn. "Clean, eh?" he asked presently. + +"Yes. The limbs of a race-horse. Has she been ridden while I've been +sick?" + +"Nope; she's jest stood guzzlin' oats." + +"I shall have a time when I get into the saddle again." + +They moved out and stood at the door in full view of the house. The +evening was drawing in. The sun was on the horizon, and the purple +night shades were rising out over the eastern sky. + +"Arizona," Tresler said a little later, "I've got an unpleasant task +before me. I've just seen Marbolt pass the window of his den. I want a +few words with him. I think I'll go now." + +"'Bout the leddy?" inquired the cowpuncher. + +"You've struck it." + +"Wal, git right along. I'd sooner it wus you than me, I guess. Howsum, +I'll set right hyar. Mebbe I'll be handy ef you're wantin' me." + +Tresler laughed. "Oh, it's all right," he said. "I'm not dealing with +Jake." + +"Nope," replied the other, settling himself on a saddle-tree. Then, +after a thoughtful pause, "which is regret'ble." + +Tresler walked away in the direction of the house. He was weak, and +did the journey slowly. Nor did he feel comfortable. However, he was +doing what he knew to be right, and, as he ruefully reminded himself, +it was seldom pleasant to do one's duty. His object was simply a +matter of form, but one which omitted would give Marbolt reason for +saying things. Besides, in justice to Danny and himself he must ask +her father's consent to their engagement. And as he thought of the +uselessness of it he laughed bitterly to himself. Did not the rancher +know? And had he not fully explained his views on the matter? + +Arizona watched Tresler wabbling unsteadily toward the house and +applied many mental epithets of an uncomplimentary nature on his +"foolheadedness." Then he was joined by Joe, who had also observed +Tresler's visit. + +The little man waved a hand in the direction of the retreating figure. + +"Wher's he goin'?" he asked. + +"Guess it's 'bout the leddy," replied Arizona, shortly. + +"An' he wus boosted out 'cause of her," the other said significantly. +"Kind o' minds you of one o' them terriers." + +"Yup. Or a cow wi' a ca'f." + +"On'y he don't make no fuss. Guess it's a terrier." + +And Joe accompanied his final decision with an emphatic nod. + +Meanwhile the object of their remarks had made his way to the house +and stood before the blind arbiter of his fate in the latter's little +office. The rancher was sitting at his table with his face directed +toward the window, and his red eyes staring at the glowing sunset. And +so he remained, in spite of Tresler's blunt announcement of himself. + +"It is necessary for me to see you, Mr. Marbolt," he said. + +And he stood waiting for his answer. It came, after some moments, in +a tone that offered no encouragement, but was more civil than he +expected. + +"Since you say so, I suppose it is." + +Quite indifferent and certainly undaunted, Tresler proceeded-- + +"You have already been informed how matters stand between your +daughter and myself." + +"Yes." + +"I am here, then, to formally ask your consent to our engagement." + +The red eyes moved from their contemplation of the sunset, and their +dead, leech-like stare fixed itself upon the undisturbed face of the +would-be son-in-law. + +"Tresler," the man said, in a manner that left little to the +imagination, "I have only one answer for you. You have become +offensive to me on this ranch, and I shall be glad if you will remove +yourself as quickly as possible. I shall refund you the money you have +paid, and your agreement can be torn up." + +"Then you will not consider my proposal?" + +"I have already answered you." + +Tresler looked hard at the face before him. Mask-like as it was, it +yet conveyed something of the fierce temper behind it. He was glad he +saw something of it, for he felt more justified in the heat of his own +feelings. The man's words were a studied insult, and he was not one to +submit to insults from anybody. + +"I emphatically refuse, then, to remove my offensive person," he +replied, with a great assumption of calmness. "Furthermore, I will not +entertain the return of my premium. I am here for three years' +instruction, already paid for. That instruction I demand. You will +understand it is not in your power to have my offensive person removed +either legally or forcibly. The latter especially, since it would cost +you far more than you would find it pleasant to pay." + +He expected to witness one of those outbursts of fury such as the +blind man had recently displayed toward Jake in his presence. But +nothing of the kind happened. His manner remained the same. + +"I am sorry," he said, with something almost like a smile. "You drive +me to an alternative, which, if less convenient, is perhaps, on the +whole, more satisfactory. My daughter will have to go. I was prepared +for this, and have already made arrangements for her to visit certain +friends this day fortnight, for an indefinite period. You quite +understand, Tresler, you will not see her again. She will remain away +until you leave here. Of course, in the meantime, should you take it +into your head to follow her, you are clear-headed enough to see that +your agreement with me would be broken. Then she would return at once, +and the question of force to keep you apart would be entirely in my +hands. Further, I must tell you that while she is away she will be +living in an obscure settlement many miles from here, where all +letters addressed to her will be opened before she receives them." + +The blind man turned away, indicating that the interview was ended, +but Tresler stood his ground, though he fully realized how thoroughly +this man had outwitted him. + +"At least she will be happier away from here," he said significantly. + +"I don't know," retorted the other, with diabolical meaning. + +Tresler's exasperation could no longer be restrained. "Your conduct is +inhuman to thus persecute a helpless girl, your daughter." + +"Ah, my daughter. Yes?" + +But the other gave no heed to the sneer. "You have no right to stand +between us," he went on angrily. "You have no reasonable grounds. I +tell you straight I will not submit. When your daughter is of age I +will take her from this home, which is no home to her, from you who +have never been a father to her." + +"True," assented the other, with an aggravating calmness. + +"You will have no power to interfere then. The law----" + +"Enough of this nonsense," the rancher interrupted, with his first +sign of impatience. "You'll never marry Diane while I live. Take it +from me. Now--get out!" + +And somehow, in spite of himself, Tresler found himself outside the +house and moving in the direction of the bunkhouse at the most rapid +pace his weakness permitted. But before he reached his destination +Jake intercepted him, and he had little doubt in his mind that the man +had seen him go to the house and had waited for his return. + +"Wal?" he said, drawling out his inquiry, as though the contemplation +of the answer he would receive gave him more than ordinary +satisfaction. "Guess blind hulks is a pretty hard man to deal with, +eh? You're goin' to quit us?" + +Tresler was in no mood for this man's sneers. "No," he said. "On the +contrary, I stay till my time's out." + +Jake could not conceal his surprise and chagrin. "You ain't quittin'?" + +"No." Tresler really enjoyed his discomfiture. + +"An' you're goin'----" + +"No." A thought suddenly occurred to him. He could hand something on +to this man. "Miss Marbolt is going to be sent away until such time as +I leave this ranch. Nearly three years, Jake," he finished up +maliciously. + +Jake stood thoughtfully contemplating the other's shrunken figure. He +displayed no feeling, but Tresler knew he had hit him hard. + +"An' she's goin', when?" he asked at last. + +"This day fortnight." + +"Ah. This day fortnight." + +After that Jake eyed his rival as though weighing him up in his mind +along with other things; then he said quietly-- + +"Guess he'd best have sent her right now." And, with this enigmatical +remark, he abruptly went back to his shack. + +A week saw Tresler in the saddle again. His recuperative powers were +wonderful. And his strength returned in a manner which filled his +comrades with astonishment. Fresh air and healthy work served as far +better tonics than anything the horse-doctor had given him. + +And the week, at least to Tresler, was full of portent. True, the +rustlers had been quiet, but the effect of their recent doings was +very apparent. The sheriff was now in constant communication with the +ranch. Fyles visited Julian Marbolt frequently, holding long +consultations with him; and a significant fact was that his men made +the place a calling station. He realized that the long arm of the law +was seriously at work, and he wondered in what direction the real +object lay, for he quite understood that these open movements, in all +probability, cloaked the real suspicions. Both he and Joe were of +opinion that the sheriff was acting on some secret information, and +they puzzled their heads to fathom the depths of the wily officer's +motives. + +Then happened something that Tresler had been expecting for some time. +He had not seen Fyles to speak to since the Willow Bluff incident, and +this had caused him some wonder. Therefore, one day while out on a +distant pasture, rounding up a small bunch of yearlings, he was in no +way surprised to see the farmer-like figure of the sheriff appear over +the brow of a rising ground, and canter his raw-boned horse down +toward him. + +And that meeting was in the nature of an eye-opener to Tresler. He +learned something of the machinery that was at work; of the system of +espionage that was going on over the whole district, and the subtle +means of its employment. He learned, amongst other things, something +of what Jake was doing. How he was in constant touch with a number of +half-breeds of the most disreputable type, and that his doings were of +the most underground nature. He also learned that his own personal +efforts in conveying warning before Willow Bluff were more than +appreciated, and, finally, that Fyles wanted him to further act in +concert with him. + +Acceding to the officer's request he was then informed of certain +other things for his future guidance. And when the man had gone, +disappearing again over the rising ground, in the same ghostly fashion +that he had appeared, he looked after him, and, in reviewing all he +had heard, marveled how little he had been told, but what a lot had +been suggested, and how devilish smart that farmer-like man, in spite +of his recent failures, really was. + +And during those days Tresler heard very little from Diane; which +little came from Joe Nelson. Now and again she sent him a +grief-stricken note alluding to her departure. She told him, although +Joe had done so already, that her father had brought Anton into the +house for the express purpose of preventing any communication with +him, Tresler, and to generally keep sentry over her. She told him much +that made his heart bleed for her, and made him spend hours at night +writing pages of cheering messages to her. There was no help for it. +He was powerless to do more than try to console her, and he frequently +found himself doubting if the course he had selected was the right +one; if he were not aggravating her position by remaining on the +ranch. His reason told him that it was surely best. If she had to go +away, she would, at least, be free of Jake, and, no matter what +condition the people to whom she was to be sent, no worse associations +than the combination of the blind man and his mate could possibly be +found for her anywhere. + +It was a poor sort of consolation with which he bolstered himself, and +he spent many miserable hours during those last few days. Once he had +said to Joe, "If I could only see her for a few minutes it might be +some measure of comfort to us both." But Joe had shaken his gray head. +"It ain't no use," he said. "You can't take no chances foolin' wi' +Anton around. 'Sides, things might be wuss," he finished up, with a +considerable emphasis. + +And so Tresler had to be content; ill at ease, chafing, but quite +powerless. In truth the rancher had outwitted him with a vengeance; +moreover, what he had said he soon showed that he meant, for Joe +brought him the news, two days before the date fixed for departure, +that Diane was making her preparations, and had even begun to pack up. + +And all this time Jake was very cheerful. The men on the ranch never +remembered an easier time than the foreman was giving them now. He +interfered very little with the work, and, except at the morning +muster, they hardly saw anything of him. Tresler he never came near. +He seemed to have forgotten that he had ever discussed Anton with him. +It may have been that that discussion had only been inspired on the +impulse of the moment, or it may have been--and Tresler thought this +far more likely--he had deeper plans. However, the man, in face of +Diane's departure, was unusually cheerful, and the wise old Joe +quickly observed the fact. + +For Joe to observe anything of interest was the cue for him to inquire +further, and thus he set himself to watch Jake. And his watching +quickly resulted in Tresler's attention being called to Jake's +movements at night. Joe found that night after night Jake left the +ranch, always on foot, but he left it for hours at a time. Twice +during the last week he did not return until daylight. All this was +more than interesting, but nothing developed to satisfy their +curiosity until the last day of Diane's stay on the ranch. Then Jake +visited her, and, taking her out of the kitchen, had a long +confabulation with her in the open. Joe watched them, but, much to his +disgust, had no means of learning the man's object. However, there was +only one thing for him to do, and he did it without delay: he hurried +down to convey his news to Tresler, who was having supper at the +bunkhouse. + +Taking him on one side he imparted his tidings hurriedly. And in +conclusion spoke with evident alarm. + +"Ther's suthin' doin'," he said, in, for him, quite a condition of +excitement. "I can't locate it nohow. But Jake, he's that queer. See, +he's jest gone right into his shack. Ther's suthin' doin', sure." + +"And didn't you ask her what it was all about?" asked Tresler, +catching something of the other's manner. + +"Wal, no. That is, I guess I mentioned it like, but Miss Dianny wus +that flustrated an' kind o' angry she jest went right up to her room, +an' I thought best to git around hyar." + +Tresler was thinking hard; and while he thought he stood watching the +door where they had both seen Jake disappear. It occurred to him to go +and seek Diane for himself. Poor girl, she would surely tell him if +there were anything wrong. After all, he had the right to know. Then +he thought of Anton. + +"Was Anton----?" + +He had turned to Joe, but his remark was cut short. Jake's door +suddenly opened and the foreman came hurriedly out. Joe caught his +companion by the arm, and they both looked after the giant as he +strode away toward the barn. And they simultaneously became aware of +something unsteady in his gait. Joe was the first to draw attention to +it. + +"Say, he's bin drinkin'," he whispered, in an awed manner. + +Tresler nodded. This was something quite new. Jake, with all his +faults, was not usually given to drink. On the contrary, he was a +particularly sober man. + +Tresler swiftly made up his mind. "I'm going to see what's up, Joe," +he said. "Do you see? He's making for Marbolt's stable." + +It was almost dusk. The men had settled down to their evening's +occupations. Tresler and Joe were standing alone in the shadow of the +bunkhouse wall. The lamp was lit within the building, and the glow +from the window, which was quite near them, darkened the prospect +still further. However, Tresler still could see the foreman, an +indistinct shadow in the growing darkness. + +Leaving his companion without further remark he hurried after the +disappearing man and took up his position near the barn, whence he +could both see and hear what might be going forward. + +Jake reached the door of the stable and knocked on it in a forceful +and peremptory manner. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +BY THE LIGHT OF THE LAMP + + +Impelled by curiosity and nervous anticipation Tresler did not long +remain in the shelter of the barn. It was too dark to see distinctly +all that way off, so he closed up on the object of his watch. He +intended to miss nothing of what was happening, so he crept out into +the open, quite careless of the chances of being discovered at his +undignified occupation. + +And all the time he was a prey to unpleasant foreboding; that +unaccountable foreboding so truly prophetic, which refuses to be +shaken off. He knew that disaster was in the air as surely as if it +had all happened, and there was nothing left for him but to gaze +impotently upon the ruin. He had a certain amount of reason for his +fears, of course, but that reason was largely speculative, and, had he +been asked to state definitely what he anticipated, on whom disaster +was to fall, he could not have answered with any real conviction. +Something prompted him that Jake was to be the central figure, the +prime mover. But beyond that his ideas were vague. The man's very +summons at the door was a positive aggravation, and suggested +possibilities. + +An answer came with the abrupt opening of the stable door, which +revealed the lithe figure of the dusky half-breed, framed in a +setting of dingy yellow light from the lantern within. He could see +the insolent, upward stare of the man's eyes as he looked up into the +great man's face; nor at that moment could he help thinking of all he +had heard of "Tough" McCulloch. And the recollection brought him a +further feeling of uneasiness for the man who had thus come to beard +him in his own den. + +But even while these thoughts passed swiftly through his brain the +bullying, hectoring tones of Jake's voice came to him. They were +unnecessarily loud, and there was a thickness in them which +corroborated the evidence of his uneven gait. Jake had certainly been +priming himself with spirit. + +"Where was you last night, Anton?" he heard him ask. + +"An' wher' should I be, Mr. Jake?" came the half-breed's sullen +retort. + +"That ain't no answer," the other cried, in a vicious tone. + +The half-breed shrugged with apparent indifference, only there was no +indifference in the resentful flash of his eyes. + +"I not answer to you," he said, in his broken way, throwing as much +insolence as he could into his words. + +Jake's fury needed no urging; the spirit had wound him up to the +proper pitch. + +"You black son-of-a----," he cried, "you shall answer to me. For two +pins I'd wring your blasted neck, only I'm savin' that fer the rope. +I'll tell you wher' you was last night. You wer' out. Out with the +horses. D'you hear? And you weren't at the Breed camp neither. I know +wher' you was." + +"Guess you shoot your mouth off," Anton said, with dangerous calmness. +"Bah! I tell you I stay right hyar. I not out. You mad! Voilà!" + +Suddenly Jake's hand went up as though to strike the man, but the blow +did not fall. His arm dropped to his side again; for once caution +saved him. Tresler felt that had the blow fallen there might perhaps +have been a sudden and desperate end to the scene. As it was he +listened to Jake's final words, with every nerve throbbing. + +"You lie, you black son-of-a----; you lie!" + +And then he saw him swing round on his heel and stride away to the +rancher's house, as if he could no longer control himself and sought +safety in flight. + +For the moment the watcher was so interested in the half-breed that he +lost the significance of the foreman's going. Anton was still standing +in the doorway, and the expression of his face was plainly visible in +the lamplight. There was a saturnine grin about the lower part of the +features, but the black eyes were blazing with a deep fire of hatred. +He looked after the departing man until he reached the verandah, then +suddenly, as though an inspiration had moved him, he vanished at a run +within the stable. + +Now Tresler became aware of Jake's object. He had mounted the verandah +and was making for the door of the house. And this sight moved him to +immediate action. Without a second thought he set off at a run to +warn Diane of the visit. Why he wished to warn her he did not know. +Perhaps it was the result of premonition, for he knew quite well that +it was Jake's custom to wait on his chief at about this time in the +evening. + +He skirted the house well out of range of the light of its windows, +and came to the kitchen just in time to hear the blind man calling to +his daughter for a light. And when Diane returned from obeying the +order she found him waiting for her. Her first feeling was one of +apprehension, then love overcame her fears and she ran to him. + +"Jack!" she whispered softly. "You here?" + +He folded her in a bear-like embrace, and as she raised her face to +him to speak he stopped her with a rain of kisses. The joy of the +moment had driven the object of his coming from his head, and they +stood heart to heart, lost in their mutual happiness, until Jake's +voice, raised in bitter imprecation, reached them from the office. +Then Tresler abruptly put her from him. + +"I had forgotten, dear," he said, in a whisper. "No, don't close that +door." Diane had moved over to the door leading into the dining-room. +"Leave it open. It is on that account I am here." + +"On what account?" the girl asked, in some perplexity. + +"Jake. There's something up, and--hark!" + +They stood listening. The foreman's voice was raised again. But now +Marbolt's broke in, sharp, incisive. And the words were plainly +audible. + +"Keep your voice down," he said. "D'you want the girl to hear +everything? You were always a blunderer, Jake." + +"Blunderer be ----" But he nevertheless lowered his tone, for the +listeners could distinguish nothing more. + +"He's up to some devil's work," Tresler whispered, after making sure +they could hear no more. "Danny," he went on eagerly, "I must slip +into the hall and try and hear what's going on. I must be ready +to----Listen! He's cursing again. Wait here. Not a sound; not a word! +There's going to be trouble." + +And his assertion seemed to have reason enough, for the rancher's +sharp tones were now mingling with the harsher note of the other, and +both had raised their voices again. Tresler waited for nothing now. He +tiptoed to the door and stood listening. Then he crept silently out +into the hall and stole along toward the blind man's office. He paused +as he drew near the open door, and glanced round for some hiding-place +whence he could see within. The hall was unlit, and only the faintest +light reached it from the office. There was a long, heavy overcoat +hanging on the opposite wall, almost directly in front of the door, +and he made for it, crossing the hall in the darkest part, and sidling +along in the shadow until he reached it. Here he drew it in front of +him, so that he only elongated its outline and yet obtained a full +view of the room. + +Jake was not visible. And Tresler concluded that he was sitting in the +chair which he knew to be behind the door. But the blind man was +almost directly in front of him. He was seated beside the small +window table on which the lamp stood, a safety lamp, especially +reserved for his use on account of his blindness. His ruddy eyes were +staring in the direction in which Tresler believed Jake to be sitting, +and such was the effect of that intent stare that the watching man +drew well within his cover, as though he feared the sightless sockets +would penetrate his hiding-place. + +But even from this vantage ground he found his purpose thwarted. Jake +was talking, but his voice was so low that it only reached him in a +thick growl which blurred his words into a hazy murmur. Therefore he +fixed his attention on the man facing him, watching, and seeking +information from his expression and general attitude. + +And what he beheld riveted his attention. Whatever control the blind +man had over himself--and Tresler had reason to know what wonderful +control he had--his expression was quite unguarded now. There was a +devilish cruelty in every line in his hard, unyielding features. +His sanguinary eyes were burning with a curiously real live +light--probably the reflection of the lamp on the table--and his +habitually knit brows were scowling to an extent that the eyes beneath +them looked like sparks of living fire. And though he was lounging +comfortably back in his chair, without energy, without alertness, and +one arm was resting on the table at his side, and his outstretched +fingers were indolently drumming out a tattoo on the bare wood, his +breath was coming short and fast, in a manner that belied his +attitude. + +Had Tresler only seen behind the door he would have been startled, +even alarmed. The inflamed Jake was oblivious to everything but his +own purpose. His mind was set on the object of his talk, to the +exclusion of all else. Just then he had not the slightest fear of the +blind man. There was nothing of the submission about him now that he +had displayed once before in Tresler's presence. It was the spirit he +had imbibed that had fortified him for the time. It is probable that +Jake, at that moment, had no fear of either man or devil. + +And, though Tresler could not distinguish a word, his talk was +braggart, domineering, and there was a strong flavor of drink in its +composition. But even so, there was a relentless purpose in it, too. + +"Ther' ain't no option fer you, Marbolt," Jake was saying. "You've +never given me an option, and I'm not goin' to be such a blazing fool +as to give you one. God A'mighty, Marbolt, ther' never was a man +treated as I've been by you. We've been together fer donkey's years, I +guess. 'Way back in them old days, when we was mates, before you was +blind, before you was cranked against 'most everybody, when we +scrapped agin them black-backs in the Indies side by side, when we +quarreled an' made friends again, I liked you, Marbolt, an' I worked +honest by you. There wa'n't nothin' mean to you, then, 'cep' in +handin' out dollars. I hadn't no kick comin' those days. I worked fer +so much, an' I see I got it. I didn't ask no more, an' I guess I +didn't want. That's all right. Then you got blind an' you changed +round. That's where the rub come. I was no better than the rest to +you. You fergot everything that had gone. You fergot I was a square +dealin' man by you, an' since that time I've been dirt under your +feet. Pshaw! it ain't no use in talkin'; you know these things just as +well as I do. But you might have given me a show. You might have +treated me 'white.' It was to your interest. I'd have stayed by you. +I'd have done good by you. An' I'd have been real sorry when you died. +But I ain't no use fer that sort o' thing now. What I want I'm goin' +to have, an' you've got to give--see? It ain't a question of +'by-your-leave' now. I say right here I want your gal." + +The man paused. But Marbolt remained undisturbed. He still beat an +idle tattoo on the table, only his hand had drawn nearer to the lamp +and the steady rapping of his fingers was a shade louder, as though +more nervous force were unconsciously finding outlet in the movement. + +"So you want my girl," he said, his lips scarcely parting to let the +tone of his voice pass. + +"Ay," Jake said emphatically, "I want that gal as I took out o' the +water once. You remember. You said she'd fell overboard, after I'd +hauled her back on to the ship out o' reach o' the sharks. That's what +you said--after." + +He paused significantly. If he had expected any display from his +hearer he must have been disappointed. The other remained quite still +except for those moving fingers tapping their way nearer and nearer +the lamp. + +"Go on." + +"Wal, I've told you how I stand, an' I've told you how you stand," +Jake proceeded, with his voice ever so little raised. He felt that the +other was too easy. And, in his unimaginative way, he thought he had +spoken too gently. "An' I say again I want that gal fer my wife. Time +was when you would have been glad to be quit of her, 'bout the time +she fell overboard. Being ready to part then, why not now? I'm goin' +to get her,--an' what do I pay in return? You know. You'll go on +ranchin' in peace. I'll even stay your foreman if you so want. I'll +shut right down on the business we both know of, an' you won't have +nothin' to fear. It's a fair an' square deal." + +"A fair and square deal; most generous." + +Even Jake detected the sarcasm, and his anger rose at once. But he +gave no heed to those fingers which had now transferred their +attention to the brass body of the lamp. + +"I'm waitin' fer your answer," he said sharply. + +Tresler now heard his words for the first time. + +"Go slow, Jake, go slow," retorted the rancher. "I like to digest the +position thoroughly. You put it so well." + +The sarcasm had grown more fierce by reason of the restraint the +rancher was putting on himself. And this restraint was further evident +in the movement of the hand which had now settled itself upon the body +of the lamp, and clutched it nervously. + +Jake no longer kept check on himself. And his answer came in a roar. + +"You shall take my price, or----" + +"Keep calm, you blundering jackass!" the blind man rasped between his +clenched teeth. + +"No, you don't, Mr. blasted Marbolt!" cried Jake, springing to his +feet and moving out to the middle of the room threateningly. "No, you +don't!" he cried again; "I've had enough of that. God's curse on you +for a low swine! I'll talk no more; it's 'yes' or 'no.' Remember"--he +bent over toward the sitting man and pointed in his face with fierce +delight--"I am your master now, an' ef you don't do as I say, by +G----! but I'll make you whine for mercy." + +And Marbolt's answer came with a crash of brass and smashing of glass, +a leap of flame, then darkness, as he hurled the lamp to the floor and +extinguished it. It came in silence, but a silence ruffled by the +sound of sudden movement. It came, as was only to be expected from a +man like him, without warning, like the silent attack of a puma, and +with as deadly intent. + +Tresler could see nothing, but he knew that death was hovering over +that room for some one. Suddenly he heard the table dragged or pushed +across the floor, and Jake's voice, harsh with the effort of struggle, +reached him. + +"You would, would you? Right; it's you or me!" + +At that moment the onlooker was about to rush forward, for what +purpose he had but the vaguest idea. But even as he took the first +step he felt himself seized forcibly by the arm from behind. And +Diane's voice whispered in his ear. + +"Not you, Jack!" she said eagerly. "Leave it to me; I--I can save +him--Jake." + +"Jake?" + +"Yes." + +She was gone, and in an instant returned with the lighted kitchen +lamp, which she held aloft as she rushed into the room. + +Tresler was taken utterly by surprise. The girl's movements were so +sudden, so unexpected, and her words so strange. + +There she stood in the middle of the room with the light held above +her head like some statue. And all the signs of a deadly struggle were +about her. Jake was sheltered behind the window table, and stood +blinking in the sudden light, staring at her in blank astonishment. +But the chief figure of interest was the blind man. He was groping +about the opposite edge of the table, pitifully helpless, but snarling +in impotent and thwarted fury. His right hand was still grasping the +hilt of a vicious-looking, two-edged hunting-knife, whose point +Tresler saw was dripping blood. + +Suddenly he turned fiercely on the girl. For the moment he had been +held silent, confounded, but now his voice rang out in an access of +fury. + +"You jade!" he cried, and moved as though to attack her. + +Tresler was about to leap to her assistance, but at that instant the +man's attention was suddenly diverted. Jake saw his chance and made +for the door. With a bitter imprecation the blind man lunged at him as +he went, fell against the table, and stumbled almost to the ground. +Instantly the girl took advantage of his position and followed Jake +out, slamming the door behind her and swiftly turning the key as she +went. + +Diane had shown herself in a new light. Her presence of mind was +startling, and the whole thing was enacted so swiftly that Tresler +failed to grasp the full meaning of it all. Jake had not seen him. In +a blind rush he had made for the hall door and passed out. The only +thing that seemed real to Tresler was Diane's safety, and he caught +her by the arm to take her to the kitchen. But the girl's readiness +would permit of no such waste of time. + +"No," she whispered quickly. "Leave me and follow Jake. Joe is in the +kitchen and will protect me if need be. Quick!" she went on, stamping +her foot in her excitement. "Go! Look to him. There must be no murder +done here." + +And Tresler was forced, much against his will, to leave her. For the +moment Diane had soared to a height of alertness and ready action +which was irresistible. Without a word he went, passing out of the +front door. + +Jake had left the verandah, and, in the moonlight, Tresler could see +him moving down the hill in the direction of his shack. He followed +him swiftly. But he was too late. The whole thing happened before his +very eyes, while he was yet too far off to stay the ruthless act, +before his warning shout could serve. + +He saw a figure dart out from the rancher's stable. He saw it halt and +stand. He saw one arm stretched out, and he realized and shouted to +Jake. + +The foreman stood, turned, a pistol-shot rang out, and he fell on his +face. Tresler ran forward, but before he could reach him two more +shots rang out, and a third sent its bullet whistling past his own +head. + +He ran for the man who had fired them. He knew him now; it was Anton. +But, fleet of foot, the half-breed had reached the stable, where a +horse stood ready saddled. He saw him vault into the saddle, and he +saw him vanish into the adjacent woods. Then, at last, he gave up the +chase and ran back to the fallen man. + +Kneeling at his side he raised the great leonine head. The man was +alive, and he shouted to the men at the bunkhouse for aid. But even as +he called Jake spoke. + +"It ain't no good," he said, in a hoarse tone. "I'm done. Done up by +that lyin' son-of-a----, 'Tough' McCulloch. I might 'a' known. Guess +I flicked him sore." He paused as the sound of running feet came from +the bunkhouse and Arizona's voice was calling to know Tresler's +whereabouts. Then the foreman's great frame gave a shiver. "Quick, +Tresler," he said, in a voice that had suddenly grown faint; +"ther' ain't much time. Listen! get around Widow Dangley's +place--to-night--two--mornin' all----" + +There came a rattle of flowing blood in his throat which blurred +anything else he had to say. But he had said sufficient. Tresler +understood. + +When Arizona came up Jake, so long the bully of Mosquito Bend, had +passed over the One-Way Trail. He died shot in three places, twice in +the chest and once in the stomach. Anton, or rather "Tough" McCulloch, +had done his work with all the consummate skill for which he had once +been so notorious. And, as something of this flashed through Tresler's +brain, another thought came with it, prompted by the presence of +Arizona, who was now on his knees beside him. + +"It's Anton, Arizona," he said. "Jake riled him. He shot him, and has +bolted through the wood, back there, mounted on one of Marbolt's +horses. He's making for the hills. Quick, here, listen! the others are +coming. You know 'Tough' McCulloch?" + +"Wal?" There was an ominous ring in Arizona's voice. + +"You'd like to find him?" + +"Better'n heaven." + +"Anton is 'Tough' McCulloch." + +"Who told you?" + +"Jake, here. I didn't mention it before, because--because----" + +"Did you say the hills?" + +Arizona had risen to his feet. There was no emotion in his manner. +They might have been discussing the most ordinary topic. Now the rest +of the men crowded round. And Tresler heard the rancher's voice +calling from the verandah to inquire into the meaning of the shots. +However, heedless of the others, he replied to the cowpuncher's +question. + +"Yes," he said. + +"Shake. S'long." + +The two men gripped and Arizona faded away in the uncertain light, in +the direction of the barn. + +And the dead Jake was borne by rough but gentle hands into his own +shack. And there was not one amongst those "boys" but would have been +ready and eager to help him, if help had been possible. Even on the +prairie death atones for much that in life is voted intolerable. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +AT WIDOW DANGLEY'S + + +Inside the hut, where Jake had so long been master, the boys were +grouped round the bunk on which their old oppressor was laid out; the +strong, rough fellows were awed with the magnitude of the outrage. +Jake, Jake Harnach, the terror of the ranch, "done up." The thought +was amazing. Tresler was quietly stripping clothes from the dead man's +upper body to free the wounds for the doctor's inspection, and Raw +Harris was close beside him. It was while in the midst of this +operation that the former came upon another wound. Raw Harris also saw +it, and at once drew his attention. + +"Guess I heerd four shots," he said. "Say, that feller Anton was a +daddy. Four of 'em, an' all found their mark. I 'lows this one's on'y +a graze. Might 'a' bin done wi' a knife, et's so clean. Yes, sirree, +he was a daddy, sure." + +As no one seemed inclined to contradict the statement that Anton was a +"daddy," and as the question of four shots or three was of no vital +interest to the onlookers, the matter passed unheeded. Only Tresler +found food for reflection. That fourth wound he knew had not been +inflicted by the half-breed. He remembered the rancher's knife and +its dripping point, and he remembered Jake's cry, "You would, would +you!" He needed no other explanation. + +While the two men were still bending over their task there was a +slight stir at the open door. The silent onlookers parted, leaving a +sort of aisle to the bedside, and Julian Marbolt came shuffling his +way through them, heralded by the regular tap, tap, of his guiding +stick. + +It was with many conflicting emotions that Tresler looked round when +he heard the familiar sound. He stared at the man as he might stare at +some horrid beast of prey, fascinated even against himself. It would +have been hard to say what feeling was uppermost with him at the +moment. Astonishment, loathing, expectation, and even some dread, all +struggled for place, and the combination held him silent, waiting for +what that hateful presence was to bring forth. He could have found it +in his heart to denounce him then and there, only it would have served +no purpose, and would probably have done much harm. Therefore he +contented himself with gazing into the inflamed depths of the man's +mysterious eyes with an intentness he had never yet bestowed upon +them, and while he looked all the horror of the scene in the office +stole over him again and made him shudder. + +"Where is he--where is Jake?" the blind man asked, halting accurately +at the bedside. + +The question was directed at no one in particular, but Tresler took it +upon himself to answer. + +"Lying on the bed before you," he said coldly. + +The man turned on him swiftly. "Ah--Tresler," he said. + +Then he bent over the bed, and his hands groped over the dead man's +body till they came into contact with the congealing blood round the +wound in his stomach. + +With a movement of repulsion he drew back sharply. "He's not dead?" he +questioned, with a queer eagerness, turning round to those about him. + +"Yes, he is dead," replied Tresler, with unintentional solemnity. + +"Who--who did it?" + +The question came in a tense voice, sharper and more eagerly than the +preceding one. + +"Anton," chorused the men, as though finding relief from their long +silence in the announcement. The crime was even secondary to the +personality of the culprit with them. Anton's name was uppermost in +their minds, and so they spoke it readily. + +"Anton? And where is he? Have you got him?" + +The rancher had turned about, and addressed himself generally. + +"Anton has made off with one of your horses," said Tresler. "I tried +to get him, but he had too much start for me. I was on foot." + +"Well, why are you all here? Have none of you sense enough to get +after him?" + +"Arizona is after him, and, until the sheriff comes, he is sufficient. +He will never leave his trail." + +There was no mistaking the significance Tresler conveyed in his last +remark. The rancher took him up sharply. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Arizona has no love for Anton." + +"Ah! And Jake. Who found him? Who was there when he died?" + +Marbolt's eyes had fixed themselves on Tresler's face. And the latter +had no hesitation in suiting his reply to his own purpose. + +"I found him--dead; quite dead. His death must have been +instantaneous." + +"So." + +Marbolt turned back to the bed. + +The rancher stood over the dead man in silence for some minutes. Then, +to Tresler's horror, he broke out into a low-voiced lamentation, the +hypocrisy of which made him want to seize him by the throat and choke +the words ere they were uttered. + +"My poor old Jake!" he said, with infinite pity. "Poor old Jake!" he +repeated, addressing the dead man sorrowfully. "I wish now I'd taken +your advice about that rascal and got rid of him. And to think that +you should be the man on whom he was to wreak his treachery. I wonder +how it came about. It must have been that rough temper of yours. +Tresler," he cried, pointing to the still form on the bed, "there lies +the truest, the only friend I ever had. That man has stood by me when +all others left me. Yes, we've fought side by side in the Indian days; +ay, and further back still. I remember when he would have defended me +with his life; poor Jake! I suppose he had his faults, the same as +most of us have. Yes, and I wager his temper took him foul of Anton. +Poor old Jake! I suppose we shall never know the truth of this." He +paused. Then he cried fiercely, "Damn it! Men, every one of you, I'll +give a thousand dollars to the one who brings Anton back, dead or +alive. Dead from preference, then he won't escape us. A thousand +dollars. Now, who?" + +But Tresler could stand it no longer. "Don't trouble, Mr. Marbolt," he +said icily. "It is no use your offering rewards. The man who has gone +after Anton will find him. And you can rest satisfied he'll take +nothing from you on that score. You may not know Arizona; I do." + +"You are confident," the other retorted, resentful at once. + +"I have reason to be," came the decided answer. + +Marbolt shook his close-cropped head. His resentment had gone from his +manner again. He had few moods which he was unable to control at will. +That was how it seemed to Tresler. + +"I hope truly it may be as you say. But I must still doubt. However," +he went on, in a lighter tone, "in the meantime there is work to be +done. The doctor must be summoned. Send some one for doctor and +sheriff first thing to-morrow morning, Tresler. It is no use worrying +them to-night. The sheriff has his night work to do, and wouldn't +thank us for routing him out now. Besides, nothing can be done until +daylight! And the doctor is only needed to certify. Poor old Jake!" + +He turned away with something very like a sigh. Half-way to the door +he paused. + +"Tresler, you take charge of things to-night. Have this door locked. +And," he added, with redoubled earnestness, "are you sure Arizona will +hunt that man down?" + +"Perfectly." + +Tresler smiled grimly. He fancied he understood the persistence. + +There was a moment's silence. Then the stick tapped, and the rancher +passed out under the curious gaze of his men. Tresler, too, looked +after him. Nor was there any doubt of his feelings now. He knew that +his presence in the house during Marbolt's murderous assault on Jake +was unsuspected. And Marbolt, villainous hypocrite that he was, was +covering his tracks. He loathed the blind villain as he never thought +to have loathed anybody. And all through his thoughts there was a +cold, hard vein of triumph which was utterly foreign to his nature, +but which was quite in keeping with his feelings toward the man with +whom he was dealing. + +As Julian Marbolt passed out the men kept silence, and even when the +distant tapping of his stick had died away. Tresler looked round him +at these hardy comrades of his with something like delight in his +eyes. Joe was not there, which matter gave him satisfaction. The +faithful little fellow was at his post to care for Diane. Now he +turned to Harris. + +"Raw," he said, "will you ride in for the doctor?" + +"He said t'-morrer," the man objected. + +"I know. But if you'd care to do me a favor you'll ride in and warn +the doctor to-night, and then--ride out to Widow Dangley's and meet +us all there, _cachéd_ in the neighborhood." + +The man stared; every man in that room was instantly agog with +interest. Something in Tresler's tone had brought a light to their +eyes which he was glad to see. + +"What is 't?" asked Jacob, eagerly. + +"Ay," protested Raw; "no bluffin'." + +"There's no bluffing about me," Tresler said quickly. "I'm dead in +earnest. Here, listen, boys. I want you all to go out quietly, one by +one. It's eight miles to Widow Dangley's. Arrange to get there by +half-past one in the morning--and don't forget your guns. There's a +big bluff adjoining the house," he suggested significantly. "I shall +be along, and so will the sheriff and all his men. I think there'll be +a racket, and we may--there, I can tell you no more. I refrained from +asking Marbolt's permission; you remember what he said once before. +We'll not risk saying anything to him." + +"I'm in to the limit," said Raw, with decision. + +"Guess we don't want no limit to this racket. We'll jest get right +along," said Jacob, quietly. + +And after that the men filed out one by one. And when the last had +gone, Tresler put the lamp out and locked the door. Then he quietly +stole up to the kitchen and peered in at the window. Diane was there, +so was Joe, with two guns hanging to his belt. He had little +difficulty in drawing their attention. There was no dalliance about +his visit this time. He waived aside the eager questions with which +the girl assailed him, and merely gave her a quiet warning. + +"Stay up all night, dear," he said, "but do not let your father know +it." + +To Joe he said: "Joe, if you sleep a wink this night I'll never +forgive you." + +Then he hurried away, satisfied that neither would fail him, and went +to the barn. Without a word, almost without a sound, he saddled the +Lady Jezebel. + +His mare ready, he went and gazed long and earnestly up at the +rancher's house. He was speculating in his mind as to the risk he was +running. Not the general risk, but the risk of success or failure in +his enterprise. + +He waited until the last of the lights had gone out, and the house +stood out a mere black outline in the moonlight, then he disappeared +within the barn again, and presently reappeared leading his fractious +mare. A few moments later he rode quietly off. And the manner of his +going brought a grim smile to his lips, for he thought of the ghostly +movements of the night-riders as he had witnessed them. His way lay in +a different direction from that of his comrades. Instead of taking the +trail, as they had done, he skirted the upper corral and pastures, and +plunged into the black pinewoods behind the house. + + * * * * * + +The Widow Dangley's homestead looked much more extensive in the +moonlight than it really was. Everything was shown up, endowed with a +curious silvery burnish which dazzled the eyes till shadows became +magnified into buildings, and the buildings themselves distorted out +of all proportion. Hers was simply a comfortable place and quite +unpretentious. + +The ranch stood in a narrow valley, in the midst of which a small +brook gurgled its way on to the Mosquito River, about four miles +distant. The valley was one of those sharp cuttings in which the +prairie abounds, quite hidden and unmarked from the land above, lying +unsuspected until one chances directly upon it. It was much like a +furrow of Nature's ploughing, cut out to serve as a drainage for the +surrounding plains. It wound its irregular course away east and west, +a maze of undergrowth, larger bluff, low red-sand cut-banks and +crumbling gravel cliffs, all scattered by a prodigal hand, with a +profusion that seemed wanton amidst the surrounding wastes of +grass-land. + +The house stood on the northern slope, surrounded on three sides by a +protecting bluff of pinewoods. Then to the right of it came the +outbuildings, and last, at least one hundred and fifty yards from the +rest, came the corrals, well hidden in the bluff, instead, as is +usual, of being overlooked by the house. Certainly Widow Dangley was a +confiding person. + +And so Tresler, comparatively inexperienced as he was, thought, as he +surveyed the prospect in the moonlight from the back of his mare. He +was accompanied by Sheriff Fyles, and the two men were estimating the +chances they were likely to have against possible invaders. + +"How goes the time?" asked the sheriff, after a few moments' silent +contemplation of the scene. + +"You've half an hour in which to dispose your forces. Ah! there's one +of your fellows riding down the opposite bank." Tresler pointed across +the valley. + +"Yes, and there's another lower down," Fyles observed quietly. "And +here's one dropping down to your right. All on time. What of your +men?" + +"They should be in yonder bluff, backing the corrals." + +"How many?" + +"Four, including the cook." + +"Four, and sixteen of mine--twenty. Our two selves--twenty-two. Good; +come on." + +The man led the way to the bluff. The cowboys were all there. They +received instructions to hold the position at the corrals; to defend +them, or to act as reinforcements if the struggle should take place +elsewhere. Then the two leaders passed on down into the valley. It was +an awkward descent, steep, and of a loose surface that shelved under +their horses' feet. For the moment a cloud had obscured the moon, and +Fyles looked up. A southwesterly breeze had sprung up, and there was a +watery look about the sky. + +"Good," he said again, in his abrupt manner. "There won't be too much +moon. Moonlight is not altogether an advantage in a matter of this +sort. We must depend chiefly on a surprise. We don't want too many +empty saddles." + +At the bottom of the valley they found the rest of the men gathered +together in the shelter of the scattered undergrowth. It was Fyles's +whole command. He proceeded at once to divide them up into two +parties. One he stationed east of the ranch, split into a sort of +skirmishing order, to act under Tresler's charge. The other party he +took for his own command, selecting an advantageous position to the +west. He had also established a code of signals to be used on the +approach of the enemy; these took the form of the cry of the +screech-owl. Thus, within a quarter of an hour after their arrival, +all was in readiness for the raiders, and the valley once more +returned to its native quiet. + +And how quiet and still it all was! The time crept on toward the +appointed hour. The moon was still high in the heavens, but its light +had grown more and more uncertain. The clouds had become dense to a +stormy extent. Now and then the rippling waters of the brook caught +and reflected for a moment a passing shaft of light, like a silvery +rift in the midst of the valley, but otherwise all was shadow. And in +the occasional moonlight every tree and bush and boulder was magnified +into some weird, spectral shape, distorting it from plain truth into +some grotesque fiction, turning the humblest growth into anything from +a grazing steer to a moving vehicle; from a prowling coyote to a log +hut. The music of the waking night-world droned on the scented air, +emphasizing the calm, the delicious peace. It was like some fairy +kingdom swept by strains of undefined music which haunted the ear +without monotony, and peopled with shadows which the imagination could +mould at its pleasure. + +But in the eagerness of the moment all this was lost to the waiting +men. To them it was a possible battleground; with a view to cover, it +was a strategic position, and they were satisfied with it. The cattle, +turned loose from the corrals, must pass up or down the valley; +similarly, any number of men must approach from one of these two +directions, which meant that the ambush could not be avoided. + +At last the warning signal came. An owl hooted from somewhere up the +valley, the cry rising in weird cadence and dying away lingeringly. +And, at the same time, there came the sound of a distant rumble, like +the steady drone of machinery at some far-off point. Tresler at once +gave up his watch on the east and centred all attention upon the west. +One of his own men had answered the owl's cry, and a third screech +came from the guard at the corrals. + +The rumble grew louder. There were no moving objects visible yet, but +the growing sound was less of a murmur; it was more detached, and the +straining ears distinctly made out the clatter of hoofs evidently +traveling fast down the valley trail. On they came, steadily hammering +out their measure with crisp precision. It was a moment of tense +excitement for those awaiting the approach. But only a moment, +although the sensation lasted longer. The moon suddenly brought the +whole thing into reality. Suspense was banished with its revealing +light, and each man, steady at his post, gripped his carbine or +revolver, ready to pour in a deadly fire the moment the word should be +given. A troop of about eighteen horsemen dashed round a bend of the +valley and plunged into the ambush. + +Instantly Fyles's voice rang out. "Halt, or we fire!" he cried. + +The horsemen drew rein at once, but the reply was a pistol-shot in +the direction whence his voice had sounded. The defiance was Tresler's +signal. He passed the word to his men, and a volley of carbine-fire +rang out at once, and confusion in the ranks of the horsemen followed +immediately. + +Then the battle began in deadly earnest. The sheriff's men leapt into +their saddles, and advanced both in front and in rear of the trapped +raiders. And the cowpunchers came racing down from the corrals to hurl +themselves into the _mêlée_ whooping and yelling, as only men of their +craft can. + +The fight waxed furious, but the odds were in favor of the ambush. The +clouded sky lent neither side much assistance. Now and again the +peeping moon looked down upon the scene as though half afraid to show +itself, and it was by those fleeting rays that the sheriff's men +leveled their carbines and poured in their deadly fire. But the +raiders were no mean foe. They fought desperately, and were masters in +the use of their weapons. Their confusion of the first moment passed +instantly, and they rode straight at Tresler's line of defense with a +determination that threatened to overwhelm it and force a passage. But +the coming of the cowpunchers stemmed the tide and hurled them back on +Fyles's force in their rear. Several riderless horses escaped in the +_mêlée_; nor were they only belonging to the raiders. One of the +"deputies" had dropped from his saddle right beside Tresler, and there +was no telling, in the darkness, how many others had met with a +similar fate. Red Mask's gang had been fairly trapped, and both sides +meant to fight to a finish. + +All this time both Tresler and Fyles were looking out for the leader, +the man of all whom they desired to capture. But the darkness, which +had favored the ambuscade, now defeated their object. In the mob of +struggling humanity it was difficult enough to distinguish friend from +foe, let alone to discover any one person. The ranks of the "deputies" +had closed right in and a desperate hand-to-hand struggle was going +on. + +Tresler was caught in the midst of the tide, his crazy mare had +carried him there whether he would or no; but if she had carried him +thus into deadly peril, she was also ready to fight for him. She laid +about her royally, swept on, and reared plunging at every obstruction +to her progress, her master thus escaping many a shot, if it left him +able to do little better than fire at random himself. In this frantic +fashion the maddened creature tore her way through the thick of the +fight, and her rider was borne clear to the further outskirts. Then +she tried to get away with him, but in the nick of time, before her +strong teeth had fixed themselves on the bit, he managed to head her +once again for the struggling mass. + +With furious recklessness she charged forward, and, as bad luck would +have it, her wild career brought about the worst thing possible. She +cannoned violently into the sheriff's charger, while its rider was in +the act of leveling his revolver at the head of a man wearing a red +mask. The impact was within an ace of bringing both horses and riders +to the ground. The mare was flung on her haunches, while Fyles, +cursing bitterly, clung desperately to his saddle to retain his seat. +But his aim was lost, and his shot narrowly missed his horse's head; +and, before either he or Tresler had recovered himself, the red masked +man had vanished into the darkness, heading for the perilous ascent of +the valley side. + +Terrified out of her life the Lady Jezebel turned swinging round on +her haunches, and charged down the valley; and as she went Tresler had +the questionable satisfaction of seeing the sheriff detach himself +from the mob and gallop in pursuit of the raider. + +His own blood was up now, and though the mare had got the bit in her +teeth he fought her with a fury equal to her own. He knew she was +mistress of the situation, but he simply would not give in. He would +kill her rather than she should get away with him this time. And so, +as nothing else had any effect on her, he snatched a pistol from its +holster and leant over and pounded the side of her head with the butt +of it in a wild attempt to turn her. At first she gave not the +smallest heed to his blows; such was her madness. But presently she +flinched under them and turned her head away, and her body responded +to the movement. In another moment he had her round, and as she faced +the side of the valley where the raider had disappeared, he slashed +her cruelly with his spurs. In a moment the noise of the battle was +left behind him, and the mare, with cat-like leaps, was breasting the +ascent. + +And Tresler only thought of the man he was in pursuit of. His own +neck or the neck of his mare mattered nothing to him then. Through +him, or through the mare, they had lost Red Mask. He must rectify +the fault. He had no idea how. His brain was capable of only one +thought--pursuit; and he thanked his stars for the sure-footed beast +under him. Nothing stopped her; she lifted to every obstruction. A +cut-bank had no terrors for her, she simply charged it with her great, +strong hoofs till the gravel and sand poured away under them and left +her a foothold. Bushes were trampled down or plunged through. Blindly +she raced for the top, at an angle that made her rider cling to the +horn of his saddle to keep himself from sliding off over the cantle. + +They passed Fyles struggling laboriously to reach the top. The Lady +Jezebel seemed to shoot past him and leave him standing. And as he +went Tresler called out-- + +"How much start has he?" + +"He's topping it now," the sheriff replied. + +And the answer fired Tresler's excitement so that he again rammed both +spurs into the mare's flanks. The top of the hill loomed up against +the sky. A thick fringe of bush confronted them. Head down, nose +almost touching the ground, the mad animal plunged into it. Her rider +barely had time to lie down in his saddle and cling to her neck. His +thoughts were in a sort of mental whirlpool and he hardly realized +what had happened, when, the next moment, the frenzied demon under him +plunged out on to the open prairie. + +She made no pause or hesitation, but like a shot from a gun swept on +straight as the crow flies, her nose alone guiding her. She still held +the bit in her jaws; her frolic had only just begun. Tresler looked +ahead and scanned the sky-line, but the darkness obscured all signs +of his quarry. + +He had just made up his mind to trust to chance and the captious mood +of his mare when the moon, crossing a rift in the clouds, gave him a +sort of flashlight view of the horizon. It only lasted a few seconds, +but it lasted long enough for him to detect a horseman heading for the +Mosquito River, away to the right, with a start that looked like +something over a mile. His heart sank at the prospect. But the next +instant hope bounded within him, for the mare swung round of her own +accord and stretched herself for the race. + +He understood. She had recognized the possibility of company; and few +horses, whatever their temper, can resist that. + +He leaned over and patted her shoulder, easing her of his weight like +a jockey. + +"Now, you she-devil," he murmured affectionately, "behave yourself for +once, and go--go like the fiend you are!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE PURSUIT OF RED MASK + + +A mile start; it would seem an impossible advantage. Even with a far +better horse in pursuit, how many miles must be covered before that +distance could be made up? Could the lost ground be regained in eight +miles? It looked to be out of the question even to Tresler, hopeful of +his mare as he was, and knowing her remarkable turn of speed. Yet such +proved to be the case. Eight miles saw him so close on the heels of +the raider that there was nothing left for the fugitive but to keep +on. + +He felt no surprise that they were traversing the river trail. He even +thought he knew how he could head his man off by a short cut. But this +would not serve his purpose. He wanted to get him red-handed, and to +leave him now would be to give him a chance that he was confident +would be taken advantage of at once. The river trail led to the ranch. +And the only branches anywhere along its route were those running +north and south at the ford. + +Steadily he closed up, foot by foot, yard by yard. Sometimes he saw +his quarry, sometimes he was only guided by the beat of the speeding +hoofs. Now that he was urging her, the Lady Jezebel had relinquished +the bit, not only willing, but bursting to do better than her best. +No rider could resist such an appeal. And as they went Tresler found +himself talking to her with an affection that would have sounded +ridiculous to any but a horseman. It made him smile to see her ears +laid back, not in the manner of a horse putting forth its last +efforts, but with that vicious air she always had, as though she were +running open-mouthed at Jacob Smith, as he had seen her do in the +corral on his introduction to her. + +When they came to the river ford he was a bare hundred yards in the +wake of his man. Here the road turned off for the ranch, and the trees +met overhead and shut out the light of the moon. It was pitch black, +and he was only guided by the sound of the other horse in front. +Abreast of the ford he became aware that this sound had abruptly died +out, and at the bend of the trail he pulled up and listened acutely. +They stood thus, the mare's great body heaving under him, until her +rider caught the faint sound of breaking bush somewhere directly ahead +of them. + +Instantly recollection came to his help, and he laughed as he turned +the mare off the trail and plunged into the scrub. It was the spot +where, once before, he had taken, unwillingly, to the bush. There was +no hesitation, no uncertainty. They raced through the tangle, and +threaded their way on to the disused trail they had both traveled +before. + +The fugitive had gained considerably now, and Tresler, for the first +time since the race had begun, asked his mare for more pace. She +simply shook her head, snorted, and swished her tail, as though +protesting that the blow was unnecessary. She could not do the +impossible, and that he was asking of her. But his forcible request +was the nervous result of his knowledge that the last lap of the race +had been entered upon and the home stretch was not far off. It must be +now or never. + +He soon realized that the remaining distance was all too short. As he +came to the place where the forest abruptly terminated, he saw that +day had broken. The gray light showed him to be still thirty yards or +so behind. + +They had reached the broken lands he remembered so well. Before him +stretched the plateau leading to the convergence of the river and the +cliff. It was the sight of this which gave him an inspiration. He +remembered the branching trail to the bridge, also the wide sweep it +took, as compared with the way he had first come. To leap the river +would gain him fifty yards. But in that light it was a risk--a grave +risk. He hesitated. Annoyed at his own indecision, he determined to +risk everything on one throw. The other horse was distinctly lagging. +He reached down and patted his mare's neck. And that simple action +restored his confidence; he felt that she was still on top of her +work. The river would have no terrors for her. + +He saw the masked man turn off for the bridge, but he held straight +on. He gave another anxious look at the sky. The dull gray was still +unbroken by any flush of sunrise, but it was lighter, certainly. The +mask of clouds was breaking, though it still contrived to keep +daylight in abeyance. He had no option but to settle himself in the +saddle for the great effort. Light or no light, he could not turn back +now. + +And for the while he forgot the fugitive. His mind centred on the +river ahead, and the moment when his hand must lend the mare that aid, +without which he could not hope, after her great journey, to win the +far bank. His nerve was steady, and his eyes never more alert. +Everything was distinct enough about him. The bushes flying by were +clearly outlined now, and he fancied he could already see the river's +line of demarkation. On they raced, he leaning well forward, she with +her ears pricked, attentive to the murmurs of the water already so +near. Unconsciously his knees gripped the leggaderos of his saddle +with all the power he could put into the pressure, and his body was +bent crouching, as though he were about to make the spring himself. + +And the moment came. He spurred and lifted; and the game beast shot +forward like a rocket. A moment, and she landed. But the half lights +must have deceived her. She had jumped further than before, and, +crashing into a boulder with her two fore feet, she turned a complete +somersault, and fell headlong to the ground, hurling her rider yards +out of the saddle into the soft loose sand of the trail beyond. + +Quite unhurt, Tresler was on his feet in an instant. But the mare lay +still where she had fallen. A hopeless feeling of regret swept over +the man as he turned and beheld her. He saw the masked rider dash at +the hillside on his weary horse, not twenty yards from him, but he +gave him no heed. + +It needed no look into the mare's glazing eyes to tell him what he had +done. He had killed her. The first really honest act of her life had +led to the unfortunate creature's own undoing. Her lean ewe neck was +broken, as were both her forelegs. + +The moment he had ascertained the truth he left her, and, looking up +at the hill, saw that it was high time. The rider had vanished, but +his jaded horse was standing half-way up the hillside in the mire of +loose sand. It was either too frightened or too weary to move, and +stood there knee-deep, a picture of dejection. + +The task of mounting to the ledge was no light one, but Tresler faced +it without a second thought. The other had only something less than a +minute's start of him, and as there was only one other exit to the +place--and that, he remembered, of a very unpromising nature--he had +few fears of the man's ultimate escape. No, there was no escape for +him; and besides--a smile lit up the hard set of his features at the +thought--daylight had really come. The clouds had at last given way +before the rosy herald of sunrise. + +The last of the ascent was accomplished, and, breathing hard, Tresler +stepped on to the gravel-strewn plateau, gun in hand. He felt glad of +his five-chambered companion. Those rough friends of his on the ranch +were right. There was nothing so compelling, nothing so arbitrary, nor +so reassuring to the possessor and confounding to his enemies, as a +gun well handled. + +The ledge was empty. He looked at the towering cliff, but there was no +sign of his man in that direction. He moved toward the hut, but at the +first step the door of the dugout was flung wide, and Julian Marbolt, +gun in hand, dashed out. + +He came with a rush, without hesitation, confidently; but as the door +was thrown open, and the flood of daylight shone down upon him, he +fell back with a bitter cry of despair, and Tresler knew that he had +not reckoned on the change from comparative darkness to daylight. He +needed no further proof of what he had come to suspect. The rancher +was only blind in the presence of strong light! + +For a second only he stood cowering back, then, feeling his way, he +darted with miraculous rapidity round the side of the building, and +scrambled toward the dizzy staircase in the rock. + +Tresler challenged him at once, but he paid no heed. He had reached +the foot of the stairway, and was climbing for life and liberty. The +other knew that he ought to have opened fire on him, but the old +desire to trust to his hands and bodily strength overcame his better +judgment, and he ran at him. His impulse was humane but futile, for +the man was ascending with marvelous rapidity, and by the time he had +reached the foot of the ladder, was beyond his reach. + +There was nothing left now but to use his gun or to follow. One look +at the terrific ascent, however, left him no choice. + +"Go on, and I'll drop you, Julian Marbolt!" he shouted. "I've five +chambers loaded in each gun." + +For response, the blind man increased his exertions. On he went, up, +up, till it made the man below dizzy to watch him. Tresler raised his +gun and fired wide, letting the bullet strike the rock close to the +man's right hand to convince him of his intentions. He saw the +limestone splinter as the bullet hit it, while the clutching, groping +hand slid higher for a fresh hold; but it had no other effect. + +He was at a loss. If the man reached the top, he knew that somewhere +over the brink lay a road to safety. And he was nearing it; nearing it +foot by foot with his crawling, clinging clutch upon the face of rock. +He shuddered as he watched, fascinated even against himself. Deprived +of sight, the man's whole body seemed alert with an instinct that +served him in its stead. His movements were like those of some +cuttlefish, reaching out blindly with its long feelers and drawing +itself up by the power of its tentacles. + +He shouted a last warning. "Your last chance!" he cried; and now his +aim was true, and his purpose inflexible. + +The only answer was a hurried movement on the part of the climbing +man. + +Tresler's finger was on the trigger, while his eyes were fixed on his +mark. But the hammer did not fall; the final compression of the hand +was stayed, while horror leapt into the eyes so keenly looking over +the sight. Something had happened up there on the face of the cliff. +The man had slipped! One foot shot out helplessly, as the frantic +climber struggled for those last few steps before the shot came. He +wildly sought to recover himself, but the fatal jolt carried the +weight of his body with it, and wrenched the other foot from its hold. +For the fraction of a second the man below became aware of the +clinging hands, as they desperately held to the rock, and then he +dropped his gun and clapped his hands over his ears as a piercing +shriek rang out. He could not witness any more. He only heard, in +spite of his stopped ears, the lumping of a soft body falling; he saw, +though his eyes were closed almost on the instant, a huddled figure +pitch dully upon the edge of the plateau and disappear below. It all +passed in a flash. + +Then silence reigned. And when he opened his eyes there was no +horrible sight, nothing seemed to have been disturbed. It had gone; no +trace was left, not a tatter of cloth, not a spot of blood, nothing. + +He knew. His imaginary vision of the old-time trapper had been enacted +before his very eyes. All that remained of Julian Marbolt was +lying--down there. + + * * * * * + +Fyles and Tresler were standing in the valley below. They were gazing +on the mangled remains of the rancher. Fyles had removed the piece of +red blanket from the dead man's face, and held it up for inspection. + +"Um!" he grunted. "The game's played out." + +"There's more of that up there in the hut," said Tresler. + +"Breed blanket," commented Fyles, folding it up and carefully +bestowing it in his pocket. Then he turned and gazed down the yawning +valley. It was a wonderful place, a mighty rift extending for miles +into the heart of the mountains. "A nice game, too," he went on +presently. "Ever seen this place before?" + +"Once," Tresler replied. Then he told the officer of his runaway ride. + +Fyles listened with interest. At the conclusion he said, "Pity you +didn't tell me of this before. However, you missed the chief interest. +Look away down there in the shelter of the cliff. See--about a mile +down. Corrals enough to shepherd ten thousand head. And they are +cunningly disposed." + +Tresler now became aware of a scattered array of corrals, stretching +away out into the distance, but so arranged at the foot of the +towering walls of the valley that they needed looking for closely. + +Then he looked up at the ledge which had been the scene of the +disaster, and the ladder of hewn steps above, and he pointed at them. + +"I wonder what's on the other side?" + +"That's an easy one," replied his companion promptly. "Half-breeds." + +"A settlement?" + +"That's about it. You remember the Breeds cleared away from their old +settlement lately. We've never found them. Once they take to the +hills, it's like a needle in a haystack. Maybe friend Anton is in +hiding there." + +"I doubt it. 'Tough' McCulloch didn't belong to them, as I told you. +He comes from over the border. No; he's getting away as fast as his +horse can carry him. And Arizona isn't far off his trail, if I'm any +judge." + +Fyles's great round face was turned contemplatively on his companion. + +"Well, that's for the future, anyhow," he observed, and moved to a +bush some yards away. "Let's take it easy. Money, one of my deputies, +has gone in for a wagon. I don't expect him for a couple of hours or +so. We must keep it company," he added, nodding his head in the +direction of the dead man. + +They sat down and silently lit their pipes. Fyles was the first to +speak. + +"Guess I've got to thank you," he said, as though that sort of thing +was quite out of his province. + +Tresler shook his head. "Not me," he said. "Thank my poor mare." Then +he added, with a bitter laugh, "Why, but for the accident of his fall, +I'm not sure he wouldn't have escaped. I'm pretty weak-kneed when it +comes to dropping a man in cold blood." + +The other shook his head. + +"No; he wouldn't have escaped. You underestimate yourself. But even if +you had missed I had him covered with my carbine. I was watching the +whole thing down here. You see, Money and I came on behind. I don't +suppose we were more than a few minutes after you. That mare you were +riding was a dandy. I see she's done." + +"Yes," Tresler said sorrowfully. "And I'm not ashamed to say it's hit +me hard. She did us a good turn." + +"And she owed it to us." + +"You mean when she upset everything during the fight?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, she's more than made amends. In spite of her temper, that mare +of mine was the finest thing on the ranch." + +"Yours?" Fyles raised his eyebrows. + +"Well--Marbolt's." + +But the officer shook his head. "Nor Marbolt's. She belonged to me. +Three years ago I turned her out to graze at Whitewater with a bunch +of others, as an incorrigible rogue and vagabond. The whole lot were +stolen and one of the guard shot. Her name was 'Strike 'em.'" + +"Strike 'em?" + +"Yes. Ever have her come at you with both front feet, and her mouth +open?" + +Tresler nodded. + +"That's it. 'Strike 'em.' Fine mare--half blood." + +"But Marbolt told Jake he bought her from a half-breed outfit." + +"Dare say he did." + +Fyles relit his pipe for about the twentieth time, which caused +Tresler to hand him his pouch. + +"Try tobacco," he said, with a smile. + +The sheriff accepted the invitation with unruffled composure. The +gentle sarcasm passed quite unheeded. Probably the man was too intent +on the business of the moment, for he went on as though no +interruption had occurred. + +"After seeing you on that mare I found the ranch interesting. But the +man's blindness fooled me right along. I had no trouble in +ascertaining that Jake had nothing to do with things. Also I was +assured that none of the 'hands' were playing the game. Anton was the +man for me. But soon I discovered that he was not the actual leader. +So far, good. There was only Marbolt left; but he was blind. Last +night, when you came for me, and told me what had happened at the +ranch, and about the lighted lamp, I tumbled. But even so I still +failed to understand all. The man was blind in daylight, and could see +in darkness or half-light. Now, what the deuce sort of blind disease +is that? And he seems to have kept the secret, acting the blind man at +all times. It was clever--devilish clever." + +Tresler nodded. "Yes; he fooled us all, even his daughter." + +The other shot a quick glance from out of the corners of his eyes. + +"I suppose so," he observed, and waited. + +They smoked in silence. + +"What are you going to do next?" asked Tresler, as the other showed no +disposition to speak. + +The man shrugged. "Take possession of the ranch. Just keep the hands +to run it. The lady had better go into Forks if she has any friends +there. You might see to that. I understand that you are--gossip, you +know." + +"Yes." + +"There'll be inquiries and formalities. The property I don't know +about. That will be settled by the government." + +Tresler became thoughtful. Suddenly he turned to his companion. + +"Sheriff," he said earnestly, "I hope you'll spare Miss Marbolt all +you can. She has lived a terribly unhappy life with him. I can assure +you she has known nothing of this--nothing of the strange blindness. I +would swear it with my last breath." + +"I don't doubt you, my boy," the other said heartily. "We owe you too +much to doubt you. She shall not be bothered more than can be helped. +But she had some knowledge of that blindness, or she would not have +acted as she did with that lamp. I tell you candidly she will have to +make a statement." + +"Have no doubt; she will explain." + +"Sure--ah! I think I hear the wheels of the wagon." Fyles looked +round. Then he settled himself down again. "Jake," he went on, "was +smartest of us all. I can't believe he was ever told of his patron's +curious blindness. He must have discovered it. He was playing a big +game. And all for a woman! Well, well." + +"No doubt he thought she was worth it," said Tresler, with some +asperity. + +The officer smiled at the tone. "No doubt, no doubt. Still, he wasn't +young. He fooled you when he concurred with your suspicions of +Anton--that is, he knew you were off the true scent, and meant keeping +you off it. I can understand, too, why you were sent to Willow Bluff. +You knew too much, you were too inquiring. Besides, from your own +showing to Jake--which he carried on to the blind man for his own +ends--you wanted too much. You had to be got rid of, as others have +been got rid of before. Yes, it was all very clever. And he never +spared his own stock. Robbed himself by transferring a bunch of +steers to these corrals, and, later on, I suppose, letting them drift +back to his own pastures. I only wonder why, with a ranch like his, he +ran the risk." + +"Perhaps it was old-time associations. He was a slave-trader once, and +no doubt he stocked his ranch originally by raiding the Indians' +cattle. Then, when white people came around, and the Indians +disappeared, he continued his depredations on less open lines." + +"Ah! slave-trader, was he? Who said?" + +"Miss Marbolt innocently told me he once traded in the Indies in +'black ivory.' She did not understand." + +"Just so--ah, here is the wagon." + +Fyles rose leisurely to his feet. And Money drove up. + +"The best of news, sheriff," the latter cried at once. "Captured the +lot. Some of the boys are badly damaged, but we've got 'em all." + +"Well, we'll get back with this," the officer replied quietly. + +The dead man was lifted into the wagon, and, in a few minutes, the +little party was on its way back to the ranch. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +A RETURN TO THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES + + +The affairs of the ranch were taken in hand by Fyles. Everything was +temporarily under his control, and an admirable administrator he +proved. Nor could Tresler help thinking how much better he seemed +suited by such pastoral surroundings than by the atmosphere of his +proper calling. But this appointment only lasted a week. Then the +authorities drafted a man to relieve him for the more urgent business +of the investigation into the death of the rancher and his foreman, +and the trial of the half-breed raiders captured at Widow Dangley's. + +Diane, acting on Tresler's advice, had taken up her abode with Mrs. +Doc. Osler in Forks, which good, comfortable, kind, gossipy old woman +insisted on treating her as a bereaved and ailing child, who must be +comforted and ministered to, and incidentally dosed with tonics. As a +matter of fact, Diane, though greatly shocked at the manner and +conditions of her father's death, and the discovery that he was so +terrible an outlaw, was suffering in no sense the bereavement of the +death of a parent. She was heartily glad to get away from her old +home, that had held so much unhappiness and misery for her. Later on, +when Tresler sent her word that it was imperative for him to go into +Whitewater with Fyles, that he had been summoned there as a witness, +she was still more glad that she had left it. Thanks to the influence +and consideration of Fyles, she had been spared the ordeal of the +trial in Whitewater. She had given her sworn testimony at the +preliminary inquiry on the ranch, and this had been put in as evidence +at the higher court. + +And so it was nearly a month before Tresler was free to return to +Forks. And during that time he had been kept very busy. What with the +ranch affairs, and matters of his own concerns, he had no time for +anything but brief and infrequent little notes of loving encouragement +to the waiting girl. But these messages tended otherwise than might +have been expected. The sadness that had so long been almost second +nature to the girl steadily deepened, and Mrs. Osler, ever kind and +watchful of her charge, noticed the depression settling on her, and +with motherly solicitude--she had no children of her own--insisted on +the only remedy she understood--physic. And the girl submitted to the +kindly treatment, knowing well enough that there was no physic to help +her complaint. She knew that, in spite of his tender messages and +assurances of affection, Tresler could never be anything more in her +life than he was at present. Even in death her father had carried out +his threat. She could never marry. It would be a cruel outrage on any +man. She told herself that no self-respecting man would ever marry a +girl with such a past, such parentage. + +And so she waited for her lover's return to tell him. Once she thought +of writing it, but she knew Jack too well. He would only come down to +Forks post haste, and that might upset his plans; and she had no +desire to cause him further trouble. She would tell him her decision +when he had leisure to come to her. Then she would wait for the +government orders about the ranch, and, if she were allowed to keep +it, she would sell the land as soon as possible and leave the country +forever. She felt that this course was the right one to pursue; but it +was very, very hard, and no measure of tonics could dispel the +deepening shadows which the cruelty of her lot had brought to her +young face. + +It was wonderful the kindness and sympathy extended to her in that +rough settlement. There was not a man or woman, especially the men, +who did not do all in his or her power to make her forget her +troubles. No one ever alluded to Mosquito Bend in her presence, and, +instead, assumed a rough, cheerful jocularity, which sat as awkwardly +on the majority as it well could. For most of them were illiterate, +hard-living folk, rendered desperately serious in the struggle for +existence. + +And back to this place Tresler came one day. He was a very different +man now from what he had been on his first visit. He looked about him +as he crossed the market-place. Quickly locating Doc. Osler's little +house, he smiled to himself as he thought of the girl waiting for him +there. But he kept to his course and rode straight on to Carney's +saloon. Here, as before, he dismounted. But he needed no help or +guide. He straightway hooked his horse's reins over the tie-post and +walked into the bar. + +The first man to greet him was his old acquaintance Slum Ranks. The +little man looked up at him in a speculative manner, slanting his eyes +at him in a way he remembered so well. There was no change in the +rascal's appearance. In fact, he was wearing the same clothes Tresler +had first seen him in. They were no cleaner and no dirtier. The man +seemed to have utterly stagnated since their first meeting, just as +everything else in the saloon seemed to have stagnated. There were the +same men there--one or two more besides--the same reeking atmosphere, +the same dingy hue over the whole interior. Nothing seemed changed. + +Slum's greeting was characteristic. "Wal, blind-hulks has passed--eh? +I figgered you was comin' out on top. Guess the government'll treat +you han'some." + +The butcher guffawed from his place at the bar. Tresler saw that he +was still standing with his back to it; his hands were still gripping +the moulded edge, as though he had never changed his position since +the first time he had seen him. Shaky, the carpenter, looked up from +the little side table at which he was playing "solitaire" with a +greasy pack of cards; his face still wore the puzzled look with which +he had been contemplating the maze of spots and pictures a moment +before. Those others who were new to him turned on him curiously as +they heard Slum's greeting, and Carney paused in the act of wiping a +glass, an occupation which never failed him, however bad trade might +be. + +Tresler felt that something was due to those who could display so +much interest in his return, so he walked to the bar and called for +drinks. Then he turned to Slum. + +"Well," he said, "I'm going to take up my abode here for a week or +two." + +"I'm real glad," said Ranks, his little eyes lighting up at the +prospect. He remembered how profitable this man had proved before. +"The missis'll be glad, too," he added. "I 'lows she's a far-seein' +wummin. We kep a best room fer such folk as you, now. A bran' noo iron +bed, wi' green an' red stripes, an' a washbowl goin' with it. Say, +it's a real dandy layout, an' on'y three dollars a week wi'out board. +Guess I'll git right over an' tell her to fix--eh?" + +Tresler protested and laid a detaining hand on his arm. "Don't bother. +Carney, here, is going to fix me up; aren't you, Carney?" + +"That's how," replied the saloon-keeper, with a triumphant grin at the +plausible Slum. + +"Wal, now. You plumb rattle me. To think o' your goin' over from a pal +like that," said Slum, protestingly, while the butcher guffawed and +stretched his arms further along the bar. + +"Guess he's had some," observed the carpenter, shuffling his cards +anew. "I 'lows that bed has bugs, an' the wash-bowl's mostly used +dippin' out swill," he finished up scornfully. + +Ranks eyed the sad-faced man with an unfriendly look. "Guess I never +knew you but what you was insultin', Shaky," he observed, in a tone of +pity. "Some folks is like that. Guess you git figgerin' them cards +too close. You never was bustin' wi' brains. Say, Carney," turning +back to the bar complainingly, "wher's them durned brandy 'cocks' Mr. +Tresler ordered a whiles back? You're gettin' most like a fun'ral on +an up-hill trail. Slow--eh? Guess if we're to be pizened I sez do it +quick." + +"Comin' along, Slum," replied Carney, winking knowingly to let Tresler +understand that the man's impatience was only a covering for his +discomfiture at Shaky's hands. "I've done my best to pizen you this +ten year. Guess Shaky's still pinin' fer the job o' nailin' a few +planks around you. Here you are. More comin'." + +"Who's needin' me?" asked Shaky, looking up from his cards. "Slum +Ranks?" he questioned, pausing. "Guess I've got a plank or two fit fer +him. Red pine. Burns better." + +He lit his pipe with great display and sucked at it noisily. Slum +lowered his cocktail and turned a disgusted look on him. + +"Say, go easy wi' that lucifer. Don't breathe on it, or ther' won't be +no need fer red pine fer you." + +"Gentlemen, gentlemen," cried Carney, jocosely, "the present--kep to +the present. Because Slum, here, runs a--well, a boardin' +establishment, ther' ain't no need to discuss his future so coarsely." + +"Not so much slack, Carney," said Slum, a little angrily. "Guess my +boardin' emporium's rilin' you some. You're feelin' a hur'cane; that's +wot you're feelin', I guess. Makes you sick to see folks gittin' value +fer their dollars, don't it?" + +"Good fer you, good fer you," cried the butcher, and subsided with a +loud guffaw. + +The unusual burst of speech from this man caused general surprise. The +entire company paused to stare at the shining, grinning face. + +"Sail in, Slum," said a lean man Tresler had heard addressed as +"Sawny" Martin. "I allus sez as you've got a dead eye fer the +tack-head ev'ry time. But go easy, or the boss'll bar you on the +slate." + +"Don't owe him nuthin'," growled Slum. + +"Which ain't or'nary in this company," observed the smiling Carney; he +loved to get Slum angry. "Say, Shaky," he went on, "how do Slum fix +you in his--hotel? You don't seem bustin' wi' vittals." + +"Might do wuss," responded the carpenter, sorrowfully. "But, y' see, I +stan' in wi' Doc. Osler, an' he physics me reg'lar." + +Everybody laughed with the butcher this time. + +"Say, you gorl-durned 'fun'ral boards,' you're gittin' kind o' fresh, +but I'd bet a greenback to a last year's corn-shuck you don't quit +ther' an' come grazin' around Carney's pastures, long as my missis +does the cookin'." + +"I 'lows your missis ken cook," said Shaky, with enthusiasm. "The +feller as sez she can't lies. But wi' her, my respec' fer your hog-pen +ends. I guess this argyment is closed fer va-cation. Who's fer +'draw'?" + +Slum turned back to the bar. "Here, Carney," he said, planking out a +ten-dollar bill, "hand over chips to that. We're losin' blessed hours +gassin'. I'm goin' fer a hand at 'draw.' An' say, give us a new deck +o' cards. Guess them o' Shaky's needs curry-combin' some. Mr. +Tresler," he went on, turning to his old boarder, "mebbe I owe you +some. Have you a notion?" + +"No thanks, Slum," replied Tresler, decidedly. "I'm getting an old +hand now." + +"Ah!" + +And the little man moved off with a thoughtful smile on his rutted, +mahogany features. + +Tresler watched these men take their seats for the game. Their recent +bickering was wholly forgotten in the ruling passion for "draw." And +what a game it was! Each man, ignorant, uncultured in all else, was a +past master at poker--an artist. The baser instincts of the game +appealed to the uppermost sides of their natures. They were there to +best each other by any manner of trickery. Each man understood that +his neighbor was doing all he knew, nor did he resent it. Only would +he resent it should the delinquent be found out. Then there would be +real trouble. But they were all such old-time sinners. They had been +doing that sort of thing for years, and would continue to do it for +years more. It was the method of their lives, and Tresler had no +opinion on the right or wrong of it. He had no right to judge them, +and, besides, he had every sympathy for them as struggling units in +Life's great battle. + +But presently he left the table, for Fyles came in, and he had been +waiting for him. But the sheriff came by himself, and Tresler asked +him the reason. + +"Well, you see, Nelson is outside, Tresler," the burly man said, with +something like a smile. "He wouldn't come in. Shall we go out to him?" + +The other assented, and they passed out. Joe was sitting on his +buckskin pony, gazing at the saloon with an infinite longing in his +old eyes. + +"Why are you sitting there?" Tresler asked at once. Then he regretted +his question. + +"Wal," Joe drawled, without the least hesitation, "I'm figgerin' you +oughter know by this time. Ther's things born to live on liquid, an' +they've mostly growed tails. Guess I ain't growed that--yet. Mebbe +I'll git down at Doc. Osler's. An' I'll git on agin right ther'," he +added, as an afterthought. + +Joe smiled as much as his twisted face would permit, but Tresler was +annoyed with himself for having forced such a confession from him. + +"Well, I'm sorry I suggested it, Joe," he said quickly; "as you say, I +ought to have known better. Never mind, I want you to do me a favor." + +"Name it, an' I'll do it if I bust." + +The little man brightened at the thought of this man asking a favor of +him. + +Tresler didn't respond at once. He didn't want to put the matter too +bluntly. He didn't want to let Joe feel that he regarded him as a +subordinate. + +"Well, you see, I'm looking for some one of good experience to give me +some friendly help. You see, I've bought a nice place, and--well, in +fact, I'm setting up ranching on my own, and I want you to come and +help me with it. That's all." + +Joe looked out over the market-place, he looked away at the distant +hills, his eyes turned on Doc. Osler's house; he cleared his throat +and screwed his face into the most weird shape. His eyes sought the +door of the saloon and finally came back to Tresler. He swallowed two +or three times, then suddenly thrust out his hand as though he were +going to strike his benefactor. + +"Shake," he muttered hoarsely. + +And Tresler gripped the proffered hand. "And perhaps you'll have that +flower-garden, Joe," he said, "without the weeds." + +"Mr. Tresler, sir, shake agin." + +"Never mind the 'mister' or the 'sir,'" said Tresler. "We are old +friends. Now, Fyles," he went on, turning to the officer, who had been +looking on as an interested spectator, "have you any news for Miss +Marbolt?" + +"Yes, the decision's made. I've got the document here in my pocket." + +"Good. But don't tell it me. Give me an hour's start of you. I'm going +to see the lady myself. And, Joe," Tresler looked up into the old +man's beaming face. "Will you come with the sheriff when he +interviews--er--our client?" + +"All right, Mis----" + +"No." + +"Tresler, si----" + +"No." + +"All right, Tresler," said the old man, in a strangely husky voice. + + * * * * * + +Diane was confronting her lover for the last interview. Mrs. Osler had +discreetly left them, and now they were sitting in the diminutive +parlor, the man, at the girl's expressed wish, sitting as far from her +as the size of the room would permit. All his cheeriness had deserted +him and a decided frown marred the open frankness of his face. + +Diane, herself, looked a little older than when we saw her last at the +ranch. The dark shadows round her pretty eyes were darker, and her +face looked thinner and paler, while her eyes shone with a feverish +brightness. + +"You overruled my decision once, Jack," she was saying in a low tone +that she had difficulty in keeping steady, "but this time it must not +be." + +"Well, look here, Danny, I can give you just an hour in which to ease +your mind, but I tell you candidly, after that you'll have to say +'yes,' in spite of all your objections. So fire away. Here's the +watch. I'm going to time you." + +Tresler spoke lightly and finished up with a laugh. But he didn't feel +like laughter. This objection came as a shock to him. He had pictured +such a different meeting. + +Diane shook her head. "I can say all I have to say in less time than +that, Jack. Promise me that you will not misunderstand me. You know my +heart, dear. It is all yours, but, but--Jack, I did not tell all I +knew at the inquest." + +She paused, but Tresler made no offer to help her out. "I knew father +could see at night. He was what Mr. Osler calls a--Nyc--Nyctalops. +That's it. It's some strange disease and not real blindness at all, as +far as I can make out. He simply couldn't see in daylight because +there was something about his eyes which let in so much light, that +all sense of vision was paralyzed, and at such time he suffered +intense pain. But when evening came, in the moonlight, or late +twilight; in fact at any time when there was no glare of light, just a +soft radiance, he could not only see but was possessed of peculiarly +acute vision. How he kept his secret for so many years I don't know. I +understand why he did, but, even now, I cannot understand what drove +him to commit the dreadful deeds he did, so wealthy and all as he +was." + +Tresler thought he could guess pretty closely. But he waited for her +to go on. + +"Jack, I discovered that he could see at night when you were ill, just +before you recovered consciousness," she went on, in a solemn, +awestruck tone. + +"Ah!" + +"Yes, while you were lying there insensible you narrowly escaped being +murdered." + +Again she paused, and shuddered visibly. + +"I was afraid of something. His conduct when you were brought in +warned me. He seemed to resent your existence; he certainly resented +your being in the house, but most of all my attendance on you. I was +very watchful, but the strain was too much, and, one night, feeling +that the danger of sleep for me was very real, I barricaded the +stairs. I did my utmost to keep awake, but foolishly sat down on my +own bed and fell asleep. Then I awoke with a start; I can't say what +woke me. Anyway, realizing I had slept, I became alarmed for you. I +picked up the light and went out into the hall, where I found my +barricade removed----" + +"Yes, and your father at my bedside, with his hands at my throat." + +"Loosening the bandage." + +"To?" + +"To open the wound and let you bleed to death." + +"I see. Yes, I remember. I dreamt the whole scene, except the bandage +business. But you----" + +"I had the lighted lamp, and the moment its light flashed on him he +was as--as blind as a bat. His hands moved about your bandage fumbling +and uncertain. Yes, he was blind enough then. I believe he would have +attacked me, only I threatened him with the lamp, and with calling for +help." + +"Brave little woman--yes, I remember your words. They were in my +dream. And that's how you knew what to do later on when Jake and +he----" + +The girl nodded. + +"So Fyles was right," Tresler went on musingly. "You did know." + +"Was I wrong, Jack, in not telling them at the inquest? You see he is +dead, and----" + +"On the contrary, you were right. It would have done no manner of +good. You might have told me, though." + +"Well, I didn't know what to do," the girl said, a little helplessly. +"You see I never thought of cattle-stealing. It never entered my head +that he was, or could be, Red Mask. I only looked upon it as a +villainous attempt on your life, which would not be likely to occur +again, and which it would serve no purpose to tell you of. Besides, +the horror----" + +"Yes, I see. Perhaps you were right. It would have put us on the right +track though, as, later on, the fight with Jake and your action with +regard to it did. Never mind; that's over. Julian Marbolt was an utter +villain from the start. You may as well know that his trading in +'black ivory' was another name for slave-trading. His blindness had +nothing to do with driving him to crime, nor had your mother's doings. +He was a rogue before. His blindness only enabled him to play a deeper +game, which was a matter likely to appeal to his nature. However, +nothing can be altered by discussing him. I have bought a ranch +adjoining Mosquito Bend, and secured Joe's assistance as foreman. I +have given out contracts for rebuilding the house; also, I've sent +orders east for furnishings. I am going to buy my stock at the fall +round-up. All I want now is for you to say when you will marry me, +sweetheart." + +"But, Jack, you don't seem to understand. I can't marry you. Father +was a--a murderer." + +"I don't care what he was, Danny. It doesn't make the least difference +to me. I'm not marrying your father." + +Diane was distressed. The lightness of his treatment of the subject +bothered her. But she was in deadly earnest. + +"But, Jack, think of the disgrace! Your people! All the folk about +here!" + +"Now don't let us be silly, Danny," Tresler said, coming over to the +girl's side and taking possession of her forcibly. In spite of protest +his arm slipped round her waist, and he drew her to him and kissed her +tenderly. "My people are not marrying you. Nor are the folk--who, by +the way, can't, and have no desire to throw stones--doing so either. +Now, you saved my life twice; once through your gentle nursing, once +through your bravery. And I tell you no one has the right to save life +and then proceed to do all in their power to make that life a burden +to the miserable wretch on whom they've lavished such care. That would +be a vile and unwomanly action, and quite foreign to your gentle +heart. Sweetheart," he went on, kissing her again, "you must complete +the good work. I am anything but well yet. In fact I am so weak that +any shock might cause a relapse. In short, there is only one thing, as +far as I can see, to save me from a horrid death--consumption or +colic, or some fell disease--and that's marriage. I know you must be +bored to death by----No," as the girl tried to stop him, "don't +interrupt, you must know all the fearsome truth--a sort of chronic +invalid, but if you don't marry me, well, I'll get Joe to bury me +somewhere at the crossroads. Look at all the money I've spent in +getting our home together. Think of it, Danny; our home! And old Joe +to help us. And----" + +"Oh, stop, stop, or you'll make me----" + +"Marry me. Just exactly what I intend, darling. Now, seriously, let's +forget the old past; Jake, your father, Anton, all of them--except +Arizona." + +Diane nestled closer to him in spite of her protests. There was +something so strong, reliant, masterful about her Jack that made him +irresistible to her. She knew she was wrong in allowing herself to +think like this at such a moment, but, after all, she was a weak, +loving woman, fighting in what she conceived to be the cause of right. +If she found that her heart, so long starved of affection, overcame +her sense of duty, was there much blame? Tresler felt the gentle +clinging movement, and pressed her for her answer at once. + +"Time's nearly up, dearest. See through that window, Fyles and Joe are +coming over to you. Is it marry, or am I to go to the Arctic regions +fishing for polar bears without an overcoat? I don't care which it +is--I mean--no. Yes, quick! They're on the verandah." + +The girl nodded. "Yes," she said, so low that his face came in contact +with hers in his effort to hear, and stayed there until the burly +sheriff knocked at the door. + +He entered, followed by Joe. Tresler and Diane were standing side by +side. He was still holding her hand. + +"Fyles," Tresler said at once, beaming upon both men, "let me present +you to the future Mrs. John Tresler. Joe," he added, turning on the +little man who was twisting his slouch hat up unmercifully in his +nervous hand, and grinning ferociously, "are the corrals prepared, and +have you got my branding-irons ready? You see I've rounded her up." + +The little man grinned worse than ever, and appeared to be in imminent +peril of extending his torn mouth into the region of his ear. Diane +listened to the horrible suggestion without misgiving, merely +remarking in true wifely fashion-- + +"Don't be absurd, Jack!" + +At which Fyles smiled with appreciation. Then he coughed to bring them +to seriousness, and produced an official envelope from his tunic +pocket. + +"I've just brought you the verdict on your property, Miss Marbolt," he +said deliberately. "Shall I read it to you, or would you----?" + +"Never mind the reading," said Diane impulsively. "Tell me the +contents." + +"Well, I confess it's better so. The legal terms are confusing," said +the officer emphatically. "You can read them later. I don't guess the +government could have acted better by you than they've done. The +property,"--he was careful to avoid the rancher's name--"the property +is to remain yours, with this proviso. An inquiry has been arranged +for, into all claims for property lost during the last ten years in +the district. And all approved claims will have to be settled out of +the estate. Five years is the time allowed for all such claims to be +put forward. After that everything reverts to you." + +Diane turned to her lover the moment the officer had finished +speaking. + +"And, Jack, when that time comes we'll sell it all and give the money +to charity, and just live on in our own little home." + +"Done!" exclaimed Tresler. And seizing her in his arms he picked her +up and gave her a resounding kiss. The action caused the sheriff to +cough loudly, while Joe flung his hat fiercely to the ground, and in a +voice of wildest excitement, shouted-- + +"Gee, but I want to holler!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +ARIZONA + + +When winter comes in Canada it shuts down with no uncertainty. The +snow settles and remains. The sun shines, but without warmth. The +still air bites through any clothing but furs, moccasins, or +felt-lined overshoes. The farmers hug the shelter of their houses, and +only that work which is known as "doing the chores" receives attention +when once winter sets its seal upon the land. Little traffic passes +over the drifted trails now; a horseman upon a social visit bent, a +bobsleigh loaded with cord-wood for the wood-stoves at home, a cutter, +drawn by a rattling team of young bronchos, as rancher and wife seek +the alluring stores of some distant city to make their household +purchases, even an occasional "jumper," one of those low-built, +red-painted, one-horsed sleighs, which resemble nothing so much as a +packing-case with a pair of shafts attached. But these are all; for +work has practically ceased in the agricultural regions, and a period +of hibernation has begun, when, like the dormouse, rancher and farmer +alike pass their slack time in repose from the arduous labors of the +open season. + +Even the most brilliant sunlight cannot cheer the mournful outlook to +any great extent. Out on the Edmonton trail, hundreds of miles to the +north of Forks, at the crossroads where the Battule trail branches to +the east, the cheerless prospect is intensified by the skeleton arms +of a snow-crowned bluff. The shelter of trees is no longer a shelter +against the wind, which now comes shrieking through the leafless +branches and drives out any benighted creature foolish enough to seek +its protection against the winter storm. But in winter the crossroads +are usually deserted. + +Contrary to custom, however, it is evident that a horseman has +recently visited the bluff. For there are hoof-prints on one of the +crossing trails; on the trail which comes from somewhere in the south. +The marks are sharp indentations and look fresh, but they terminate as +the crossing is reached. Here they have turned off into the bush and +are lost to view. The matter is somewhat incomprehensible. + +But there is something still more incomprehensible about the desolate +place. Just beyond where the hoof-prints turn off a lightning-stricken +pine tree stands alone, bare and blackened by the fiery ordeal through +which it has passed, and, resting in the fork of one of its shriveled +branches, about the height of a horseman's head, is a board--a black +board, black as is the tree-trunk which supports it. + +As we draw nearer to ascertain the object of so strange a phenomenon +on a prairie trail we learn that some one has inscribed a message to +those who may arrive at the crossing. A message of strange meaning and +obscure. The characters are laboriously executed in chalk, and have +been emphasized with repeated markings and an attempt at block +capitals. Also there is a hand sketched roughly upon the board, with +an outstretched finger pointing vaguely somewhere in the direction of +the trail which leads to Battule. + + "_This is the One-Way Trail_" + +We read this and glance at the pointing finger which is so shaky of +outline, and our first inclination is to laugh. But somehow before the +laugh has well matured it dies away, leaving behind it a look of +wonder not unmixed with awe. For there is something sinister in the +message, which, though we do not understand it, still has power to +move us. If we are prairie folk we shall have no inclination to laugh +at all. Rather shall we frown and edge away from the ominous black +board; and it is more than probable we shall avoid the trail +indicated, and prefer to make a detour if our destination should +chance to be Battule. + +Why is that board there? Who has set it up? And "the one-way trail" is +the trail over which there is no returning. The message is no jest. + +The coldly gleaming sun has set, and at last a horse and rider enter +the bluff. They turn off into the bush and are seen no more. The long +night passes. Dawn comes again, and, as the daylight broadens, the +horseman reappears and rides off down the trail. At evening he returns +again; disappears into the bush again; and, with daylight, rides off +again. Day after day this curious coming and going continues without +any apparent object, unless it be that the man has no place but the +skeleton bush in which to rest. And with each coming and going the +man rides slower, he lounges wearily in his saddle, and before the end +of a week looks a mere spectre of the man who first rode into the +bluff. Starvation is in the emaciated features, the brilliant feverish +eyes. His horse, too, appears little better. + +At length one evening he enters the bush, and the following dawn fails +to witness his departure. All that day there is the faint sound of a +horse moving about amongst the trees with that limping gait which +denotes the application of a knee-halter. But the man makes no sound. + +As night comes on a solitary figure may be seen seated on a horse at a +point which is sheltered from the trail by a screen of bushes. The man +sits still, silent, but drooping. His tall gaunt frame is bent almost +double over the horn of his saddle in his weakness. The horse's head +is hanging heavy with sleep, but the man's great, wild eyes are wide +open and alight with burning eagerness. The horse sleeps and +frequently has to be awakened by its rider as it stumbles beneath its +burden; but the man is as wakeful as the night-owl seeking its prey, +and the grim set of his wasted face implies a purpose no less +ruthless. + +At dawn the position is unchanged. The man still droops over his +saddle-horn, a little lower perhaps, but his general attitude is the +same. As the daylight shoots athwart the horizon and lightens the +darkness of the bush to a gray twilight the horse raises his head and +pricks up his ears. The man's eyes glance swiftly toward the south and +his alertness is intensified. + +Now the soft rustle of flurrying snow becomes audible, and the muffled +pounding of a horse's hoofs can be heard upon the trail. The look that +leaps into the waiting man's eyes tells plainly that this is what he +has so patiently awaited, that here, at last, is the key to his lonely +vigil. He draws his horse back further into the bushes and his hand +moves swiftly to one of the holsters upon his hips. His thin, drawn +features are sternly set, and the sunken eyes are lit with a deep, +hard light. + +Daylight broadens and reveals the barren surroundings; the sound draws +nearer. The silent horseman grips his gun and lays it across his lap +with his forefinger ready upon the trigger. His quick ears tell him +that the traveler has entered the bush and that he is walking his +horse. The time seems endless, while the horseman waits, but his +patience is not exhausted by any means. For more than a week, +subsisting on the barest rations which an empty pocket has driven him +to beg in that bleak country, he has looked for this meeting. + +Now, through the bushes, he sees the traveler as his horse ambles down +the trail toward him. It is a slight fur-clad figure much like his +own, but, to judge by the grim smile that passes across his gaunt +features, one which gives the waiting man eminent satisfaction. He +notes the stranger's alert movements, the quick, flashing black eyes, +the dark features, as he peers from side to side in the bush, over the +edge of the down-turned storm-collar; the legs which set so close to +the saddle, the clumsily mitted hands. Nor does he fail to observe the +uneasy looks he casts about him, and he sees that, in spite of the +solitude, the man is fearful of his surroundings. + +The stranger draws abreast of the black sign-board. His sidelong +glances cannot miss the irregular, chalked characters. His horse comes +to a dead stand opposite them, and the rider's eyes become fixed upon +the strange message. He reads; and while he reads his lips move like +one who spells out the words he sees. + +"This is the One-Way Trail," he reads. And then his eyes turn in the +direction of the pointing finger. + +He looks down the trail which leads to Battule, whither the finger is +pointing, and, looking, a strange expression creeps over his dusky +features. Instinctively, he understands that the warning is meant for +him. And, in his heart, he believes that death for him lies somewhere +out there. And yet he does not turn and flee. He simply sits looking +and thinking. + +Again, as if fascinated, his eyes wander back to the legend upon the +board and he reads and rereads the message it conveys. And all the +time he is a prey to a curious, uncertain feeling. For his mind goes +back over many scenes that do him little credit. Even to his callous +nature there is something strangely prophetic in that message, and its +effect he cannot shake off. And while he stares his dark features +change their hue, and he passes one mitted hand across his forehead. + +There is a sudden crackling of breaking brushwood within a few yards +of him; his horse bounds to one side and it is with difficulty he +retains his seat in the saddle; then he flashes a look in the +direction whence the noise proceeds, only to reel back as though to +ward off a blow. He is looking into the muzzle of a heavy "six" with +Arizona's blazing eyes running over the sight. + +The silence of the bush remained unbroken as the two men looked into +each other's faces. The gun did not belch forth its death-dealing +pellet. It was simply there, leveled, to enforce its owner's will. Its +compelling presence was a power not easily to be defied in a country +where, in those days, the surest law was carried in the holster on the +hip. The man recovered and submitted. His hands, encased in mitts, had +placed him at a woeful disadvantage. + +Arizona saw this and lowered his gun, but his eyes never lost sight of +the fur-clad hands before him. He straightened himself up in the +saddle, refusing to display any of his weakness to this man. + +"Guess I've waited fer you, 'Tough' McCulloch, fer nigh on a week," he +said slowly, in a thin, strident voice. "I've coaxed you some too, I +guess. You wus hidden mighty tight, but not jest tight 'nuff. I 'lows +I located you, an' I wa'n't goin' to lose sight o' you. When you quit +Skitter Bend, like the whipped cur you wus, I wus right hot on your +trail. An' I ain't never left it. See? Say, in all the hundreds o' +miles you've traveled sence you quit the creek ther' ain't bin a move +as you've took I ain't looked on at. I've trailed you, headed you, bin +alongside you, an' located wher' you wus makin', an' come along an' +waited on you. Ther's a score 'tween you an' me as wants squarin'. I'm +right here fer to squar' that score." + +Arizona's sombre face was unrelieved by any change of expression +while he was speaking. There was no anger in his tone; just cold, calm +purpose, and some contempt. And whatever feelings the half-breed may +have had he seemed incapable of showing them, except in the sickly hue +of his face. + +The fascination of the message on the board still seemed to attract +him, for, without heeding the other's words, he glanced over at the +seared tree-trunk and nodded at it. + +"See. Dat ting. It your work. Hah?" + +"Yes; an' I take it the meanin's clear to you. You've struck the trail +we all stan' on some time, pardner, an' that trail is mostly called +the 'One-Way Trail.' It's a slick, broad trail, an' one as is that +smooth to the foot as you're like to find anywheres. It's so dead easy +you can't help goin' on, an' you on'y larn its cussedness when you +kind o' notion gittin' back. I 'lows as one o' them glacier things on +top o' yonder mountains is li'ble to be easier climbin' nor turnin' +back on that trail. The bed o' that trail is blood, blood that's +mostly shed in crime, an' its surface is dusted wi' all manner o' +wrong doin's sech as you an' me's bin up to. Say, it ain't a long +trail, I'm guessin', neither. It's dead short, in fac' the end comes +sudden-like, an' vi'lent. But I 'lows the end ain't allus jest the +same. Sometimes y'll find a rope hangin' in the air. Sometimes ther's +a knife jabbin' around; sometimes ther's a gun wi' a light pull +waitin' handy, same as mine. But I figger all them things mean jest +'bout the same. It's death, pardner; an' it ain't easy neither. Say, +you an' me's pretty nigh that end. You 'special. Guess you're goin' to +pass over fust. Mebbe I'll pass over when I'm ready. It ain't jest +ne'sary fer the likes o' us to yarn Gospel wi' one another, but I'm +goin' to tell you somethin' as mebbe you're worritin' over jest 'bout +now. It's 'bout a feller's gal--his wife--which the same that feller +never did you no harm. But fust y'll put up them mitts o' yours, I +sees as they're gettin' oneasy, worritin' around as though they'd a +notion to git a grip on suthin'." + +The half-breed made no attempt to obey, but stared coldly into the +lean face before him. + +"Hands up!" roared Arizona, with such a dreadful change of tone that +the man's hands were thrust above his head as though a shot had struck +him. + +Arizona moved over to him and removed a heavy pistol from the man's +coat pocket, and then, having satisfied himself that he had no other +weapons concealed about him, dropped back to his original position. + +"Ah, I wus jest sayin', 'bout that feller's wife," he went on quietly. +"Say, you acted the skunk t'ward that feller. An' that feller wus me. +I don't say I wus jest a daisy husband fer that gal, but that wa'n't +your consarn. Wot's troublin' wus your monkeyin' around, waitin' so +he's out o' the way an' then vamoosin' wi' the wench an' all. Guess +I'm goin' to kill you fer that sure. But ther' ain't none o' the skunk +to me. I'm goin' to treat you as you wouldn't treat me ef I wus +settin' wher' you are, which I ain't. You're goin' to hit the One-Way +Trail. But you ken hit it like what you ain't, an' that's a man." + +Arizona's calm, judicial tone goaded his hearer. But "Tough" +McCulloch was not the man to shout. His was a deadlier composition +such as the open American hated and despised, and hardly understood. +He contented himself with a cynical remark which fired the other's +volcanic temper so that he could scarcely hold his hand. + +"Me good to her," he said, with a shrug. + +"You wus good to her, wus you? You who knew her man wus livin'! You, +as mebbe has ha'f a dozen wives livin'. You wus good to her! Wal, +you're goin' to pay now. Savee? You're goin' to pay fer your flutter +wi' chips, chips as drip wi' blood--your blood." + +The half-breed shrugged again. He was outwardly unconcerned, but +inwardly he was cursing the luck that he had been wearing mitts upon +his hands when he entered the bluff. He watched Arizona as he climbed +out of his saddle. He beheld the signs of weakness which the other +could no longer disguise, but they meant nothing to him, at least, +nothing that could serve him. He knew he must wait the cowpuncher's +pleasure; and why? The ring of white metal which marks the muzzle of a +gun has the power to hold brave man and coward alike. He dared not +move, and he was wise enough not to attempt it. + +Arizona drove his horse off into the bush, and stepped over to his +prisoner, who still remained mounted, halting abreast of the man's +stirrup and a few yards to one side of it. His features now wore the +shadow of a grim smile as he paused and looked into the face which +displayed so much assumed unconcern. + +"See this gun," he said, drawing attention to the one he held in his +right hand; "it's a forty-fi', an' I'm guessin' it's loaded in two +chambers." Then he scraped the snow off a small patch of the road with +his foot. "That gun I lay right here," he went on, stooping to deposit +it, but still keeping his eyes fixed upon the horseman. "Then I step +back, so," moving backward with long regular strides, "an' I reckon I +count fifteen paces. Then I clear another space," he added grimly, +like some fiendish conjurer describing the process of his tricks, "and +stand ready. Now, 'Tough' McCulloch, or Anton, or wotever you notion +best, skunk as you are, you're goin' to die decent. You're goin' to +die as a gentleman in a square fought duel. You're goin' to die in a +slap-up way as is a sight too good fer you, but don't go fer to make +no mistake--you're goin' to die. Yes, you're goin' to get off'n that +plug o' yours an' stand on that patch, an' I'm goin' to count three, +nice an' steady, one-two-three! Just so. An' then we're goin' to grab +up them guns an' let rip. I 'lows you'll fall first 'cause I'm goin' +to kill you--sure. Say, you'll 'blige me by gittin' off'n that plug." + +The half-breed made no move. His unconcern was leaving him under the +deliberate purpose of this man. + +"Git off o' that plug!" Arizona roared out his command with all the +force of his suppressed passion. + +The man obeyed instantly. And it was plain now that his courage was +deserting him. But in proportion his cunning rose. He made a pitiful +attempt at swagger as he walked up to his mark, and his fierce eyes +watched every movement of his opponent. And Arizona's evident +condition of starvation struck him forcibly, and the realization of +it suggested to his scheming brain a possible means of escape. + +"You mighty fine givin' chances, mister," he said, between his teeth. +"Maybe you sing different later. Bah! you make me laff. Say, I ready." + +"Yes, git right ahead an' laff," Arizona replied imperturbably. "An' +meanwhiles while you're laffin', I'll trouble you to git out o' that +sheep's hide. It ain't fit clothin' fer you noways. Howsum, it helps +to thicken your hide. Take it off." + +The half-breed obeyed and the two men now stood motionless. Arizona +was an impressive figure in that world of snow. Never before had his +personality been so marked. It may have been the purpose that moved +him that raised him to something superior to the lean, volcanic cowboy +he had hitherto been. His old slouching gait, in spite of his evident +weakness, was quite gone; his shaggy head was held erect, and he gazed +upon his enemy with eyes which the other could not face. For the time, +at least, the indelible stamp of his disastrous life was disguised by +the fire of his eyes and the set of his features. And this moral +strength he conveyed in every action in a manner which no violence, no +extent of vocabulary could have done. This man before him had robbed +him of the woman he had loved. He should die. + +His pistol was still in his hand. + +"When I say 'three,' you'll jest grab for your gun--an' fire," he said +solemnly. + +He relapsed into silence, and, after a moment's pause, slowly stooped +to deposit his weapon. His great roving eyes never relaxed their +vigilance, and all the while he watched the man before him. + +Lower he bent, and the pistol touched the ground. He straightened up +swiftly and stood ready. + +"One!" + +The half-breed started as though a sharp spasm of pain had convulsed +his body. Then he stood as if about to spring. + +"Two!" + +McCulloch moved again. He stooped with almost incredible swiftness and +seized his gun, and the next moment two loud reports rang out, and he +threw his smoking weapon upon the ground. + +Arizona had not moved, though his face had gone a shade paler. He knew +he was wounded. + +"Three!" + +The American bent and seized his gun as the other made a dash for his +horse. He stood up, and took deliberate aim. The half-breed was in the +act of swinging himself into his saddle. A shot rang out, and the +would-be fugitive's foot fell out of the stirrup, and his knees gave +under him. Another shot split the air, and, without so much as a +groan, the man fell in a heap upon the ground, while a thick red +stream flowed from a wound at his left temple. + +Then silence reigned once more. + +After a while the sound of a slouching gait disturbed the grim peace +of the lonely bluff. Arizona shuffled slowly off the road. He reached +the edge of the bush; but he went no further. For he reeled, and his +hands clasped his body somewhere about his chest. His eyes were half +closed, and his face looked ghastly in the wintry light. By a great +effort he steadied himself and abruptly sat down in the snow. He was +just off the track and his back was against a bush. + +Leaning forward he drew his knees up and clasped his arms about them, +and remained rocking himself slowly to and fro. And, as he sat, he +felt something moist and warm saturating his clothes about his chest. +Several times he nodded and his lips moved, and his eyelids fell lower +and lower until he saw nothing of what was about him. He knew it was +over for him and he was satisfied. + +He remained for some time in this attitude. Once he opened his eyes +and looked round, but, somehow, he drew no satisfaction from what he +beheld. The world about him seemed unsteady and strangely dark. The +snow was no longer white, but had turned gray, and momentarily it grew +darker. He thankfully reclosed his eyes and continued to nurse +himself. Now, too, his limbs began to grow cold, and to feel useless. +He had difficulty in keeping his hands fast about his knees, but he +felt easy, and even comfortable. There was something soothing to him +in that warm tide which he felt to be flowing from somewhere about his +chest. + +The minutes slipped away and the man's lips continued their silent +movement. Was he praying for the soul which he knew to be passing from +his body? It may have been so. It may have been that he was praying +for a girl and a man whom he had learned to love in the old days of +Mosquito Bend, and whom he was leaving behind him. This latter was +more than likely, for his was not a selfish nature. + +Again his eyes opened, and now they were quite unseeing; but the brain +behind them was still clear, for words, which were intelligible, came +slowly from his ashen lips. + +"It's over, I guess," he muttered. "Maybe life ain't wi'out gold for +some. I 'lows I ain't jest struck color right. Wal, I'm ready for the +reckonin'." + +His hands unclasped and his legs straightened themselves out. Like a +weary man seeking repose he turned over and lay with his face buried +in the snow. Nor did he move again. For Arizona had ended his journey +over the One-Way Trail. + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: + +Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise, +every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and +intent. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Night Riders, by Ridgwell Cullum + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NIGHT RIDERS *** + +***** This file should be named 29479-8.txt or 29479-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/4/7/29479/ + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +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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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 Night Riders + A Romance of Early Montana + +Author: Ridgwell Cullum + +Release Date: July 21, 2009 [EBook #29479] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NIGHT RIDERS *** + + + + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 336px;"> +<img src="images/icover.jpg" width="336" height="500" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<div class="centerbox bbox"> +<h1> The Night-Riders</h1> + +<h2> A Romance of Early Montana</h2> + +<div class="double"> </div> + +<h4>By</h4> + +<h3>RIDGWELL CULLUM</h3> + +<p class="center"> <i>Author of “The Watchers of the Plains,” “The<br /> + Sheriff of Dyke Hole,” “The Trail of the<br /> + Axe,” “The One-Way Trail,” etc.</i></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 101px;"> +<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="101" height="100" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="double"> </div> + +<h4>PHILADELPHIA</h4> +<h3>GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY</h3> +<h4>PUBLISHERS</h4></div> + +<hr class="large" /> +<p class="center">Copyright, 1913, by</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">George W. Jacobs & Company</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Published February, 1913</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved</i> Printed in U. S. A.</p> + +<hr class="large" /> +<p><a name="Frontispiece" id="Frontispiece"></a></p><div class="figcenter" style="width: 327px;"> +<img src="images/i003.jpg" class="ispace" width="327" height="500" alt="He took her in his powerful arms and drew her to his +breast" title="" /> +<span class="caption">He took her in his powerful arms and drew her to his +breast</span> +</div> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<div class="centered"><h2>Contents</h2> +<table border="0" width="60%" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" summary="CONTENTS"> + +<tr> +<td align="right">I.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">In the Hands of the Philistines</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#The_Night-Riders">9</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">II.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Mosquito Bend</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">26</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">III.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">The Blind Man</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">46</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IV.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">The Night-Riders</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">68</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">V.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Tresler Begins His Education</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">82</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VI.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">The Killing of Manson Orr</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">104</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VII.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Which Deals With the Matter of Drink</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">127</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">VIII.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Joe Nelson Indulges in a Little Match-making</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">141</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">IX.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Tresler Involves Himself Further; the<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Lady Jezebel in a Freakish Mood</span></span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">157</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">X.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">A Wild Ride</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">177</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XI.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">The Trail of the Night-Riders</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">192</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XII.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">The Rising of a Summer Storm</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">213</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XIII.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">The Bearding of Jake</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">232</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XIV.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">A Portentous Interview</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">248</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XV.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">At Willow Bluff</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">263</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XVI.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">What Love Will Do</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">285</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XVII.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">The Lighted Lamp</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">301</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XVIII.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">The Renunciation</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">315</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XIX.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Hot Upon the Trail</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">332</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XX.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">By the Light of the Lamp</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">349</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXI.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">At Widow Dangley’s</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">364</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXII.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">The Pursuit of Red Mask</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">381</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXIII.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">A Return to the Land of the Philistines</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">395</a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="right">XXIV.</td> +<td align="left"> <span class="smcap">Arizona</span></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">412</a></td></tr> + +</table></div> + +<hr class="large" /> + +<div class="centered"><h2>Illustrations</h2> +<table border="0" width="65%" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" summary="ILLUSTRATIONS"> + +<tr><td align="left">He Took Her in His Powerful Arms and Drew Her<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">to His Breast</span></td> +<td align="right" colspan="2"><a href="#Frontispiece"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">A Moment Later He Beheld Two Horsemen</td> +<td align="right"><i>Facing Page</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#illo1">74</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td align="left">Left Alone with her Patient, She had Little to Do<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">but Reflect</span></td> +<td align="right"><i>Facing Page</i></td> +<td align="right"><a href="#illo2">302</a></td> +</tr></table></div> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="The_Night-Riders" id="The_Night-Riders"></a>The Night-Riders</h2> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>IN THE HANDS OF THE PHILISTINES</h3> + +<p>Forks Settlement no longer occupies its place upon the ordnance map of +the state of Montana. At least not <i>the</i> Forks Settlement—the one +which nestled in a hollow on the plains, beneath the shadow of the +Rocky Mountains. It is curious how these little places do contrive to +slip off the map in the course of time. There is no doubt but that +they do, and are wholly forgotten, except, perhaps, by those who +actually lived or visited there. It is this way with all growing +countries, and anywhere from twenty to thirty years ago Montana was +distinctly a new country.</p> + +<p>It was about ’85 that Forks Settlement enjoyed the height of its +prosperity—a prosperity based on the supply of dry-goods and +machinery to a widely scattered and sparse population of small +ranchers and farmers. These things brought it into existence and kept +it afloat for some years. Then it gradually faded from existence—just +as such places do.</p> + +<p>When John Tresler rode into Forks he wondered what rural retreat he +had chanced upon. He didn’t wonder in those words, his language was +much more derogatory to the place than that.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>It was late one afternoon when his horse ambled gently on to the green +patch which served Forks as a market-place. He drew up and looked +around him for some one to give him information. The place was quite +deserted. It was a roasting hot day, and the people of Forks were not +given to moving about much on hot days, unless imperative business +claimed them. As there were only two seasons in the year when such a +thing was likely to happen, and this was not one of them, no one was +stirring.</p> + +<p>The sky was unshaded by a single cloud. Tresler was tired, stiff, and +consumed by a sponge-like thirst, for he was unused to long hours in +the saddle. And he had found a dreary monotony in riding over the +endless prairie lands of the West.</p> + +<p>Now he found himself surrounded by an uncertain circle of wooden +houses. None of them suggested luxury, but after the heaving rollers +of grass-land they suggested companionship and life. And just now that +was all the horseman cared about.</p> + +<p>He surveyed each house in turn, searching for a single human face. And +at last he beheld a window full of faces staring curiously at him from +the far side of the circle. It was enough. Touching his jaded horse’s +flanks he rode over toward it.</p> + +<p>Further life appeared now in the form of a small man who edged shyly +round the angle of the building and stood gazing at him. The stranger +was a queer figure. His face was as brown as the surface of a prairie +trail and just as scored with ruts. His long hair and flowing beard +were the color of matured hay. His dress <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>was simple and in keeping +with his face; moleskin trousers, worn and soiled, a blue serge shirt, +a shabby black jacket, and a fiery handkerchief about his neck, while +a battered prairie hat adorned the back of his head.</p> + +<p>Tresler pulled his horse up before this welcome vision and slid +stiffly to the ground, while the little man slanted his eyes over his +general outfit.</p> + +<p>“Is this Forks Settlement?” the newcomer asked, with an ingratiating +smile. He was a manly looking fellow with black hair and steel-blue +eyes; he was dressed in a plain Norfolk jacket and riding kit. He was +not particularly handsome, but possessed a strong, reliant face.</p> + +<p>The stranger closed his eyes in token of acquiescence.</p> + +<p>“Ur-hum,” he murmured.</p> + +<p>“Will you point me out the hotel?”</p> + +<p>The other’s eyes had finally settled themselves on the magnificent +pair of balloon-shaped corduroy riding-breeches Tresler was wearing, +which had now resettled themselves into their natural voluminous +folds.</p> + +<p>He made no audible reply. He was engrossed with the novel vision +before him. A backward jerk of the head was the only sign he permitted +himself.</p> + +<p>Tresler looked at the house indicated. He felt in some doubt, and not +without reason. The place was a mere two-storied shanty, all askew and +generally unpromising.</p> + +<p>“Can I—that is, does the proprietor take—er—guests?” he asked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p><p>“Guess Carney takes most anythin’,” came the easy reply.</p> + +<p>The door of the hotel opened and two men came out, eyeing the newcomer +and his horse critically. Then they propped themselves in leisurely +fashion against the door-casing, and chewed silently, while they gazed +abroad with marked unconcern.</p> + +<p>Tresler hazarded another question. He felt strange in this company. It +was his first real acquaintance with a prairie settlement, and he +didn’t quite know what to expect.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if there is any one to see to my horse,” he said with some +hesitation.</p> + +<p>“Hitch him to the tie-post an’ ast in ther’,” observed the +uncommunicative man, pointing to a post a few yards from the door, but +without losing interest in the other’s nether garments.</p> + +<p>“That sounds reasonable.”</p> + +<p>Tresler moved off and secured his horse and loosened the +saddle-girths.</p> + +<p>“Pardon me, sir,” he said, when he came back, his well-trimmed six +feet towering over the other’s five feet four. “Might I ask whom I +have the pleasure of addressing? My name is John Tresler; I am on my +way to Mosquito Bend, Julian Marbolt’s ranch. A stranger, you see, in +a strange land. No doubt you have observed that already,” he finished +up good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>But the other’s attention was not to be diverted from the interesting +spectacle of the corduroys, and he answered without shifting his gaze.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p><p>“My name’s Ranks—gener’ly called ‘Slum.’ Howdy.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Ranks——”</p> + +<p>“Gener’ly called ‘Slum,’” interrupted the other.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Slum, then——” Tresler smiled.</p> + +<p>“Slum!”</p> + +<p>The man’s emphasis was marked. There was no cheating him of his due. +“Slum” was his sobriquet by the courtesy of prairie custom. “Ranks” +was purely a paternal heirloom and of no consequence at all.</p> + +<p>“Well, Slum,” Tresler laughed, “suppose we go and sample Carney’s +refreshments. I’m tired, and possess a thirst.”</p> + +<p>He stepped toward the doorway and looked back. Mr. Ranks had not +moved. Only his wondering eyes had followed the other’s movements.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you join me?” Tresler asked. Then, noting the fixed stare in +the man’s eyes, he went on with some impatience, “What the dickens are +you staring at?” And, in self-defense, he was forced into a survey of +his own riding-breeches.</p> + +<p>Slum looked up. A twinkle of amusement shone beneath his heavy brows, +while a broad grin parted the hair on his face.</p> + +<p>“Oh, jest nothin’,” he said amiably. “I wer’ kind o’ figgerin’ out +what sort of a feller them pants o’ yours wus made for.” He doused the +brown earth at his feet with tobacco juice. Then shaking his head +thoughtfully, a look of solemn wonder replaced the grin. “Say,” he +added, “but he must ’a’ bin a dandy chunk of a man.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p><p>Tresler was about to reply. But a glance at Mr. Ranks, and an audible +snigger coming from the doorway, suddenly changed his mind. He swung +round to face a howl of laughter; and he understood.</p> + +<p>“The drinks are on me,” he said with some chagrin. “Come on, all of +you. Yes, I’m a ‘tenderfoot.’”</p> + +<p>And it was the geniality of his reply that won him a place in the +society of Forks Settlement at once. In five minutes his horse was +stabled and cared for. In five minutes he was addressing the occupants +of the saloon by their familiar nicknames. In five minutes he was +paying for whisky at an exorbitant price. In five minutes—well, he +sniffed his first breath of prairie habits and prairie ways.</p> + +<p>It is not necessary to delve deeply into the characters of these +citizens of Forks. It is not good to rake bad soil, the process is +always offensive. A mere outline is alone necessary. Ike Carney +purveyed liquor. A little man with quick, cunning eyes, and a mouth +that shut tight under a close-cut fringe of gray moustache. “Shaky” +Pindle, the carpenter, was a sad-eyed man who looked as gentle as a +disguised wolf. His big, scarred face never smiled, because, his +friends said, it was a physical impossibility for it to do so, and his +huge, rough body was as uncouth as his manners, and as unwieldy as his +slow-moving tongue. Taylor, otherwise “Twirly,” the butcher, was a man +so genial and rubicund that in five minutes you began to wish that he +was built like the lower animals that have no means of giving audible +expression to their good humor, or, if they have, there is no +necessity to notice it except by <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>a well-directed kick. And Slum, +quiet, unsophisticated Slum, shadier than the shadiest of them all, +but a man who took the keenest delight in the humors of life, and who +did wrong from an inordinate delight in besting his neighbors. A man +to smile at, but to avoid.</p> + +<p>These were the men John Tresler, fresh from Harvard and a generous +home, found himself associated with while he rested on his way to +Mosquito Bend.</p> + +<p>Ike Carney laid himself out to be pleasant.</p> + +<p>“Goin’ to Skitter Bend?” he observed, as he handed his new guest the +change out of a one hundred dollar bill. “Wal, it’s a tidy +layout;—ninety-five dollars, mister; a dollar a drink. You’ll find +that c’rect—best ranch around these parts. Say,” he went on, “the ol’ +blind hoss has hunched it together pretty neat. I’ll say that.”</p> + +<p>“Blind mule,” put in Slum, vaulting to a seat on the bar.</p> + +<p>“Mule?” questioned Shaky, with profound scorn. “Guess you ain’t worked +around his layout, Slum. Skunk’s my notion of him. I ’lows his +kickin’s most like a mule’s, but ther’ ain’t nothin’ more to the +likeness. A mule’s a hard-workin’, decent cit’zen, which ain’t off’n +said o’ Julian Marbolt.”</p> + +<p>Shaky swung a leg over the back of a chair and sat down with his arms +folded across it, and his heavy bearded chin resting upon them.</p> + +<p>“But you can’t expect a blind man to be the essence of amiability,” +said Tresler. “Think of his condition.”</p> + +<p>“See here, young feller,” jerked in Shaky, thrusting his chin-beard +forward aggressively. “Condition ain’t <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>to be figgered on when a man +keeps a great hulkin’, bulldozin’ swine of a foreman like Jake +Harnach. Say, them two, the blind skunk an’ Jake, ken raise more hell +in five minutes around that ranch than a tribe o’ neches on the +war-path. I built a barn on that place last summer, an’ I guess I +know.”</p> + +<p>“Comforting for me,” observed Tresler, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you ain’t like to git his rough edge,” put in Carney, easily.</p> + +<p>“Guess you’re payin’ a premium?” asked Shaky.</p> + +<p>“I’m going to have three years’ teaching.”</p> + +<p>“Three years o’ Skitter Bend?” said Slum, quietly. “Guess you’ll learn +a deal in three years o’ Skitter Bend.”</p> + +<p>The little man chewed the end of a cigar Tresler had presented him +with, while his twinkling eyes exchanged meaning glances with his +comrades. Twirly laughed loudly and backed against the bar, stretching +out his arms on either side of him, and gripping its moulded edge with +his beefy hands.</p> + +<p>“An’ you’re payin’ fer that teachin’?” the butcher asked +incredulously, when his mirth had subsided.</p> + +<p>“It seems the custom in this country to pay for everything you get,” +Tresler answered, a little shortly.</p> + +<p>He was being laughed at more than he cared about. Still he checked his +annoyance. He wanted to know something about the local reputation of +the rancher he had apprenticed himself to, so he fired a direct +question in amongst his audience.</p> + +<p>“Look here,” he said sharply. “What’s the game? What’s the matter with +this Julian Marbolt?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p><p>He looked round for an answer, which, for some minutes, did not seem +to be forthcoming.</p> + +<p>Slum broke the silence at last. “He’s blind,” he said quietly.</p> + +<p>“I know that,” retorted Tresler, impatiently. “It’s something else I +want to know.”</p> + +<p>He looked at the butcher, who only laughed. He turned on the +saloon-keeper, who shook his head. Finally he applied to Shaky.</p> + +<p>“Wal,” the carpenter began, with a ponderous air of weighing his +words. “I ain’t the man to judge a feller offhand like. I ’lows I know +suthin’ o’ the blind man o’ Skitter Bend, seein’ I wus workin’ +contract fer him all last summer. An’ wot I knows is—nasty. I’ve +see’d things on that ranch as made me git a tight grip on my axe, an’ +long a’mighty hard to bust a few heads in. I’ve see’d that all-fired +Jake Harnach, the foreman, hammer hell out o’ some o’ the hands, wi’ +tha’ blind man standin’ by jest as though his gummy eyes could see +what was doin’, and I’ve watched his ugly face workin’ wi e’very blow +as Jake pounded, ’cos o’ the pleasure it give him. I’ve see’d some o’ +those fellers wilter right down an’ grovel like yaller dorgs at their +master’s feet. I’ve see’d that butcher-lovin’ lot handle their hosses +an’ steers like so much dead meat—an’ wuss’n. I’ve see’d hell around +that ranch. ‘An’ why for,’ you asks, ‘do their punchers an’ hands +stand it?’ ‘’Cos,’ I answers quick, ‘ther’ ain’t a job on this +countryside fer ’em after Julian Marbolt’s done with ’em.’ That’s why. +‘Wher’ wus you workin’ around before?’ asks a foreman. ‘Skitter Bend,’ +says the puncher. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>‘Ain’t got nothin’ fer you,’ says the foreman +quick; ‘guess this ain’t no butcherin’ bizness!’ An’ that’s jest how +it is right thro’ with Skitter Bend,” Shaky finished up, drenching the +spittoon against the bar with consummate accuracy.</p> + +<p>“Right—dead right,” said Twirly, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>“Guess, mebbe, you’re prejudiced some,” suggested Carney, with an eye +on his visitor.</p> + +<p>“Shaky’s taken to book readin’,” said Slum, gently. “Guess dime +fiction gits a powerful holt on some folk.”</p> + +<p>“Dime fiction y’rself,” retorted Shaky, sullenly. “Mebbe young Dave +Steele as come back from ther’ with a hole in his head that left him +plumb crazy ever since till he died, ’cos o’ some racket he had wi’ +Jake—mebbe that’s out of a dime fiction. Say, you git right to it, +an’ kep on sousin’ whisky, Slum Ranks. You ken do that—you can’t tell +me ’bout the blind man.”</p> + +<p>A pause in the conversation followed while Ike dried some glasses. The +room was getting dark. It was a cheerless den. Tresler was +thoughtfully smoking. He was digesting and sifting what he had heard; +trying to separate fact from fiction in Shaky’s story. He felt that +there must be some exaggeration. At last he broke the silence, and all +eyes were turned on him.</p> + +<p>“And do you mean to say there is no law to protect people on these +outlying stations? Do you mean to tell me that men sit down quietly +under such dastardly tyranny?” His questions were more particularly +directed toward Shaky.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p><p>“Law?” replied the carpenter. “Law? Say, we don’t rec’nize no law +around these parts—not yet. Mebbe it’s comin’, but—I ’lows ther’s +jest one law at present, an’ that we mostly carries on us. Oh, Jake +Harnach’s met his match ’fore now. But ’tain’t frekent. Yes, Jake’s a +big swine, wi’ the muscle o’ two men; but I’ve seen him git downed, +and not a hund’ed mile from wher’ we’re settin’. Say, Ike,” he turned +to the man behind the bar, “you ain’t like to fergit the night Black +Anton called his ‘hand.’ Ther’ ain’t no bluff to Anton. When he gits +to the bizness end of a gun it’s best to get your thumbs up sudden.”</p> + +<p>The saloon-keeper nodded. “Guess there’s one man who’s got Jake’s +measure, an’ that’s Black Anton.”</p> + +<p>The butcher added a punctuating laugh, while Slum nodded.</p> + +<p>“And who’s Black Anton?” asked Tresler of the saloon-keeper.</p> + +<p>“Anton? Wal, I guess he’s Marbolt’s private hoss keeper. He’s a +half-breed. French-Canadian; an’ tough. Say, he’s jest as quiet an’ +easy you wouldn’t know he was around. Soft spoken as a woman, an’ jest +about as vicious as a rattler. Guess you’ll meet him. An’ I ’lows he’s +meetable—till he’s riled.”</p> + +<p>“Pleasant sort of man if he can cow this wonderful Jake,” observed +Tresler, quietly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, pleasant ’nough,” said Ike, mistaking his guest’s meaning.</p> + +<p>“The only thing I can’t understand ’bout Anton,” said Slum, suddenly +becoming interested, “is that he’s earnin’ his livin’ honest. He’s too +quiet, an’—an’ iley. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>He sort o’ slid into this territory wi’out a +blamed cit’zen of us knowin’. We’ve heerd tell of him sence from +’crost the border, an’ the yarns ain’t nice. I don’t figger to argue +wi’ strangers at no time, an’ when Anton’s around I don’t never git +givin’ no opinion till he’s done talkin’, when I mostly find mine’s +the same as his.”</p> + +<p>“Some folks ain’t got no grit,” growled Shaky, contemptuously.</p> + +<p>“An’ some folk ’a’ got so much grit they ain’t got no room fer savee,” +rapped in Slum sharply.</p> + +<p>“Meanin’ me,” said Shaky, sitting up angrily.</p> + +<p>“I ’lows you’ve got grit,” replied the little man quietly, looking +squarely into the big man’s eyes.</p> + +<p>“Go to h——”</p> + +<p>“Guess I’d as lief be in Forks; it’s warmer,” replied Slum, +imperturbably.</p> + +<p>“Stow yer gas! You nag like a widder as can’t git a second man.”</p> + +<p>“Which wouldn’t happen wi’ folk o’ your kidney around.”</p> + +<p>Shaky was on his feet in an instant, and his anger was blazing in his +fierce eyes.</p> + +<p>“Say, you gorl——”</p> + +<p>“Set right ther’, Shaky,” broke in Slum, as the big man sprang toward +him. “Set right ther’; ther’ ain’t goin’ to be no hoss-play.”</p> + +<p>Slum Ranks had not shifted his position, but his right hand had dived +into his jacket pocket and his eyes flashed ominously. And the +carpenter dropped back into his seat without a word.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p><p>And Tresler looked on in amazement. It was all so quick, so sudden. +There had hardly been a breathing space between the passing of their +good-nature and their swift-rising anger. The strangeness of it all, +the lawlessness, fascinated him. He knew he was on the fringe of +civilization, but he had had no idea of how sparse and short that +fringe was. He thought that civilization depended on the presence of +white folk. That, of necessity, white folk must themselves have the +instincts of civilization.</p> + +<p>Here he saw men, apparently good comrades all, who were ready, on the +smallest provocation, to turn and rend each other. It was certainly a +new life to him, something that perhaps he had vaguely dreamt of, but +the possibility of the existence of which he had never seriously +considered.</p> + +<p>But, curiously enough, as he beheld these things for himself for the +first time, they produced no shock, they disturbed him in nowise. It +all seemed so natural. More, it roused in him a feeling that such +things should be. Possibly this feeling was due to his own upbringing, +which had been that of an essentially athletic university. He even +felt the warm blood surge through his veins at the prospect of a +forcible termination to the two men’s swift passage of arms.</p> + +<p>But the ebullition died out as quickly as it had risen. Slum slid from +the bar to the ground, and his deep-set eyes were smiling again.</p> + +<p>“Pshaw,” he said, with a careless shrug, “ther’ ain’t nothin’ to grit +wi’out savee.”</p> + +<p>Shaky rose and stretched himself as though nothing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>had happened to +disturb the harmony of the meeting. The butcher relinquished his hold +on the bar and moved across to the window.</p> + +<p>“Guess the missis’ll be shoutin’ around fer you fellers to git your +suppers,” Slum observed cheerfully. Then he turned to Tresler. “Ike, +here, don’t run no boarders. Mebbe you’d best git around to my shack. +Sally’ll fix you up with a blanket or two, an’ the grub ain’t bad. You +see, I run a boardin’-house fer the boys—leastways, Sally does.”</p> + +<p>And Tresler adopted the suggestion. He had no choice but to do so. +Anyway, he was quite satisfied with the arrangement. He had entered +the life of the prairie and was more than willing to adopt its ways +and its people.</p> + +<p>And the recollection of that first night in Forks remained with him +when the memory of many subsequent nights had passed from him. It +stuck to him as only the first strong impressions of a new life can.</p> + +<p>He met Sally Ranks—she was two sizes too large for the dining-room of +the boarding-house—who talked in a shrieking nasal manner that cut +the air like a knife, and who heaped the plates with coarse food that +it was well to have a good appetite to face. He dined for the first +time in his life at a table that had no cloth, and devoured his food +with the aid of a knife and fork that had never seen a burnish since +they had first entered the establishment, and drank boiled tea out of +a tin cup that had once been enameled. He was no longer John Tresler, +fresh from the New England <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>States, but one of fourteen boarders, the +majority of whom doubled the necessary length of their sentences when +they conversed by reason of an extensive vocabulary of blasphemy, and +picked their teeth with their forks.</p> + +<p>But it was pleasant to him. He was surrounded by something approaching +the natural man. Maybe they were drawn from the dregs of society, but +nevertheless they had forcibly established their right to live—a +feature that had lifted them from the ruck of thousands of law-abiding +citizens. He experienced a friendly feeling for these ruffians. More, +he had a certain respect for them.</p> + +<p>After supper many of them drifted back to their recreation-ground, the +saloon. Tresler, although he had no inclination for drink, would have +done the same. He wished to see more of the people, to study them as a +man who wishes to prepare himself for a new part. But the quiet Slum +drew him back and talked gently to him; and he listened.</p> + +<p>“Say, Tresler,” the little man remarked offhandedly, “ther’s three +fellers lookin’ fer a gamble. Two of ’em ain’t a deal at ‘draw,’ the +other’s pretty neat. I tho’t, mebbe, you’d notion a hand up here wi’ +us. It’s better’n loafin’ down ’t the saloon. We most gener’ly play a +dollar limit.”</p> + +<p>And so it was arranged. Tresler stayed. He was initiated. He learned +the result of a game of “draw” in Forks, where the players made the +whole game of life a gamble, and attained a marked proficiency in the +art.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p><p>The result was inevitable. By midnight there were four richer citizens +in Forks, and a newcomer who was poorer by his change out of a +hundred-dollar bill. But Tresler lost quite cheerfully. He never +really knew how it was he lost, whether it was his bad play or bad +luck. He was too tired and sleepy long before the game ended. He +realized next morning, when he came to reflect, that in some +mysterious manner he had been done. However, he took his initiation +philosophically, making only a mental reservation for future guidance.</p> + +<p>That night he slept on a palliasse of straw, with a pillow consisting +of a thin bolster propped on his outer clothes. Three very yellow +blankets made up the tally of comfort. And the whole was spread out on +the floor of a room in which four other men were sleeping noisily.</p> + +<p>After breakfast he paid his bill, and, procuring his horse, prepared +for departure. His first acquaintance in Forks stood his friend to the +last. Slum it was who looked round his horse to see that the girths of +the saddle were all right; Slum it was who praised the beast in quiet, +critical tones; Slum it was who shook him by the hand and wished him +luck; Slum it was who gave him a parting word of advice; just as it +was Slum who had first met him with ridicule, cared for him—at a +price—during his sojourn, and quietly robbed him at a game he knew +little about. And Tresler, with the philosophy of a man who has that +within him which must make for achievement, smiled, shook hands +heartily and with good will, and quietly stored up the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>wisdom he had +acquired in his first night in Forks Settlement.</p> + +<p>“Say, Tresler,” exclaimed Slum, kindly, as he wrung his departing +guest’s hand, “I’m real glad I’ve met you. I ’lows, comin’ as you did, +you might ’a’ run dead into some durned skunk as hadn’t the manners +for dealin’ with a hog. There’s a hatful of ’em in Forks. S’long. Say, +ther’s a gal at Skitter Bend. She’s the ol’ blind boss’s daughter, an’ +she’s a dandy. But don’t git sparkin’ her wi’ the ol’ man around.”</p> + +<p>Tresler laughed. Slum amused him.</p> + +<p>“Good-bye,” he said. “Your kindness has taken a load—off my mind. I +know more than I did yesterday morning. No, I won’t get sparking the +girl with the old man around. See you again some time.”</p> + +<p>And he passed out of Forks.</p> + +<p>“That feller’s a decent—no, he’s a gentleman,” muttered Slum, staring +after the receding horseman. “Guess Skitter Bend’s jest about the +place fer him. He’ll bob out on top like a cork in a water bar’l. Say, +Jake Harnach’ll git his feathers trimmed or I don’t know a +‘deuce-spot’ from a ‘straight flush.’”</p> + +<p>Which sentiment spoke volumes for his opinion of the man who had just +left him.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>MOSQUITO BEND</h3> + +<p>Forks died away in a shimmering haze of heat as Tresler rode out over +the hard prairie trail. Ten miles they had told him it was to Mosquito +Bend; a ten-mile continuation of the undulating plains he had now +grown accustomed to. He allowed his horse to take it leisurely. There +was no great hurry for an early arrival.</p> + +<p>John Tresler had done what many an enterprising youngster from the New +England States has done since. At the age of twenty-five, finding +himself, after his university career at Harvard, with an excellent +training in all athletics, particularly boxing and wrestling and all +those games pertaining to the noble art of self-defense, but with only +a limited proficiency in matters relating to the earning of an +adequate living, he had decided to break new ground for himself on the +prairie-lands of the West. Stock-raising was his object, and, to this +end, he had sought out a ranch where he could thoroughly master the +craft before embarking on his own enterprise.</p> + +<p>It was through official channels that he had heard of Mosquito Bend as +one of the largest ranches in the country at the time, and he had at +once entered into negotiations with the owner, Julian Marbolt, for a +period of instruction. His present journey was the result.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p><p>He thought a good deal as his horse ambled over that ten miles. He +weighed the stories he had heard from Shaky, and picked them +threadbare. He reduced his efforts to a few pointed conclusions. +Things were decidedly rough at Mosquito Bend. Probably the brutality +was a case of brute force pitted against brute force—he had taken +into consideration the well-known disposition of the Western +cowpuncher—and, as such, a matter of regretable necessity for the +governing of the place. Shaky had in some way fallen foul of the +master and foreman and had allowed personal feelings to warp his +judgment. And, lastly, taking his “greenness” into account, he had +piled up the agony simply from the native love of the “old hand” for +scaring a newcomer.</p> + +<p>Tresler was no weakling or he would never have set out to shape his +own course as he was now doing. He was a man of considerable purpose, +self-reliant and reasonable, with sufficient easy good-nature to be +compatible with strength. He liked his own experiences too, though he +never scorned the experiences of another. Slum had sized him up pretty +shrewdly when he said “he’ll bob out on top like a cork in a water +bar’l,” but he had not altogether done him full justice.</p> + +<p>The southwestern trail headed slantwise for the mountains, which snowy +barrier bounded his vision to the west the whole of his journey. He +had watched the distant white-capped ramparts until their novelty had +worn off, and now he took their presence as a matter of course. His +eyes came back to the wide, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>almost limitless plains about him, and he +longed for the sight of a tree, a river, even a cultivated patch of +nodding wheat. But there was just nothing but the lank, tawny grass +for miles and miles, and the blazing sunlight that scorched him and +baked gray streaks of dusty sweat on his horse’s shoulders and flanks.</p> + +<p>He rode along dreaming, as no doubt hundreds of others have dreamt +before and since. There was nothing new or original about his dreams, +for he was not a man given to romance. He was too direct and practical +for that. No, his were just the thoughts of a young man who has left +his home, which thereby gains in beauty as distance lends enchantment +to it, and kindly recollection crowns it with a glory that it could +never in reality possess.</p> + +<p>Without indication or warning, he came upon one of those strangely +hidden valleys in which the prairie near the Rockies abounds. He found +himself at the edge of it, gazing down upon a wide woodland-bound +river, which wound away to the east and west like the trail of some +prehistoric monster. The murmur of the flowing waters came to him with +such a suggestion of coolness and shade that, for the first time on +his long journey from Whitewater, he was made to forget the park-like +beauties of his own native land.</p> + +<p>There was a delightful variation of color in the foliage down there. +Such a density of shadow, such a brilliancy. And a refreshing breeze +was rustling over the tree-tops, a breath he had longed for on the +plains but had never felt. The opposite side was lower. He stood on a +sort of giant step. A wall that divided the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>country beyond from the +country he was leaving. A wall that seemed to isolate those who might +live down there and shut them out as though theirs was another world.</p> + +<p>He touched his horse’s flanks, and, with careful, stilted steps, the +animal began the descent. And now he speculated as to the whereabouts +of the ranch, for he knew that this was the Mosquito River, and +somewhere upon its banks stood his future home. As he thought of this +he laughed. His future home; well, judging by what he had been told, +it would certainly possess the charm of novelty.</p> + +<p>He was forced to give up further speculation for a while. The trail +descended so sharply that his horse had to sidle down it, and the +loose shingle under its feet set it sliding and slipping dangerously.</p> + +<p>In a quarter of an hour he drew up on the river bank and looked about +him. Whither? That was the question. He was at four crossroads. East +and west, along the river bank; and north and south, the way he had +come and across the water.</p> + +<p>Along the bank the woods were thick and dark, and the trail split them +like the aisle of an aged Gothic church. The surface of red sand was +hard, but there were marks of traffic upon it. Then he looked across +the river at the distant rolling plains.</p> + +<p>“Of course,” he said aloud. “Who’s going to build a ranch on this +side? Where could the cattle run?”</p> + +<p>And he put his horse at the water and waded across without further +hesitation. Beyond the river the road bent away sharply to the right, +and cut through a wide <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>avenue of enormous pine trees, and along this +he bustled his horse. Half a mile further on the avenue widened. The +solemn depths about him lightened, and patches of sunlight shone down +into them and lit up the matted underlay of rotting cones and +pine-needles which covered the earth.</p> + +<p>The road bent sharply away from the river, revealing a scrub of low +bush decorated with a collection of white garments, evidently set out +to dry. His horse shied at the unusual sight, and furthermore took +exception to the raucous sound of a man’s voice chanting a dismal +melody, somewhere away down by the river on his right.</p> + +<p>In this direction he observed a cattle-path. And the sight of it +suggested ascertaining the identity of the doleful minstrel. No doubt +this man could give him the information he needed. He turned off the +road and plunged into scrub. And at the river bank he came upon a +curious scene. There was a sandy break in the bush, and the bank +sloped gradually to the water’s edge. Three or four wash-tubs, grouped +together in a semicircle, stood on wooden trestles, and a +quaint-looking little man was bending over one of them washing +clothes, rubbing and beating a handful of garments on a board like any +washerwoman. His back was turned to the path, and he faced the river. +On his right stood an iron furnace and boiler, with steam escaping +from under the lid. And all around him the bushes were hung with +drying clothes.</p> + +<p>“Hello!” cried Tresler, as he slipped to the ground.</p> + +<p>“Holy smoke!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p><p>The scrubbing and banging had ceased, and the most curiously twisted +face Tresler had ever seen glanced back over the man’s bowed shoulder. +A red, perspiring face, tufted at the point of the chin with a knot of +gray whisker, a pair of keen gray eyes, and a mouth—yes, it was the +mouth that held Tresler’s attention. It went up on one side, and had +somehow got mixed up with his cheek, while a suggestion of it was +continued by means of a dark red scar right up to the left eye.</p> + +<p>For a second or two Tresler could not speak, he was so astonished, so +inclined to laugh. And all the while the gray eyes took him in from +head to foot; then another exclamation, even more awestruck, broke +from the stranger.</p> + +<p>“Gee-whizz!”</p> + +<p>And Tresler sobered at once.</p> + +<p>“Where’s Mosquito Bend Ranch?” he asked.</p> + +<p>The little man dropped his washing and turned round, propping himself +against the edge of the tub.</p> + +<p>“Skitter Bend Ranch?” he echoed slowly, as though the meaning of the +question had not penetrated to his intellect. Then a subdued whisper +followed. “Gee, but I——” And he looked down at his own clothes as +though to reassure himself.</p> + +<p>Tresler broke in; he understood the trend of the other’s thoughts.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mosquito Bend,” he said sharply.</p> + +<p>“Nigh to a mile on. Keep to the trail, an’ you’ll strike Blind Hell in +a few minutes. Say——” He broke off, and looked up into Tresler’s +face.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p><p>“Yes, I’m going there. You don’t happen to belong to—to Blind Hell?”</p> + +<p>“Happen I do,” assured the washerman. “I do the chores around the +ranch. Joe Nelson, once a stock raiser m’self. Kerrville, Texas. +Now——” He broke off, and waved a hand in the direction of the drying +clothes.</p> + +<p>“Well, I’m John Tresler, and I’m on my way to Mosquito Bend.”</p> + +<p>“So you’re the ‘tenderfoot,’” observed the choreman, musingly. “You’re +the feller from Noo England as Jake’s goin’ to lick into shape.”</p> + +<p>“Going to teach, you mean.”</p> + +<p>“I s’pose I do,” murmured the other gently, but without conviction. +The twisted side of his face wrinkled hideously, while the other side +smiled.</p> + +<p>“You mentioned Blind Hell just now?” questioned Tresler, as the other +relapsed into a quiet survey of him.</p> + +<p>“Blind Hell, did I?” said Nelson, repeating the name, a manner which +seemed to be a habit of his.</p> + +<p>“Yes. What is it? What did you mean?”</p> + +<p>Tresler’s questions were a little peremptory. He felt that the +riding-breeches that had caused such notice in Forks were likely to +bring him further ridicule.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s jest a name. ’Tain’t of no consequence. Say,” the choreman +broke out suddenly, “you don’t figger to git boostin’ steers in that +rig?” He stretched out an abnormally long arm, and pointed a rough but +wonderfully clean finger at the flowing corduroys Tresler had now +become so sensitive about.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p><p>“Great Scott, man!” he let out testily. “Have you never seen +riding-breeches before?—you, a ranchman.”</p> + +<p>The tufted beard shot sideways again as the face screwed up and half +of it smiled.</p> + +<p>“I do allow I’ve seen such things before. Oncet,” he drawled slowly, +with a slight Southern accent, but in a manner that betokened a speech +acquired by association rather than the natural tongue. “He was a +feller that came out to shoot big game up in the hills. I ain’t seen +him sence, sure. Guess nobody did.” He looked away sadly. “We heerd +tell of him. Guess he got fossicking after b’ar. The wind was blowin’ +ter’ble. He’d climbed a mount’n. It was pretty high. Ther’ wa’n’t no +shelter. A gust o’ that wind come an’—took him.”</p> + +<p>Nelson had turned back to his tubs, and was again banging and rubbing.</p> + +<p>“A mile down the trail, I think you said?” Tresler cried, springing +hastily into the saddle.</p> + +<p>“Sure.”</p> + +<p>And for the first time Tresler’s horse felt the sharp prick of the +spurs as he rode off.</p> + +<p>Mosquito Bend Ranch stood in a wide clearing, with the house on a +rising ground above it. It was lined at the back by a thick pinewood. +For the rest the house faced out on to the prairie, and the verandahed +front overlooked the barns, corrals, and outhouses. It stood apart, +fully one hundred yards from the nearest outbuildings.</p> + +<p>This was the first impression Tresler obtained on arrival. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>The second +was that it was a magnificent ranch and the proprietor must be a +wealthy man. The third was one of disappointment; everything was so +quiet, so still. There was no rush or bustle. No horsemen riding +around with cracking whips; no shouting, no atmosphere of wildness. +And, worst of all, there were no droves of cattle tearing around. Just +a few old milch cows near by, peacefully grazing their day away, and +philosophically awaiting milking time. These, and a few dogs, a horse +or two loose in the corrals, and a group of men idling outside a low, +thatched building, comprised the life he first beheld as he rode into +the clearing.</p> + +<p>“And this is Blind Hell,” he said to himself as he came. “It belies +its name. A more peaceful, beautiful picture, I’ve never clapped eyes +on.”</p> + +<p>And then his thoughts went back to Forks. That too had looked so +innocent. After all, he remembered, it was the people who made or +marred a place.</p> + +<p>So he rode straight to a small, empty corral, and, off-saddling, +turned his horse loose, and deposited his saddle and bridle in the +shadow of the walls. Then he moved up toward the buildings where the +men were grouped.</p> + +<p>They eyed him steadily as he came, much as they might eye a strange +animal, and he felt a little uncomfortable as he recollected his +encounter first with Slum and more recently with Joe Nelson. He had +grown sensitive about his appearance, and a spirit of defiance and +retaliation awoke within him.</p> + +<p>But for some reason the men paid little attention to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>him just then. +One man was talking, and the rest were listening with rapt interest. +They were cowpunchers, every one. Cowpunchers such as Tresler had +heard of. Some were still wearing their fringed “chapps,” their waists +belted with gun and ammunition; some were in plain overalls and thin +cotton shirts. All, except one, were tanned a dark, ruddy hue, +unshaven, unkempt, but tough-looking and hardy. The pale-faced +exception was a thin, sick-looking fellow with deep hollows under his +eyes, and lips as ashen as a corpse. He it was who was talking, and +his recital demanded a great display of dramatic gesture.</p> + +<p>Tresler came up and joined the group. “I never ast to git put up +ther’,” he heard the sick man saying; “never ast, an’ didn’t want. It +was her doin’s, an’ I tell you fellers right here she’s jest thet +serrupy an’ good as don’t matter. I’d ’a’ rotted down here wi’ flies +an’ the heat for all they’d ’a’ cared. That blind son of a —— ’ud +’a’ jest laffed ef I’d handed over, an’ Jake—say, we’ll level our +score one day, sure. Next time Red Mask, or any other hoss thief, gits +around, I’ll bear a hand drivin’ off the bunch. I ain’t scrappin’ no +more fer the blind man. Look at me. Guess I ain’t no more use’n yon +‘tenderfoot.’” The speaker pointed scornfully at Tresler, and his +audience turned and looked. “Guess I’ve lost quarts o’ blood, an’ have +got a hole in my chest ye couldn’t plug with a corn-sack. An’ now, +jest when I’m gittin’ to mend decent, he comes an’ boosts me right out +to the bunkhouse ’cause he ketches me yarnin’ wi’ that bit of a gal o’ +his. But, say, she just let out on him that neat as <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>you fellers never +heerd. Yes, sir, guess her tongue’s like velvet mostly, but when she +turned on that blind hulk of a father of hers—wal, ther’, ef I was a +cat an’ had nine lives to give fer her they jest wouldn’t be enough by +a hund’ed.”</p> + +<p>“Say, Arizona,” said one of the men quietly, “what was you yarnin’ +’bout? Guess you allus was sweet on Miss Dianny.”</p> + +<p>Arizona turned on the speaker fiercely. “That’ll do fer you, Raw; +mebbe you ain’t got savee, an’ don’t know a leddy when you sees one. +I’m a cow-hand, an’ good as any man around here, an’ ef you’ve any +doubts about it, why——”</p> + +<p>“Don’t take no notice, Arizona,” put in a lank youth quickly. He was a +tall, hungry-looking boy, in that condition of physical development +when nature seems in some doubt as to her original purpose. “’E’s only +laffin’ at you.”</p> + +<p>“Guess Mister Raw Harris ken quit right here then, Teddy. I ain’t +takin’ his slack noways.”</p> + +<p>“Git on with the yarn, Arizona,” cried another. “Say, wot was you +sayin’ to the gal?”</p> + +<p>“Y’ see, Jacob,” the sick man went on, falling back into his drawling +manner, “it wus this ways. Miss Dianny, she likes a feller to git +yarnin’, an’, seein’ as I’ve been punchin’ most all through the +States, she kind o’ notioned my yarns. Which I ’lows is reasonable. +She’d fixed my chest up, an’ got me trussed neat an’ all, an’ set +right down aside me fer a gas. You know her ways, kind o’ sad an’ +saft. Wal, she up an’ tells me how she’d like gittin’ in to Whitewater +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>next winter, an’ talked o’ dances an’ sech. Say, she wus jest +whoopin’ wi’ the pleasure o’ the tho’t of it. Guess likely she’d be +mighty pleased to git a-ways. Wal, I don’t jest know how it come, but +I got yarnin’ of a barbecue as was held down Arizona way. I was +tellin’ as how I wus ther’, an’ got winged nasty. It wa’n’t much. Y’ +see I was tellin’ her as I wus runnin’ a bit of a hog ranch them +times, an’, on o-casions, we used to give parties. The pertickler +party I wus referrin’ to wus a pretty wholesome racket. The boys got +good an’ drunk, an’ they got slingin’ the lead frekent ’fore daylight +come around. Howsum, it wus the cause o’ the trouble as I wus gassin’ +’bout. Y’ see, Brown was one of them juicy fellers that chawed hunks +o’ plug till you could nose Virginny ev’ry time you got wi’in gunshot +of him. He was a cantankerous cuss was Brown, an’ a deal too free wi’ +his tongue. Y’ see he’d a lady with him; leastways she wus the +pot-wolloper from the saloon he favored, an’ he guessed as she wus +most as han’some as a Bible ’lustration. Wal, ’bout the time the +rotgut wus flowin’ good an’ frekent, they started in to pool fer the +prettiest wench in the room, as is the custom down ther’. Brown, he +wus dead set on his gal winnin’, I guess; an’ ‘Dyke Hole’ Bill, he’d +got a pretty tidy filly wi’ him hisself, an’ didn’t reckon as no daisy +from a bum saloon could gi’ her any sort o’ start. Wal, to cut it +short, I guess the boys went dead out fer Bill’s gal. It wus voted as +ther’ wa’n’t no gal around Spawn City as could dec’rate the country +wi’ sech beauty. I guess things went kind o’ silent when Shaggy Steele +read the ballot. The air o’ that place got <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>uneasy. I located the door +in one gulp. Y’ see Brown was allus kind o’ sudden. But the trouble +come diff’rent. The thing jest dropped, an’ that party hummed fer a +whiles. Brown’s gal up an’ let go. Sez she, ‘Here, guess I’m the dandy +o’ this run, an’ I ain’t settin’ around while no old hen from Dyke +Hole gits scoopin’ prizes. She’s goin’ to lick me till I can’t see, ef +she’s yearnin’ fer that pool. Mebbe you boys won’t need more’n half an +eye to locate the winner when I’m done.’ Wi’ that she peels her waist +off’n her, an’ I do allow she wus a fine chunk. An’ the ‘Dyke Hole’ +daisy, she wa’n’t no slouch; guess she wus jest bustin’ wi’ fight. But +Brown sticks his taller-fat nose in an’ shoots his bazzoo an’——</p> + +<p>“An’ that’s most as fer as I got when along comes that all-fired +‘dead-eyes’ an’ points warnin’ at me while he ogled me with them gummy +red rims o’ his. An’, sez he, ‘You light right out o’ here sharp, +Arizona; the place fer you scum’s down in the bunkhouse. An’ I’m not +goin’ to have any skulkin’ up here, telling disreputable yarns to my +gal.’ I wus jest beginnin’ to argyfy. ‘But,’ sez I. An’ he cut me +short wi’ a curse. ’Out of here!’ he roared. ‘I give you ten minutes +to git!’ Then she, Miss Dianny, bless her, she turned on him quick, +an’ dressed him down han’some. Sez she, ‘Father, how can you be so +unkind after what Arizona has done for you? Remember,’ sez she, ‘he +saved you a hundred head of cattle, and fought Red Mask’s gang until +help came and he fell from his horse.’ Oh, she was a dandy, and heaped +it on like bankin’ a furnace. She cried lots an’ lots, but it didn’t +signify. Out I wus <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>to git, an’ out I got. An’ now I’ll gamble that +swine Jake’ll try and set me to work. But I’ll level him—sure.”</p> + +<p>One of the men, Lew Cawley, laughed silently, and then put in a +remark. Lew was a large specimen of the fraternity, and history said +that he was the son of an English cleric. But history says similar +things of many ne’er-do-wells in the Northwest. He still used the +accent of his forebears.</p> + +<p>“Old blind-hunks knows something. With all respect, Arizona has +winning ways; but,” he added, before the fiery Southerner could +retort, “if I mistake not, here comes Jake to fulfil Arizona’s +prophecy.”</p> + +<p>Every one swung round as Lew nodded in the direction of the house. A +huge man of about six feet five was striding rapidly down the slope. +Tresler, who had been listening to the story on the outskirts of the +group, eyed the newcomer with wonder. He came at a gait in which every +movement displayed a vast, monumental strength. He had never seen such +physique in his life. The foreman was still some distance off, and he +could not see his face, only a great spread of black beard and +whisker. So this was the much-cursed Jake Harnach, and, he thought +without any particular pleasure, his future boss.</p> + +<p>There was no further talk. Jake Harnach looked up and halted. Then he +signaled, and a great shout came to the waiting group.</p> + +<p>“Hi! hi! you there! You with the pants!”</p> + +<p>A snigger went round the gathering, and Tresler knew that it was he +who was being summoned. He <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>turned away to hide his annoyance, but was +given no chance of escape.</p> + +<p>“Say, send that guy with the pants along!” roared the foreman. And +Tresler was forced into unwilling compliance.</p> + +<p>And thus the two men, chiefly responsible for the telling of this +story of Mosquito Bend, met. The spirit of the meeting was +antagonistic; a spirit which, in the days to come, was to develop into +a merciless hatred. Nor was the reason far to seek, nor could it have +been otherwise. Jake looked out upon the world through eyes that +distorted everything to suit his own brutal nature, while Tresler’s +simple manliness was the result of his youthful training as a public +schoolboy.</p> + +<p>The latter saw before him a man of perhaps thirty-five, a man of +gigantic stature, with a face handsome in its form of features, but +disfigured by the harsh depression of the black brows over a pair of +hard, bold eyes. The lower half of his face was buried beneath a beard +so dense and black as to utterly disguise the mould of his mouth and +chin, thus leaving only the harsh tones of his voice as a clue to what +lay hidden there.</p> + +<p>His dress was unremarkable but typical—moleskin trousers, a thin +cotton shirt, a gray tweed jacket, and a silk handkerchief about his +neck. He carried nothing in the shape of weapons, not even the usual +leather belt and sheath-knife. And in this he was apart from the +method of his country, where the use of firearms was the practice in +disputes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p><p>On his part, Jake looked upon a well-built man five inches his +inferior in stature, but a man of good proportions, with a pair of +shoulders that suggested possibilities. But it was the steady look in +the steel-blue eyes which told him most. There was a simple directness +in them which told of a man unaccustomed to any browbeating; and, as +he gazed into them, he made a mental note that this newcomer must be +reduced to a proper humility at the earliest opportunity.</p> + +<p>There was no pretense of courtesy between them. Neither offered to +shake hands. Jake blurted out his greeting in a vicious tone.</p> + +<p>“Say, didn’t you hear me callin’?” he asked sharply.</p> + +<p>“I did.” And the New Englander looked quietly into the eyes before +him, but without the least touch of bravado or of yielding.</p> + +<p>“Then why in h—— didn’t you come?”</p> + +<p>“I was not to know you were calling me.”</p> + +<p>“Not to know?” retorted the other roughly. “I guess there aren’t two +guys with pants like yours around the ranch. Now, see right here, +young feller, you’ll just get a grip on the fact that I’m foreman of +this layout, and, as far as the ‘hands’ are concerned, I’m boss. When +I call, you come—and quick.”</p> + +<p>The man towered over Tresler in a bristling attitude. His hands were +aggressively thrust into his jacket pockets, and he emphasized his +final words with a scowl. And it was his attitude that roused Tresler; +the words were the words of an overweening bully, and might have been +laughed at, but the attitude said more, and no man likes to be +browbeaten. His anger leapt, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>and, though he held himself tightly, it +found expression in the biting emphasis of his reply.</p> + +<p>“When I’m one of the ‘hands,’ yes,” he said incisively.</p> + +<p>Jake stared. Then a curious sort of smile flitted across his features.</p> + +<p>“Hah!” he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>And Tresler went on with cold indifference. “And, in the meantime, I +may as well say that the primary object of my visit is to see Mr. +Marbolt, not his foreman. That, I believe,” he added, pointing to the +building on the hill, “is his house.”</p> + +<p>Without waiting for a reply he stepped aside, and would have moved on. +But Jake had swung round, and his hand fell heavily upon his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“No, you don’t, my dandy cock!” he cried violently, his fingers +painfully gripping the muscle under the Norfolk jacket.</p> + +<p>Springing aside, and with one lithe twist, in a flash Tresler had +released himself, and stood confronting the giant with blazing eyes +and tense drawn muscles.</p> + +<p>“Lay a hand on me again, and there’ll be trouble,” he said sharply, +and there was an oddly furious burr in his speech.</p> + +<p>The foreman stood for a moment as words failed him. Then his fury +broke loose.</p> + +<p>“I told you jest now,” he cried, falling back into the twang of the +country as his rage mastered him, “that I run this layout——”</p> + +<p>“And I tell you,” broke in the equally angry Tresler, “that I’ve +nothing to do with you or the ranch either <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>until I have seen your +master. And I’ll have you know that if there’s any bulldozing to be +done, you can keep it until I am one of the ‘hands.’ You shan’t lack +opportunity.”</p> + +<p>The tone was as scathing as the violence of his anger would permit. He +had not moved, except to thrust his right hand into his jacket pocket, +while he measured the foreman with his eyes and watched his every +movement.</p> + +<p>He saw Harnach hunch himself as though to spring at him. He saw the +great hands clench at his sides and his arms draw up convulsively. He +saw the working face and the black eyes as they half closed and +reduced themselves to mere slits beneath the overshadowing brows. Then +the hoarse, rage-choked voice came.</p> + +<p>“By G——! I’ll smash you, you——”</p> + +<p>“I shouldn’t say it.” Tresler’s tone had suddenly changed to one of +icy coldness. The flash of a white dress had caught his eye. “There’s +a lady present,” he added abruptly. And at the same time he released +his hold on the smooth butt of a heavy revolver he had been gripping +in his pocket.</p> + +<p>What might have happened but for the timely interruption it would be +impossible to say. Jake’s arms dropped to his sides, and his attitude +relaxed with a suddenness that was almost ludicrous. The white dress +fluttered toward him, and Tresler turned and raised his prairie hat. +He gave the foreman no heed whatever. The man might never have been +there. He took a step forward.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p><p>“Miss Marbolt, I believe,” he said. “Forgive me, but it seems that, +being a stranger, I must introduce myself. I am John Tresler. I have +just been performing the same ceremony for your father’s foreman’s +benefit. Can I see Mr. Marbolt?”</p> + +<p>He was looking down into what he thought at the moment was the +sweetest, saddest little face he had ever seen. It was dark with +sunburn, in contrast with the prim white drill dress the girl wore, +and her cheeks were tinged with a healthy color which might have been +a reflection of the rosy tint of the ribbon about her neck. But it was +the quiet, dark brown eyes, half wistful and wholly sad, and the +slight droop at the corners of the pretty mouth, that gave him his +first striking impression. She was a delightful picture, but one of +great melancholy, quite out of keeping with her youth and fresh +beauty.</p> + +<p>She looked up at him from under the brim of a wide straw sun-hat, +trimmed with a plain silk handkerchief, and pinned to her wealth of +curling brown hair so as to give her face the utmost shade. Then she +frankly held out her hand in welcome to him, whilst her eyes +questioned his, for she had witnessed the scene between the two men +and overheard their words. But Tresler listened to her greeting with a +disarming smile on his face.</p> + +<p>“Welcome, Mr. Tresler,” she said gravely. “We have been expecting you. +But I’m afraid you can’t see father just now. He’s sleeping. He always +sleeps in the afternoon. You see, daylight or night, it makes no +difference to him. He’s blind. He has drifted into <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>a curious habit of +sleeping in the day as well as at night. Possibly it is a blessing, +and helps him to forget his affliction. I am always careful, in +consequence, not to waken him. But come along up to the house; you +must have some lunch, and, later, a cup of tea.”</p> + +<p>“You are awfully kind.”</p> + +<p>Tresler watched a troubled look that crept into the calm expression of +her eyes. Then he looked on while she turned and dismissed the +discomfited foreman.</p> + +<p>“I shan’t ride this afternoon, Jake,” she said coldly. “You might have +Bessie shod for me instead. Her hoofs are getting very long.” Then she +turned again to her guest. “Come, Mr. Tresler.”</p> + +<p>And the New Englander readily complied.</p> + +<p>Nor did he even glance again in the direction of the foreman.</p> + +<p>Jake cursed, not audibly, but with such hateful intensity that even +the mat of beard and moustache parted, and the cruel mouth and +clenched teeth beneath were revealed. His eyes, too, shone with a +diabolical light. For the moment Tresler was master of the situation, +but, as Jake had said, he was “boss” of that ranch. “Boss” with him +did not mean “owner.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>THE BLIND MAN</h3> + +<p>Tresler was unfeignedly glad to leave Jake Harnach behind him, but he +looked very serious as he and his companion moved on to the house. The +result of his meeting with the foreman would come back on him later, +he knew, and it was as well that he was prepared. The meeting had been +unfortunate, but, judging by what he had heard of Jake in Forks, he +must inevitably have crossed the bully sooner or later; Jake himself +would have seen to that.</p> + +<p>Diane Marbolt paused as she came to the verandah. They had not spoken +since their greeting. Now she turned abruptly, and quietly surveyed +her guest. Nor was there any rudeness in her look. Tresler felt that +he was undergoing a silent cross-examination, and waited, quietly +smiling down at her from his superior height.</p> + +<p>At last she smiled up at him and nodded.</p> + +<p>“Will I do?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I think so.”</p> + +<p>It was a curious position, and they both laughed. But in the girl’s +manner there was no levity.</p> + +<p>“You are not sure? Is there anything wrong about me? My—my dress, for +instance?” Tresler laughed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>again; he had missed the true significance +of his companion’s attitude toward him.</p> + +<p>Just for a moment the dark little face took on a look of perplexity. +Then the pucker of the brows smoothed out, and she smiled demurely as +she answered.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I see—no,” doubtfully. Then more decidedly, “No. You see, you +are a ‘tenderfoot.’ You’ll get over it later on.”</p> + +<p>And the last barrier of formality was set aside.</p> + +<p>“Good,” exclaimed Tresler, emphatically. “We are going to be friends, +Miss Marbolt. I knew it. It was only that I feared that ‘they’ might +ruin my chances of your approbation. You see, they’ve already caused +me—er—trouble.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I think we shall be friends,” Diane answered quietly. “In the +meantime, come along into the house and have your lunch. It is ready, +I saw you coming and so prepared it at once. You will not mind if I +sit and look on while you eat. I have had mine. I want to talk to you +before you see my father.”</p> + +<p>There was distinct anxiety in her manner. More surely than all, her +eyes betrayed her uneasiness. However, he gave no sign, contenting +himself with a cordial reply.</p> + +<p>“You are very kind. I too should like a chat. You see, I am a +‘tenderfoot,’ and you have been kind enough to pass over my +shortcomings.”</p> + +<p>Diane led the way into the house. And Tresler, following her, was +struck with the simple comfort of this home in the wilds. It was a +roomy two-storied house, unpretentious, but very capacious. They +entered <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>through one of three French windows what was evidently a +useful sort of drawing-room-parlor. Beyond this they crossed a +hallway, the entrance door of which stood open, and passed into a +dining-room, which, in its turn, opened directly into a kitchen +beyond. This room looked out on the woods at the back. Diane explained +that her father’s sanctum was in front of this, while behind the +parlor was his bedroom, opposite the dining-room and kitchen. The +rooms up-stairs were bedrooms, and her own private parlor.</p> + +<p>“You see, we keep no female servants, Mr. Tresler,” the girl said, as +she brought a pot of steaming coffee from the kitchen and set it on +the table. “I am housekeeper. Joe Nelson, the choreman, is my helper +and does all the heavy work. He’s quite a character.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know. I’ve met him,” observed Tresler, dryly.</p> + +<p>“Ah! Try that ham. I don’t know about the cold pie, it may be tough. +Yes, old Joe is an Englishman; at least, he was, but he’s quite +Americanized now. He spent forty years in Texas. He’s really an +educated man. Owned a nice ranch and got burned out. I’m very fond of +him; but it isn’t of Joe I want to talk.”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>The man helped himself to the ham and veal pie, and found it anything +but tough.</p> + +<p>Diane seated herself in a chair with her back to the uncurtained +window, through which the early summer sun was staring.</p> + +<p>“You have met Jake Harnach and made an enemy <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>of him,” she said +suddenly, and with simple directness.</p> + +<p>“Yes; the latter must have come anyway.”</p> + +<p>The girl sighed, and her eyes shone with a brooding light. And +Tresler, glancing at her, recognized the sadness of expression he had +noticed at their first meeting, and which, he was soon to learn, was +habitual to her.</p> + +<p>“I suppose so,” she murmured in response. Then she roused herself, and +spoke almost sharply. “What would you have done had he struck you? He +is a man of colossal strength.”</p> + +<p>Tresler laughed easily. “That depends. I’m not quite sure. I should +probably have done my best to retaliate. I had an alternative. I might +have shot him.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” the girl said with impulsive horror.</p> + +<p>“Well, what would you have?” Tresler raised his eyebrows and turned +his astonished eyes upon her. “Was I to stand lamb-like and accept a +thrashing from that unconscionable ruffian? No, no,” he shook his +head. “I see it in your eyes. You condemn the method, but not the man. +Remember, we all have a right to live—if we can. Maybe there’s no +absolute necessity that we should, but still we are permitted to do +our best. That’s the philosophy I’ve had hammered into me with the +various thrashings the school bullies at home have from time to time +administered. I should certainly have done my best.”</p> + +<p>“And if you had done either of these things, I shudder to think what +would have happened. It was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>unfortunate, terribly unfortunate. You do +not know Jake Harnach. Oh, Mr. Tresler,” the girl hurried on, leaning +suddenly forward in her chair, and reaching out until her small brown +hand rested on his arm, “please, please promise me that you won’t run +foul of Jake. He is terrible. You don’t, you can’t know him, or you +would understand your danger.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, Miss Marbolt. It is because I know a great deal of +him that I should be ready to retaliate very forcibly. I thank my +stars I do know him. Had I not known of him before, your own words +would have warned me to be ready for all emergencies. Jake must go his +way and I’ll go mine. I am here to learn ranching, not to submit to +any bulldozing. But let us forget Jake for the moment, and talk of +something more pleasant. What a charming situation the ranch has!”</p> + +<p>The girl dropped back in her chair. There was no mistaking the +decision of her visitor’s words. She felt that no persuasion of hers +could alter him. With an effort she contrived to answer him.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is a beautiful spot. You have not yet had time to appreciate +the perfections of our surroundings.” She paused for him to speak, but +as he remained silent she labored on with her thoughts set on other +things. “The foot-hills come right down almost to our very doors. And +then in the distance, above them, are the white caps of the mountains. +We are sheltered, as no doubt you have seen, by the almost +inaccessible wall beyond the river, and the pinewoods screen us from +the northeast and north winds of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>winter. South and east are miles and +miles of prairie-lands. Father has been here for eighteen years. I was +a child of four when we came. Whitewater was a mere settlement then, +and Forks wasn’t even in existence. We hadn’t a neighbor nearer than +Whitewater in those days, except the Indians and half-breeds. They +were rough times, and father held his place only by the subtlety of +his poor blind brain, and the arms of the men he had with him. Jake +has been with us as long as I can remember. So you see,” she added, +returning to her womanly dread for his safety, “I know Jake. My +warning is not the idle fear of a silly girl.”</p> + +<p>Tresler remained silent for a moment or two. Then he asked sharply—</p> + +<p>“Why does your father keep him?”</p> + +<p>The girl shrugged her shoulders. “Jake is the finest ranchman in the +country.”</p> + +<p>And in the silence that followed Tresler helped himself to more +coffee, and finished off with cheese and crackers. Neither seemed +inclined to break up the awkwardness of the pause. For the time the +man’s thoughts were wandering in interested speculation as to the +possibilities of his future on the ranch. He was not thinking so much +of Jake, nor even of Julian Marbolt. It was of the gentler +associations with the girl beside him—associations he had never +anticipated in his wildest thoughts. She was no prairie-bred girl. Her +speech, her manner, savored too much of civilization. Yes, he decided +in his mind, although she claimed Mosquito Bend as her home since she +was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>four, she had been educated elsewhere. His thoughts were suddenly +cut short. A faint sound caught his quick ears. Then Diane’s voice, +questioning him, recalled his wandering attention.</p> + +<p>“I understand you intend to stay with us for three years?”</p> + +<p>“Just as long as it will take to learn all the business of a ranch,” +he answered readily. “I am going to become one of the——”</p> + +<p>Again he heard the peculiar noise, and he broke off listening. Diane +was listening too. It was a soft tap, tap, like some one knocking +gently upon a curtained door. It was irregular, intermittent, like the +tapping of a telegraph-sounder working very slowly.</p> + +<p>“What’s that?” he asked.</p> + +<p>The girl had risen, and a puzzled look was in her eyes. “The noise? +Oh, it’s father,” she said, with a shadowy smile, and in a lowered +tone. “Something must have disturbed him. It is unusual for him to be +awake so early.”</p> + +<p>Now they heard a door open, and the tapping ceased. Then the door +closed and the lock turned. A moment later there came the jingle of +keys, and then shuffling footsteps accompanied the renewed tapping.</p> + +<p>Tresler was still listening. He had turned toward the door, and while +his attention was fixed on the coming of the blind rancher, he was yet +aware that Diane was clearing the table with what seemed to him +unnecessary haste and noise. However, his momentary interest was +centred upon the doorway and the passage outside, and he paid little +heed to the girl’s movements. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>The door stood open, and as he looked +out the sound of shuffling feet drew nearer; then a figure passed the +opening.</p> + +<p>It was gone in a moment. But in that moment he caught sight of a tall +man wrapped in the gray folds of a dressing-gown that reached to his +feet. That, and the sharp outline of a massive head of close-cropped +gray hair. The face was lost, all except the profile. He saw a long, +high-bridged nose and a short, crisp grayish beard. The tapping of the +stick died slowly away. And he knew that the blind man had passed out +on to the verandah.</p> + +<p>Now he turned again to the girl, and would have spoken, but she raised +a warning finger and shook her head. Then, moving toward the door, she +beckoned to him to follow.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>“Father, this is Mr. Tresler.”</p> + +<p>Tresler found himself looking down upon a remarkable face. He +acknowledged Diane’s introduction, forgetful, for the moment, of the +man’s sightless eyes. He gripped the outstretched hand heartily, while +he took in his first impression of a strange personality.</p> + +<p>They were out on the verandah. The rancher was sitting in a prim, +uncushioned armchair. He had a strong, well-moulded, pale face, the +sightless eyes of which held the attention. Tresler at once +appreciated Shaky’s description of them.</p> + +<p>They were dreadful eyes. The pupils were there, and, in a measure, +appeared natural except for their enormous size. They were black, jet +black, and divided <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>from what should have been the whites by minute +rings of blue, the only suspicion of iris they possessed. But it was +the whites that gave them their dreadful expression. They were scarlet +with inflammation—an inflammation which extended to the rims of the +lids and had eaten away the lashes. Of the rest of the face it was +impossible for him to form much of an opinion. The iron-gray brows +were depressed as though with physical pain, and so obliterated all +natural expression. And the beard shut out the indications which the +mouth and chin might have afforded.</p> + +<p>“You’re welcome, Mr. Tresler,” he said, in a low, gentle tone. “I knew +you were here some time ago.”</p> + +<p>Tresler was astonished at the quiet refinement of his voice. He had +grown so accustomed to the high, raucous twang of the men of these +wilds that it came as a surprise to him.</p> + +<p>“I hope I didn’t disturb you,” he answered cheerily. “Miss Marbolt +told me you were sleeping, and——”</p> + +<p>“You didn’t disturb me—at least, not in the way you mean. You see, +I have developed a strange sensitiveness—a sort of second sight,” +he laughed a little bitterly. “I awoke by instinct the moment you +approached the house, and heard you come in. The loss of one sense, +you see, has made others more acute. Well, well, so you have +come to learn ranching? Diane”—the blind man turned to his +daughter—“describe Mr. Tresler to me. What does he look like? Forgive +me, my dear sir,” he went on, turning with unerring instinct to the +other. “I glean a perfect knowledge of those about me in this way.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p><p>“Certainly.” The object of the blind man’s interest smiled over at the +girl.</p> + +<p>Diane hesitated in some confusion.</p> + +<p>“Go on, child,” her father said, with a touch of impatience in his +manner.</p> + +<p>Thus urged she began. “Mr. Tresler is tall. Six feet. +Broad-shouldered.”</p> + +<p>The man’s red, staring eyes were bent on his pupil with a steady +persistency.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” he urged, as the girl paused.</p> + +<p>“Dressed in—er fashionable riding costume.”</p> + +<p>“His face?”</p> + +<p>“Black hair, steel-blue eyes, black eyelashes and brows. Broad +forehead——”</p> + +<p>“Any lines?” questioned the blind man.</p> + +<p>“Only two strong marks between the brows.”</p> + +<p>“Go on.”</p> + +<p>“Broad-bridged, rather large nose; well-shaped mouth, with inclination +to droop at the corners; broad, split chin; well-rounded cheeks and +jaw.”</p> + +<p>“Ha! clean-shaven, of course—yes.”</p> + +<p>The rancher sat silent for some moments after Diane had finished her +description. His lips moved, as though he were talking to himself; but +no words came to those waiting. At last he stirred, and roused from +his reverie.</p> + +<p>“You come from Springfield, Mr. Tresler, I understand?” he said +pleasantly.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Um. New England. A good country that breeds good men,” he nodded, +with an expression that was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>almost a smile. “I’m glad to be able to +welcome you; I only wish I could see. However,” he went on kindly, +“you will be able to learn ranching in all its branches here. We breed +horses and cattle. You’ll find it rough. My foreman is not exactly +gentle, but, believe me, he knows his business. He is the finest +ranchman in the country, and I owe much of my success to him. You must +get on the right side of Jake, though. It requires finding—the right +side, I mean—but it is worth seeking.”</p> + +<p>Tresler smiled as he listened. He thoroughly agreed with the reference +to the difficulty of finding Jake’s “right” side. He endeavored to +catch Diane’s eye, but she avoided his gaze. As the rancher paused, he +broke in at once.</p> + +<p>“I presume I start work in earnest to-morrow morning?”</p> + +<p>The blind man shook his head. “No; better start in to-day. Our +agreement reads to-day; it must not be broken. You take your position +as one of the hands, and will be under the control of Jake Harnach.”</p> + +<p>“We can have tea first, though,” put in Diane, who had followed her +father’s words with what seemed unnecessary closeness.</p> + +<p>“Tut, tut, child,” he replied impatiently. “Yes, we will have tea. +’Tis all you think of. See to it, and bring Tresler a chair; I must +talk to him.”</p> + +<p>His words were a dismissal; and after Diane had provided a chair, she +retired into the house, leaving apprentice and master alone. And the +two men talked, as men will talk who have just come together from the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>ends of the world. Tresler avoided the details of his journey; nor +did the blind man seem in any way interested in his personal affairs. +It was the news of men, and matters concerning the world, that they +discussed. And the rancher’s information and remarks, and keen, +incisive questions, set the newcomer wondering. He watched the face +before him, the red, sightless eyes. He studied the quiet, +gentle-voiced man, as one may study an abstruse problem. The result +was disheartening. One long, weary expression of pain was all he +beheld; no lights and shades of emotion and interest. It was the face +of one grown patient under a lifelong course of suffering. Tresler had +listened to the bitter cursings against this man, but as the soft +voice and cultured expressions fell upon his ears, the easy-flowing, +pointed criticisms on matters of public interest, the broad +philosophy, sometimes faintly dashed with bitterness and cynicism, but +always sound, he found it hard to associate him with the significant +sobriquet of the ranch. Tea-time found him still wrestling with the +unsolved problem. But, with the advent of Diane with the table and +laden tray, he set it aside for future study.</p> + +<p>For the next half-hour he transferred his attention to the relations +between father and daughter, as they chatted pleasantly of the +ranching prospects of the country, for the benefit of their visitor. +This was a lesser problem, and one he came near to achieving. Before +he left them, he resolved that Diane stood in great awe, not to say +fear, of her father. This to him was astonishing, judging by the +strength of character <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>every feature in her face displayed. It seemed +to him that she was striving hard to bestow affection on him—trying +to create an affection that had no place in her heart. Her efforts +were painfully apparent. She convinced him at once of a lively sense +of duty—a sense she was carrying to a point that was almost pitiful. +All this he felt sure of, but it was the man who finally baffled him +as he had baffled him before. How he regarded Diane it was impossible +to say. Sometimes he could have sworn that the man’s devotion to her +was that of one who, helpless, clings to a support which never fails +him; at others, he treated her to a sneering intolerance, which roused +the young man’s ire; and, again, he would change his tone, till the +undercurrent of absolute hatred drowned the studied courtesy which +veneered it. And when he finally rose to leave the verandah and seek +out the foreman and report himself for duty, it was with a genuine +feeling of relief at leaving the presence of those dreadful red eyes.</p> + +<p>Diane was packing up the tea-things, and Tresler still lingered on the +verandah; he was watching the blind man as he tapped his way into the +house. Then, as he disappeared, and the sound of his shuffling feet +grew faint and distant, he became aware that Diane was standing +holding the tray and watching him. He knew, too, by her attentive +attitude, that she was listening to ascertain when her father should +be out of ear-shot. As the sounds died away, and all became silent +within the house, she came over to him. She spoke without pausing on +her way; it seemed that she feared observation.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p><p>“Don’t forget, Mr. Tresler, what I told you about Jake. Be warned. In +spite of what you say, you do not know him.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks, Miss Marbolt,” he replied warmly; “I shall not forget.”</p> + +<p>Diane was about to speak again, but the voice of her father, harsh and +strident enough now, reached them from the hallway.</p> + +<p>“Come in, child, and let Tresler go to his work.”</p> + +<p>And Tresler noted the expression of fear that leapt into the girl’s +face as she hurriedly passed into the house. He stood for a moment +wrathful and wondering; then he strode away toward the corrals, +reflecting on the strange events which had so swiftly followed one +upon the other.</p> + +<p>“Ye gods,” he muttered, “this is a queer place—and these are queer +people.”</p> + +<p>Then as he saw the great figure of Jake coming up the hill toward him, +from the direction of a small isolated hut, he went out to meet him, +unconsciously squaring himself as he drew near.</p> + +<p>He expected an explosion; at least an angry demonstration. But nothing +of the sort happened. The whole attitude of the man had changed to one +of studied amiability. Not only that, but his diction was careful to a +degree, as though he were endeavoring to impress this man from the +East with his superiority over the other ranchmen.</p> + +<p>“Well? You have seen him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I have now come to report myself ready for work,” Tresler +replied at once. He adopted a cold <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>business tone, deeming it best to +observe this from the start.</p> + +<p>To his surprise Jake became almost cordial. “Good. We can do with some +hands, sure. Had a pleasant talk with the old man?” The question came +indifferently, but a sidelong glance accompanied it as the foreman +turned away and gazed out over the distant prairie.</p> + +<p>“I have,” replied Tresler, shortly. “What are my orders, and where do +I sleep?”</p> + +<p>“Then you don’t sleep up at the house?” Jake inquired, pretending +surprise. There was a slight acidity in his tone.</p> + +<p>“That is hardly to be expected when the foreman sleeps down there.” +Tresler nodded, indicating the outbuildings.</p> + +<p>“That’s so,” observed the other, thoughtfully. “No, I guess the old +man don’t fancy folk o’ your kidney around,” he went on, relapsing +into the speech of the bunkhouse unguardedly. “Mebbe it’s different +wi’ the other.”</p> + +<p>Tresler could have struck him as he beheld the meaning smile that +accompanied the fellow’s words.</p> + +<p>“Where do I sleep?” he demanded sharply.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I guess you’ll roll into the bunkhouse. Likely the boys’ll fix +you for blankets till your truck comes along. As for orders, why, we +start work at sunup, and Slushy dips out breakfast before that. Guess +I’ll put you to work in the morning; you can’t do a deal yet, but +maybe you’ll learn.”</p> + +<p>“Then I’m not wanted to-night?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p><p>“Guess not.” Jake broke off. Then he turned sharply and faced his man. +“I’ve just one word to say to you ’fore you start in,” he went on. “We +kind o’ make allowance fer ‘tenderfeet’ around here—once. After that, +we deal accordin’—savee? Say, ther’ ain’t no tea-parties customary +around this layout.”</p> + +<p>Tresler smiled. If he had been killed for it he must have smiled. In +that last remark the worthy Jake had shown his hand. And the latter +saw the smile, and his face darkened with swift-rising anger. But he +had evidently made up his mind not to be drawn, for, with a curt +“S’long,” he abruptly strode off, leaving the other to make his way to +the bunkhouse.</p> + +<p>The men had not yet come in for their evening meal, but he found +Arizona disconsolately sitting on a roll of blankets just outside the +door of the quarters. He was chewing steadily, with his face turned +prairieward, gazing out over the tawny plains as though nothing else +in the world mattered to him.</p> + +<p>He looked up casually as Tresler came along, and edged along the +blankets to make room, contenting himself with a laconic—</p> + +<p>“Set.”</p> + +<p>The two men sat in silence for some moments. The pale-faced cowpuncher +seemed absorbed in deep reflection. Tresler was thinking too; he was +thinking of Jake, whom he clearly understood was in love with his +employer’s daughter. It was patent to the veriest simpleton. Not only +that, but he felt that Diane herself knew it. The way the foreman had +desisted from his murderous onslaught upon himself at her coming was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>sufficient evidence without the jealousy he had betrayed in his +reference to tea-parties. Now he understood, too, that it was because +the blind man was asleep, and in going up to the house he, Tresler, +would only meet Diane, and probably spend a pleasant afternoon with +her until her father awoke, that Jake’s unreasoning jealousy had been +aroused, and he had endeavored to forcibly detain him. He felt glad +that he had learned these things so soon. All such details would be +useful.</p> + +<p>At last Arizona turned from his impassive contemplation of the +prairie.</p> + +<p>“Wal?” he questioned. And he conveyed a world of interrogation in his +monosyllable.</p> + +<p>“Jake says I begin work to-morrow. To-night I sleep in the bunkhouse.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know.”</p> + +<p>“You know?” Tresler looked around in astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Guess Jake’s bin ’long. Say, I’ll shoot that feller, sure—’less some +interferin’ cuss gits along an’ does him in fust.”</p> + +<p>“What’s up? Anything fresh?”</p> + +<p>For answer Arizona spat forcibly into the little pool of tobacco-juice +on the ground before him. Then, with a vicious clenching of the +teeth—</p> + +<p>“He’s a swine.”</p> + +<p>“Which is a libel on hogs,” observed the other, with a smile.</p> + +<p>“Libel?” cried Arizona, his wild eyes rolling, and his lean nostrils +dilating as his breath came short and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>quick. “Yes, grin; grin like a +blazin’ six-foot ape. Mebbe y’ll change that grin later, when I tell +you what he’s done.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing he could do would surprise me after having met him.”</p> + +<p>“No.” Arizona had calmed again. His volcanic nature was a study. +Tresler, although he had only just met this man, liked him for his +very wildness. “Say, pardner,” he went on quietly, reaching one long, +lean hand toward him, “shake! I guess I owe you gratitood fer bluffin’ +that hog. We see it all. Say, you’ve got grit.” And the fierce eyes +looked into the other’s face.</p> + +<p>Tresler shook the proffered hand heartily. “But what’s his latest +achievement?” he asked, eager to learn the fresh development.</p> + +<p>“He come along here ’bout you. Sed we wus to fix you up in pore Dave +Steele’s bunk.”</p> + +<p>“Yes? That’s good. I rather expected he’d have me sleep on the floor.”</p> + +<p>Arizona gave a snort. His anger was rising again, but he checked it.</p> + +<p>“Say,” he went on, “guess you don’t know a heap. Ther’ ain’t bin a +feller slep in that bunk since Dave—went away.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” Tresler’s interest was agog.</p> + +<p>“Why?” Arizona’s voice rose. “’Cos it’s mussed all up wi’ a crazy +man’s blood. A crazy man as wus killed right here, kind of, by Jake +Harnach.”</p> + +<p>“I heard something of it.”</p> + +<p>“Heerd suthin’ of it? Wal, I guess ther’ ain’t a feller<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> around this +prairie as ain’t yelled hisself hoarse ’bout Dave. Say, he wus the +harmlessest lad as ever jerked a rope or slung a leg over a stock +saddle. An’ as slick a hand as ther’ ever wus around this ranch. I +tell ye he could teach every one of us, he wus that handy; an’ that’s +a long trail, I ’lows. Wal, we wus runnin’ in a bunch of outlaws fer +brandin’, an’ he wus makin’ to rope an old bull. Howsum he got him +kind o’ awkward. The rope took the feller’s horns. ’Fore Dave could +loose it that bull got mad, an’ went squar’ for the corral walls an’ +broke a couple o’ the bars. Dave jumped fer it an’ got clear. Then +Jake comes hollerin’ an’ swearin’ like a stuck hog, an’ Dave he took +it bad. Y’ see no one could handle an outlaw like Dave. He up an’ let +fly at Jake, an’ cussed back. Wot does Jake do but grab up a brandin’ +iron an’ lay it over the boy’s head. Dave jest dropped plumb in his +tracks. Then we got around and hunched him up, an’ laid him out in his +bunk, bleedin’ awful. We plastered him, an’ doctored him, an’ after a +whiles he come to. He lay on his back fer a month, an’ never a sign o’ +Jake or the blind man come along, only Miss Dianny. She come, an’ we +did our best. But arter a month he got up plump crazed an’ silly-like. +He died back ther’ in Forks soon after.” Arizona paused significantly. +Then he went on. “No, sir, ther’ ain’t bin a feller put in that bunk +sense, fer they ain’t never gotten pore Dave’s blood off’n it. Say, +ther’ ain’t a deal as ’ud scare us fellers, but we ain’t sleepin’ over +a crazy man’s blood.”</p> + +<p>“Which, apparently, I’ve got to do,” Tresler said <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>sharply. Then he +asked, “Is it the only spare bunk?”</p> + +<p>“No. Ther’s Thompson’s, an’ ther’s Massy’s.”</p> + +<p>“Then what’s the object?”</p> + +<p>“Cussedness. It’s a kind o’ delicate attention. It’s fer to git back +on you, knowin’ as us fellers ’ud sure tell you of Dave. It’s to kind +o’ hint to you what happens to them as runs foul o’ him. What’s like +to happen to you.”</p> + +<p>Arizona’s fists clenched, and his teeth gritted with rage as he +deduced his facts. Tresler remained calm, but it did him good to +listen to the hot-headed cowpuncher, and he warmed toward him.</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid I must disappoint him,” he said, when the other had +finished. “If you fellows will lend me some blankets, I’ll sleep in +Massy’s or Thompson’s bunk, and Mr. Jake can go hang.”</p> + +<p>Arizona shot round and peered into Tresler’s face. “An’ you’ll do +that—sure?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. I’m not going to sleep in a filthy bunk.”</p> + +<p>“Say, you’re the most cur’usest ‘tenderfoot’ I’ve seen. Shake!”</p> + +<p>And again the two men gripped hands.</p> + +<p>That first evening around the bunkhouse Tresler learned a lot about +his new home, and, incidentally, the most artistic manner of cursing +the flies. He had supper with the boys, and his food was hash and tea +and dry bread. It was hard but wholesome, and there was plenty of it. +His new comrades exercised their yarning propensities for him, around +him, at him. He <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>listened to their chaff, boisterous, uncultured; +their savage throes of passion and easy comradeships. They seemed to +have never a care in the world but the annoyances of the moment. Even +their hatred for the foreman and their employer seemed to lift from +them, and vanish with the sound of the curses which they heaped upon +them. It was a new life, a new world to him; and a life that appealed +to him.</p> + +<p>As the sun sank and the twilight waned, the men gradually slipped away +to turn in. Arizona was the last to go. Tresler had been shown Massy’s +bunk, and friendly hands had spread blankets upon it for him. He was +standing at the foot of it in the long aisle between the double row of +trestle beds. Arizona had just pointed out the dead man’s disused +couch, all covered with gunny sacks.</p> + +<p>“That’s Dave’s,” he said. “I kind o’ think you’ll sleep easier right +here. Say, Tresler,” he went on, with a serious light in his eyes, +“I’d jest like to say one thing to you, bein’ an old hand round these +parts myself, an’ that’s this. When you git kind o’ worried, use your +gun. Et’s easy an’ quick. Guess you’ve plenty o’ time an’ to spare +after fer sizin’ things up. Ther’ ain’t a man big ’nough in this world +to lift a finger ef you sez ‘no’ and has got your gun pointin’ right. +S’long.”</p> + +<p>But Tresler detained him. “Just one moment, Arizona,” he said, +imitating the other’s impressive manner. “I’d just like to say one +thing to you, being a new hand around these parts myself, and that’s +this. You being about my size, I wonder if you could sell <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>me a pair +of pants, such as you fellows ordinarily wear?”</p> + +<p>The cowpuncher smiled a pallid, shadowy smile, and went over to his +kit-bag. He returned a moment later with a pair of new moleskin +trousers and threw them on the bunk.</p> + +<p>“You ken have them, I guess. Kind o’ remembrancer fer talkin’ straight +to Jake. Say, that did me a power o’ good.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks, but I’ll pay——”</p> + +<p>“Not on your life, mister.”</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll remember your advice.”</p> + +<p>“Good. S’long.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>THE NIGHT-RIDERS</h3> + +<p>Tresler had not the smallest inclination for sleep. He was tired +enough physically, but his brain was still much too active. Besides, +the bunkhouse was uninviting to him as yet. The two lines of +trestle-beds, with their unkempt occupants, were suggestive of—well, +anything but congenial sleeping companions. The atmosphere was close +and stuffy, and the yellow glimmer of the two oil-lamps, one stationed +at each end of the room, gave the place a distasteful suggestion of +squalor.</p> + +<p>He was not unduly squeamish—far from it; but, be it remembered, he +had only just left a world of ease and luxury, where snow-white linen +and tasteful surroundings were necessary adjuncts to existence. +Therefore these things came to him in the nature of a shock.</p> + +<p>He looked at his blankets spread over the straw palliasse that +disguised the loose bed-boards underneath, and this drew his attention +to the mattress itself. It was well-worn and dusty, and as he moved it +he felt that the straw inside was crushed to the smallest chaff. He +laid it back carefully so as not to disturb the dust, and rearranged +the blankets over it. Then he sat on the foot of it and pondered.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p><p>He gazed about him at the other beds. Some of the men were already +sleeping, announcing the fact more or less loudly. Others were swathed +in their blankets smoking in solemn silence. One was deep in the +blood-curdling pages of a dime novel, straining his eyes in the fitful +light of the lamps. The scene had novelty for him, but it was not +altogether enthralling, so he filled his pipe and lit it, and passed +out into the fresh night air. It was only ten o’clock, and he felt +that a smoke and a comfortable think would be pleasant before facing +the charms of his dusty couch.</p> + +<p>The moon had not yet risen, but the starry sheen of the sky dimly +outlined everything. He was gazing upon the peaceful scene of a ranch +when night has spread her soft, velvety wings. There were few sounds +to distract his thoughts. The air still hummed with the busy insect +life; one of the prowling ranch dogs occasionally gave tongue, its +fiercely suspicious temper no doubt aroused by some vague shadow which +surely no other eyes than his could possibly have detected in the +darkness; sometimes the distressful plaint of a hungry coyote, hunting +for what it never seems to find—for he is always prowling and +hunting—would rouse the echoes and startle the “tenderfoot” with the +suddenness and nearness of its uncanny call. But for the rest all was +still. And he paced to and fro before the bunkhouse, thinking.</p> + +<p>And, strangely enough, of all the scenes he had witnessed that day, +and of all the people he had met, it was the scene in which Diane +Marbolt had taken part, and of her he mostly thought. Perhaps it was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>the unexpectedness of meeting a girl so charming that held him +interested. Perhaps it was the eager desire she had displayed in +warning him of his personal danger. Perhaps, even, it was the +recollection of the soft, brown eyes, the charming little sun-tanned +face that had first looked up at him from beneath the broad-brimmed +straw hat. Certain it was her sad face haunted him as no woman’s face +had ever haunted him before as he looked out on the vast, dark world +about him. He felt that he would like to know something of her story; +not out of idle curiosity, but that he might discover some means of +banishing the look of sadness so out of place upon her beautiful +features.</p> + +<p>His pipe burned out, and he recharged and lit it afresh; then he +extended his peregrinations. He moved out of the deeper shadows of the +bunkhouse and turned the corner in the direction of the western group +of corrals.</p> + +<p>Now he saw the foreman’s hut beyond the dark outline of the great +implement shed, and a light was still shining in the window. Turning +away he passed to the left of the shed, and strolled leisurely on to +the corrals. He had no desire in the world to meet Jake Harnach; not +that he thought such a contingency likely, but still there was always +the chance if the man had not yet gone to bed. He had already decided +that the less he saw of Jake the better it would be for both of them. +He remained for some minutes seated on the top of the corral fence, +but the mosquitoes were too thick, and drove him to further +wanderings.</p> + +<p>Just as he was about to move away, he saw the door <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>of the foreman’s +hut open, and in the light that shone behind, the small figure of the +choreman, Joe Nelson, come out. Then the light was shut out as the +great figure of Jake blocked the doorway. Now he distinctly heard them +speaking.</p> + +<p>“I shall want it first thing in the morning,” said the foreman, in his +great hoarse voice.</p> + +<p>“Guess I’ll see to it,” replied Joe; “but ’tain’t the saddle fer +anybody who ain’t used to it.”</p> + +<p>“That’s o’ no consequence. Your business is to have it there.”</p> + +<p>Then Jake retired, and the door was shut. A moment later the waiting +man saw Joe emerge from the shadow and stump off in the direction of +the bunkhouse. A few yards from the foreman’s hut he halted and turned +about. Then Tresler witnessed something that made him smile, while it +raised a lively feeling of satisfaction in his heart. Joe slowly +raised one arm in the direction of the hut, and, although the light +was insufficient for him to see it, and he could hear no words, he +felt sure that the fist was clenched, and a string of blasphemous +invective was desecrating the purity of the night air. A moment later +Joe passed leisurely on his way, and the light went out in Jake’s +dwelling.</p> + +<p>And now, without concerning himself with his direction, Tresler +continued his walk. He moved toward an open shed crowded with wagons. +This he skirted, intending to avoid the foreman’s hut, but just as he +moved out from the shadow, he became aware that Jake’s door had opened +again and some one was coming out. He waited for a moment listening. +He <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>fancied he recognized the foreman’s heavy tread. Curiosity +prompted him to inquire further, but he checked the impulse. After +all, the bully’s doings were no concern of his. So he waited until the +sound of receding footsteps had died out, and then passed round the +back of the shed and strolled on.</p> + +<p>There was nothing now in front of him but the dense black line of the +boundary pinewoods. These stretched away to the right and left as far +as the darkness permitted him to see. The blackness of their depths +was like a solid barrier, and he had neither time nor inclination to +explore them at that hour. Therefore he skirted away to the right, +intending to leave the forest edge before he came to the rancher’s +house, and so make his way back to his quarters.</p> + +<p>He was approaching the house, and it loomed dark and rigid before him. +Gazing upon it, his mind at once reverted to its blind owner, and he +found himself wondering if he were in bed yet, if Diane had retired, +and in which portion of the house she slept.</p> + +<p>His pipe had gone out again, and he paused to relight it. He had his +matches in his hand, and was about to strike one, when suddenly a +light flashed out in front of him. It came and was gone in a second. +Yet it lasted long enough for him to realize that it came from a +window, and the window, he knew, from its position, must be the window +of Julian Marbolt’s bedroom.</p> + +<p>He waited for it to reappear, but the house remained in darkness; and, +after a moment’s deliberation, he realized its meaning. The door of +the blind man’s room <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>must be opposite the window, and probably it was +the opening of it that had revealed the lamplight in the hall. The +thought suggested the fact that the rancher had just gone to bed.</p> + +<p>He turned his attention again to his pipe; but he seemed destined not +to finish his smoke. Just as he had the match poised for a second +time, his ears, now painfully acute in the stillness about him, caught +the sound of horses’ hoofs moving through the forest.</p> + +<p>They sounded quite near; he even heard the gush of the animals’ +nostrils. He peered into the depths. Then, suddenly realizing the +strangeness of his own position lurking so near the house and under +cover of the forest at that hour of the night, he dropped down in the +shadow of a low bush. Nor was it any too soon, for, a moment or two +later, he beheld two horsemen moving slowly toward him out of the +black depths. They came on until they were within half a dozen yards +of him, and almost at the edge of the woods. Then they drew up and sat +gazing out over the ranch in silent contemplation.</p> + +<p>Tresler strained his eyes to obtain a knowledge of their appearance, +but the darkness thwarted him. He could see the vague outline of the +man nearest him, but it was so uncertain that he could make little of +it. One thing only he ascertained, and that was because the figure was +silhouetted against the starlit sky. The man seemed to have his face +covered with something that completely concealed his profile.</p> + +<p>The whole scene passed almost before he realized it. The horsemen had +appeared so suddenly, and were <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>gone so swiftly, returning through the +forest the way they had come, that he was not sure but that the whole +apparition had been a mere trick of imagination. Rising swiftly, he +gazed after the vanished riders, and the crunching of the pine cones +under the horses’ hoofs, dying slowly away as they retreated, warned +him that the stealthy, nocturnal visit was no illusion, but a curious +fact that needed explanation.</p> + +<p>Just for an instant it occurred to him that it might be two of the +hands out on night work around the cattle, then he remembered that the +full complement were even now slumbering in the bunkhouse. Puzzled and +somewhat disquieted, he turned his steps in the direction of his +quarters, fully intending to go to bed; but his adventures were not +over yet.</p> + +<p>As he drew near his destination he observed the figure of a man, +bearing something on his back, coming slowly toward him. A moment +later he was looking down upon the diminutive person of Joe Nelson in +the act of carrying a saddle upon his shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Nelson, where are you going at this hour of the night?” he +asked, as he came face to face with the little man.</p> + +<p>The choreman deposited the saddle on the ground, and looked his man up +and down before he answered.</p> + +<p>“Wher’ am I goin’?” he said, as though he were thinking of other +things. “I guess I’m doin’ a job in case I git fergittin’ by the +mornin’. Jake reckons to want my saddle in the mornin’ over at the +hoss corrals. But, say, why ain’t you abed, Mr. Tresler?”</p> + +<p>“Never mind the ‘mister,’ Joe,” Tresler said amiably.</p> + +<p><a name="illo1" id="illo1"></a></p><div class="figcenter" style="width: 328px;"> +<img src="images/i074.jpg" class="ispace" width="328" height="500" alt="A moment later he beheld two horsemen" title="" /> +<span class="caption">A moment later he beheld two horsemen</span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p><p>“If you’re going to the horse corrals now I’ll go with you. I’m so +beastly wide awake that I can’t turn in yet.”</p> + +<p>“Come right along, then. Guess I ain’t feelin’ that ways, sure.”</p> + +<p>Joe jerked his saddle up and slung it across his back again, and the +two men walked off in silence.</p> + +<p>And as they walked, Joe, under cover of the darkness, eyed his +companion with occasional sidelong glances, speculating as to what he +wanted with him. He quite understood that his companion was not +walking with him for the pleasure of his company. On his part Tresler +was wondering how much he ought to tell this man—almost a +stranger—of what he had seen. He felt that some one ought to +know—some one with more experience than himself. He felt certain that +the stealthy visit of the two horsemen was not wholesome. Such +espionage pointed to something that was not quite open and aboveboard.</p> + +<p>They reached the corrals, and Joe deposited his burden upon the wooden +wall. Then he turned sharply on his companion.</p> + +<p>“Wal, out wi’ it, man,” he demanded. “Guess you got something you’re +wantin’ to git off’n your chest.”</p> + +<p>Tresler laughed softly. “You’re pretty sharp, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“Pretty sharp, eh?” returned the little man. “Say, it don’t need no +razor to cut through the meanin’ of a ‘tenderfoot.’ Wal?”</p> + +<p>Tresler was looking up at the saddle. It was a small, almost skeleton +saddle, such as, at one time, was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>largely used in Texas; that was +before the heavier and more picturesque Mexican saddles came into +vogue among the ranchmen.</p> + +<p>“What does Jake want that for?” he asked.</p> + +<p>His question was an idle one, and merely put for the sake of gaining +time while he arrived at a definite decision upon the other matter.</p> + +<p>“Guess it’s fer some feller to ride to-morrow—eh? Whew!”</p> + +<p>The choreman broke off and whistled softly. Something had just +occurred to him. He measured Tresler with his eye, and then looked at +the short-seated saddle with its high cantle and tall, abrupt horn in +front. He shook his head.</p> + +<p>Tresler was not heeding him. Suddenly he stopped and sat on the +ground, propping his back against the corral wall, while he looked up +at Joe.</p> + +<p>“Sit down,” he said seriously; “I’ve got something rather particular I +want to talk about. At least, I think it’s particular, being a +stranger to the country.”</p> + +<p>Without replying, Joe deposited himself on the ground beside his new +acquaintance. His face was screwed up into the expression Tresler had +begun to recognize as a smile. He took a chew of tobacco and prepared +to give his best attention.</p> + +<p>“Git goin’,” he observed easily.</p> + +<p>“Well, look here, have we any near neighbors?”</p> + +<p>“None nigher than Forks—’cep’ the Breeds, an’ they’re nigh on six +mile south, out toward the hills. How?”</p> + +<p>Then Tresler told him what he had seen at the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>edge of the pinewoods, +and the choreman listened with careful attention. At the end of his +story Tresler added—</p> + +<p>“You see, it’s probably nothing. Of course, I know nothing as yet of +prairie ways and doings. No doubt it can be explained. But I argued +the matter out from my own point of view, and it struck me that two +horsemen, approaching the ranch under cover of the forest and a dark +night, and not venturing into the open after having arrived, simply +didn’t want to be seen. And their not wishing to be seen meant that +their object in coming wasn’t—well, just above suspicion.”</p> + +<p>“Tol’ble reasonin’,” nodded Joe, chewing his cud reflectively.</p> + +<p>“What do you make of it?”</p> + +<p>“A whole heap,” Joe said, spitting emphatically. “What do I make of +it? Yes, that’s it, a whole heap. Guess that feller you see most of +had his face covered. Was that cover a mask?”</p> + +<p>“It might have been.”</p> + +<p>“A red mask?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t see the color. It was too dark. Might have been.”</p> + +<p>Joe turned and faced his companion, and, hunching his bent knees into +his arms, looked squarely into his eyes.</p> + +<p>“See here, pard, guess you never heard o’ hoss thieves? They ain’t +likely to mean much to you,” he said, with some slight contempt. Then +he added, by way of rubbing it in, “You bein’ a ‘tenderfoot.’ Guess +you ain’t heard tell of Red Mask an’ his gang, neither?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p><p>“Wrong twice,” observed Tresler, with a quiet smile. “I’ve heard of +both horse thieves and Red Mask.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve heard tell of hoss thieves an’ Red Mask? Wal, I’m figgerin’ +you’ve seen both to-night, anyway; an’ I’ll further tell you this—if +you’d got the drop on him this night an’ brought him down, you’d ’a’ +done what most every feller fer two hundred miles around has been +layin’ to do fer years, an’ you’d ’a’ been the biggest pot in Montana +by sundown to-morrow.” He spoke with an accent of triumph, and paused +for effect. “Say, ther’ wouldn’t ’a’ been a feller around as wouldn’t +’a’ taken his hat off to you,” he went on, to accentuate the +situation. “Say, it was a dandy chance. But ther’, you’re a +‘tenderfoot,’” he added, with a sigh of profound regret.</p> + +<p>Tresler was inclined to laugh, but checked himself as he realized the +serious side of the matter.</p> + +<p>“Well, if he were here to-night, what does it portend?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“If he was here to-night it portends a deal,” said Joe, sharply. “It +portends that the biggest ‘tough,’ the biggest man-killer an’ hoss +thief in the country, is on the war-path, an’ ther’ll be trouble +around ’fore we’re weeks older.”</p> + +<p>“Who is he?”</p> + +<p>“Who is he? Wal, I ’lows that’s a big question. Guess ther’ ain’t no +real sayin’. Some sez he’s from across the border, some sez he’s a +Breed, some sez he’s the feller called Duncan, as used to run a bum +saloon in Whitewater, an’ shot a man in his own bar an’ <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>skipped. No +one rightly knows, ’cep’ he’s real ‘bad,’ an’ duffs nigh on to a +thousand head o’ stock most every year.”</p> + +<p>“Then what’s to be done?” Tresler asked, watching the little man’s +twisted face as he munched his tobacco.</p> + +<p>“What’s to be done? Wal, I don’t rightly know. Say, what wus you doin’ +around that house? I ain’t askin’ fer cur’osity. Ye see, if you got +tellin’ Jake as you wus round ther’, it’s likely he’d git real mad. Y’ +see, Jake’s dead sweet on Miss Dianny. It gives him the needle that +I’m around that house. O’ course, ther’ ain’t nuthin’ wi’ me an’ Miss +Dianny, ’cep’ we’re kind o’ friendly. But Jake’s that mean-sperrited +an’ jealous. She hates him like pizen. I know, ’cos I’m kind o’ +friendly wi’ her, so to speak, meanin’ nuthin’, o’ course. But that +ain’t the point. If you wus to tell him he’d make your head swim.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, hang Jake!” exclaimed Tresler, impatiently; “I’m sick to death of +hearing of his terrorizing. He can’t eat me——”</p> + +<p>“No, but he’ll make you wish he could,” put in the choreman, quietly.</p> + +<p>“He’d find me a tough mouthful,” Tresler laughed.</p> + +<p>“Mebbe. How came you around that house?”</p> + +<p>“I simply wandered there by chance. I was smoking and taking a stroll. +I’d been all round the ranch.”</p> + +<p>“That wouldn’t suit Jake. No.” Joe was silent for a moment.</p> + +<p>Tresler waited. At last the little man made a move and spat out his +chew.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p><p>“That’s it,” he said, slapping his thigh triumphantly—“that’s it, +sure. Say, we needn’t to tell Jake nuthin’. I’ll git around among the +boys, an’ let ’em know as I heerd tell of Red Mask bein’ in the region +o’ the Bend, an’ how a Breed give me warnin’, bein’ scared to come +along to the ranch lest Red Mask got wind of it an’ shut his head +lights fer him. Ther’ ain’t no use in rilin’ Jake. Meanin’ for you. +He’s layin’ fer you anyways, as I’m guessin’ you’ll likely know. +Savee? Lie low, most as low as a dead cat in a well. I’ll play this +hand, wi’out you figgerin’ in it; which, fer you, I guess is best.”</p> + +<p>Tresler got up and dusted his clothes. There was a slight pause while +he fingered the leather-capped stirrups of the stock saddle on the +wall.</p> + +<p>Joe grew impatient. “Wal?” he said at last; “y’ ain’t bustin’ wi’ +’preciation.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, I appreciate your shrewdness and kindly interest on +my behalf most cordially,” Tresler replied, dropping the stirrup and +turning to his companion; “but, you see, there’s one little weakness +in the arrangement. Jake’s liable to underestimate the importance of +the nocturnal visits unless he knows the real facts. Besides——”</p> + +<p>“Besides,” broke in Joe, with an impatience bred of his reading +through Tresler’s lame objection, “you jest notion to rile Jake some. +Wal, you’re a fool, Tresler—a dog-gone fool! Guess you’ll strike a +snag, an’ snags mostly hurts. Howsum, I ain’t no wet-nurse, an’ ef you +think to bluff Jake Harnach, get right ahead an’ bluff. An’ when you +bluff, bluff hard, an’ <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>back it, or you’ll drop your wad sudden. Guess +I’ll turn in.”</p> + +<p>Joe moved off and Tresler followed. At the door of the bunkhouse they +parted, for Joe slept in a lean-to against the kitchen of the +rancher’s house. They had said “good-night,” and Joe was moving away +when he suddenly changed his mind and came back again.</p> + +<p>“Say, ther’ ain’t nothin’ like a ‘tenderfoot’ fer bein’ a fool, ’less +it’s a settin’ hen,” he said, with profound contempt but with evident +good-will. “You’re kind o’ gritty, Tresler, I guess, but mebbe you’ll +be ast to git across a tol’ble broncho in the mornin’. That’s as may +be. But ef it’s so, jest take two thinks ’fore settin’ your six foot +o’ body on a saddle built fer a feller o’ five foot one. It ain’t +reason’ble, an’ it’s dangerous. It’s most like tryin’ to do that as +isn’t, never wus, and ain’t like to be, an’ if it did, wouldn’t amount +to a heap anyway, ’cep’ it’s a heap o’ foolishness.”</p> + +<p>Tresler laughed. “All right. Two into one won’t go without leaving a +lot over. Good-night, Joe.”</p> + +<p>“So long. Them fellers as gits figgerin’ mostly gits crazed fer doin’ +what’s impossible. Guess I ain’t stuck on figgers nohow.”</p> + +<p>And the man vanished into the night, while Tresler passed into the +bunkhouse to get what little sleep his first night as a ranchman might +afford him.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>TRESLER BEGINS HIS EDUCATION</h3> + +<p>But the story of the nocturnal visit of the horse thieves did not +reach the foreman next morning. Jake hailed Tresler down to the +corrals directly after breakfast. He was to have a horse told off to +him, and this matter, and the presence of others, made him postpone +his purpose to a more favorable time.</p> + +<p>When he arrived at the corrals, three of the boys, under Jake’s +superintendence, were cutting out a big, raw-boned, mud-brown mare +from a bunch of about sixty colts.</p> + +<p>She stood well over sixteen hands—a clumsy, big-footed, mean-looking, +clean-limbed lady, rough-coated, and scored all over with marks of +“savaging.” She was fiddle-headed and as lean as a hay-rake, but in +build she was every inch a grand piece of horse-flesh. And Tresler was +sufficient horseman to appreciate her lines, as well as the vicious, +roving eye which displayed the flashing whites at every turn.</p> + +<p>Jacob Smith was after her with a rope, and the onlookers watched his +lithe, active movements as he followed her, wildly racing round and +round the corral seeking a means of escape.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the man made a dart in to head her off. She turned to +retreat, but the other two were there to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>frustrate her purpose. Just +for a second she paused irresolutely; then, lowering her head and +setting her ears back, she came open-mouthed for Jacob. But he +anticipated her intention, and, as she came, sprang lightly aside, +while she swept on, lashing out her heels at him as she went. It was +the opportunity the man sought, and, in the cloud of dust that rose in +her wake, his lariat shot out low over the ground. The next moment she +fell headlong, roped by the two forefeet, and all three men sprang in +to the task of securing her.</p> + +<p>It was done so quickly that Tresler had hardly realized her capture +when Jake’s harsh voice rang out—</p> + +<p>“That’s your mare, Tresler!” he cried; “guess that plug of yours’ll do +for fancy ridin’. You’ll break this one to handlin’ cattle. You’re a +tolerable weight, but she’s equal to it.” He laughed, and his laugh +sent an angry flush into the other’s face. “Say,” he went on, in +calmly contemptuous tones; “she’s wild some. But she’s been saddled +before. Oh, yes, she ain’t raw off the grass. You, comin’ from down +east, can mebbe ride. They mostly reckon to be able to ride till they +come along to these parts.”</p> + +<p>Tresler understood the man’s game; he also understood and fully +appreciated Joe Nelson’s warning. He glanced at the saddle still +hanging on the corral wall. It would be simple suicide for him to +attempt to ride an outlaw with a saddle fit for a boy of fifteen. And +it was Jake’s purpose, trading on his ignorance of such matters, to +fool him into using a saddle that would probably rupture him.</p> + +<p>“I presume she’s the worst outlaw on the ranch,” he <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>replied quietly, +though his blue eyes shone dangerously. “She must be,” he went on, as +Jake made no answer, “or you wouldn’t give her to me, and point out +that she’s been saddled before.”</p> + +<p>“Kind o’ weakenin’?” Jake asked with a sneer.</p> + +<p>“No. I was just thinking of my saddle. It will be no use on her; she’d +burst the girths.”</p> + +<p>“That needn’t worry you any. There’s a stock saddle there, on the +fence.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, I’ll ride on a saddle that fits a man of my size, or you +can ride the mare yourself.”</p> + +<p>Tresler was round and facing his man, and his words came in a tone the +other was unaccustomed to. But Jake kept quite cool while he seemed to +be debating with himself. Then he abruptly turned away with a short, +vicious laugh.</p> + +<p>“Guess the ‘tenderfoot’s’ plumb scared to ride her, boys,” he called +out to the men, relapsing into the vernacular as he addressed them. +“Any o’ you boys lendin’ a saddle, or shall we find him a rockin’-hoss +to run around on?”</p> + +<p>Tresler fell headlong into the trap. Jake had drawn him with a skill +worthy of a better object.</p> + +<p>“If there is anybody scared, I don’t think it is I, boys,” he said +with a laugh as harsh as Jake’s had been. “If one of you will lend me +a man’s saddle, I’ll break that mare or she’ll break me.”</p> + +<p>Now, Tresler was a very ordinary horseman. He had never in his life +sat a horse that knew the first rudiments of bucking; but at that +moment he would have mounted to the back of any horse, even if his +life were <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>to pay the forfeit next moment. Besides, even in his blind +anger, he realized that this sort of experience must come sooner or +later. “Broncho-busting” would be part of his training. Therefore, +when some one suggested Arizona’s saddle—since Arizona was on the +sick list—he jumped at the chance, for that individual was about his +size.</p> + +<p>The mare was now on her legs again, and stood ready bridled, while two +men held her with the lariat drawn tight over her windpipe. She stood +as still as a rock, and to judge by the flashing of her eyes, inwardly +raging. They led her out of the corral, and Arizona’s saddle was +brought and the stirrups adjusted to Tresler’s requirements. She was +taken well clear of the buildings into the open, and Jacob, with the +subtlety and art acquired by long practice in breaking horses, +proceeded to saddle her. Lew and Raw Harris choked her quiet with the +lariat, and though she physically attempted to resent the indignity of +being saddled, the cinchas were drawn tight.</p> + +<p>Tresler had come over by himself, leaving Jake to watch the +proceedings from the vantage ground of the rise toward the house. He +was quite quiet, and the boys stole occasional apprehensive glances at +him. They knew this mare; they knew that she was a hopeless outlaw and +fit only for the knacker’s yard. At last Jacob beckoned him over.</p> + +<p>“Say, ther’ ain’t no need fer you to ride her, mister,” he said, +feeling that it was his duty as a man to warn him. “She’s the worstest +devil on the range, an’ she’ll break your neck an’ jump on you with +her maulin’ <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>great hoofs, sure. I guess ther’ ain’t a ‘buster’ in the +country ’ud tackle her fer less ’an a fi’ dollar wager, she’s that +mean.”</p> + +<p>“And she looks all you say of her, Jacob,” replied Tresler, with a +grim smile. “Thanks for your warning, but I’m going to try and ride +her,” he went on with quiet decision. “Not because I think I can, but +because that bully up there”—with a nod in Jake’s direction—“would +only be too glad of the chance of taunting me with ‘weakening.’ She +shall throw me till she makes it a physical impossibility for me to +mount her again. All I ask is that you fellows stand by to keep her +off when I’m on the ground.”</p> + +<p>By this time Jacob had secured the saddle, and now Tresler walked +round the great beast, patting her gently and speaking to her. And she +watched him with an evil, staring eye that boded nothing good. Then he +took a rawhide quirt from Jacob and, twisting it on his wrist, mounted +her, while the men kept the choking rope taut about her throat, and +she stood like a statue, except for the heaving of her sides as she +gasped for breath.</p> + +<p>He gathered the reins up, which had been passed through the noose of +the lariat, and sat ready. Jacob drew off, and held the end of the +rope. Tresler gave the word. The two men left her, while, with a shake +and a swift jerk, Jacob flung the lariat clear of the mare’s head. In +an instant the battle had begun.</p> + +<p>Down went the lady’s head (the boys called her by a less complimentary +name), and she shot into the air with her back humped till she shaped +like an inverted <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>U with its extremities narrowed and almost touching. +There was no seesaw bucking about her. It was stiff-legged, with her +four feet bunched together and her great fiddle-head lost in their +midst. And at the first jump Tresler shot a foot out of the saddle, +lurched forward and then back, and finally came down where he had +started from. And as he fell heavily into the saddle his hand struck +against a coiled blanket strap behind the cantle, and he instinctively +grabbed hold of it and clung to it for dear life.</p> + +<p>Up she shot again, and deliberately swung round in the air and came +down with her head where her tail had been. It was a marvelous, +cat-like spring, calculated to unseat the best of horsemen. Tresler +was half out of the saddle again, but the blanket strap saved him, and +the next buck threw him back into his seat. Now her jumps came like +the shots from a gatling gun, and the man on her back was dazed, and +his head swam, and he felt the blood rushing to his ear-drums. But +with desperate resolve he clung to his strap, and so retained his +seat. But it couldn’t last, and he knew it, although those looking on +began to have hopes that he would tire the vixen out. But they didn’t +know the demon that possessed her.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it seemed as though an accident had happened to her. Her legs +absolutely shot from under her as she landed from one terrific buck, +and she plunged to the ground. Then her intention became apparent. But +luckily the antic had defeated its own end, for Tresler was flung +wide, and, as she rolled on the ground, he scrambled clear of her +body.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p><p>He struggled to his feet, but not before she had realized his escape, +and, with the savage instinct of a man-eater, had sprung to her feet +and was making for him open-mouthed. It was Jacob’s readiness and +wonderful skill that saved him. The rope whistled through the air and +caught her, the noose falling over her head with scarcely room between +her nose and her victim’s back for the rawhide to pass. In a flash the +strands strung tight, and her head swung round with such a jolt that +she was almost thrown from her feet.</p> + +<p>Again she was choked down, and Tresler, breathing desperately, but +with his blood fairly up, was on top of her almost before the man +holding her realized his intention. The mare was foaming at the mouth, +and a lather of sweat dripped from her tuckered flanks. The whites of +her eyes were flaming scarlet now, and when she was let loose again +she tried to savage her rider’s legs. Failing this, she threw her head +up violently, and, all unprepared for it, Tresler received the blow +square in the mouth. Then she was up on her hind legs, fighting the +air with her front feet, and a moment later crashed over backward. And +again it seemed like a miracle that he escaped; he slid out of the +saddle, not of his own intention, and rolled clear as she came down.</p> + +<p>This time she was caught before she could struggle to her feet, and +when at last she stood up she was dazed and shaken, though still +unconquered.</p> + +<p>Again Tresler mounted. He was bruised and bleeding, and shaking as +with an ague. And now the mare tried a new move. She bucked; but it +was a running <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>buck, her body twisting and writhing with curious +serpentine undulations, and her body seemed to shrink under his legs +as though the brute were drawing in her whole frame of a settled +purpose. Then, having done enough in this direction, she suddenly +stood, and began to kick violently, with her head stretched low +between her forelegs. And Tresler felt himself sliding, saddle and +all, over her withers! Suddenly the blanket strap failed him. It +cracked and gave, and he shot from the saddle like a new-fired rocket.</p> + +<p>And when the mare had been caught again she was without the saddle, +which was now lying close to where her rider had fallen. She had +bucked and kicked herself clean through the still-fastened cinchas.</p> + +<p>Tresler was bleeding from nose and ears when he mounted again. The +saddle was cinched up very tight, and the mare herself was so blown +that she was unable to distend herself to resist the pressure. But, +nevertheless, she fought as though a devil possessed her, and, +exhausted, and without the help of the blanket strap, he was thrown +again and again. Five times he fell; and each time, as no bones were +broken, he remounted her. But he was growing helpless.</p> + +<p>But the men looking on realized that which was lost upon the rider +himself. The mare was done; she was fairly beaten. The fifth time he +climbed into the saddle her bucks wouldn’t have thrown a babe; and +when they beheld this, they, with one accord, shouted to him.</p> + +<p>“Say, thrash her, boy! Lace h—— out of her!” roared Jacob.</p> + +<p>“Cut her liver out wi’ that quirt!” cried Lew.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p><p>“Ay, run her till she can’t see,” added Raw.</p> + +<p>And Tresler obeyed mechanically. He was too exhausted to do much; but +he managed to bring the quirt down over her shoulders, until, maddened +with pain, she rose up on her hind legs, gave a mighty bound forward, +and raced away down the trail like a creature possessed.</p> + +<p>It was dinner-time when Tresler saw the ranch again. He returned with +the mare jaded and docile. He had recovered from the battle, while she +had scarcely energy enough to put one foot before the other. She was +conquered. To use Arizona’s expression, when, from the doorway of the +bunkhouse, he saw the mare crawling up the trail toward the ranch—</p> + +<p>“Guess she’s loaded down till her springs is nigh busted.”</p> + +<p>And Tresler laughed outright in Jake’s face when that individual came +into the barn, while he was rubbing her down, and generally returning +good for evil, and found fault with his work.</p> + +<p>“Where, I’d like to know, have you been all this time?” he asked +angrily. Then, as his eyes took in the pitiful sight of the exhausted +mare, “Say, you’ve ruined that mare, and you’ll have to make it good. +We don’t keep horses for the hands to founder. D’you see what you’ve +done? You’ve broke her heart.”</p> + +<p>“And if I’d had the chance I’d have broken her neck too,” Tresler +retorted, with so much heat, that, in self-defense, the foreman was +forced to leave him alone.</p> + +<p>That afternoon the real business of ranching began. Lew Cawley was +sent out with Tresler to instruct him <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>in mending barbed-wire fences. +A distant pasture had been broken into by the roving cattle outside. +Lew remained with him long enough to show him how to strain the wires +up and splice them, then he rode off to other work.</p> + +<p>Tresler was glad to find himself out on the prairie away from the +unbearable influence of the ranch foreman. The afternoon was hot, but +it was bright with the sunshine, which, in the shadow of the +mountains, is so bracing. The pastures he was working in were +different from the lank weedy-grown prairie, although of the same +origin. They were irrigated, and had been sown and re-sown with +timothy grass and clover. The grass rose high up to the horse’s knees +as he rode, and the quiet, hard-working animal, his own property, +reveled in the sweet-scented fodder which he could nip at as he moved +leisurely along.</p> + +<p>And Tresler worked very easily that afternoon. Not out of indolence, +not out of any ill-feeling toward his foreman. He was weary after his +morning’s exertions, and, besides, the joy of being out in the pure, +bright air, on that wondrous sea of rolling green grass with its +illimitable suggestion of freedom and its gracious odors, seduced him +to an indolence quite foreign to him. He was beyond the view of the +ranch, with two miles of prairie rollers intervening, so he did his +work without concern for time.</p> + +<p>It was well after four o’clock when the last strand of wire was strung +tight. Then, for want of a shady tree to lean his back against, he sat +down by a fence post and smoked, while his horse, with girths +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>loosened, and bit removed from its mouth, grazed joyfully near by.</p> + +<p>And then he slept. The peace of the prairie world got hold of him; the +profound silence lulled his fagged nerves, his pipe went out, and he +slept.</p> + +<p>He awoke with a start. Nor, for the moment, did he know where he was. +His pipe had fallen from his mouth, and he found himself stretched +full length upon the ground. But something unusual had awakened him, +and when he had gathered his scattered senses he looked about him to +ascertain what the nature of the disturbance had been. The next moment +a laughing voice hailed him.</p> + +<p>“Is this the way you learn ranching, Mr. Tresler? Oh, shame! Sleeping +the glorious hours of sunshine away.”</p> + +<p>It was the rich, gentle voice of Diane Marbolt, and its tone was one +of quiet raillery. She was gazing down at him from the back of her +sturdy broncho mare, Bessie, with eyes from which, for the moment at +least, all sadness had vanished.</p> + +<p>Just now her lips were wreathed in a bright smile, and her soft brown +eyes were dancing with a joyous light, which, when Tresler had first +seen her, had seemed impossible to them. She was out on the prairie, +on the back of her favorite, Bessie; she was away from the ranch, from +the home that possessed so many cares for her. She was out in her +world, the world she loved, the world that was the only world for her, +breathing the pure, delicious air which, even in moments of profound +unhappiness, had still power to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>carry her back to the days of happy, +careless childhood; had still power to banish all but pleasant +thoughts, and to bestow upon her that wild sense of freedom such as is +only given to those who have made their home on its virgin bosom.</p> + +<p>Tresler beheld this girl now in her native mood. He saw before him the +true child of the prairie such as she really was. She was clad in a +blue dungaree habit and straw sun-hat, and he marveled at the +ravishing picture she made. He raised himself upon his elbow and +stared at her, and a sensation of delight swept over him as he +devoured each detail of face and figure. Then, suddenly, he was +recalled to his senses by the abrupt fading of the smile from the face +before him; and he flushed with a rueful sense of guiltiness.</p> + +<p>“Fairly caught napping, Miss Marbolt,” he said, in confusion. “I +acknowledge the sloth, but not the implied laxness anent ranching. +Believe me, I have learned an ample lesson to-day. I now have a fuller +appreciation of our worthy foreman; a fair knowledge of the horse, +most accurately termed ‘outlaw’, as the bruised condition of my body +can testify; and, as for barbed-wire fencing, I really believe I have +discovered every point in its construction worthy of consideration.”</p> + +<p>He raised a pair of lacerated hands for the girl’s inspection, and +rose, smiling, to his feet.</p> + +<p>“I apologize.” Diane was smiling again now as she noted the network of +scratches upon his outstretched palms. “You certainly have not been +idle,” she added, significantly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p><p>Then she became serious with a suddenness that showed how very near +the surface, how strongly marked was that quiet, thoughtful nature her +companion had first realized in her.</p> + +<p>“But I saw you on that mare, and I thought you would surely be killed. +Do you know they’ve tried to break her for two seasons, and failed +hopelessly. What happened after she bolted?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing much. I rode her to Forks and back twice.”</p> + +<p>“Forty miles! Good gracious! What is she like now?”</p> + +<p>“Done up, of course. Jake assures me I’ve broken her heart; but I +haven’t. My Lady Jezebel has a heart of stone that would take +something in the nature of a sledge-hammer to break. She’ll buck like +the mischief again to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>The girl nodded. She had witnessed the battle between the “tenderfoot” +and the mare; and, now that it was all over, she felt pleased that he +had won. And there was no mistaking the approval in the glance she +gave him. She understood the spirit that had moved him to drive the +mare that forty miles; nor, in spite of a certain sympathy for the +jaded creature, did she condemn him for it. She was too much a child +of the prairie to morbidly sentimentalize over the matter. The mare +was a savage of the worst type, and she knew that prairie horses in +their breaking often require drastic treatment. It was the stubborn, +purposeful character of the man that she admired, and thought <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>most +of. He had carried out a task that the best horse-breaker in the +country might reasonably have shrunk from, and all to please the +brutal nature of Jake Harnach.</p> + +<p>“And you’ve christened her ‘Lady Jezebel’?” she asked.</p> + +<p>Tresler laughed. “Why, yes, it seems to suit her,” he said +indifferently.</p> + +<p>Then a slight pause followed which amounted almost to awkwardness. The +girl had come to find him. Her visit was not a matter of chance. She +wanted to talk to this man from the East. And, somehow, Tresler +understood that this was so. For some moments she sat stroking +Bessie’s shoulder with her rawhide riding-switch. The mare grew +restive. She, too, seemed to understand something of the awkwardness, +and did her best to break it up by one or two of her frivolous +gambols. When she had been pacified, the girl leaned forward in her +saddle and looked straight into her companion’s eyes.</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” she said, abruptly; “why did you ride that animal?”</p> + +<p>The man laughed a little harshly. “Because—well, because I hadn’t +sense enough to refuse, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, I understand. Jake Harnach.”</p> + +<p>Tresler shrugged.</p> + +<p>“I came out purposely to speak to you,” the girl went on, in a quiet, +direct manner. There was not the least embarrassment now. She had made +up her mind to avoid all chance of misunderstanding. “I want to put +matters quite plainly before you. This morning’s <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>business was only a +sequel to your meeting with Jake, or rather a beginning of the +sequel.”</p> + +<p>Tresler shook his head and smiled. “Not the beginning of the sequel. +That occurred last evening, after I left you.”</p> + +<p>Diane looked a swift inquiry.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Jake is not an easy man. But believe me, Miss Marbolt, you need +have no fear. I see what it is; you, in the kindness of your heart, +dread that I, a stranger here in your land, in your home, may be +maltreated, or even worse by that unconscionable ruffian. Knowing your +father’s affliction, you fear that I have no protection from Jake’s +murderous savagery, and you are endeavoring bravely to thrust your +frail self between us, and so stave off a catastrophe. Have no fear. I +do not anticipate a collision. He is only an atrocious bully.”</p> + +<p>“He is more than that. You underestimate him.”</p> + +<p>The girl’s face had darkened. Her lips were firmly compressed, and an +angry fire burned in her usually soft eyes.</p> + +<p>Tresler, watching, read the hatred for Jake; read the hatred, and saw +that which seemed so out of place in the reliant little face. A +pronounced fear was also expressed, and the two were so marked that it +was hard to say which feeling predominated. Hatred had stirred depths +of fire in her beautiful eyes, but fear had paled her features, had +set drawn lines about her mouth and brows. He wondered.</p> + +<p>“You are right, Mr. Tresler, in that you think I dread for your +safety,” she went on presently. “It was certainly <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>that dread that +brought me out here to-day. You do not anticipate a collision because +you are a brave man. You have no fear, therefore you give no thought +to possibilities. I am weak and a woman, and I see with eyes of +understanding and knowledge of Jake, and I know that the collision +will be forced upon you; and, further, when the trouble comes, Jake +will take no chances. But you must not think too well of me. Believe +me, there is selfishness at the root of my anxiety. Do you not see +what trouble it will cause to us; my father, me?”</p> + +<p>Tresler looked away. The girl had a strange insistence. It seemed to +him folly to consider the matter so seriously. He was convinced that +she was holding something back; that she was concealing her real +reason—perhaps the reason of her own fear of Jake—for thus +importuning him. It did not take him long to make up his mind with +those lovely, appealing eyes upon him. He turned back to her with a +frank smile, and held out his hand. Diane responded, and they shook +hands like two friends making a bargain.</p> + +<p>“You are right, Miss Marbolt,” he said. “I promise you to do all in my +power to keep the peace with Jake. But,” and here he held up a finger +in mock warning, “anything in the nature of a physical attack will be +resented—to the last.”</p> + +<p>Diane nodded. She had obtained all the assurance he would give, she +knew, and wisely refrained from further pressure.</p> + +<p>Now a silence fell. The sun was dropping low in the west, and already +the shadows on the grass were <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>lengthening. Tresler brought his +grazing horse back. When he returned Diane reverted to something he +had said before.</p> + +<p>“This ‘sequel’ you spoke of. You didn’t tell me it.” Her manner had +changed, and she spoke almost lightly.</p> + +<p>“The matter of the sequel was a trivial affair, and only took the form +of Jake’s spleen in endeavoring to make my quarters as uncomfortable +for me as possible. No, the incident I had chiefly in mind was +something altogether different. It was all so strange—so very +strange,” he went on reflectively. “One adventure on top of another +ever since my arrival. The last, and strangest of all, did not occur +until nearly midnight.”</p> + +<p>He looked up with a smile, but only to find that Diane’s attention was +apparently wandering.</p> + +<p>The girl was gazing out over the waving grass-land with deep, +brooding, dreamy eyes. There was no anger in them now, only her +features looked a little more drawn and hard. The man waited for a +moment, then as she did not turn he went on.</p> + +<p>“You have strange visitors at the ranch, Miss Marbolt—very strange. +They come stealthily in the dead of night; they come through the +shelter of the pinewoods, where it is dark, almost black, at night. +They come with faces masked—at least one face——”</p> + +<p>He got no further. There was no lack of effect now. Diane was round +upon him, gazing at him with frightened eyes.</p> + +<p>“You saw them?” she cried; and a strident ring had replaced her +usually soft tones.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p><p>“Them? Who?”</p> + +<p>For a moment they stared into each other’s eyes. He inquiringly; she +with fear and mingled horror.</p> + +<p>“These—these visitors.” The words came almost in a whisper.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And what were they like?”</p> + +<p>The girl spoke apprehensively.</p> + +<p>Then Tresler told his story as he had told it to Joe Nelson. And Diane +hung on every word he uttered, searching him through and through with +her troubled eyes.</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do about it?” she asked as he finished.</p> + +<p>Tresler was struck with the peculiarity of the question. She expressed +no surprise, no wonder. It seemed as though the matter was in nowise +new to her. Her whole solicitude was in her anticipation of what he +would do about it.</p> + +<p>“I am not sure,” he said, concealing his surprise under a leisurely +manner. “I had intended to tell Jake,” he went on a moment later, +“only the Lady Jezebel put it out of my head. I told Joe Nelson last +night. He told me I had seen Red Mask, the cattle thief, and one of +his men. He also tried to get me to promise that I would say nothing +about it to Jake. I refused to give that promise. He gave me no +sufficient reasons, you see, and—well, I failed to see the necessity +for silence.”</p> + +<p>“But there is a necessity, Mr. Tresler. The greatest.” Diane’s tone +was thrilling with an almost fierce earnestness. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>“Joe was right. Jake +is the last person to whom you should tell your story.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“Why?” Diane echoed, with a mirthless laugh. “Pshaw!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, why? I have a right to know, Miss Marbolt.”</p> + +<p>“You shall know all I can tell you.” The girl seemed on the verge of +making an impulsive statement, but suddenly stopped; and when at last +she did proceed her tone was more calm and so low as to be little +above a whisper. “Visitors such as you have seen have been seen by +others before. The story, as you have told it, has in each case been +told to Jake by the unfortunate who witnessed these strange movements +at night——”</p> + +<p>“Unfortunate?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. The informant has always met with misfortune, accident—whatever +you like to call it. Listen; it is a long story, but I will merely +outline the details I wish to impress on you. Some years ago this Red +Mask appeared from no one knows where. Curiously enough his appearance +was in the vicinity of this ranch. We were robbed, and he vanished. +Some time later he was seen again, much the same as you saw him last +night. One of our boys gave the warning to Jake. Two days later the +poor fellow who informed upon him was found shot on the trail into +Forks. Later, again, another hand witnessed a somewhat similar scene +and gave information. His end was by drowning in a shallow part of the +river. Folks attributed his end to drink, but——Again Red Mask +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>showed up—always at night—again he was seen, and Jake was warned. +The victim this time met his death by the falling of a rock in the +foot-hills. The rock killed horse and rider. And so it has gone on at +varying intervals. Eight men have been similarly treated. The ninth, +Arizona, barely escaped with his life a little while ago. I’ve no +doubt but that some accident will happen to him yet. And, mark this, +in each case the warning has gone first to Jake. I may be altogether +wrong; certainly other folks do not look upon the death of these +various men with suspicion, but I have watched, and reasoned out all I +have seen. And——”</p> + +<p>“Why, Jake must——”</p> + +<p>“Hush!”</p> + +<p>Diane gazed round her apprehensively.</p> + +<p>“No, no, Mr. Tresler,” she went on hurriedly, “I do not say that; I +dare not think of it. Jake has been with us so long; he cares for +father’s interest as for his own. In spite of his terrible nature he +is father’s—friend.”</p> + +<p>“And the man who intends to marry you,” Tresler added to himself. +Aloud he asked, “Then how do you account for it?”</p> + +<p>“That’s just it. I—I don’t account for it. I only warn you not to +take your story to Jake.”</p> + +<p>Tresler drew a step nearer, and stood so close to her that her +dungaree skirt was almost touching him. He looked up in a manner that +compelled her gaze.</p> + +<p>“You do account for it, Miss Marbolt,” he said emphatically.</p> + +<p>Nor did the girl attempt denial. Just for a moment <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>there was a +breathless silence. Then Bessie pawed the ground, and thrust her nose +into the face of Tresler’s horse in friendly, caressing fashion; and +the movement broke the spell.</p> + +<p>“Urge me no further, Mr. Tresler,” Diane exclaimed appealingly. “Do +not make me say something I have no right to say; something I might +have cause to regret all my life. Believe me, I hardly know what to +believe, and what not to believe; I hardly know what to think. I can +only speak as my instinct guides me. Oh, Mr. Tresler, I—I can trust +you. Yes—I know I can.”</p> + +<p>The girl’s appeal had its effect. Tresler reached up and caught the +little outstretched hands.</p> + +<p>“Yes, you can trust me, Miss Marbolt,” he said with infinite kindness. +“You have done the very best thing you could have done. You have given +me your confidence—a trouble that I can see has caused you ages of +unhappiness. I confess you have opened up suspicions that seem almost +preposterous, but you——” He broke off, and stood gazing down +thoughtfully at the two hands he still held clasped within his. Then +he seemed to become suddenly aware of the position, and, with a slight +laugh, released them. “Pardon me,” he said, glancing up into the +troubled eyes with a kindly smile. “I was dreaming. Come, let us +return to the ranch. It is time. It will be pleasant riding in the +cool. By Jove, I begin to think that it is more than possible I owe +Jake considerable gratitude after all.”</p> + +<p>“You owe him nothing,” answered Diane, with angry emphasis. “You owe +him nothing but obedience <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>as a ranch hand, and that you will have to +pay him. For the rest, avoid him as you would a pest.”</p> + +<p>Tresler sprang into the saddle, and the horses ambled leisurely off in +the direction of the ranch. And, as he rode, he set aside all thoughts +of Jake and of Red Mask. He thought only of the girl herself, of her +delightful companionship.</p> + +<p>His steady-going horse, with due regard for the sex of his companion, +allowed Bess to lead him by a neck. He traveled amiably by her side, +every now and then raising his nose as though to bite his spirited +little companion, but it was only pretense. Nor did Tresler urge him +faster. He preferred that they should travel thus. He could gaze to +his heart’s content upon Diane without displaying rudeness. He could +watch the trim, erect figure, poised so easily and gracefully upon the +saddle. She rode like one born to the saddle, and by the gait of her +mare, he could see that her hands were of the lightest, yet firm and +convincing to the high-mettled animal they controlled.</p> + +<p>The girl was a perfect picture as she rode; her rich, dark hair was +loosely coiled, and several waving ringlets had fluffed loose with the +breeze and motion of riding, and strayed from the shadow of her wide +hat. Tresler’s thoughts went back to his home; and, he told himself, +none of the horsewomen he had known could have displayed such an +abundant grace in the saddle with their rigid habits and smart hats. +There was nothing of the riding-school here; just the horsemanship +that is so much a natural instinct.</p> + +<p>And so they rode on to the ranch.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>THE KILLING OF MANSON ORR</h3> + +<p>All was still and drowsy about the ranch. Every available hand was out +at work upon some set task, part of the daily routine of the cattle +world. Mosquito Bend was a splendid example of discipline, for Jake +was never the man to let his men remain idle. Even Arizona had been +set to herd the milch cows and generally tend the horses remaining in +the barn; and Tresler, too, was further acquainting himself with the +cantankerous nature of barbed-wire fencing.</p> + +<p>On this particular afternoon there was nothing about the ranch to +indicate the undercurrent of trouble Tresler had so quickly discovered +to be flowing beneath its calm surface. The sun was pouring down upon +the wiltering foliage with a fierceness which had set the insect world +droning its drowsy melody; the earth was already parching; the sloughs +were already dry, and the tall grass therein was rapidly ripening +against the season of haying. But in spite of the seeming peace; in +spite of the cloudless sky, the pastoral beauty of the scene, the +almost inaudible murmur of the distant river, the tide was flowing +swiftly and surely. It was leaping with the roar of a torrent.</p> + +<p>A clatter of horse’s hoofs broke up the quiet, and came rattling over +the river trail. The noise reached <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>Jake’s ears and set him alert. He +recognized the eager haste, the terrific speed, of the animal +approaching. He rose from his bunk and stood ready, and a look of deep +interest was in his bold black eyes. Suddenly a horseman came into +view. He was leaning well over his horse’s neck, urging to a race with +whip and spur. Jake saw him sweep by and breast the rise to the +rancher’s house.</p> + +<p>At the verandah the man flung off his horse, and left the drooping +beast standing while he hammered at the door. There was some delay, +and he repeated his summons still more forcibly, adding his voice to +his demand.</p> + +<p>“Hello there!” he called. “Any one in?”</p> + +<p>“Archie Orr,” Jake muttered to himself, as he stepped out of his hut.</p> + +<p>The next moment the man at the verandah was caught up in the full +blast of the foreman’s half-savage and wholly hectoring protest.</p> + +<p>“What blazin’ racket are you raisin’ ther’?” he roared, charging up +the hill with heavy, hurried strides. “This ain’t Skitter Reach, you +dog-gone coyote, nor that ain’t your pap’s shanty. What’s itchin’ you, +blast you?”</p> + +<p>Archie swung round at the first shout. There was a wild expression on +his somewhat weak face. It was the face of a weak nature suddenly +worked up into the last pitch of frenzy. But even so the approach of +Jake was not without its effect. His very presence was full of threat +to the weaker man. Archie was no physical coward, but, in that first +moment of meeting, he felt as <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>if he had been suddenly taken by the +collar, lifted up and shaken, and forcibly set down on his feet again. +And his reply came in a tone that voiced the mental process he had +passed through.</p> + +<p>“I’ve come for help. I was in Forks last night, and only got home this +afternoon,” he answered, with unnatural calmness. Then the check gave +way before his hysterical condition, and Jake’s momentary influence +was lost upon him. “I tell you it’s Red Mask! It’s him and his gang! +They’ve shot my father down; they’ve burned us out, and driven off our +stock! God’s curse on the man! But I’ll have him. I’ll hunt him down. +Ha! ha!” The young man’s blue eyes flashed and his face worked as his +hysteria rose and threatened to overwhelm him. “You hear?” he shouted +on—“what does it say? Blood for blood. I’ll have it! Give me some +help. Give me horses, and I’ll have it! I’ll——” His voice had risen +to a shriek.</p> + +<p>“You’ll shut off that damned noise, or”—Jake’s ferocious face was +thrust forward, and his fierce eyes glared furiously into the +other’s—“or git.”</p> + +<p>Archie shrank back silenced at once. The effect suited the foreman, +and he went on with a sardonic leer—</p> + +<p>“An’ you’ll have ‘blood for blood’ o’ Red Mask? You? You who was away +boozin’ in Forks when you’d a right to ha’ been around lookin’ to see +that old skinflint of a father o’ yours didn’t git no hurt. You’re +goin’ to round up Red Mask; you who ain’t got guts enough but to crawl +round here fer help to do it. You!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p><p>A hot reply sprang to the youngster’s lips in spite of his fear of +this man, but it died suddenly as a voice from within the doorway +broke in upon them.</p> + +<p>“And a right purpose too, Archie.”</p> + +<p>Diane stepped out on to the verandah and ranged herself at his side, +while her scornful brown eyes sought the foreman’s face. There was a +moment’s pause, then she looked up into the boy’s troubled face.</p> + +<p>“You want to see my father?”</p> + +<p>Archie was only eighteen, and though well grown and muscular, he was +still only a boy.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss Diane; I do want to see him. I want to borrow a couple of +horses from him, and to ask his advice.”</p> + +<p>Archie’s recent heat and hysteria had soothed under the influence of +the girl’s presence. He now stood bowed and dejected; he appeared to +have suddenly grown old. Jake watched the scene with a sneer on his +brutal face, but remained silent now that Diane was present.</p> + +<p>“I will rouse him myself,” she said quietly, moving toward the door. +“Yes, you shall see him, Archie. I heard what you said just now, and +I’ll tell him. But——” She broke off, hesitating. Then she came back +to him. “Is—is your father dead, or—only wounded?”</p> + +<p>The boy’s head dropped forward, and two great tears rolled slowly down +his cheeks. Diane turned away, and a far-off look came into her steady +brown eyes. There was a silence for a moment, then a deep, +heart-broken sob came from the lad at her side. She flashed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>one hard +glance in Jake’s direction and turned to her companion, gently +gripping his arm in a manner that expressed a world of womanly +sympathy. Her touch, her quiet, strong helpfulness, did more for him +than any formal words of condolence could have done. He lifted his +head and dashed the tears from his face; and the girl smiled +encouragement upon him.</p> + +<p>“Wait here,” she said; “I will go and fetch father.”</p> + +<p>She slipped away, leaving the two men alone. And when she had gone, +the foreman’s raucous voice sounded harshly on the still air.</p> + +<p>“Say, you ain’t smart, neither. We got one of your kidney around here +now. Kind o’ reckons to fix the old man through the girl. Most +weak-kneed fellers gamble a pile on petticoats. Wal, I guess you’re +right out. Marbolt ain’t easy that way. You’ll be sorry you fetched +him from his bed, or I don’t know him.”</p> + +<p>Archie made no reply. Nor was any more talk possible, for at that +moment there came the steady tap, tap, of the blind man’s stick down +the passage, and the two men faced the door expectantly. The rancher +shuffled out on to the verandah. Diane was at his side, and led him +straight over to young Orr. The old man’s head was poised alertly for +a second; then he turned swiftly in the foreman’s direction.</p> + +<p>“Hah! that you, Jake?” He nodded as he spoke, and then turned back to +the other. The blind man’s instinct seemed something more than human.</p> + +<p>“Eh? Your father murdered, boy?” Marbolt questioned, without the least +softening of tone. “Murdered?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p><p>Archie gulped down his rising emotion. But there was no life in his +answer—his words came in a tone of utter hopelessness.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; shot down, I gather, in defense of our homestead.”</p> + +<p>The steady stare of the rancher’s red eyes was hard to support. Archie +felt himself weaken before the personality of this man he had come to +see.</p> + +<p>“Gather?”</p> + +<p>The hardness of his greeting had now changed to the gentleness of tone +in which the blind man usually spoke. But the boy drew no confidence +from it while confronted by those unseeing eyes. It was Diane who +understood and replied for him.</p> + +<p>“Yes; Archie was in Forks last night, on business, father. He only +learned what had happened on returning home this afternoon. He—he +wants some help.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” Archie went on quickly; “only a little help. I came home +to find our homestead burned clean out. Not a roof left to shelter my +mother and sister, and not one living beast left upon the place, +except the dogs. Oh, my God, it is awful! Mother and Alice were +sitting beside the corral gate weeping fit to break their hearts over +the dead body of father when I found them. And the story, as I learned +it, sir, was simple—horribly, terribly simple. They were roused at +about two in the morning by the dogs barking. Father, thinking timber +wolves were around, went out with a gun. He saw nothing till he got to +the corrals. Then mother, watching from her window, saw the flash of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>several guns, and heard the rattle of their reports. Father dropped. +Then the gang of murderers roused out the stock, and some drove it +off, while others wantonly fired the buildings. It was Red Mask, sir, +for he came up to the house and ordered mother out before the place +was fired. She is sure it was him because of his mask. She begged him +not to burn her home, but the devil had no remorse; he vouchsafed only +one reply. Maybe she forced him to an answer with her appeal; maybe he +only spoke to intimidate others who might hear of his words from her. +Anyway, he said, ‘Your man and you open your mouths too wide around +this place. Manson Orr wrote in to the police, and asked for +protection. You won’t need it now, neither will he.’” He paused, while +the horror of his story sank deeply into the heart of at least one of +his hearers. Then he went on with that eager, nervous fire he had at +first displayed: “Mr. Marbolt, I look to you to help me. I’ve got +nothing to keep me now from following this devil of a man. I want to +borrow horses, and I’ll hunt him down. I’ll hunt him down while I’ve a +breath left in my body, sir,” he went on, with rising passion. “I’ll +pay him if it takes me my lifetime! Only lend me the horses, sir. It +is as much to your interest as mine, for he has robbed you before now; +your property is no more safe than any other man’s. Let us combine to +fight him, to bring him down, to measure him his full measure, to send +him to hell, where he belongs. I’ll do this——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, while your mother and sister starve,” put in the blind man, +drily. Then, as the fire of Archie’s passion <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>suddenly sank at the +cold, incisive words, and he remained silent and abashed, he went on, +in quiet, even tones, while his red eyes were focussed upon his +visitor’s face with disconcerting directness, “No, no; go you—I won’t +say ‘home,’ but go you to your mother and sister: look after them, +care for them, work for them. You owe that to them before any act of +vengeance be made. When you have achieved their comfort, you are at +liberty to plunge into any rashness you choose. I am no youngster, +Archie Orr, I am a man of years, who has seen, all my life, only +through a brain rendered doubly acute by lack of sight, and my advice +is worthy of your consideration. You have nothing more to fear from +Red Mask at present, but if you continue your headlong course you will +have; and, as far as I can make out, his hand is heavy and swift in +falling. Go back to your women-folk, I say. You can get no horses from +me for such a foolhardy purpose as you meditate.”</p> + +<p>Diane had watched her father closely, and as he finished speaking, she +moved toward the bereaved man and laid a hand upon his arm in gentle +appeal.</p> + +<p>“Father is right, Archie. Go back to them, those two lonely, +broken-hearted women. You can do all for them if you will. They need +all that your kind, honest heart can bestow. It is now that you must +show the stuff you are made of.”</p> + +<p>Archie had turned away; but he looked round and mechanically glanced +down at the brown hand still resting upon his arm. The sight of it +held him for some moments, and when he raised his head a new <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>look was +in his eyes. The sympathy in her tones, the gentle encouragement of +the few words she had spoken, had completed that which the sound but +unsympathetic advice of her father had begun.</p> + +<p>His purpose had been the wild impulse of unstable youth; there was no +strength to it, no real resolution. Besides, he was a gentle-hearted +lad, to whom Diane’s appeal for his mother and sister was +irresistible.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Miss Diane,” he said, with a profound sigh. “Your kind +heart has seen where my anger has been blind. Yes, I will return and +help my mother. And I thank you, sir,” he went on, turning reluctantly +to face the stare of the rancher’s eyes again. “You, too, have plainly +shown me my duty, and I shall follow it, but—if ever——”</p> + +<p>“And you’ll do well,” broke in Jake, with a rough laugh that jarred +terribly. “Your father’s paid his pound. If his son’s wise, he’ll hunt +his hole.”</p> + +<p>Archie’s eyes flashed ominously. Diane saw the look, and, in an +instant, drew his attention to his horse, which was moving off toward +the barn.</p> + +<p>“See, Archie,” she said, with a gentle smile, “your horse is weary, +and is looking for rest.”</p> + +<p>The boy read her meaning. He held out his hand impulsively, and the +girl placed hers into it. In a moment his other had closed over it, +and he shook it tenderly. Then, without a word, he made off after his +horse.</p> + +<p>The blind man’s face was turned in his direction as he went, and when +the sound of his footsteps had died away, he turned abruptly and +tapped his way back to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>the door. At the threshold he turned upon the +foreman.</p> + +<p>“Two days in succession I have been disturbed,” he gritted out. “You +are getting past your work, Jake Harnach.”</p> + +<p>“Father——” Diane started forward in alarm, but he cut her short.</p> + +<p>“And as for you, miss, remember your place in my house. Go, look to +your duties. Sweep, wash, cook, sew. Those are the things your sex is +made for. What interest have you, dare you have, in that brainless +boy? Let him fight his own battles. It may make a man of him; though I +doubt it. He is nothing to you.”</p> + +<p>Diane shrank before the scathing blast of that sightless fury. But she +rallied to protest.</p> + +<p>“It is the women-folk, father.”</p> + +<p>“Women-folk? Bah!”</p> + +<p>He threw up his hands in ineffable scorn, and shuffled away into the +house.</p> + +<p>Jake, still smarting under the attack, stood leaning against the +verandah post. He was looking away down at the bunkhouse, where a +group of the men were gathered about Archie Orr, who, seated on his +horse, was evidently telling his tale afresh.</p> + +<p>Diane approached him. He did not even turn to meet her.</p> + +<p>“Jake, I want Bess at once. Hitch her to the buckboard, and have her +sent round to the kitchen door.”</p> + +<p>“What are you goin’ to do, my girl?” he asked, without shifting his +gaze.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p><p>“Maybe I shall drive over to see those poor women.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“You can’t have her.”</p> + +<p>Jake turned, and looked down at her from his great height. Archie Orr +had just ridden off.</p> + +<p>Diane returned his look fearlessly, and there was something in the +directness of her gaze that made the giant look away.</p> + +<p>“I think I can,” she said quietly. “Go and see to it now.”</p> + +<p>The man started. It seemed as if he were about to bluster. His bold, +black eyes flashed ominously, and it was plain from his attitude that +a flat and harsh refusal was on his lips. But somehow he didn’t say +it. The brutality of his expression slowly changed as he looked at +her. A gentle light stole slowly, and it seemed with difficulty, into +his eyes, where it looked as out of place as the love-light in the +eyes of a tiger. But there was no mistaking it. However incongruous it +was there, and the lips that had been framing a cruel retort merely +gave utterance to a quiet acquiescence.</p> + +<p>“All right. I’ll send her round in five minutes.”</p> + +<p>And Diane went into the house at once.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, a great discussion of young Orr’s affairs was going on at +the bunkhouse. Arizona had vacated his favorite seat, and was now +holding the floor. His pale face was flushed with a hectic glow of +excitement. He was taxing his little stock of strength to the +uttermost, and, at least, some of those looking on listening to him +knew it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p><p>“I tell you ther’ ain’t nothin’ fer it but to roll up to old blind +hulks an’ ast him to send us out. Ef this dog-gone skunk’s let be, +ther’ ain’t no stock safe. Guess I’ve had my med’cine from ’em, and +I’m jest crazy fer more. I’ve had to do wi’ fellers o’ their kidney +’fore, I guess. We strung six of ’em up in a day on the same tree down +Arizona way, as that gray-headed possum, Joe Nelson, well remembers. +Say, we jest cleaned our part o’ that country right quick. Guess ther’ +wa’n’t a ‘bad man’ wuth two plugs o’ nickel chawin’ around when we’d +finished gettin’ ’em. Say, this feller’s played it long enough, an’ +I’m goin’ right now to see the boss. He’s around. Who’s comin’?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, an’ Archie Orr’s a pore sort o’ crittur to git left wi’ two +women-folk,” said Raw Harris, rising from his upturned bucket and +putting forth his argument, regardless of its irrelevance. “Not a +stick to shelter him—which I mean ‘them.’ An’ not a dog-gone cent +among ’em. By G——, Arizona’s right.”</p> + +<p>“That’s it,” put in Joe Nelson; “you’ve hit it. Not a dog-gone cent +among ’em, an’, what’s more, owin’ blind hulks a whole heap o’ bills +on mortgage. Say, that was mostly a weak move him askin’ the boss fer +help. Why, I guess old Marbolt hates hisself on’y one shade wuss’n he +hated Manson Orr. Say, boys, ef we’re askin’ to lynch Red Mask, we +ain’t askin’ in any fancy name like ‘Orr.’ Savee?”</p> + +<p>There was silence for a moment while they digested the wisdom of the +suggestion. Then Jacob Smith nodded, and Lew Cawley murmured—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p><p>“Dead gut every time, is Joe.”</p> + +<p>This loosened their tongues again until Tresler spoke.</p> + +<p>“See here, boys, you’re talking of lynching, and haven’t a notion of +how you’re going to get your man. Don’t even know where to lay hands +on him. Do you think Marbolt’s going to turn us all loose on the +war-path? Not he. And how are two or three of us going to get a gang +of ten or twelve? Besides, I believe it’ll be easier to get him +without a lynching party. Remember he’s no ordinary cattle-rustler. I +say lie low, he’ll come our way, and then——”</p> + +<p>“That’s it, lie low,” broke in Joe Nelson, shaking his gray head over +a pannikin of tea, and softly blowing a clearing among the dead flies +floating on its surface. “Maybe y’ ain’t heard as the sheriff’s come +around Forks. Guess he’s fixed a station ther’.”</p> + +<p>“He’s already done so?” asked Tresler.</p> + +<p>“Yup.”</p> + +<p>“By Jove! The very thing, boys. Don’t roll up. Don’t do any lynching. +The sheriff’s the boy for Red Mask.”</p> + +<p>But Arizona, backed by Raw Harris, would have none of it. They were of +the old-time stock who understood only old-time methods, and cordially +resented any peaceful solution to the difficulty. They wanted a +lynching, and no argument would dissuade them. And after much +discussion it was Arizona’s final word that carried the day.</p> + +<p>“Now, you see, Tresler,” he said huskily, for his voice was tired with +sustained effort. “You’re the remarkablest smart ‘tenderfoot’ that +ever I see. Say, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>you’re a right smart daddy—an’ I ain’t given to +latherin’ soap-suds neither. But ther’s suthin’s I calc’late that no +‘tenderfoot,’ smart as he may be, is goin’ to locate right. Hoss +thieves is hoss thieves, an’ needs stringin’. Ther’ ain’t nuthin’ for +it but a rawhide rope fer them fellers. Guess I’ve seen more’n you’ve +heerd tell of. Say, boys, who’s goin’ to see the boss? Guess he’s +right ther’ on the verandah.”</p> + +<p>Though there was no verbal reply as the wild American turned to move +off, there was a general movement to follow him. Raw Harris started +it. Pannikins were set down upon the ground, and, to a man, the rest +followed in their leader’s wake. Tresler went too, but he went only +because he knew it would be useless—even dangerous—to hold back. The +general inclination was to follow the lead of this volcanic man. +Besides, he had only voiced that which appealed to them all. The +gospel of restraint was not in their natures. Only Joe Nelson really +endorsed Tresler’s opinion. But then Joe was a man who had lived his +youth out, and had acquired that level-headedness from experience +which Tresler possessed instinctively. Besides, he was in touch with +Diane. He had lived more than ten years on that ranch, during which +time he had stood by watching with keenly observant eyes the doings of +the cattle world about him. But he, too, in spite of his own good +reason, moved on to the verandah with the rest.</p> + +<p>And Jake saw the movement and understood, and he reached the verandah +first and warned the blind man of their coming.</p> + +<p>And Tresler’s prophecy was more than fulfilled. As <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>they came they saw +the rancher rise from his seat. He faced them, a tall, awesome figure +in his long, full dressing-gown. His large, clean-cut head, his gray, +clipped beard, the long aquiline nose, and, overshadowing all, his +staring, red eyes; even on Arizona he had a damping effect.</p> + +<p>“Well?” he questioned, as the men halted before him. Then, as no +answer was forthcoming, he repeated his inquiry. “Well?”</p> + +<p>And Arizona stepped to the front. “Wal, boss, it’s this a-ways,” he +began. “These rustlers, I guess——”</p> + +<p>But the blind man cut him short. The frowning brows drew closer over +the sightless eyes, which were focussed upon the cowpuncher with a +concentration more overpowering than if their vision had been +unimpaired.</p> + +<p>“Eh? So you’ve been listening to young Orr,” he said, with a quietness +in marked contrast to the expression of his face. “And you want to get +after them?” Then he shook his head, and the curious depression of his +brows relaxed, and a smile hovered round his mouth. “No, no, boys; +it’s useless coming to me. Worse than useless. You, Arizona, should +know better. There are not enough ranches round here to form a +lynching party, if one were advisable. And I can’t spare men from +here. Why, to send enough men from here to deal with this gang would +leave my place at their mercy. Tut, tut, it is impossible. You must +see it yourselves.”</p> + +<p>“But you’ve been robbed before, sir,” Arizona broke out in protest.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p><p>“Yes, yes.” There was a grating of impatience in the blind man’s +voice, and the smile had vanished. “And I prefer to be robbed of a few +beeves again rather than run the chance of being burned out by those +scoundrels. I’ll have no argument about the matter. I can spare no +hand among you. I’ll not police this district for anybody. You +understand—for anybody. I will not stop you—any of you”—his words +came with a subtle fierceness now, and were directed at Arizona—“but +of this I assure you, any man who leaves this ranch to set out on any +wild-goose chase after these rustlers leaves it for good. That’s all I +have to say.”</p> + +<p>Arizona was about to retort hotly, but Tresler, who was standing close +up to him, plucked at his shirt-sleeve, and, strangely enough, his +interference had its effect. The man glared round, but when he saw who +it was that had interrupted him, he made no further effort to speak. +The wild man of the prairie was feeling the influence of a stronger, +or, at least, a steadier nature than his own. And Jake’s lynx eyes +watching saw the movement, and he understood.</p> + +<p>The men moved reluctantly away. Their moody looks and slouching gait +loudly voiced their feelings. No words passed between them until they +were well out of ear-shot. And Tresler realized now the wonderful +power of brain behind the sightless eyes of the rancher. Now, he +understood something of the strength which had fought the battle, +sightless though he was, of those early days; now he comprehended the +man who could employ a man of Jake’s character, and have <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>strength +enough to control him. That afternoon’s exhibition made a profound +impression on him.</p> + +<p>Their supper was finished before they set out for the house, and now +the men, murmuring, discontented, and filled with resentment against +the rancher, loafed idly around the bunkhouse. They smoked and chewed +and discussed the matter as angry men who are thwarted in their plans +will ever do. Tresler and Joe alone remained quiet. Tresler, for the +reason that a definite plan was gradually forming in his brain out of +the chaos of events, and Joe because he was watching the other for his +own obscure reasons.</p> + +<p>The sun had set when Tresler separated himself from his companions. +Making his way down past the lower corrals he took himself to the +ford. Joe thoughtfully watched him go.</p> + +<p>Seated on a fallen tree-trunk Tresler pondered long and deeply. He was +thinking of Joe’s information that the sheriff had at last set up a +station at Forks. Why should he not carry his story to him? Why should +he not take this man into his confidence, and so work out the trapping +of the gang? And, if Jake were——</p> + +<p>He had no time to proceed further. His thoughts were interrupted by +the sound of wheels, followed, a moment later, by the splash of a +horse crossing the ford. He turned in the direction whence the sound +came, and beheld Bessie hauling a buckboard up the bank of the river; +at the same instant he recognized the only occupant of the vehicle. It +was Diane returning from her errand of mercy.</p> + +<p>Tresler sprang to his feet. He doffed his prairie hat <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>as the +buckboard drew abreast of him. Nor was he unmindful of the sudden +flush that surged to the girl’s cheeks as she recognized him. Without +any intention Diane checked the mare, and, a moment later, realizing +what she had done, she urged her on with unnecessary energy. But +Tresler had no desire that she should pass him in that casual fashion, +and, with a disarming smile, hailed her.</p> + +<p>“Don’t change a good mind, Miss Marbolt,” he cried.</p> + +<p>Whereat the blush returned to the girl’s cheek intensified, for she +knew that he had seen her intention. This time, however, she pulled up +decidedly, and turned a smiling face to him.</p> + +<p>“This is better than I bargained for,” he went on. “I came here to +think the afternoon’s events out, and—I meet you. I had no idea you +were out.”</p> + +<p>“I felt that Bess wanted exercise,” the girl answered evasively.</p> + +<p>Without asking herself why, Diane felt pleased at meeting this man. +Their first encounter had been no ordinary one. From the beginning he +seemed to link himself with her life. For her their hours of +acquaintance might have been years; years of mutual help and +confidence. However, she gathered her reins up as though to drive on. +Tresler promptly stayed her.</p> + +<p>“No, don’t go yet, Miss Marbolt, please. Pleasures that come +unexpectedly are pleasures indeed. I feel sure you will not cast me +back upon my gloomy thoughts.”</p> + +<p>Diane let the reins fall into her lap.</p> + +<p>“So your thoughts were gloomy; well, I don’t <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>wonder at it. There are +gloomy things happening. I was out driving, and thought I would look +in at Mosquito Reach. It has been razed to the ground.”</p> + +<p>“You have been to see—and help—young Orr’s mother and sister? I know +it. It was like you, Miss Marbolt,” Tresler said, with a genuine look +of admiration at the dark little face so overshadowed by the sun-hat.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be so ready to credit me with virtues I do not possess. We +women are curious. Curiosity is one of our most pronounced features. +Poor souls—their home is gone. Utterly—utterly gone. Oh, Mr. +Tresler, what are we to do? We cannot remain silent, and yet—we don’t +know. We can prove nothing.”</p> + +<p>“And what has become of them—I mean Mrs. Orr and her daughter?” +Tresler asked, for the moment ignoring the girl’s question.</p> + +<p>“They have gone into Forks.”</p> + +<p>“And food and money?”</p> + +<p>“I have seen to that.” Diane shrugged her shoulders to make light of +what she had done, but Tresler would not be put off.</p> + +<p>“Bless you for that,” he said, with simple earnestness. “I knew I was +right.” Then he reverted abruptly to her question. “But we can do +something; the sheriff has come to Forks.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know.” Diane’s tone suddenly became eager, almost hopeful. +“And father knows, and he is going to send in a letter to +Fyles—Sheriff Fyles is the great prairie detective, and is in charge +of Forks—welcoming him, and inviting him out here. He is <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>going to +tell him all he knows of these rustlers, and so endeavor to set him on +their track. Father laughs at the idea of the sheriff catching these +men. He says that they—the rustlers—are no ordinary gang, but clever +men, and well organized. But he thinks that if he gets Fyles around it +will save his property.”</p> + +<p>“And your father is wise. Yes, it will certainly have that effect; but +I, too, have a little idea that I have been working at, and—Miss +Marbolt, forgive the seeming impertinence, but I want to discuss Jake +again; this time from a personal point of view. You dislike Jake; +more, you have shown me that you fear him.”</p> + +<p>The girl hesitated before replying. This man’s almost brusque manner +of driving straight to his point was somewhat alarming. He gave her no +loophole. If she discussed the matter with him at all it must be +fully, or she must refuse to answer him.</p> + +<p>“I suppose I do fear him,” she said at last with a sigh. Then her face +suddenly lit up with an angry glow. “I fear him as any girl would fear +the man who, in defiance of her expressed hatred, thrusts his +attentions upon her. I fear him because of father’s blindness. I fear +him because he hopes in his secret heart some day to own this ranch, +these lands, all these splendid cattle, our fortune. Father will be +gone then. How? I don’t know. And I—I shall be Jake’s slave. These +are the reasons why I fear Jake, Mr. Tresler, since you insist on +knowing.”</p> + +<p>“I thank you, Miss Marbolt.” The gentle tone at once dispelled the +girl’s resentment. “You have suspicions which may prove to be right. +It was for <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>this reason I asked you to discuss Jake. One thing more +and I’ll have done. This Joe Nelson, he is very shrewd, he is in close +contact with you. How far is he to be trusted?”</p> + +<p>“To any length; with your life, Mr. Tresler,” the girl said with +enthusiasm. “Joe is nobody’s enemy but his own, poor fellow. I am +ashamed to admit it, but I have long since realized that when things +bother me so that I cannot bear them all alone, it is Joe that I look +to for help. He is so kind. Oh, Mr. Tresler, you cannot understand the +gentleness, the sympathy of his honest old heart. I am very, very fond +of Joe.”</p> + +<p>The man abruptly moved from his stand at the side of the buckboard, +and looked along the trail in the direction of the ranch. His action +was partly to check an impulse which the girl’s manner had roused in +him, and partly because his quick ears had caught the sound of some +one approaching. He was master of himself in a moment, however, and, +returning, smiled up into the serious eyes before him.</p> + +<p>“Well, Joe shall help me,” he said. “He shall help me as he has helped +you. If——” he broke off, listening. Then with great deliberation he +came close up to the buckboard. “Miss—Diane,” he said, and the girl’s +lids lowered before the earnestness of his gaze, “you shall +never—while I live—be the slave of Jake Harnach.”</p> + +<p>Nor had Tresler time to move away before a tall figure rounded the +bend of the trail. In the dusk he mistook the newcomer for Jake, then, +as he saw how slim he was, he realized his mistake.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p><p>The man came right up to the buckboard with swift, almost stealthy +strides. The dark olive of his complexion, the high cheek-bones, the +delicately chiseled, aquiline nose, the perfectly penciled eyebrows +surmounting the quick, keen, handsome black eyes; these things +combined with the lithe, sinuous grace of an admirably poised body +made him a figure of much attraction.</p> + +<p>The man ignored Tresler, and addressed the girl in the buckboard in a +tone that made the former’s blood boil.</p> + +<p>“The boss, him raise hell. Him say, ‘I mak’ her wish she not been born +any more.’ Him say, ‘Go you, Anton, an’ find her, an’ you not leave +her but bring her back.’ Ho, the boss, your father, he mad. Hah?” The +half-breed grinned, and displayed a flashing set of teeth. “So I go,” +he went on, still smiling in his impudent manner. “I look out. I see +the buckboard come down to the river. I know you come. I see from +there back”—he pointed away to the bush—“you talk with this man, an’ +I wait. So!”</p> + +<p>Diane was furious. Her gentle brown eyes flashed, and two bright +patches of color burned on her cheeks. The half-breed watched her +carelessly. Turning to Tresler she held out her hand abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Good-night, Mr. Tresler,” she said quietly. Then she chirruped to her +light-hearted mare and drove off.</p> + +<p>Anton looked after her. “Sacre!” he cried, with a light shrug. “She is +so mad—so mad. Voilà!” and he leisurely followed in the wake of the +buckboard.</p> + +<p>And Tresler looked after him. Then it was that his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>thoughts reverted +to the scene in the saloon at Forks. So this was Anton—“Black” +Anton—the man who had slid into the country without any one knowing +it. He remembered Slum Ranks’s words and description. This was the man +who had the great Jake’s measure.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>WHICH DEALS WITH THE MATTER OF DRINK</h3> + +<p>Although the murder of Manson Orr caused a wide-spread outcry, it +ended at that in so far as the inhabitants of the district were +concerned. There were one or two individuals who pondered deeply on +the matter, and went quietly about a careful investigation, and of +these Tresler was the most prominent. He found excuse to visit the +scene of the outrage; he took interest in the half-breed settlement +six miles out from Mosquito Bend. He hunted among the foot-hills, even +into the obscurer confines of the mountains; and these doings of his +were the result of much thought, and the work of much time and +ingenuity; for everything had to be done without raising the suspicion +of anybody on the ranch, or for that matter, off it. Being a “green” +hand helped him. It was really astonishing how easily an intelligent +man like Tresler could get lost; and yet such was the deplorable fact. +Even Arizona’s opinion of him sank to zero, while Jake found a wide +scope for his sneering brutality.</p> + +<p>As the days lengthened out into a week, and then a fortnight passed +and nothing more was heard of Red Mask, the whole matter began to pass +out of mind, and gradually became relegated to the lore of the +country. It was added to the already long list of barroom <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>stories, to +be narrated, with embellishments, by such men as Slum or the worthy +Forks carpenter.</p> + +<p>The only thing that stuck in people’s minds, and that only because it +added fuel to an already deep, abiding, personal hatred, was the story +of Julian Marbolt’s treatment of young Archie Orr, and his refusal to +inaugurate a vigilance party. The blind man’s name, always one to +rouse the roughest side of men’s tongues, was now cursed more bitterly +than ever.</p> + +<p>And during these days the bunkhouse at Mosquito Bend seethed with +revolt. But though this was so, underneath all their most bitter +reflections the men were not without a faint hope of seeing the career +of these desperadoes cut short; and this hope sprang from the +knowledge of the coming of the sheriff to Forks. The faith of Arizona +and the older hands in the official capacity for dealing with these +people was a frail thing, but the younger set were less sceptical.</p> + +<p>And at last Julian Marbolt’s tardy invitation to Fyles was despatched. +Tresler had watched and waited for the sending of that letter; he had +hoped to be the bearer of it himself. It would have given him the +opportunity of making this Fyles’s acquaintance, which was a matter he +desired to accomplish as soon as possible, without drawing public +attention to the fact. But in this he was disappointed, for Jake sent +Nelson. Nor did he know of the little man’s going until he saw him +astride of his buckskin “shag-an-appy,” with the letter safely +bestowed in his wallet.</p> + +<p>This was not the only disappointment he experienced during that +fortnight. He saw little or nothing of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>Diane. To Tresler, at least, +their meeting at the ford was something more than a recollection. +Every tone of the girl’s voice, every look, every word she had spoken +remained with him, as these things will at the dawn of love. Many +times he tried to see her, but failed. Then he learned the meaning of +their separation. One day Joe brought him a note from Diane, in which +she told him how Black Anton had returned to her father and poured +into his only too willing ears a wilfully garbled story of their +meeting at the ford. She told him of her father’s anger, and how he +had forbidden her to leave the house unattended by at least one of his +two police—Anton and Jake. This letter made its recipient furious, +but it also started a secret correspondence between them, Joe Nelson +proving himself perfectly willing to act as go-between. And this +correspondence was infinitely pleasant to Tresler. He treasured +Diane’s letters with a jealous care, making no attempt to disguise the +truth from himself. He knew that he was falling hopelessly in +love—had fallen hopelessly in love.</p> + +<p>This was the position when the evening of the day came on which the +rancher’s invitation to Fyles had been despatched. The supper hash had +been devoured by healthy men with healthy appetites. Work was +practically over, there was nothing more to be done but feed, water, +and bed down the horses. And Joe Nelson had not yet returned from +Forks; he was at least five hours overdue.</p> + +<p>Arizona, practically recovered from his wound, was carefully soaping +his saddle, and generally preparing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>his accoutrements for return to +full work on the morrow. He had grown particularly sour and irritable +with being kept so long out of the saddle. His volcanic temper had +become even more than usually uncertain.</p> + +<p>His convalescence threw him a good deal into Tresler’s company, and a +sort of uncertain friendship had sprung up between them. Arizona at +first tolerated him, protested scathingly at his failures in the +craft, and ended by liking him; while the other cordially appreciated +the open, boisterous honesty of the cowpuncher. He was equally ready +to do a kindly action, or smite the man hip and thigh who chanced to +run foul of him. Tresler often told him that his nationality was a +mistake, that instead of being an American he should have been born in +Ireland.</p> + +<p>Just now the prospect of once more getting to work had put Arizona in +high good temper, and he took his comrades’ rough chaff +good-naturedly, giving as good as he got, and often a little better.</p> + +<p>Jacob Smith had been watching him for some time, and a thoughtful grin +had quietly taken possession of his features.</p> + +<p>“Soapin’ yer saddle,” he observed at last, as the lean man happened to +look up and see the grinning face in the doorway of the bunkhouse. +“Guess saddles do git kind o’ slippery when you ain’t slung a leg over +one fer a whiles. Say, best soap the knees o’ yer pants too, Arizona. +Mebbe y’ll sit tighter.”</p> + +<p>“Wal,” retorted Arizona, bending to his work again, “I do allow ther’s +more savee in that tip than most <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>gener’ly slobbers off’n your tongue. +I’ll kind o’ turn it over some.”</p> + +<p>Jacob’s grin broadened. “Guess I should. Your plug ain’t been saddled +sence you wus sent sick. Soft soap ain’t gener’ly in your line; makes +me laff to see you handlin’ it.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so,” observed the other, imperturbably. “I ’lows it has its +uses. ’Tain’t bad fer washin’. Guess you ain’t tried it any?”</p> + +<p>At that moment Raw Harris came across from the barn. He lounged over +to an upturned box and sat down.</p> + +<p>“Any o’ you fellers seen Joe Nelson along yet?” he asked as he +leisurely filled his pipe.</p> + +<p>“Five hours overdue,” said Tresler, who was cleaning out the chambers +of his revolver.</p> + +<p>“Joe ain’t likely to git back this night,” observed Arizona. “He’s a +terror when he gits alongside a saloon. Guess he’s drank out one ranch +of his own down Texas way. He’s the all-firedest bag o’ tricks I’ve +ever see. Soft as a babby is Joe. Honest? Wal, I’d smile. Joe’s that +honest he’d give up his socks ef the old sheep came along an’ claimed +the wool. Him an’ me’s worked together ’fore. He’s gittin’ kind o’ +old, an’ ain’t as handy as he used to be. Say, he never told you ’bout +that temperator feller, Tresler, did he?”</p> + +<p>Tresler shook his head, and paused in his work to relight his pipe.</p> + +<p>“It kind o’ minds me to tell you sence we’re talkin’ o’ Joe. It likely +shows my meanin’ when I sez he’s that soft an’ honest, an’ yet crazy +fer drink. You see, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>it wus this a-ways. I wus kind o’ foreman o’ the +‘U bar U’s’ in Canada, an’ Joe wus punchin’ cows then. The boys wus +sheer grit; good hands, mind you, but sudden-like.”</p> + +<p>Arizona ceased plastering the soap on his saddle and stood erect. His +gaunt figure looked leaner than ever, but his face was alight with +interest in the story he was about to narrate, and his great wild eyes +were shining with a look that suggested a sort of fierce amusement. +Teddy Jinks lounged into view and stood propped against an angle of +the building.</p> + +<p>“Git on,” said Lew, between the puffs at his pipe.</p> + +<p>Arizona shot a quick, disdainful glance at the powerful figure of the +parson’s progeny, and went on in his own peculiar fashion fashion—</p> + +<p>“Wal, it so happened that the records o’ the ‘U bar U’s’ kind o’ got +noised abroad some, as they say in the gospel. Them coyotes as +reckoned they wus smart ’lowed as even the cattle found a shortage o’ +liquid by reason of an onnatural thirst on that ranch. Howsum, mebbe +ther’ wus reason. Old Joe, he wus the daddy o’ the lot. Jim Marlin +used to say as Joe most gener’ly used a black lead when he writ his +letters; didn’t fancy wastin’ ink. Mebbe that’s kind o’ zaggerated, +but I guess he wus the next thing to a fact’ry o’ blottin’ paper, +sure.</p> + +<p>“Wal, I reckon some bald-faced galoot got yappin’, leastways there wus +a temperance outfit come right along an’ lay hold o’ the boss. Say, +flannel-mouthed orators! I guess that feller could roll out more juicy +notions on the subject o’ drink in five minutes than a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>high-pressure +locomotive could blow off steam through a five-inch leak in ha’f a +year. He wus an eddication in langwidge, sir, sech as ’ud per-suade a +wall-eyed mule to do what he didn’t want, and wa’n’t goin’ to do +anyways.</p> + +<p>“I corralled the boys up in the yard, an’ the feller got good an’ +goin’. He spotted Joe right off; fixed him wi’ his eye an’ focussed +him dead centre, an’ talked right at him. An’ Joe wus iled—that iled +he couldn’t keep a straight trail fer slippin’. Say, speakin’ +metaphoric, that feller got the drop on pore Joe. He give him a dose +o’ syllables in the pit o’ the stummick that made him curl, then he +follered it right up wi’ a couple o’ slugs o’ his choicest, ’fore he +could straighten up. Then he sort o’ picked him up an’ shook him with +a power o’ langwidge, an’ sot him down like a spanked kid. Then he +clouted him over both lugs with a shower o’ words wi’ capitals, +clumped him over the head wi’ a bunch o’ texts, an’ thrashed him wi’ a +fact’ry o’ trac’ papers. Say, I guess pore Joe wouldn’t ’a’ rec’nized +the flavor o’ whisky from blue pizen when that feller had done; an’ we +jest looked on, feelin’ ’bout as happy as a lot o’ old hens worritin’ +to hatch out a batch o’ Easter eggs. Say, pore Joe wus weepin’ over +his sins, an’ I guess we wus all ’most ready to cry. Then the feller +up an’ sez, ‘Fetch out the pernicious sperrit, the nectar o’ the +devil, the waters o’ the Styx, the vile filth as robs homes o’ their +support, an’ drives whole races to perdition!’ an’ a lot o’ other big +talk. An’, say, we fetched! Yes, sir, we fetched like a lot o’ silly, +skippin’ lambs. We brought out six bottles o’ <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>the worstest rotgut +ever faked in a settlement saloon, an’ handed it over. After that I +guess we wus feelin’ better. Sez we, feelin’ kind o’ mumsy over the +whole racket, it ain’t right, we sez, to harbor no sperrit-soaked, +liver-pickled tag of a decent citizen’s life around this layout; an’ +so we took Joe Nelson to the river and diluted him. After that I ’lows +we lay low. I did hear as some o’ the boys said their prayers that +night, which goes to show as they wus feelin’ kind o’ thin an’ mean. +Ther’ wa’n’t a feller ther’ but wus dead swore off fer a week.</p> + +<p>“Guess it wus most the middle o’ the night when Jim Yard comes to my +shack an’ fetched me out. He told me there wus a racket goin’ on in +the settlement. That temperator wus down ther’ blazin’ drunk an’ +shootin’ up the town. Say, I felt kind o’ hot at that. Yup, pretty +sulphury an’ hot, an’ I went right out, quiet like, and fetched the +boys. Them as had said their prayers wus the first to join me. Wal, we +went along an’ did things with that.—Ah, guess Jake’s comin’ this +way; likely he wants somethin’.”</p> + +<p>Arizona turned abruptly to his saddle again, while all eyes looked +over at the approaching foreman. Jake strode up. Arizona took no +notice of him. It was his way of showing his dislike for the man. Jake +permitted one glance—nor was it a friendly one—in his direction, +then he went straight over to where Tresler was sitting.</p> + +<p>“Get that mare of yours saddled, Tresler,” he said, “and ride into +Forks. You’ll fetch out that skulkin’ coyote, Joe Nelson. You’ll fetch +him out, savee? <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>Maybe he’s at the saloon—sure he’s drunk, anyway. +An’ if he ain’t handed over that letter to the sheriff, you’ll see to +it. Say, you’d best shake him up some; don’t be too easy.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll bring him out,” replied Tresler, quietly.</p> + +<p>“Hah, kind o’ squeamish,” sneered Jake.</p> + +<p>“No. I’m not knocking drunken men about. That’s all.”</p> + +<p>“Wal, go and bring him out,” snarled the giant. “I’ll see to the +rest.”</p> + +<p>Tresler went off to the barn without another word. His going was +almost precipitate, but not from any fear of Jake. It was himself he +feared. This merciless brute drove him to distraction every time he +came into contact with him, and the only way he found it possible to +keep the peace with him at all was by avoiding him, by getting out of +his way, by shutting him out of mind, whenever it was possible.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes he had set out. His uneasy mare was still only half +tamed, and very fresh. She left the yards peaceably enough, but jibbed +at the river ford. The inevitable thrashing followed, Tresler knowing +far too much by now to spare her. Just for one moment she seemed +inclined to submit and behave herself, and take to the water kindly. +Then her native cussedness asserted itself; she shook her head +angrily, and caught the bar of the spade-bit in her great, strong +teeth, swung round, and, stretching her long ewe neck, headed south +across country as hard as she could lay heels to the ground.</p> + +<p>Tresler fought her every foot of the way, but it was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>useless. The +devil possessed her, and she worked her will on him. By the time he +should have reached Forks he was ten miles in the opposite direction.</p> + +<p>However, he was not the man to take such a display too kindly, and, +having at length regained control, he turned her back and pressed her +to make up time. And it made him smile, as he rode, to feel the swing +of the creature’s powerful strides under him. He could not punish her +by asking for pace, and he knew it. She seemed to revel in a rapid +journey, and the extra run taken on her own account only seemed to +have warmed her up to even greater efforts.</p> + +<p>It was nearly ten o’clock when he drew near Forks; and the moon had +only just risen. The mare was docile enough now, and raced along with +her ears pricked and her whole fiery disposition alert.</p> + +<p>The trail approached Forks from the west. That is to say, it took a +big bend and entered on the western side. Already Tresler could see +the houses beyond the trees silhouetted in the moonlight, but the +nearer approach was bathed in shadow. The trail came down from a +rising ground, cutting its way through the bush, and, passing the +lights of the saloon, went on to the market-place.</p> + +<p>He checked the mare’s impetuosity as he came down the slope. She was +too valuable for him to risk her legs. With all her vices, he knew +there was not a horse on the ranch that could stand beside the Lady +Jezebel on the trail.</p> + +<p>She propped jerkily as she descended the hill. Every little rustle of +the lank grass startled her, and gave her <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>excuse for frivolity. Her +rider was forced to keep a watchful eye and a close seat. A shadowy +kit fox worried her with its stealthy movements. It kept pace with her +in its silent, ghostly way, now invisible in the long grass, now in +full view beside the trail; but always abreast.</p> + +<p>Half-way down the trail both horse and rider were startled seriously. +A riderless horse, saddled and bridled, dashed out of the darkness and +galloped across them. Of her own accord Lady Jezebel swung round, and, +before Tresler could check her, had set off in hot pursuit. For once +horse and rider were of the same mind, and Tresler bent low in the +saddle, ready to grab at the bridle when his mare should overhaul the +stranger.</p> + +<p>In less than a minute they were abreast of their quarry. The +stranger’s reins were hanging broken from the bit, and Tresler grabbed +at them. Nor could he help a quiet laugh, when, on pulling up, he +recognized the buckskin pony and quaint old stock saddle of Joe +Nelson. And he at once became alive to the necessity of his journey. +What, he wondered, had happened to the little choreman?</p> + +<p>Leading the captive, he rode back to the trail and pushed on toward +the village. But his adventures were not over yet. At the bottom of +the hill the mare, brought up to a stand, reared and shied violently. +Then she stood trembling like an aspen, seizing every opportunity to +edge from the trail, and all the while staring with wild, dilated eyes +away out toward the bush on the right front. Her rider followed the +direction of her <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>gaze to ascertain the cause of the trouble. For some +minutes he could distinguish nothing unusual in the darkness. The moon +had not as yet attained much power, and gave him very little +assistance; but, realizing the wonderful acuteness of a horse’s +vision, he decided that there nevertheless was something to be +investigated. So he dismounted, and adopting the common prairie method +of scanning the sky-line, he dropped to the ground.</p> + +<p>For some time his search was quite vain, and only the mare’s nervous +state encouraged him. Then at length, low down in the deep shadow of +the bush, something caught and held his attention. Something was +moving down there.</p> + +<p>He lay quite still, watching intently. Something of the mare’s nervous +excitement gripped him. The movement was ghostly. It was only a +movement. There was nothing distinct to be seen, nothing tangible; +just a weird, nameless something. A dozen times he asked himself what +it was. But the darkness always baffled him, and he could find no +answer. He had an impression of great flapping wings—such wings as +might belong to a giant bat. The movement was sufficiently regular to +suggest this, but the idea carried no conviction. There, however, his +conjectures ended.</p> + +<p>At last he sprang up with a sharp ejaculation, and his hand went to +his revolver. The thing, or creature, whatever it was, was coming +slowly but steadily toward him. Had he not been sure of this, the +attitude of the horses would have settled the question for him. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>Lady +Jezebel pulled back in the throes of a wild fear, and the buckskin +plunged madly to get free.</p> + +<p>He had hardly persuaded them to a temporary calmness, when a mournful +cry, rising in a wailing crescendo, split the air and died away +abruptly. And he knew that it came from the advancing “movement.”</p> + +<p>And now it left the shadow and drew out into the moonlight. And the +man watching beheld a dark heap distinctly outlined midway toward the +bush. The wings seemed to have folded themselves, or, at least, to +have lowered, and were trailing on the ground in the creature’s wake. +Presently the whole thing ceased to move, and sat still like a great +loathsome toad—a silent, uncanny heap amidst the lank prairie grass. +And somehow he felt glad that it was no longer approaching.</p> + +<p>The moments crept by, and the position remained unchanged. Then +slowly, with an air of settled purpose, the creature raised itself on +its hind legs, and, swaying and shuffling, continued its advance. In +an instant Tresler’s revolver leapt from its holster, and he was ready +to defend himself. The attitude was familiar to him. He had read +stories of the bears in the Rockies, and they came home to him now as +he saw his adversary rear itself to its full height. His puzzlement +was over; he understood now. He was dealing with a large specimen of +the Rocky Mountain grizzly.</p> + +<p>Yes, there could be no mistaking the swaying gait, the curious, +snorting breathing, the sadly lolling head and slow movements. He +remembered each detail with an exactness which astonished him, and was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>thrilled with the bristling sensation which assails every hunter when +face to face with big game for the first time in his life.</p> + +<p>He raised his gun, and took a long, steady aim, measuring the distance +with deliberation, and selecting the animal’s breast for his shot. +Then, just as he was about to fire, the brute’s head turned and caught +the cold, sharp moonlight full upon its face. There was a momentary +flash of white, and Tresler’s gun was lowered as though it had been +struck down.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>JOE NELSON INDULGES IN A LITTLE MATCH-MAKING</h3> + +<p>The moonlight had revealed the grotesque features of Joe Nelson!</p> + +<p>Tresler returned his gun to its holster precipitately, and his action +had in it all the chagrin of a man who has been “had” by a practical +joker. His discomfiture, however, quickly gave way before the humor of +the situation, and he burst into a roar of laughter.</p> + +<p>He laughed while he watched his bear drop again to his hands and +knees, and continue to crawl toward him, till the tears rolled down +his cheeks. On came the little fellow, enveloped in the full embracing +folds of a large brown blanket, and his silent dogged progress warned +Tresler that, as yet, his own presence was either unrealized or +ignored in the earnestness of his unswerving purpose. And the nature +of that purpose—for Tresler had fully realized it—was the most +laughable thing of all. Joe was stalking his buckskin pony with the +senseless cunning of a drunken man.</p> + +<p>At last the absurdity of the position became too much, and he hailed +the little choreman in the midst of his laughter.</p> + +<p>“Ho! You, Joe!” he called. “What the blazes d’you think you’re doing?”</p> + +<p>There was no reply. For all heed the man under <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>the blanket gave, he +might have been deaf, dumb and blind. He just came steadily on.</p> + +<p>Tresler shouted again, and more sharply. This time his summons had its +effect. It brought an answer—an answer that set him off into a fresh +burst of laughter.</p> + +<p>“Gorl darn it, boys,” came a peevish voice, from amidst the blanket, +“’tain’t smart, neither, playin’ around when a feller’s kind o’ +roundin’ up his plug. How’m I goin’ to cut that all-fired buckskin out +o’ the bunch wi’ you gawkin’ around like a reg’ment o’ hoboes? Ef you +don’t reckon to fool any, why, some o’ you git around an’ head him off +from the rest of ’em. I’d do it myself on’y my cussed legs has given +out.”</p> + +<p>“Boys, eh?” Tresler was still laughing, but he checked his mirth +sufficiently to answer, “Why, man, it’s the whisky that’s fooling you. +There are no ‘boys,’ and no ‘bunch’ of horses here. Just your horse +and mine; and I’ve got them both safe enough. You’re drunk, +Joe—beastly drunk.”</p> + +<p>Joe suddenly struggled to his feet and stood swaying uncertainly, but +trying hard to steady himself. He focussed his eyes with much effort +upon the tall figure before him, and then suddenly moved forward like +a man crossing a brook on a single, narrow, and dangerously swaying +plank. He all but pitched headlong into the waiting man as he reached +him, and would undoubtedly have fallen to the ground but for the aid +of a friendly hand thrust out to catch him. And while Tresler turned +to pacify the two thoroughly frightened horses, the little man’s angry +tones snapped out at him <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>in what was intended for a dignified +protest. In spite of his drunken condition, his words were distinct +enough, though his voice was thick. After all, as he said, it was his +legs that had given way.</p> + +<p>“Guess you’re that blazin’ ‘tenderfoot’ Tresler,” he said, with all +the sarcasm he was capable of at the moment. “Wal, say, Mr. a’mighty +Tresler, ef it wa’n’t as you wus a ‘tenderfoot,’ I’d shoot you fer +sayin’ I wus drunk. Savee? You bein’ a ‘tenderfoot,’ I’ll jest mention +you’re side-tracked, you’re most on the scrap heap, you’ve left the +sheer trail an’ you’re ditched. You’ve hit a gait you can’t travel, +an’ don’t amount to a decent, full-sized jackass. Savee? I ain’t +drunk. It’s drink; see? Carney’s rotgut. I tell you right here I’m +sober, but my legs ain’t. Mebbe you’re that fool-headed you don’t +savee the difference.”</p> + +<p>Tresler restrained a further inclination to laugh. He had wasted too +much time already, and was anxious to get back to the ranch. He quite +realized that Joe knew what he was about, if his legs were +<i>hors-de-combat</i>, for, after delivering himself of this, his +unvarnished opinion, he wisely sought the safer vantage-ground of a +sitting posture.</p> + +<p>Tresler grabbed at the blanket and pulled it off his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“What’s this?” he asked sharply.</p> + +<p>Joe looked up, his little eyes sparkling with resentment.</p> + +<p>“’Tain’t yours, anyway,” he said. Then he added with less anger, and +some uncertainty, “Guess I slept some down at the bushes. Durned plug +got busy <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>’stead o’ waitin’ around. The fool hoss ain’t got no manners +anyways.”</p> + +<p>“Manners? Don’t blither.” Tresler seized him by the coat collar and +yanked him suddenly upon his feet. “Now, hand over that letter to +Sheriff Fyles. I’ve orders to deliver it myself.”</p> + +<p>Joe’s twisted face turned upward with a comical expression of +perplexity. The moonlight caught his eyes, and he blinked. Then he +looked over at the horses, and, shaking his head solemnly, began to +fumble at his pockets.</p> + +<p>“S-Sheriff F-Fyles,” he answered doubtfully. He seemed to have +forgotten the very name. “F-Fyles?” he repeated again. “Letter? Say, +now, I wus kind o’ wonderin’ what I cum to Forks fer. Y’ see I mostly +git around Forks fer Carney’s rotgut. Course, ther’ wus a letter. Jest +wher’ did I put that now?” He became quite cheerful as he probed his +pockets.</p> + +<p>Tresler waited until, swaying and even stumbling in the process, he +had turned out two pockets; then his impatience getting the better of +him, he proceeded to conduct the search himself.</p> + +<p>“Now see here,” he said firmly, “I’ll go through your pockets. If +you’ve lost it, there’ll be trouble for you when you get back. If +you’d only kept clear of that saloon you would have been all right.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so,” said Joe humbly, as he submitted to the other’s search.</p> + +<p>Tresler proceeded systematically. There was nothing but tobacco and +pipe in the outside pockets of his coat. His trousers revealed a +ten-cent piece and a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>dollar bill, which the choreman thanked him +profusely for finding, assuring him, regretfully, that he wouldn’t +have left the saloon if he had known he had it. The inside pocket of +the coat was drawn blank of all but a piece of newspaper, and Tresler +pronounced his verdict in no measured terms.</p> + +<p>“You drunken little fool, you’ve lost it,” he said, as he held out the +unfolded newspaper.</p> + +<p>Joe seemed past resentment with his fresh trouble. He squinted hard to +get the newspaper into proper focus.</p> + +<p>“Say,” he observed meekly, “I guess it wus in that, sure. Sure, yes,” +he nodded emphatically, “I planted it that a-ways to kep it from the +dirt. I ’member readin’ the headin’ o’ that paper. Et wus ’bout some +high-soundin’ female in New Yo——”</p> + +<p>“Confound it!” Tresler was more distressed for the little man than +angry with him. He knew Jake would be furious, and cast about in his +mind for excuses that might save him. The only one he could think of +was feeble enough, but he suggested it.</p> + +<p>“Well, there’s only one thing to do; we must ride back, and you can +say you lost the letter on the way out, and have spent the day looking +for it.”</p> + +<p>Joe seemed utterly dejected. “Sure, yes. There’s on’y one thing to +do,” he murmured disconsolately. “We must ride back. Say, you’re sure, +plumb sure it ain’t in one of my pockets? Dead sure I must ’a’ lost +it?”</p> + +<p>“No doubt of it. Damn it, Joe, I’m sorry. You’ll be in a deuce of a +scrape with Jake. It’s all that cursed drink.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p><p>“That’s so,” murmured the culprit mournfully. His face was turned +away. Now it suddenly brightened as though a fresh and more hopeful +view of the matter had presented itself, and his twisted features +slowly wreathed themselves into a smile. His deep-set eyes twinkled +with an odd sort of mischievous humor as he raised them abruptly to +the troubled face of his companion.</p> + +<p>“Guess I kind o’ forgot to tell you. I gave the sheriff that letter +this mornin’ ’fore I called on Carney. Mebbe, ef I’d told you ’fore +I’d ’a’ saved you——”</p> + +<p>“You little——”</p> + +<p>Tresler could find no words to express his exasperation. He made a +grab at the now grinning man’s coat collar, seized him, and, lifting +him bodily, literally threw him on to the back of his buckskin pony.</p> + +<p>“You little old devil!” he at last burst out; “you stay there, and +back you go to the ranch. I’ll shake the liquor out of you before we +get home.”</p> + +<p>Tresler sprang into his saddle, and, turning his mare’s head homeward, +led the buckskin and its drunken freight at a rattling pace. And Joe +kept silence for a while. He felt it was best so. But, in the end, he +was the first to speak, and when he did so there was a quiet dryness +in his tone that pointed all he said.</p> + +<p>“Say, Tresler, I’m kind o’ sorry you wus put to all that figgerin’ an’ +argyment,” he said, shaking up his old pony to bring him alongside the +speedy mare. “Y’ see ye never ast me ’bout that letter. Kind o’ jumped +me fer a fool-head at oncet. Which is most gener’ly the nature o’ boys +o’ your years. Conclusions is mostly hasty, but I ’lows they’re +reas’nable in their <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>places—which is last. An’ I sez it wi’out +offense, ther’ ain’t a blazin’ thing born in this world that don’t +reckon to con-clude fer itself ’fore it’s rightly begun. Everything +needs teachin’, from a ‘tenderfoot’ to a New York babby.”</p> + +<p>Joe’s homily banished the last shadow of Tresler’s ill-humor. The +little man had had the best of him in his quiet, half-drunken manner; +a manner which, though rough, was still irresistible.</p> + +<p>“That’s all right, Joe. I’m no match for you,” he said with a laugh. +“But, setting jokes on one side, I think you’re in for trouble with +Jake. I saw it in his eye before I started out.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think. Guess I’m plumb sure,” Joe replied quietly.</p> + +<p>“Then why on earth did you do it?”</p> + +<p>Joe humped his back with a movement expressive of unconcern.</p> + +<p>“It don’t matter why. Jake’s nigh killed me ha’f a dozen times. One o’ +these days he’ll fix me sure. He’ll lace hell out o’ me to-morrow, I’m +guessin’, an’ when it’s done it won’t alter nothin’ anyways. I’ve jest +two things in this world, I notion, an’—one of ’em’s drink. ’Tain’t +no use in sayin’ it ain’t, ’cos I guess my legs is most unnateral +truthful ’bout drink. Say, I don’t worrit no folk when I’m drunk; +guess I don’t interfere wi’ no one’s consarns when I’m drunk; I’m jest +kind o’ happy when I’m drunk. Which bein’ so, makes it no one’s +bizness but my own. I do it ’cos I gits a heap o’ pleasure out o’ it. +I know I ain’t worth hell room. But I got my notions, an’ I ain’t +goin’ ter budge <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>fer no one.” Joe’s slantwise mouth was set +obstinately; his little eyes flashed angrily in the moonlight, and his +whole attitude was one of a man combating an argument which his soul +is set against.</p> + +<p>As Tresler had no idea of arguing the question and remained silent, +the choreman went on in a modified tone of morbid self-sympathy +sympathy—</p> + +<p>“When the time comes around I’ll hand over my checks wi’out no fuss +nor botheration; guess I’ll cash in wi’ as much grit as George +Washington. I don’t calc’late as life is wuth worritin’ over anyways. +We don’t ast to be born, an’, comin’ into the world wi’out no +by-your-leave, I don’t figger as folks has a right to say we’ve got to +take a hand in any bluff we don’t notion.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you’ve a certain amount of right on your side.” Tresler felt +that this hopeless pessimism was rather the result of drink than +natural to him. “But you said you had two things that you considered +worth living for?”</p> + +<p>“That’s so. I ain’t goin’ back on what I said. It’s jest that other +what set me yarnin’. Say, guess you’re mostly a pretty decent feller, +Tresler, though I ’lows you has failin’s. You’re kind o’ young. Now I +guess you ain’t never pumped lead into the other feller, which the +same he’s doin’ satisfact’ry by you? You kind o’ like most fellers?”</p> + +<p>Tresler nodded.</p> + +<p>“Jest so. But I’ve noticed you don’t fancy folks as gits gay wi’ you. +You kind o’ make things uneasy. Wal, that’s a fault you’ll git over. +Mebbe, later on, when a feller gits rilin’ you you’ll work your gun, +instead <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>of trying to thump savee into his head. Heads is mighty +cur’us out west here. They’re so chock full o’ savee, ther’ ain’t no +use in thumpin’ more into ’em. Et’s a heap easier to let it out. But +that’s on the side. I most gener’ly see things, an’ kind o’ notice +fellers, an’ that’s how I sized you up. Y’ see I’ve done a heap o’ +settin’ around M’skeeter Bend fer nigh on ten years, mostly watchin’. +Now, mebbe, y’ ain’t never sot no plant, an’ bedded it gentle wi’ +sifted mould, an’ watered it careful, an’ sot right ther’ on a box, +an’ watched it grow in a spot wher’ ther’ wa’n’t no bizness fer +anythin’ but weeds?”</p> + +<p>Tresler shook his head, wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“No; guess not,” Joe went on. “Say,” he added, turning and looking +earnestly into his companion’s face, “I’m settin’ on that box right +now. Yes, sir, I’ve watched that plant grow. I’ve picked the stones +out so the young shoots could git through nice an’ easy-like. I’ve +watered it. I’ve washened the leaves when the blights come along. I’ve +sticked it against the winds. I’ve done most everythin’ I could, usin’ +soap-suds and soot waters, an’ all them tasty liquids to coax it on. +I’ve sot ther’ a-smilin’ to see the lovesome buds come along an’ open +out, an’ make the air sweet wi’ perfumes an’ color an’ things. I’ve +sot right ther’ an’ tho’t an’ tho’t a heap o’ tho’ts around that +flower, an’ felt all crinkly up the back wi’ pleasure. An’ I ain’t +never wanted ter leave that box. No, sir, an’ the days wus bright, an’ +nothin’ seemed amiss wi’ life nor nothin’. But I tell you it ain’t no +good. No, sir, ’tain’t no good, ’cos I ain’t got the guts to git up +an’ dig hard. I’ve <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>reached out an’ pulled a weed or two, but them +weeds had got a holt on that bed ’fore I sot the seedlin’, an’ they’ve +growed till my pore flower is nigh to be choked. ’Tain’t no use +watchin’ when weeds is growin’. It wants a feller as can dig; an’ I +guess I ain’t that feller. Say, ther’s mighty hard diggin’ to be done +right now, an’ the feller as does it has got to do it standin’ right +up to the job. Savee? I’m sayin’ right now to you, Tresler, them weeds +is chokin’ the life out o’ her. She’s mazed up wi’ ’em. Ther’ ain’t no +escape. None. Her life’s bound to be hell anyways.”</p> + +<p>“Her? Whom?” Tresler asked the question, but he knew that Joe was +referring to Diane; Diane’s welfare was his other interest in life.</p> + +<p>The little man turned with a start “Eh? Miss Dianny—o’ course.”</p> + +<p>“And the weeds?”</p> + +<p>“Jake—an’ her father.”</p> + +<p>And the two men became silent, while their horses ambled leisurely on +toward home. It was Tresler who broke the silence at last.</p> + +<p>“And this is the reason you’ve stayed so long on the ranch?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Mebbe. I don’t reckon as I could ’a’ done much,” Joe answered +hopelessly. “What could a drunken choreman do anyways? Leastways the +pore kid hadn’t got no mother, an’ I guess ther’ wa’n’t a blazin’ soul +around as she could yarn her troubles to. When she got fixed, I guess +ther’ wa’n’t no one to put her right. And when things was hatchin’, +ther’ wa’n’t no one to give her warnin’ but me. ‘What is the trouble?’ +you <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>ast,” the little man went on gloomily. “Trouble? Wal, I’d smile. +Ther’ ain’t nothin’ but trouble around M’skeeter Bend, sure. Trouble +for her—trouble all round. Her trouble’s her father, an’ Jake. Jake’s +set on marryin’ her. Jake,” in a tone of withering scorn, “who’s only +fit to mate wi’ a bitch wolf. An’ her father—say, he hates her. Hates +her like a neche hates a rattler. An’ fer why? Gawd only knows; I +ain’t never found out. Say, that gal is his slave, sure. Ef she raises +her voice, she gits it. Not, I guess, as Jake handles me, but wi’ the +sneakin’ way of a devil. Say, the things he does makes me most ready +to cry like a kid. An’ all the time he threatens her wi’ Jake fer a +husband. An’ she don’t never complain. Not she; no sir. You don’t know +the blind hulks, Tresler; but ther’, it ain’t no use in gassin’. He +don’t never mean her fer Jake, an’ I guess she knows it. But she’s +plumb scared, anyways.”</p> + +<p>Tresler contemplated the speaker earnestly in the moonlight. He +marveled at the quaint outward form of the chivalrous spirit within. +He was trying to reconcile the antagonistic natures of which this +strange little bundle of humanity was made up. For ten years Joe had +put up with the bullying and physical brutality of Jake Harnach, so +that, in however small a way, he might help to make easy the rough +life-path of a lonely girl. And his motives were all unselfish. A +latent chivalry held him which no depths of drunkenness could drown. +He leant over and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>“Joe,” he said, “I want to shake hands with you and call you my +friend.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p><p>The choreman held back for a moment in some confusion. Then, as though +moved by sudden impulse, he gripped the hand so cordially offered.</p> + +<p>“But I ain’t done yet,” he said a moment later. He had no wish to +advertise his own good deeds. He was pleading for another. Some one +who could not plead for herself. His tone had assumed a roughness +hardly in keeping with the gentle, reflective manner in which he had +talked of his “flower.” “Tresler,” he went on, “y’re good stuff, but +y’ ain’t good ’nough to dust that gal’s boots, no—not by a sight. +Meanin’ no offense. But she needs the help o’ some one as’ll dig at +them weeds standin’. See? Which means you. I can’t tell you all I +know, I can’t tell you all I’ve seed. One o’ them things—I guess on’y +one—is that Jake’s goin’ to best blind hulks an’ force him into +givin’ him his daughter in marriage, and Gawd help that pore gal. But +I swar to Gawd ef I’m pollutin’ this airth on the day as sees Jake +worritin’ Miss Dianny, I’ll perf’rate him till y’ can’t tell his +dog-gone carkis from a parlor cinder-sifter.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me how I can help, and count me in to the limit,” said Tresler, +catching, in his eagerness, something of the other’s manner of +expression.</p> + +<p>It was evident by the way the choreman’s face lit up at his friend’s +words that he had hoped for such support, but feared that he should +not get it. Joe Nelson was distinctly worldly wise, but with a heart +of gold deep down beneath his wisdom. He had made no mistake in this +man whose sympathies he had succeeded in enlisting. He fully +understood that he was dealing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>with just a plain, honest man, +otherwise he would have kept silence.</p> + +<p>“Wal, I guess ther’ ain’t a deal to tell.” The little man looked +straight ahead toward the dark streak which marked the drop from the +prairie land to the bed of the Mosquito River. “Still, it’s li’ble to +come along right smart.”</p> + +<p>The man’s suggestion puzzled Tresler, but he waited. His own mind was +clear as to what he personally intended, but it seemed to him that Joe +was troubled with other thoughts besides the main object of his +discourse. And it was these very side issues that he was keen to +learn. However, whatever Joe thought, whatever confusion or perplexity +he might have been in, he suddenly returned to his main theme with +great warmth of feeling.</p> + +<p>“But when it comes, Tresler, you’ll stand by? You’ll plug hard fer +her, jest as ef it was you he was tryin’ to do up? You’ll stop him? +Say, you’ll jest round that gal up into your own corrals, an’ set your +own brand on her quick, eh? That’s what I’m askin’.”</p> + +<p>“I see. Marry her, eh?”</p> + +<p>“An’ why not?” asked Joe quickly. “She’s a heap too good fer you. +Ther’ ain’t a feller breathin’ amounts to a row o’ beans aside o’ her. +But it’s the on’y way to save her from Jake. You’ll do it. Yes, sure, +you’ll do it. I ken see it in your face.”</p> + +<p>The little fellow was leaning over, peering up into Tresler’s face +with anxious, almost fierce eyes. His emotion was intense, and at that +moment a refusal would have driven him to despair.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p><p>“You are too swift for me, Joe,” Tresler said quietly. But his tone +seemed to satisfy his companion, for the latter sat back in his saddle +with a sigh of relief. “It takes the consent of two people to make a +marriage. However,” he went on, with deep earnestness, “I’ll promise +you this, Miss Marbolt shall never marry Jake unless it is her own +wish to do so. And, furthermore, she shall never lack a friend, ready +to act on her behalf, while I am in the country.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve said it.”</p> + +<p>And the finality of Joe’s tone brought silence.</p> + +<p>In spite of the punishment he knew to be awaiting him, Joe was utterly +happy. It was as though a weight, which had been oppressing him for +years, had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. He would +cheerfully have ridden on to any terror ever conceived by the ruthless +Jake. Diane’s welfare—Diane’s happiness; it was the key-note of his +life. He had watched. He knew. Tresler was willing enough to marry +her, and she—he chuckled joyfully to himself.</p> + +<p>“Jake ain’t a dorg’s chance—a yaller dorg’s chance. When the +‘tenderfoot’ gits good an’ goin’ he’ll choke the life out o’ Master +Jake. Gee!”</p> + +<p>And Tresler, too, was busy with his thoughts. Joe’s suggestion had +brought him face to face with hard fact, and, moreover, in a measure, +he had pledged himself. Now he realized, after having listened to the +little man’s story, how much he had fallen in love with Diane. Joe, he +knew, loved her as a father might love his child, or a gardener his +flowers; but his was the old, old story that brought him a delight +such as he <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>felt no one else had ever experienced. Yes, he knew now he +loved Diane with all the strength of his powerful nature; and he knew, +too, that there could be little doubt but that he had fallen a victim +to the beautiful dark, sad face he had seen peering up at him from +beneath the straw sun-hat, at the moment of their first meeting. Would +he marry Diane? Ay—a thousand times ay—if she would have him. But +there it was that he had more doubts than Joe. Would she marry him? he +asked himself, and a chill damped the ardor of his thoughts.</p> + +<p>And so, as they rode on, he argued out the old arguments of the lover; +so he wrestled with all the old doubts and fears. So he became +absorbed in an ardent train of thought which shut out all the serious +issues which he felt, that, for his very love’s sake, he should have +probed deeply. So he rode on impervious to the keen, studious, +sidelong glances wise old, drunken old Joe favored him with; +impervious to all, save the flame of love this wild old ranchman had +fanned from a smouldering ember to a living fire; impervious to time +and distance, until the man at his side, now thoroughly sobered, +called his attention to their arrival at the ranch.</p> + +<p>“Say, boy,” he observed, “that’s the barn yonder. ’Fore we git ther’ +ther’s jest one thing more. Jake’s goin’ to play his hand by force. +Savee? Mebbe we’ve a notion o’ that force—Miss Dianny an’ me——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and we must think this thing thoroughly out, Joe. Developments +must be our cue. We can do nothing but wait and be ready. There’s the +sheriff——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p><p>“Eh? Sheriff?” Joe swung round, and was peering up into Tresler’s +face.</p> + +<p>“Ah, I forgot.” Tresler’s expression was very thoughtful. They had +arrived at the barn, and were dismounting. “I was following out my own +train of thought. I agree with you, Joe, Red Mask and his doings are +at the bottom of this business.” His voice had dropped now to a low +whisper lest any one should chance to be around.</p> + +<p>Without a word Joe led his horse into the barn, and, off-saddling him, +fixed him up for the night. Tresler did the same for his mare. Then +they came out together. At the door Joe paused.</p> + +<p>“Say,” he remarked simply, “I jest didn’t know you wus that smart.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t credit me with smartness. It’s—poor little girl.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” Joe’s face twisted into his apish grin. “Say, you’ll stick to +what you said?”</p> + +<p>“Every word of it.”</p> + +<p>“Good; the rest’s doin’ itself, sure.”</p> + +<p>And they went their several ways; Joe to the kitchen of the house, and +Tresler to his dusty mattress in the bunkhouse.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>TRESLER INVOLVES HIMSELF FURTHER;<br /> THE LADY JEZEBEL IN A FREAKISH MOOD</h3> + +<p>Enthusiasm is the mainspring of a cowboy’s life. Without enthusiasm a +cowboy inevitably falls to the inglorious level of a “hired man”; a +nice distinction in the social conditions of frontier life. The cowboy +is sometimes a good man—not meaning a man of religion—and often a +bad man. He is rarely indifferent. There are no half measures with +him. His pride is in his craft. He will lavish the tenderness of a +mother for her child upon his horse; he will play poker till he has +had the doubtful satisfaction of seeing his last cent pass into +somebody else’s pocket; he will drink on the most generous scale, and +is ever ready to quarrel. Even in this last he believes in +thoroughness. But he has many good points which often outweigh his +baser instincts. They can be left to the imagination; for it is best +to know the worst of him at the outset to get a proper, and not a +glorified estimate of his true character. The object of this story is +to give a veracious, and not a highly gilded picture of the hardy +prairie man of days gone by.</p> + +<p>Before all things the cowboy is a horseman. His pride in this almost +amounts to a craze. His fastidiousness in horse-flesh, in his +accoutrements, his boots, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>his chapps, his jaunty silk handkerchief +about his neck, even to the gauntlets he so often wears upon his +hands, is an education in dandyism. He is a thorough dandy in his +outfit. And the greater the dandy, the more surely is he a capable +horseman. He is not a horse-breaker by trade, but he loves +“broncho-busting” as a boy loves his recreation. It comes to him as a +relief from the tedium of branding, feeding, rounding up, cutting out, +mending fences, and all the utility work of the ranch. Every unbroken +colt is like a ticket in a lottery; it may be easy, or it may be a +tartar. And the tartar is the prize that every cowpuncher wants to +draw so that he may demonstrate his horsemanship.</p> + +<p>Broncho-busting was the order of the next day at Mosquito Bend, and +all hands were agog, and an element of general cheeriness pervaded the +bunkhouse whilst breakfast was in preparation. Marbolt had obtained a +contract to supply the troops with a large band of remounts, and the +terms demanded that each animal must be saddle-broken.</p> + +<p>Tresler, with the rest, was up betimes. He, too, was going to take his +part in the horse-breaking. While breakfast was in the course of +preparation he went out to overhaul his saddle. There must be no +doubtful straps in his gear. Each saddle would have a heavy part to +play, and his own, being one he had bought second-hand from one of his +comrades, needed looking to.</p> + +<p>He was very thoughtful as he went about his work. His overnight talk +with Joe Nelson had made him realize that he was no longer a +looker-on, a pupil, simply <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>one of the hands on the ranch. Hitherto he +had felt, in a measure, free in his actions. He could do as it pleased +him to do. He could have severed himself from the ranch, and washed +his hands of all that was doing there. Now it was different. Whether +he would or no he must play out his part. He had taken a certain +stand, and that stand involved him with responsibilities which he had +no wish to shirk.</p> + +<p>His saddle was in order, his mare had been rubbed down and fed, and he +was leisurely strolling over to the bunkhouse for breakfast. And as he +passed the foreman’s hut he heard Jake’s voice from within hailing him +with unwonted cheeriness.</p> + +<p>“Mornin’, Tresler,” he called out. “Late gettin’ in last night.”</p> + +<p>Tresler moved over and stood in the doorway. He was wary of the tone, +and answered coolly—</p> + +<p>“Yes; the mare bolted this side of the ford, and took me ten miles +south. When I got on the Forks trail I met Nelson on his way home.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, that mare’s the very devil. How are you doin’ with her now?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, so, so. She leads me a dance, but I’d rather have her than any +plug you’ve got on the ranch. She’s the finest thing I’ve ever put a +leg over.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, guess that’s so. The boss was always struck on her. I kind of +remember when she came. She wasn’t bred hereabouts. The old man bought +her from some half-breed outfit goin’ through the country three years +ago—that’s how he told me. Then we tried to break her. Say, you’ve +done well with her, boy.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p><p>Jake had been lacing up a pair of high field boots; they were massive +things with heavy, clumped soles, iron tips and heels. Now he +straightened up.</p> + +<p>“Did Nelson say why he was late?” he went on abruptly.</p> + +<p>“No. And I didn’t ask him.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, knew it, I s’pose. Drunk?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>Tresler felt that the lie was a justifiable one.</p> + +<p>“Then what the devil kept the little swine?”</p> + +<p>Jake’s brows suddenly lowered, and the savage tone was no less than +the coarse brutality of his words. The other’s coolness grew more +marked.</p> + +<p>“That was none of my concern. He’d delivered the letter, and it was +only left for me to hurry him home.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll swear he was loafin’ around the saloon all day. Say, I guess +I’ll see him later.”</p> + +<p>Tresler shrugged and turned away. He wanted to tell this man what he +thought of him. He felt positively murderous toward him. He had never +met anybody who could so rouse him. Sooner or later a crisis would +come, in spite of his reassurances to Diane, and then—Jake watched +him go. Then he turned again to the contemplation of his great boots, +and muttered to himself.</p> + +<p>“It won’t be for long—no, not for long. But not yet. Ther’s too much +hangin’ to it——” He broke off, and his fierce eyes looked after the +retreating man.</p> + +<p>The unconscious object of these attentions meanwhile reached the +bunkhouse. Breakfast was well on, and he had to take his pannikin and +plate round to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>Teddy’s cookhouse to get his food. “Slushy,” as the +cook was familiarly called, dipped him out a liberal measure of pork +and beans, and handed him half a loaf of new-made bread. Jinks was no +niggard, and Tresler was always welcome to all he needed.</p> + +<p>“Goin’ to ride?” the youth demanded, as he filled the pannikin with +tea.</p> + +<p>“Why, of course.” Tresler had almost forgotten the change of work that +had been set out for the day. His face brightened now as the cook +reminded him of it. “Wouldn’t miss it for a lot. That mare of mine has +given me a taste for that sort of thing.”</p> + +<p>“Taste!” Teddy exclaimed, with a scornful wave of his dipper. “Belly +full, I tho’t, mebbe.” He turned to his stove and shook the ashes +down. “Say,” he went on, over his shoulder, “guess I’m bakin’ hash in +mine. Ther’ ain’t so much glory, but ther’s a heap more comfort to +it.”</p> + +<p>Tresler passed out smiling at the youth’s ample philosophy. But the +smile died out almost on the instant. A half-smothered cry reached him +from somewhere in the direction of the barn. He stood for an instant +with his brows knitted.</p> + +<p>The next, and his movements became almost electrical.</p> + +<p>Now the man’s deliberate character flatly contradicted itself. There +was no pause for consideration, no thought for what was best to do. He +had heard that cry, and had recognized the voice. It was a cry that +summoned him, and wrung the depths of his heart. His breakfast was +pitched to the ground. And, as <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>though fate had ordained it, he beheld +a heavy rawhide quirt lying on the ground where he had halted. He +grabbed the cruel weapon up, and set off at a run in the direction +whence the cry had come.</p> + +<p>His feet were still encased in the soft moccasin slippers he usually +wore in exchange for his riding boots, and, as he ran, they gave out +no sound. It was a matter of fifty yards to the foreman’s hut, and he +sprinted this in even time, keeping the building between himself and a +direct view of the barn, in the region of which lay his destination. +And as he ran the set expression of his face boded ill for some one. +Jaws and mouth were clenched to a fierce rigidity that said far more +than any words could have done.</p> + +<p>He paused for one breathless instant at the hither side of the +foreman’s hut. It was because he heard Jake’s voice cursing on the +other side of it. Then he heard that which made his blood leap to his +brain. It was a stifled cry in Nelson’s now almost unrecognizable +voice. And its piteous appeal aroused in him a blind fury.</p> + +<p>He charged round the building in half a dozen strides. One glance at +the scene was sufficient. Poor old Joe Nelson was lying on the ground, +his arms thrown out to protect his head, while Jake, his face ablaze, +stood over him, kicking him with his cruel field boots, with a force +and brutishness that promised to break every bone in the old man’s +body.</p> + +<p>It all came to him in a flash.</p> + +<p>Then he leapt with a rush at the author of the unnatural scene. The +butt of his quirt was uplifted. It swung above his head a full +half-circle, then it descended <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>with that whistling split of the air +that told of the rage and force that impelled it. It took the giant +square across the face, laying the flesh open and sending the blood +spurting with its vicious impact. It sent him reeling backward with a +howl of pain, like a child at the slash of an admonishing cane. And +Jake’s hands went up to his wounds at once; but, even so, his +movements were not swift enough to protect him from a second slash of +the vengeful thong. And Tresler’s aim was so swift and sure that the +bully fell to the ground like a pole-axed steer.</p> + +<p>And with Jake’s fall the tension of Tresler’s rage relaxed. He could +have carried the chastisement further with a certain wild delight, but +he was no savage, only a real, human man, outraged and infuriated by +the savagery of another. His one thought was for his poor old friend, +and he dropped on his knees, and bent over the still, shrunken form in +a painful anxiety. He called to him, and put one hand under the gray +old head and raised it up. And as he did so the poor fellow’s eyes +opened. Joe murmured something unintelligible, and Tresler was about +to speak again, when a movement behind him changed his purpose and +brought him to his feet with a leap.</p> + +<p>Nor was he any too soon. And his rage lit anew as he saw Jake +struggling to rise. In an instant he was standing over him +threateningly.</p> + +<p>“Move, and I’ll paralyze you!” he cried hoarsely.</p> + +<p>And Jake made no further effort. He lay back with a growl of impotent +rage, while his hands moved uneasily, mopping his blood-stained +features.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p><p>Now it was, for the first time, Tresler became aware that the men from +the bunkhouse had come upon the scene.</p> + +<p>The sight of all those faces gazing in wide-eyed astonishment at the +fallen Jake brought home to him something of the enormity of his +offense, and it behooved him to get Joe out of further harm’s way. He +stooped, and gathering the little choreman tenderly into his powerful +arms, lifted him on to his shoulders and strode away to the bunkhouse, +followed by his silent, wondering comrades.</p> + +<p>He deposited Joe upon his own bed, and the men crowded round. And +questions and answers came in a wild volley about him.</p> + +<p>It was Arizona who spoke least and rendered most assistance. Together +he and Tresler undressed the patient and treated him to a rough +surgical examination. They soon found that no limbs were broken, but +of his ribs they were less certain. He was severely bruised about the +head, and this latter no doubt accounted for his unconsciousness. Cold +water, harshly applied, though with kind intent, was the necessary +restorative, and after a while the twisted face took on a hue of life +and the eyes opened. Then Tresler turned to the men about him.</p> + +<p>“Boys,” he said gravely, “I want you all to remember that this is +purely my affair. Joe’s and mine—and Jake’s. I shall settle it in my +own way. For the present we have our work to do.”</p> + +<p>There was a low murmur, and Arizona raised a pair of fierce eyes to +his face. He was going to speak—to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>voice a common thought; but +Tresler understood and cut him short.</p> + +<p>“Go easy, Arizona. We’re good friends all. You wouldn’t like me to +interfere in a quarrel of yours.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so—but——”</p> + +<p>“Never mind the ‘buts.’” And Tresler’s keen, honest eyes looked +squarely into the seared face of the wild cowpuncher.</p> + +<p>For a moment the men stood around looking on with lowering faces, +eyeing the prostrate man furtively. But Tresler’s attitude gave them +no encouragement, and even Arizona felt the influence of his strong +personality. Suddenly, as though with a struggle, the cowboy swung +round on his fellows and his high-pitched tones filled the silent +room.</p> + +<p>“Come right on, boys. Guess he’s right. We’ll git.” And he moved +toward the door.</p> + +<p>And the men, after the slightest possible hesitation, passed out in +his wake. Tresler waited until the door had closed behind the last of +them, then he turned to the injured man.</p> + +<p>“Feeling better, Joe?”</p> + +<p>“Feelin’ better? Why, yes, I guess.”</p> + +<p>Joe’s answer came readily, but in a weak voice.</p> + +<p>“No bones broken?”</p> + +<p>“Bones? Don’t seem.”</p> + +<p>Tresler seated himself on the bunk and looked into the gray face. At +last he rose and prepared to go, but Joe detained him with a look.</p> + +<p>“Say—they’re gone?” he murmured.</p> + +<p>The other sat down again. “Yes.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p><p>“Good.” Joe sighed and reclosed his eyes; but it was only for a +second. He opened them again and went on. “Say, you won’t tell +her—Miss Dianny. Don’t you tell her. Pore little soul, she’ll wep +them pretty eyes o’ hers out, sure. Y’ see, I know her. Y’ see, I did +git drunk yesterday. I knew I’d git it. So it don’t signify. Don’t +tell her.”</p> + +<p>“She’ll be sure to hear of it.”</p> + +<p>“Say, Tresler,” Joe went on, ignoring the other’s objection. “Go easy; +jest say nothin’. Kind o’ fergit this thing fer the time. Ther’s other +work fer you. I’d a heap sooner I’d bin killed than you git roped into +this racket. It’s Miss Dianny you’re to look to, not me; an’ now, +mebbe, they’ll run you off’n the ranch.”</p> + +<p>Tresler shook his head decidedly. “Don’t be afraid; they can’t get rid +of me, Joe,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Ah! Wal, I guess meanwhile you’d best git off to work. I’ll pull +round after a while. You see, you must go dead easy wi’ Jake, ’cos o’ +her. Mind it’s her—on’y her. You sed it last night. Mebbe this +thing’s goin’ to make trouble. Trouble fer you; an’ trouble fer you +means trouble fer her.”</p> + +<p>“I’m going.”</p> + +<p>Tresler saw the force of the other’s argument. He must give them no +further hold to turn on him. Yes, he saw how bad his position would be +in the future. He wondered what would come of that morning’s work; +and, in spite of his confident assurance to Joe, he dreaded now lest +there should be any means for them to get rid of him. He moved toward +the door.</p> + +<p>“All right, Joe. I’ll keep a check on myself in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>future,” he said. +“But don’t you go and get drunk again or——”</p> + +<p>He broke off. Flinging the door open to pass out, he found himself +face to face with the object of their solicitude. Diane had been about +to knock, and now started back in confusion. She had not expected +this. She thought Tresler was with the “breaking” party. The man saw +her distress, and the anxiety in her sweet brown eyes. He knew that at +that moment all her thought was for Joe. It was the basket on her arm, +full of comforts, that told him. And he knew, too, that she must have +been a witness to the disgraceful scene by the barn, for how else +could she have learned so quickly what had happened? He put his finger +on his lip to silence her, while he closed the bunkhouse door behind +him. Then he responded to the inquiry he saw in her eager, troubled +face.</p> + +<p>“He is better, Miss Diane. He will soon be all right,” he added, +keeping his voice low lest it should reach the man inside. “Can I give +him anything for you? Any message?” He glanced significantly from her +face to the basket on her arm.</p> + +<p>The girl did not answer at once. Her eyes looked seriously up into his +face.</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” she said at last, a little vaguely. Then she broke out +eagerly, and Tresler understood the feeling that prompted her. “I saw +the finish of it all,” she went on; “oh, the dreadful finish. Thank +God I did not see the rest. When you bore him off on your shoulders I +thought he was dead. Then I felt I could not stay away. While I was +wondering how to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>get down here without attracting attention, Sheriff +Fyles arrived, and father and he went at once into the office. I knew +Jake would be out of the way. I waited until Anton had disappeared +with the sheriff’s horse, then I hurried down here. Can I see him now? +I have a few little luxuries here which I scrambled together for him.”</p> + +<p>The girl’s appeal was irresistible. Nor was Tresler the man to attempt +the impossible. Besides, she knew all, so there was nothing to hide +from her. He glanced over at the barn. The men had already saddled. He +saw Arizona leading two horses, and recognized Lady Jezebel as one of +them. The wild cowpuncher had saddled his mare for him, and the +friendliness of the act pleased him.</p> + +<p>“Yes, go in and see him,” he said. “The place hasn’t been cleaned up +yet, but perhaps you won’t mind that. You will come like an angel of +comfort to poor Joe. Poor old fellow! He thinks only of you. You are +his one care in life. It will be like a ray of sunshine in his clouded +life to be waited on by you. I need hardly give you the caution, +but—don’t stay long.”</p> + +<p>Diane nodded, and Tresler stepped aside. The girl’s hand was on the +door-latch; she hesitated a moment and finally faced about.</p> + +<p>“Fyles is here now,” she said significantly. “The raiders; do you +think you ought——”</p> + +<p>“I am going to see him.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.” The girl nodded. She would have said more, but her companion +cut her short.</p> + +<p>“I must go,” he said. Then he pointed over at the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>mare. “You see?” he +added. “She is in view of Jake’s window.”</p> + +<p>The next moment they had parted.</p> + +<p>The Lady Jezebel was very fretful when Tresler mounted her. She +treated him to a mild display of bad temper, and then danced +boisterously off down the trail, and her progress was as much made on +her hind legs as on all fours. Once round the bend her rider tried to +bring her to a halt, but no persuasion could reduce her to the +necessary docility. She fretted on until, exasperated, the man jabbed +her sharply with the spurs. Then the mischief started. Her head went +down and her back humped, and she settled to a battle royal.</p> + +<p>It was in the midst of this that another horseman rounded the bend and +rode leisurely on to the field of battle. He drew up and watched the +conflict with interest, his own great raw-boned bay taking quite as +enthusiastic an interest in what was going forward as its rider.</p> + +<p>The mare fought like a demon; but Tresler had learned too much for +her, and sat on his saddle as though glued to it; and the newcomer’s +interest became blended with admiration for the exhibition of +horsemanship he was witnessing. As suddenly as she had begun the lady +desisted. It was in a pause for breath that she raised her infuriated +head and espied the intruder. Doubtless, realizing the futility of her +efforts, and at the same time not wishing one of the opposite sex to +witness her defeat, she preferred to disguise her anger and gave the +impression of a quiet, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>frivolous gambol, for she whinnied softly and +stared, with ears pricked and head erect, in a haughty look of inquiry +at the more cumbersome figure of the bay.</p> + +<p>And her rider, too, had time to look around. His glance at once fell +upon the stranger, and he knew that it was the man he wanted to talk +to.</p> + +<p>The two men met with little formality.</p> + +<p>“Sheriff Fyles?” Tresler said as he came up.</p> + +<p>There was something wonderfully picturesque yet businesslike about +this prairie sleuth. This man was the first of his kind he had seen, +and he studied him with interest. The thought of Sheriff Fyles had +come so suddenly into his mind, and so recently, that he had no time +to form any imaginative picture of him. Had he done so he must +inevitably have been disappointed with the reality, for Fyles was +neither becoming nor even imposing. He was rather short and decidedly +burly, and his face had an innocent caste about it, a farmer-like +mould of russet-tanned features that was extremely healthy-looking, +but in no way remarkable for any appearance of great intelligence.</p> + +<p>But this was a case of the fallibility of appearances. Fyles was +remarkable both for great intelligence and extreme shrewdness. Not +only that, he was a man of cat-like activity. His bulk was the result +of a superabundance of muscle, and not of superfluous tissue. His +bucolic spread of features was useful to him in that it detracted from +the cold, keen, compelling eyes which looked out from beneath his +shaggy eyebrows; and, too, the full cheeks and fat neck, helping to +hide the determined jaws, which had a knack of closing his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>rather +full lips into a thin, straight line. Nature never intended a man of +his mould to occupy the position that Fyles held in his country’s +peace regime. He was one of her happy mistakes.</p> + +<p>And in that first survey Tresler realized something of the personality +which form and features were so ludicrously struggling to conceal.</p> + +<p>“Yes.” The officer let his eyes move slowly over this stranger. Then, +without the least expression of cordiality he spoke the thought in his +mind. “That’s a good nag—remarkably good. You handle her tolerably. +Didn’t get your name?”</p> + +<p>“Tresler—John Tresler.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. New hereabouts?”</p> + +<p>The broad-shouldered man had an aggravatingly official manner. Tresler +replied with a nod.</p> + +<p>“Ah! Remittance man?”</p> + +<p>At this the other laughed outright. He saw it was useless to display +any anger.</p> + +<p>“Wrong,” he said. “Learning the business of ranching. Going to start +on my own account later on.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! Younger son?”</p> + +<p>“Not even a younger son!” The two horses were now moving leisurely on +toward the ford. “Suppose we quit questions and answers that serve no +particular purpose, sheriff. I have been waiting to see you.”</p> + +<p>“So I figured,” observed the other, imperturbably, “or you wouldn’t +have answered my questions so amiably. Well?”</p> + +<p>The sheriff permitted himself a sort of wintry smile, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>while his +watchful eyes wandered interestedly over the surrounding bush.</p> + +<p>“There are things doing about this country,” Tresler began a little +lamely. “You’ve possibly heard?”</p> + +<p>“Things are generally doing in a cattle country where brands are +easily changed and there is no official to inquire who has changed +them.”</p> + +<p>Fyles glanced admiringly down at Lady Jezebel’s beautiful clean legs.</p> + +<p>“This Red Mask?” Tresler asked.</p> + +<p>“Exactly.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve heard the story of his latest escapade? The murder of Manson +Orr?”</p> + +<p>“From Mr. Marbolt—and others. In telling me, the blind man offered +five thousand dollars’ reward for the capture of the man.”</p> + +<p>“That’s better than I hoped for,” replied Tresler, musingly. “You +see,” he went on, “the blind man’s something cantankerous. He’s lost +cattle himself, but when some of the boys offered to hunt Red Mask +down, he treated them with scant courtesy—in fact, threatened to +discharge any man who left the ranch on that quest.”</p> + +<p>“I found him amiable.”</p> + +<p>“You would.” Tresler paused. This man was difficult to talk to, and he +wanted to say so much. Suddenly he turned and faced him, and, to his +chagrin, discovered that the other was still intent on the mare he was +riding. His eyes were fixed on the lady’s shoulder, where the +indistinct marks of the brand were still visible. “You see, sergeant,” +he went on, ignoring the other’s <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>abstraction, “I have a story to tell +you, which, in your official capacity, you may find interesting. In +the light of recent events, I, at any rate, find it interesting. It +has set me thinking a heap.”</p> + +<p>“Go ahead,” said the officer, without even so much as raising his +eyes. Tresler followed the direction of his gaze, but could see +nothing more interesting in his mare’s fore-quarters than their +perfect shape. However, there was no alternative but to proceed with +his narrative. And he told the sheriff of the visit of the +night-riders which he had witnessed on the night of his arrival at the +ranch. In spite of the other’s apparent abstraction, he told the story +carefully and faithfully, and his closing remarks were well pointed +and displayed a close analysis. He told him of the previous visits of +these night-riders, and the results following upon the circulation of +the story by each individual who chanced to witness them. He told of +Joe Nelson’s warning to him, and how his earnestness had, at length, +persuaded him to keep quiet. He felt no scruples in thus changing the +responsibility of Diane’s warning. Nothing would have induced him to +drag her name into the matter.</p> + +<p>“You see, sheriff,” he said in conclusion, “I think I did right to +keep this matter to myself until such time as I could tell it to you. +It has all happened several times before, and, therefore, will no +doubt happen again. What do you think?”</p> + +<p>“She’s the finest thing I’ve ever set two eyes on. There’s only one +like her—eh?” Tresler had given audible expression to his impatience, +and the other <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>abruptly withdrew his gaze from the mare. “It’s +interesting—decidedly.”</p> + +<p>“Did Marbolt tell you of the previous visits of these raiders? He +knows of them.”</p> + +<p>“He told me more than I had time to listen to.”</p> + +<p>“How?”</p> + +<p>“He told me of the revolutionary spirit pervading the ranch.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!”</p> + +<p>Tresler saw the trap the wily police officer had laid for him and +refused the bait. Evidently the blind man had told his version of that +morning’s doings, and the sheriff wished to learn the men’s side of +it. Probably his, Tresler’s. This calm, cold man seemed to depend in +no way upon verbal answers for the information he desired, for he went +on without any appearance of expecting a reply.</p> + +<p>“There’s one thing you’ve made plain to me. You suspect collusion +between these raiders and some one on the ranch.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I meant you to understand that.”</p> + +<p>“Whom do you suspect? And your reasons?”</p> + +<p>The two questions rapped out one after the other like lightning.</p> + +<p>“My suspicions rest nowhere, because I can find no reason.”</p> + +<p>They had drawn rein at the ford. Fyles now looked keenly into +Tresler’s face, and his glance was full of meaning.</p> + +<p>“I’m glad I’ve had this talk with you, Tresler. You have a keen +faculty for observation, and a wise caution. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>When you have reason to +suspect any one, and wish to tell me of it, you can communicate with +me at any hour of the day or night. I know this ranch well by repute. +So well, in fact, that I came out here to find you. You see, you also +were known to me—through mutual acquaintances in Forks. Now your +excellent caution will tell you that it would be bad policy for you to +communicate openly with me. Good. Your equally excellent observation +will have called your attention to this river. I have a posse +stationed further down stream, for certain reasons which I will keep +to myself. It is a hidden posse, but it will always be there. Now, to +a man of your natural cleverness, I do not think you will have any +difficulty in finding a means of floating a message down to me. But do +not send an urgent message unless the urgency is positive. Any message +I receive in that way I shall act upon at once. I have learned a great +deal to-day, Tresler, so much indeed that I even think you may +need to use this river before long. All I ask of you is to be +circumspect—that’s the word, circumspect.”</p> + +<p>The sheriff edged his horse away so that he could obtain a good view +of Lady Jezebel. And he gazed at her with so much intentness that +Tresler felt he must call attention to it.</p> + +<p>“She is a beauty,” he suggested.</p> + +<p>And Fyles answered with a sharp question. “Is she yours?”</p> + +<p>“No. Only to use.”</p> + +<p>“Belongs to the ranch?”</p> + +<p>“Jake told me she is a mare the blind man bought <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>from a half-breed +outfit passing through the country. He sets great store by her, but +they couldn’t tame her into reliability. That’s three years ago. By +her mouth I should say she was rising seven.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so. She’d be rising seven. She’s a dandy.”</p> + +<p>“You seem to know her.”</p> + +<p>But Fyles made no answer. He swung his horse round, and, raising his +hand in a half-military salute in token of “good-bye,” called over his +shoulder as his bay took to the water—</p> + +<p>“Don’t forget the river.”</p> + +<p>Tresler looked after him for some moments, then his mare suddenly +reared and plunged into the water to follow. He understood at once +that fresh trouble was brewing in her ill-balanced equine mind, and +took her sharply to task. She couldn’t buck in the water; and, +finally, after another prolonged battle, she dashed out of it and on +to the bank again. But in the scrimmage she had managed to get the +side-bar of the bit between her teeth, and, as she landed, she +stretched out her lean neck, and with a snort of ill-temper, set off +headlong down the trail.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>A WILD RIDE</h3> + +<p>The intractability of the Lady Jezebel was beyond all bounds. Her +vagaries were legion. After his experiences with her, Tresler might +have been forgiven the vanity of believing, in spite of her sex, that +he had fathomed her every mood. But she was forever springing +unpleasant surprises, and her present one was of a more alarming +nature than anything that had gone before. One of her tricks, bolting, +was not so very serious, but now she proved herself a “blind bolter.” +And among horsemen there is only one thing to do with a blind +bolter—shoot it. A horse of this description seems to be imbued with +but one idea—a furious desire to go, to run anywhere, to run into +anything lying in its course, to run on until its strength is spent, +or its career is suddenly terminated by a forcible full stop.</p> + +<p>At the bend of the trail the mare took blindly to the bush. Chance +guided her on to a cattle-path which cut through to the pinewoods +beyond. It was but a matter of moments before her rider saw the dark +shadow of the woodlands come at him with a rush, and he plunged +headlong into the gray twilight of their virgin depths. He had just +time to crouch down in the saddle, with his face buried in the tangle +of the creature’s flying mane, when the drooping boughs, laden with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>their sad foliage, swept his back. He knew there were only two +courses open to him. Either he must sit tight and chance his luck till +the mad frolic was spent, or throw himself headlong from the saddle at +the first likely spot. A more experienced horseman would, no doubt, +have chosen the latter course without a second thought. But he +preferred to stay with the mare. He was loth to admit defeat. She had +never bested him yet, and a sort of petty vanity refused to allow him +to acknowledge her triumph now. They might come to an opening, he told +himself, a stretch of open country. The mare might tire of the forest +gloom and turn prairieward. These things suggested themselves merely +as an excuse for his foolhardiness in remaining in the saddle, not +that he had any hope of their fulfilment.</p> + +<p>And so it was. Nothing moved the animal out of her course, and it +seemed almost as though a miracle were in operation. For, in all that +labyrinth of tree-trunks, a sheer road constantly opened out before +them. Once, and once only, disaster was within an ace of him. She +brushed a mighty black-barked giant with her shoulders. Tresler’s knee +struck it with such painful force that his foot was wrenched from the +stirrup and dragged back so that the rowel of his spur was plunged, +with terrific force, into the creature’s flank. She responded to the +blow with a sideways leap, and it was only by sheer physical strength +her rider retained his seat. Time and again the reaching boughs swept +him and tore at his clothes, frequently lacerating the flesh beneath +with the force of their impact.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p><p>These things, however, were only minor troubles as he raced down the +grim forest aisles. His thoughts centred themselves on the main +chance—the chance that embraced life and death. An ill-fate might, at +any moment, plunge horse and rider headlong into one of those silent +sentries. It would mean anything. Broken limbs at the best. But +Providence ever watches over the reckless horseman, and, in spite of a +certain native caution in most things, Tresler certainly was that. He +knew no fear of this jade of a mare, and deep down in his heart there +was a wild feeling of joy, a whole-hearted delight in the very madness +of the race.</p> + +<p>And the animal herself, untamed, unchecked, frothing at her bit, her +sides a-lather with foam, her barrel tuckered like that of a finely +trained race-horse, rushed blindly on. The forest echoed and reëchoed +with the dull thud of her hoofs as they pounded the thick underlay of +rotting cones. And her rider breathed hard as he lay with his head +beside the reeking neck, and watched for the coming of the end.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, in the midst of the gray, he saw a flash of sunlight. It was +like a beacon light to a storm-driven mariner. It was only a gleam of +sunshine and was gone almost at once, but it told him that he was fast +coming on the river. The final shoals, maybe, where wreck alone +awaited him. Just for an instant his purpose wavered. There was still +time to drop to the ground. He would have to chance the mare’s flying +heels. And it might save him.</p> + +<p>But the idea was driven from his head almost before he realized it; +the mare swerved like a skidding vehicle. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>He clung desperately to her +mane, one arm was even round her neck in a forcible embrace. The +struggle lasted only a few seconds. Then, as he recovered his +equilibrium, he saw that she had turned into what was undoubtedly a +well-defined, but long-disused, forest trail. The way was clear of +obstruction. The trees had parted, opening up a wide avenue, and above +him shone the perfect azure of the summer sky.</p> + +<p>He was amazed. Where could such a trail lead? His answer came +immediately. Away ahead of him, towering above the abundant foliage, +he saw the distant shimmer of snowy peaks, and nearer—so near as to +make him marvel aloud—the forest-clad, broken lands of the +foot-hills. Immediate danger was past and he had time to think. At all +cost he must endeavor to stop the racing beast under him. So he began +a vicious sawing at her mouth. His efforts only drove her faster, and +caused her to throw her head higher and higher, until her crown was +within six inches of his face.</p> + +<p>The futility of his purpose was almost ludicrous. He desisted. And the +Lady Jezebel lowered her head with an angry snort and rushed on harder +than ever. And now the race continued without relaxing. Once or twice +Tresler thought he detected other hoof-marks on the trail, but his +impression of them was very uncertain. One thing surely struck him, +however: since entering this relic of the old Indian days, a decided +change had come over the mare. She was no longer running blind; more, +it seemed to him that she displayed that inexpressible familiarity +with her surroundings which a true horseman can always detect, yet +never describe. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>This knowledge led him to the hope of the passing of +her temper.</p> + +<p>But his hope was an optimistic mistake. The sweat pouring from neck, +shoulders, and flanks, she still lifted her mud-brown barrel to her +mighty stride, with all the vim and lightness of the start. He felt +that, jade that she was, she ran because she loved it; ran with a +delight that acted as a safety-valve for her villainous temper. She +would run herself into amiability and then stop, but not before. And +he knew her temper so well that he saw many miles lying ahead of him.</p> + +<p>The rift was gradually widening, and the forest on either side +thinned. The trees were wider and more scattered, and the broken +hilltops, which but now had been well ahead, were frowning right over +him, and he knew, by the steady, gradual rise of the country, that he +would soon be well within the maze of forest, crag, and ravine, which +composed the mountain foot-hills.</p> + +<p>At last the forest broke and the ragged land leapt into full view with +magical abruptness. It was as though Nature had grown her forest +within the confines of a field embraced by an imaginary hedge. There +were no outskirts, no dwindling away. It ended in one clean-cut line. +And beyond lay the rampart hills, fringed and patched with disheveled +bluff, split by rifts and yawning chasms. And ever they rose higher +and higher as the distance gained, and, though summer was not yet at +its height, it was gaunt-looking, torn, chaotic, a land of desolation.</p> + +<p>The mare held straight on. The change of scene had no effect on her; +the trail still lay before her, and she <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>seemed satisfied with it. +Tresler looked for the river. He knew it was somewhere near by. He +gazed away to the right, and his conjecture was proved at once. There +it lay, the Mosquito River, narrowed and foaming, a torrent with high, +clean-cut banks. He followed its course ahead and saw that the banks +lost themselves in the shadow between towering, almost barren hills, +which promised the narrow mouth of a valley beyond.</p> + +<p>And as he watched these things, a feeling of uneasiness came over him. +The split between the hills looked so narrow. He looked for the trail. +It seemed to make straight for the opening. As the ground flew under +him, he turned once more to the river and followed its course with his +eyes, and suddenly he was thrilled with his first real feeling of +apprehension. The river on the right, and the hill on the left of him +were converging. Nor could he avoid that meeting-point.</p> + +<p>He was borne on by the bolting mare. There was not the smallest hope +of restraining her. Whatever lay before him, he must face it, and face +it with every faculty alert and ready. His mouth parched, and he +licked his lips. He was facing a danger now that was uncertain, and +the uncertainty of it strung him with a nervous apprehension.</p> + +<p>Bluff succeeded bluff in rapid succession. The hill on the left had +become a sheer cliff, and the general aspect of the country, that of a +tremendous gorge. The trail rose slightly and wound its tortuous way +in such an aggravating manner that it was impossible for him to see +what lay before him.</p> + +<p>At one point he came to a fork where another trail, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>less defined, +branched away to the right. For a moment he dreaded lest the mare +should adopt the new way. He knew what lay out there—the river. +However, his fears were quickly allayed. The Lady Jezebel had no +intention of leaving the road she was on.</p> + +<p>They passed the fork, and he sighed his relief. But his relief was +short-lived. Without a sign or warning the trail he was on died out, +and his course lay over a narrow level flat sparsely dotted with +small, stubbly bush. Now he knew that the mare had been true to +herself. She had passed the real trail by, and was running headlong +to——</p> + +<p>He dared think no more. He knew the crisis was at hand. He had reached +the narrowest point of the opening between the two hills, and there +stretched the river right across his path less than fifty yards ahead. +It took no central course—as might have been expected—through the +gorge. It met the left-hand cliff diagonally, and, further on, adopted +its sheer side for its left bank. He saw the clearly defined cutting, +sharp, precise, before it reached the cliff, and he was riding +straight for it!</p> + +<p>In that first moment of realization he passed through every sensation +of fear; but no time was given him for thought. Fifty yards! What was +that to the raking stride of his untamed mare? It would be gone in a +few seconds. Action was the only thing to serve him, and such action +as instinct prompted him to was utterly unavailing. With a mighty +heave of his body, and with all the strength of his sinewy arms, he +tried to pull the creature on to her haunches. As well try to stem +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>the tide ahead of him. She threw up her head until it nearly struck +him in the face; she pawed the air with her great front legs; then, as +he released her, she rushed forward again with a vicious snort.</p> + +<p>His case seemed utterly hopeless. He sat down tight in the saddle, +leaning slightly forward. He held his reins low, keeping a steady +strain upon them. There was a vague, wild thought in his mind. He knew +the river had narrowed. Was it a possible jump? He feared the very +worst, but clung desperately to the hope. He would lift the creature +to it when it came, anyhow. Would she see it? Would she, freakish +brute that she was, realize her own danger, and, for once in her +desperate life, do one sensible act? He did not expect it. He dared +not hope for that. He only wondered.</p> + +<p>He could see the full extent of the chasm now. And he thrilled as he +realized that it was broader than he had supposed. Worse, the far bank +was lower, and a fringe of bush hung at its very edge. His jaws +tightened as he came up. He could hear the roar of the torrent below, +and, to his strained fancy, it seemed to come up from the very bowels +of the earth.</p> + +<p>A few more strides. He timed his effort with a judgment inspired by +the knowledge that his life depended on it—it, and the mare.</p> + +<p>The chasm now came at him with a rush. Suddenly he leaned over and let +out a wild “halloo!” in the creature’s ears. At the same time he +lifted her and plunged his spurs hard into her flanks. The effect was +instantaneous, electrical. Just for an instant it seemed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>to him that +some unseen power had suddenly shot her from under him. He had a +sensation of being left behind, while yet he was rushing through the +air with the saddle flying from under him. Then all seemed still, and +he was gliding, the lower part of his body struggling to outstrip the +rest of him. He had an impression of some great depth below him, +though he knew he saw nothing, heard nothing. There came a great jolt. +He lurched on to the animal’s neck, recovered himself, and, the next +instant, the old desperate gallop was going on as before.</p> + +<p>He looked back and shivered as he saw the gaping rift behind him. The +jump had been terrific, and, as he realized the marvel of the feat, he +leaned over and patted the mare’s reeking shoulder. She had performed +an act after her own wild heart.</p> + +<p>And Tresler laughed aloud at the thought. He could afford to laugh +now, for he saw the end of his journey coming. He had landed on the +trail he had lost, in all probability the continuation across the +river of the branch road he had missed on the other side, and this was +heading directly for the hill before him. More, he could see it +winding its way up the hill. Even the Lady Jezebel, he thought, would +find that ascent more than to her liking.</p> + +<p>And he was right. She faced it and breasted it like the lion-hearted +animal she was, but the loose sandy surface, and the abruptness of the +incline, first brought her to a series of plunges, and finally to her +knees and a dead halt.</p> + +<p>And Tresler was out of the saddle in an instant, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>drew the reins +over her head, while she, now quite subdued, struggled to her feet. +She was utterly blown, and her master was little better. They stood +together on that hillside and rested.</p> + +<p>Now the man had a full view of the river below, and he realized the +jump that the mare had made. And, further down, he beheld an +astonishing sight. At a point where the course of the river narrowed, +a rough bridge of pine-logs had been thrown across it. He stood for +some minutes contemplating the scene and busy with his thoughts, which +at last culminated in a question uttered aloud—</p> + +<p>“Where on earth does it lead to?”</p> + +<p>And he turned and surveyed the point, where, higher up, the trail +vanished round the hillside above him. The question voiced a natural +curiosity which he promptly proceeded to satisfy. Linking his arm +through the reins, he led the mare up the hill.</p> + +<p>It was a laborious climb. Even free of her burden the horse had +difficulty in keeping her feet. The sandy surface was deep, and poured +away at every step like the dry sand on the seashore. And as they +labored up, Tresler’s wonder increased at every step. Why had such a +trail been made, and where—where could it lead to?</p> + +<p>At length the vanishing-point was reached, and horse and rider rounded +the bend. And immediately the reason was made plain. But even the +reason sank into insignificance before the splendor of the scene which +presented itself.</p> + +<p>He was standing on a sort of shelf cut out of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>hillside. It was +not more than fifty yards long, and some twenty wide, but it stood +high over a wide, far-reaching valley, scooped out amongst the great +foot-hills which reared their crests about him on every side. Far as +the eye could see was spread out the bright, early summer green of the +grass-land hollow. For the most part the surrounding hills were +precipitate, and rose sheer from the bed of the valley, but here and +there a friendly landslide had made the place accessible. Just where +he stood, and all along the shelf, the face of the hill formed a +precipice, both above and below, and the only approach to it was the +way he had come round from the other side of the hill.</p> + +<p>And the object, the reason, of that hidden road. A small hut crushed +into the side of the sheer cliff. A dugout of logs, and thatch, and +mud plaster. A hut with one fronting door, and a parchment window; a +hut such as might have belonged to some old-time trapper, who had +found it necessary to set his home somewhere secure from the attacks +of marauding Indians.</p> + +<p>And what a strategic position it was! One approach to be barred and +barricaded; one laborious road which the besieged could sweep with his +rifle-fire, and beat back almost any horde of Indians in the country. +He led his horse on toward the hut. The door was closed, and the +parchment of the window hid the interior.</p> + +<p>The outside appearance showed good repair. He examined it critically. +He walked round its three sides, and, as he came to the far side of +it, and thoughtfully <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>took in the method of its construction, he +suddenly became aware of another example of the old trapper’s cunning. +The cliff that rose sheer up for another two or three hundred feet +slightly sloped backward at the extremity of the shelf, and here had +been cut a rude sort of staircase in the gray limestone of which it +was composed. There were the steps, dangerous enough, and dizzying to +look at, rising up, up, to the summit above. He ventured to the brink +where they began, but instantly drew back. Below was a sheer drop of +perhaps five hundred feet.</p> + +<p>Turning his eyes upward, his fancy conjured up a picture of the poor +wretch, hunted and besieged by the howling Indians, starving perhaps, +creeping at dead of night from the little fort he had held so long and +so valiantly against such overwhelming odds, and, in desperation, +availing himself of his one and only possible escape. Step by step, he +followed him, in imagination, up the awful cliff, clinging for dear +life with fingers worn and lacerated by the grinding stone. Weary and +exhausted, he seemed to see him draw near the top. Then a slip, one +slip of his tired feet, and no hold upon the limestone with his hands +would have power to save him. Down, down——</p> + +<p>He turned back to the hut with a sick feeling in his stomach. Securing +his mare to an iron ring, which he found driven firmly into one of the +logs, he proceeded to investigate further. The door was held by a +common latch, and yielded at once when he raised it. It opened inward, +and he waited after throwing it open. He had a strange feeling of +trespass in thus intruding <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>upon what might prove to be the home of +some fur-hunter.</p> + +<p>No sound followed the opening of the door. He waited listening; then +at last he stepped forward and announced himself with a sharp “Hello!”</p> + +<p>His only answer was the echo of his greeting. Without more ado he +stepped in. For a moment the sharpness of the contrast of light made +it impossible for him to see anything; but presently he became used to +the twilight of the interior, and looked about him curiously. It was +his first acquaintance with a dugout, nor was he impressed with the +comfort it displayed. The place was dirty, unkempt, and his dream of +the picturesque, old-time trapper died out entirely. He beheld walls +bare of all decoration, simply a rough plastering of mud over the +lateral logs; a frowsy cupboard, made out of a huge packing-case, +containing odd articles for housekeeping purposes. There were the +fragments of two chairs lying in a heap beside a dismembered table, +which stood only by the aid of two legs and the centre post which +supported the pitch of the roof. A rough trestle-bed occupied the far +end of the hut, and in shape and make it reminded him of his own bed +in the bunkhouse. But there the resemblance ended, for the palliasse +was of brown sacking, and a pair of dull-red blankets were tumbled in +a heap upon its foot. One more blanket of similar hue was lying upon +the floor; but this was only a torn fragment that had possibly served +as a carpet, or, to judge by other fragments lying about, had been +used to patch shirts, or even the well-worn bedclothes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p><p>It was a squalid hovel, and reeked of the earth out of which it was +dug. Beyond the bedding, the red blankets, and the few plates and pots +in the packing-case cupboard, there was not a sign of the owner, and +Tresler found himself wondering as to what manner of man it was who +could have endured such meanness. It did not occur to him that +probably the very trapper he had thought of had left his eyrie in +peace and taken his belongings with him, leaving behind him only those +things which were worthless.</p> + +<p>A few minutes satisfied his curiosity. Probably his ride, and a +natural desire to return to the ranch as quickly as possible, had +dulled the keenness of his faculties of observation. Certain it is +that, squalid as the place was, there was an air of recent habitation +about it that he missed. He took it for a deserted shack merely, and +gave it no second thought.</p> + +<p>He passed out into the daylight with an air of relief; he had seen +quite enough. The Lady Jezebel welcomed him with an agitated snort; +she too seemed anxious to get away. He led her down the shelving trail +again. The descent was as laborious as the ascent had been, and much +more dangerous. But it was accomplished at last, and at the foot of +the hill he mounted the now docile animal, who cantered off as amiably +as though she had never done anything wrong in her life.</p> + +<p>And as he rode away his thoughts reverted to the incidents of that +morning; he went again over the scenes in which he had taken part, the +scenes he had witnessed. He thought of his brief battle with Jake, of +Diane and Joe, of his interview with Fyles. All these <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>things were of +such vital import to him that he had no thought for anything else; +even the log bridge spanning the river could not draw from him any +kind of interest. Had his mind been less occupied, he might have +paused to ask himself a question about the things he had just seen. He +might even have wondered how the logs of that dugout had been hauled +to the shelf on which it stood. Certain it was that they must have +been carried there, for there was not a single tree upon the hillside, +only a low bush. And the bridge; surely it was the work of many hands. +And why was it there on a disused trail?</p> + +<p>But he had no thought for such questions just then. He bustled the +mare and hurried on.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>THE TRAIL OF THE NIGHT-RIDERS</h3> + +<p>A week passed before Tresler was again brought into contact with Jake. +When he got back from his ride into the foot-hills, the +“broncho-busting” carnival was in full swing; but he was fated to have +no share in it. Jacob Smith was waiting for him with a message from +Julian Marbolt; his orders were peremptory. He was to leave at once +for Whitewater, to make preparations for the reception of the young +horses now being broken for the troops. The rancher made his meaning +quite plain. And Tresler was quick to understand that this was simply +to get him out of the way until such time as Jake’s temper had cooled +and the danger of a further rupture was averted.</p> + +<p>He received his instructions without comment. It was rough on his +mare, but as the Lady Jezebel was fond of giving hard knocks, she must +not mind if she received a similar treatment in return. And so he +went, much to the disquiet of Joe Nelson, and with a characteristic +admonition from Arizona. That individual had just finished thrashing a +bull-headed young broncho with a quirt, because he wouldn’t move from +the spot where he had been saddled, when Tresler came up. The lean man +was breathing hard as he rested, and he panted his farewell huskily.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p><p>“Kep y’r gun good an’ handy,” he said. “Et’s mighty good company, if +et don’t git gassin’ wi’out you ast it a question.”</p> + +<p>In this case, however, there was no need for the advice. The journey +was a peaceful relief after the storms of Mosquito Bend. Tresler +transacted his business, the horses arrived, were delivered to the +authorities, and he witnessed the military methods of dealing with +their remounts, which was a wonderful example of patience and +moderation. Then he set out for the ranch again, in company with Raw +Harris and Lew Cawley—the two men who had brought the band into the +town.</p> + +<p>His return to Mosquito Bend was very different from his first coming. +It seemed to him as if a lifetime had passed since he had been +ridiculed about his riding-breeches by all who met him. So much had +happened since then. Now he was admittedly a full-blown prairie man, +with much to learn, perhaps, but garbed like the other cowpunchers +with him, in moleskin and buckskin, Mexican spurs, and slouch hat; his +gun-belt slantwise on his hips, and his leather chapps creaking as he +rode. He was no longer “the guy with the pants” he had been when he +first entered the land of cattle, and somehow he felt glad at the +metamorphosis. It brought him nearer to the land, which, with all its +roughness, he felt to be the true life for him.</p> + +<p>It was evening; the sun had not yet set, but it was dipping low over +the western hills, casting long shadows from behind the +gorgeous-colored heat clouds. Its dying lustre shone like a fire of +molten matter through the tree-tops, and lit the forest-crowned hills, +until the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>densest foliage appeared like the most delicate fretwork of +Nature’s own cutting. And in the shadow cast by the hilly background +there nestled the ranch, overlooking its vast, wide-spreading pastures +of succulent grass.</p> + +<p>Yes, Tresler was glad to be back to it all, no matter what the future +might hold for him. He had missed his companions; he had missed +Arizona, with his fierce, untamed spirit; he had missed Joe, with his +quaint face and staunch heart; but more than all, he had longed to get +back to Diane, looking forward to the greeting she would extend him as +only a lover can. But there was something more in his longing than +that. Every day he had been away he had fretted and chafed at the +thought of what might be happening to her. Joe was there to send him +word, but even this was insufficient. There had been times when he +felt that he could not stay to finish the work put upon him; there had +been times when his patience utterly gave way before the nervous +tension of his feelings, and he had been ready to saddle his mare and +offer her a race against time back to the girl he loved.</p> + +<p>His feelings were stirred to their very depths as he came up the trail +from the ford. He had no words for either of his companions, nor did +they seem inclined for speech. They passed the corrals in silence and +reached the bunkhouse, where several of their comrades greeted them +with a nod or a casual “Hello!” They might have just returned from a +day’s work on the range for all the interest displayed at their +coming. But, then, effusiveness is no part of the cowboy’s manner. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>There is rarely a “good-bye” on the prairie, unless it is when a +comrade “hits the one-way trail.” Even then it is more often a quiet +“s’long,” without any demonstrativeness, but which may mean far more +than a flood of tears.</p> + +<p>Jake was at his door when Tresler rode over to report. He was still +bearing the marks of the quirt on his face, and the author of them +beheld his handiwork with some qualms of regret. However, there was +none of this in his manner as he made his report. And, much to his +astonishment, Jake displayed a cold civility. He surpassed himself. +Not a sneer or sarcasm passed his lips. The report done, he went on to +the barn and stabled his mare for the night. Then he passed on toward +his quarters.</p> + +<p>Before he reached his destination, however, he was joined by Nelson. +The little man had evidently been waiting for him.</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>There was no greeting. Tresler put his monosyllabic question at once. +And the choreman responded without hesitation.</p> + +<p>“She’s bin astin’ fer you three times. When wus you gittin’ around +agin? I guessed I didn’t know fer sure. She wus kind o’ worrited, I +reckon.” He paused, and his twisted face turned in the direction of +the foreman’s hut. “She wus weepin’ last night,” he went on. Then he +paused again, and his shrewd eyes came back to Tresler’s face. “She’s +bin weepin’ to-day,” he said, with a peculiar look of expectation in +his manner.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p><p>“What’s the trouble?” The question came short and sharp.</p> + +<p>“Mebbe she’s lonesome.”</p> + +<p>“That’s not it; you’ve got other reasons.”</p> + +<p>Joe looked away again. “Jake’s bin around some. But I guess she’s +lonesome too. She’s ast fer you.” The little man’s tone was full of +obstinacy.</p> + +<p>Tresler understood his drift. If Joe had his way he’d march Diane and +him off to the nearest parson with no more delay than was required to +saddle two horses.</p> + +<p>“I’m going to see her to-night,” Tresler replied quietly. Then, as he +saw Jake appear again in the doorway, he said, “You’d better pass on +now. Maybe I’ll see you afterward.”</p> + +<p>And Joe moved off without another word. Jake had seen them together, +but he was unsuspicious. He was thinking of the scars on his face, and +of something else that had nothing to do with their meeting. And his +thoughts made him smile unpleasantly.</p> + +<p>If Tresler’s first greeting had been indifferent, his reception, as he +came over to the bunkhouse now, was far from being so. Talk flowed +freely, inquiries hailed him on every side; jests passed, sometimes +coarse, sometimes subtle, but always cordial. All the men on the ranch +had a fair good-will for him. “Tenderfoot” he might be, but they +approved his grit, and with frontiersmen grit is all that matters.</p> + +<p>After supper he separated himself from his companions under pretext of +cleaning his saddlery. He hauled a bucket of water, and went down to +the lower corrals <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>and disposed his accoutrements for the operation, +but he did no work until he saw Arizona approaching. That unkempt +personage loafed up in a sort of manner that plainly said he didn’t +care if he came or not. But Tresler knew this was only his manner. The +cleaning of the saddle now proceeded with assiduity, and Arizona sat +himself down on a fallen log and spat tobacco-juice around him. At +last he settled himself, nursing one knee in his clasped hands, and +spoke with that air of absolute conviction which always characterized +him.</p> + +<p>“Say, Jake’s grittin’ his teeth tight,” he said. Then, as an +afterthought, “But he ain’t showin’ ’em.”</p> + +<p>Tresler looked up and studied the cadaverous face before him.</p> + +<p>“You mean—about——”</p> + +<p>“Wal, I wus jest figgerin’ on how you wus standin’. Seems likely +you’re standin’ lookin’ east wi’ a feller due west who’s got the drop +on yer; which, to my reckonin’, ain’t as safe as handin’ trac’s to a +lodge o’ Cheyenne neches on the war-path.”</p> + +<p>“You think that Jake’s quietly getting the drop on me?”</p> + +<p>“Wal, I allow ef I wus Jake I’d be gettin’ a’mighty busy that way. An’ +I kind o’ calc’late that’s wot he’s doin’.”</p> + +<p>Tresler smiled and returned to his work. “And what form do you think +his ‘drop’ will take?” he asked, without looking up.</p> + +<p>“I ain’t gifted wi’ imagination. Y’ ain’t never sure which way a blind +mule’s likely ter kick. Jake’s in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>natur’ of a blind mule. What I +sez is, watch him. Don’t look east when he’s west. Say,” he went on, +in a tone of disgust, “you Noo Yorkers make me sick. Ther’ ain’t +nothin’ ter hittin’ a feller an’ makin’ him sore. It on’y gives him +time to git mad. A gun’s handy an’ sudden. On’y you need a goodish +bore ef you’re goin’ ter perf’rate the hide of a guy like Jake. +Pshaw!” he finished up witheringly, “you fellers ain’t got shut o’ +last century.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe we haven’t,” Tresler retorted, with a good-humored laugh; “but +your enterprise has carried you so far ahead of time that you’ve +overlapped. I tell you, man, you’re back in the savage times. You’re +groping in the prehistoric periods—Jurassic, Eocene, or some such.”</p> + +<p>“Guess I ain’t familiar wi’ Jurassics an’ Eocenes,” Arizona replied +gravely. “Mebbe that was before my time; but ef you’re speakin’ o’ +them fellers as clumped each other over the head wi’ stone clubs, I +’lows they had more savee than a Noo Yorker, ef they wus kind o’ +primitive in the’r habits.”</p> + +<p>Tresler accepted the argument in the spirit in which it was put +forward. It was no use getting angry. Arizona was peculiar, but he had +reason to consider him, in his own parlance, “a decent citizen.” He +went on with his work steadily while the cowpuncher grunted out his +impatience. Then at last, as though it were forced from him, the +latter jerked out a more modified opinion of the civilized American. +It seemed as though Tresler’s very silence had drawn it from him.</p> + +<p>“Wal,” he said grumblingly, “mebbe you Noo <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>Yorkers has points—mebbe, +I sez.” Then he dismissed the subject with an impatient shrug of his +drooping shoulders, and went off at a fresh angle. “Say, I wus kind o’ +wonderin’ some ’bout that flea-bitten shadder, Joe Nelson. He’s +amazin’ queer stayin’ ’round here. He’s foxin’ some, too. Y’ ain’t +never sure when you’re like to strike them chewed-up features o’ his +after nightfall. Y’ see he’s kind o’ quit drinkin’—leastways, he’s +frekent sober. Mebbe he can’t sleep easy. Ther’s suthin’ worritin’ his +head, sure. He ’pears ter me desp’rate restless—kind o’ like an old +hoss wi’ the bush-ticks. Et don’t fit noways wi’ the Joe Nelson I +oncet knew. Mebbe it’s religion. Ther’ ain’t nuthin’ like religion fer +makin’ things oneasy in your head. Joe allus had a strain o’ religion +in him.”</p> + +<p>The Southerner gazed gloomily at the saddle on the fence, while he +munched his tobacco in thoughtful silence.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think Joe’s got religion,” said Tresler, with a smile. “He’s +certainly worried, and with reason. Jake’s got his knife into him. No, +I think Joe’s got a definite object in staying around here, and I +shouldn’t wonder if he’s clever enough to attain it, whatever it is.”</p> + +<p>“That sounds more like Joe,” assented the other, cheering up at the +suggestion. “Still, Joe allus had a strain o’ religion in him,” he +persisted. “I see him drop a man in his tracks oncet, an’ cry like a +noo-born babby ’cos ther’ wa’n’t a chu’ch book in Lone Brake +Settlement, an’ he’d forgot his prayers, an’ had ter let the feller +lie around fer the coyotes, instead o’ buryin’ him decent. That’s a +whiles ago. Guess Lone Brake’s <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>changed some. They do say ther’s a +Bible ther’ now. Kind o’ roped safe to the desk in the meetin’-house, +so the boys can’t git foolin’ wi’ it. Yup,” he went on, with an +abstracted look in his expressive eyes, “religion’s a mighty powerful +thing when it gits around. Most like the fever. I kind o’ got touched +wi’ it down Texas way on the Mexican border. Guess et wer’ t’ do wi’ a +lady I favored at the time; but that ain’t here nor there. Guess most +o’ the religion comes along o’ the wimmin folk. ’Longside o’ wimmin +men is muck.”</p> + +<p>Tresler nodded his appreciation of the sentiment.</p> + +<p>“Gettin’ religion’s most like goin’ on the bust. Hits yer sudden, an’ +yer don’t git off’n it easy. The signs is allus the same. You kind o’ +worry when folks gits blasphemin’, an’ you don’t feel like takin’ a +hand to help ’em out. You hate winnin’ at ‘draw,’ an’ talks easy when +a feller holds ‘fours’ too frekent. An’ your liquor turns on your +stummick. They’re all signs,” he added expansively. “When a feller +gits like that he’d best git right off to the meetin’-house. That’s +how I tho’t.”</p> + +<p>“And you went?”</p> + +<p>“That’s so. Say, an’ it ain’t easy. I ’lows my nerve’s pretty right +fer most things, but when you git monkeyin’ wi’ religion it’s kind o’ +different. ’Sides, ther’s allus fellers ter choke you off. Nassy +Wilkes, the s’loon-keeper, he’d had religion bad oncet, tho’ I ’lows +he’d fergot most o’t sence he’d been in the s’loon biz; he kind o’ +skeered me some. Sed they used a deal o’ water, an’ mostly got ducking +greenhorns in it. Wal, I put ha’f a dozen slugs o’ whisky down my +neck—which <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>he sed would prevent me gittin’ cold, seein’ water wa’n’t +in my line—an’ hit the trail fer the meetin’.”</p> + +<p>“What denomination?” asked Tresler, curiously. “What religion?” he +added, for the man’s better understanding.</p> + +<p>“Wal, I don’t rightly knows,” Arizona went on gravely. “I kind o’ +fancy the boys called ’em ‘dippers’; but I guess this yarn don’t call +fer no argyment,” he added, with a suspicion of his volcanic temper +rising at the frequent interruptions. Then, as the other kept silence, +he continued in his earnest way, “Guess that meetin’-house wus mostly +empty. Ther’ wus one feller ther’ a’ready when I come. He wus playin’ +toons on a kind o’ ’cordian he worked wi’ his feet——”</p> + +<p>“Harmonium,” suggested Tresler, diffidently.</p> + +<p>“That’s it. I could ’a’ wep’ as I looked at that feller, he wus that +noble. He’d long ha’r greased reg’lar, an’ wore swaller-tails. Guess +he wus workin’ that concertina-thing like mad; an’ he jest looked +right up at the ceilin’ as if he wer’ crazy fer some feller to come +’long an’ stop him ’fore he bust up the whole shootin’ match.”</p> + +<p>“Looked inspired,” Tresler suggested.</p> + +<p>“Mebbe that’s wot. Still, I wus glad I come. Then the folks come +along, an’ the deac’n; an’ the feller quit. Guess he wus plumb scart +o’ that deac’n, tho’ I ’lows he wus a harmless-lookin’ feller ’nough. +I see him clear sheer out o’ range on sight, which made me think he +wus a mean-sperrited cuss anyway.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I guess I wus glad I’d come; I felt that easy <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>an’ wholesome. +Say, the meetin’s dead gut stuff. Yes, sir—dead gut. I felt I’d never +handle a gun again; I couldn’t ’a’ blasphemed ’longside a babby ef +you’d give me ten dollars to try. An’ I guess ther’ wa’n’t no dirty +Greaser as I couldn’t ha’ loved like a brother, I wus that soothed, +an’ peaceful, an’ saft feelin’. I jest took a chaw o’ plug, an’ sat +back an’ watched them folks lookin’ so noble as they come along in +the’r funeral kids an’ white chokers. Then the deac’n got good an’ +goin’, an’ I got right on to the ‘A-mens,’ fetchin’ ’em that easy I +wished I’d never done nothin’ else all my life. I set ther’ feelin’ +real happy.”</p> + +<p>Arizona paused, and his wild eyes softened as his thoughts went back +to those few happy moments of his chequered career. Then he heaved a +deep sigh of regret and went on—</p> + +<p>“But it wa’n’t to last. No, sir, religion ain’t fer the likes o’ me. +Ye can’t play the devil an’ mix wi’ angels. They’re bound to out you. +Et’s on’y natteral. Guess I’d bin chawin’ some, an’ ther’ wa’n’t no +spit boxes. That’s wher’ the trouble come. Ther’ wus a raw-boned cuss +wi’ his missis settin’ on the bench front o’ me, an’ I guess her silk +fixin’s got mussed up wi’ t’bacca juice someways. I see her look down +on the floor, then she kind o’ gathered her skirts aroun’ her an’ got +wipin’ wi’ her han’k’chief. Then she looks aroun’ at me, an’, me +feelin’ friendly, I kind o’ smiled at her, not knowin’ she wus riled. +Then she got whisperin’ to her wall-eyed galoot of a man, an’ he turns +aroun’ smart, an’ he sez, wi’ a scowl, sez he, ‘The meetin’-house +ain’t no place fer chawin’ hunks o’ <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>plug, mister; wher’ wus you +dragged from?’ Ther’ wus a nasty glint to his eye. But ef he wus goin’ +to fergit we wus in the meetin’-house I meant showin’ him I wa’n’t. So +I answers him perlite. Sez I, wi’ a smile, ‘Sir,’ sez I, ‘I take it we +ain’t from the same hog trough.’ I see he took it mean, but as a +feller got up from behind an’ shouts ‘Silence,’ I guessed things would +pass over. But that buzzard-headed mule wus cantankerous. He beckons +the other feller over an’ tells him I wus chawin’, an’ the other +feller sez to me: ‘You can’t chaw here, mussin’ up the lady’s +fixin’s.’</p> + +<p>“Wal, bein’ on’y human, I got riled, but, not wishin’ to raise a +racket, I spat my chew out. I don’t know how it come, but, I guess, +bein’ riled, I jest didn’t take notice wher’ I dumped it, till, kind +o’ sudden-like, I found I wus inspectin’ the vitals o’ that +side-show-freak’s gun. Sez he, in a nasty tone, which kind o’ +interrupted the deac’n’s best langwidge, an’ made folks fergit to +fetch the ‘A-men’ right, ‘You dog-gone son of a hog——’ But I didn’t +wait fer no more. I sees then what’s amiss. My chaw had located itself +on the lady’s ankle—which I ’lows wus shapely—which she’d left +showin’ in gatherin’ her fixin’s aroun’ her. I see that, an’ I see his +stovepipe hat under the seat. I jest grabbed that hat sudden, an’ +’fore he’d had time to drop his hammer I’d mushed it down on his head +so he couldn’t see. Then I ups, wi’ the drop on him, an’ I sez: ‘Come +right along an’ we’ll settle like honest cit’zens.’ An’ wi’ that I +backed out o’ the meetin’. Wal, I guess he wus clear grit. We settled. +I ’lows he wus a dandy at the bizness end o’ a gun, an’ I walked lame +fer a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>month after. But ther’ was a onattached widdy in that town when +we’d done.”</p> + +<p>“You killed him?” Tresler asked.</p> + +<p>“Wal, I didn’t wait to ast no details. Guess I got busy fergittin’ +religion right off. Mebbe ther’s a proper time fer ev’rything, an’ I +don’t figger it’s reas’nable argyfyin’ even wi’ a deac’n when his +swaller-tail pocket’s bustin’ wi’ shootin’ materials. No, sir, guess +religion ain’t no use fer me.”</p> + +<p>Arizona heaved a deep sigh of regret. Tresler gathered up his saddle +and bridle. Once or twice he had been ready to explode with laughter +during his companion’s story, but the man’s evident sincerity and +earnestness had held him quiet; had made him realize that the story +was in the nature of a confidence, and was told in no spirit of +levity. And, somehow, now, at the end of it, he felt sorry for this +wandering outcast, with no future and only a disreputable past. He +knew there was far more real good in him than bad, and yet there +seemed no possible chance for him. He would go on as he was; he would +“punch” cattle so long as he could find employment. And when chance, +or some other matter, should plunge him on his beam ends, he would +take to what most cowboys in those days took to when they fell upon +evil days—cattle-stealing. And, probably, end his days dancing at the +end of a lariat, suspended from the bough of some stout old tree.</p> + +<p>As he moved to go, Arizona rose abruptly from his seat, and stayed him +with a gesture.</p> + +<p>“Guess I got side-tracked yarnin’. I wanted to tell you a few things +that’s bin doin’ sence you’ve bin away.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p><p>Tresler stood.</p> + +<p>“Say,” the other went on at once, “ther’s suthin’ doin’ thick ’tween +Jake an’ blind hulks. Savee? I heerd Jake an’ Miss Dianny gassin’ at +the barn one day. She wus ther’ gittin’ her bit of a shoe fixed by +Jacob—him allus fixin’ her shoes for her when they needs it—an’ Jake +come along and made her go right in an’ look at the new driver he wus +breakin’ fer her. Guess they didn’t see me, I wus up in the loft +puttin’ hay down. When they come in I wus standin’ takin’ a chaw, an’ +Jake’s voice hit me squar’ in the lug, an’ I didn’t try not to hear +what he said. An’ I soon felt good that I’d held still. Sez he, ‘You +best come out wi’ me an’ learn to drive her. She’s dead easy.’ An’ +Miss Dianny sez, sez she, ‘I’ll driv’ her when she’s thoroughly +broken!’ An’ he sez, ‘You mean you ain’t goin’ out wi’ me?’ An’ she +answers short-like, ‘No.’ Then sez he, mighty riled, ‘You shan’t go +out with that mare by yourself to meet no Treslers,’ sez he. ‘I’ll +promise you that. See? Your father’s on to your racket, I’ve seen to +that. He knows you an’ him’s bin sparkin’, an’ he’s real mad. That’s +by the way,’ he sez. ‘What I want to tell you’s this. You’re goin’ to +marry me, sure. See? An’ your father’s goin’ to make you.’ An’ Miss +Dianny jest laffed right out at him. But her laff wa’n’t easy. An’ sez +she, wi’ mock ’nuff to make a man feel as mean as rank sow-belly, +‘Father will never let me marry, and you know it.’ An’ Jake stands +quiet a minnit. Then I guess his voice jest rasped right up to me +through that hay-hole. ‘I’m goin’ to make him,’ sez <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>he, vicious-like. +‘A tidy ranch, this, eh? Wal, I tell you his money an’ his stock an’ +his land won’t help him a cent’s worth ef he don’t give you to me. I +ken make him lick my boots if I so choose. See?’ Ther’ wa’n’t another +word spoke. An’ I heerd ’em move clear. Then I dropped, an’ pushin’ my +head down through the hay-hole, I see that Jake’s goin’ out by +hisself. Miss Dianny had gone out clear ahead, an’ wus talkin’ to +Jacob.”</p> + +<p>“What do you think it means?” asked Tresler, quietly.</p> + +<p>And in a moment the other shot off into one of his volcanic surprises.</p> + +<p>“I ain’t calc’latin’ the’r meanin’. Say, Tresler.” The man paused, and +his great rolling eyes glanced furtively from right to left. Then he +came close up and spoke in a harsh whisper. “It’s got to be. He ain’t +fit to live. This is wot I wus thinkin’. I’ll git right up to his +shack, an’ I’ll call him every son-of-a—— I ken think of. See? He’ll +git riled, an’—wal, I owe her a debt o’ gratitood, an’ I can’t never +pay it no other ways, so I’ll jest see my slug finds his carkis right, +’fore he does me in.”</p> + +<p>Arizona stepped back with an air of triumph. He could see no flaw in +his plan. It was splendid, subtle.</p> + +<p>It was the one and only way to settle all the problems centering round +the foreman. Thus he would pay off a whole shoal of debts, and rid +Diane of Jake forever. And he felt positively injured when Tresler +shook his head.</p> + +<p>“You would pay her ill if you did that,” he said <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>gravely. “Jake was +probably only trying to frighten her. Besides, he is her father’s +foreman. The man he trusts and relies on.”</p> + +<p>“You ain’t got no savee,” Arizona broke out in disgust. “Say, he won’t +need no foreman when Jake’s out of the way. You’ll marry the gal, +an’——”</p> + +<p>But he got no further. Tresler interrupted him coldly.</p> + +<p>“That’s enough, Arizona. We aren’t going to discuss it further. In the +meantime, believe me that I am wide awake to my position, and to Miss +Marbolt’s, and ready to do the best for her in emergency. I must get +on now, for I have several things to do before I turn in.”</p> + +<p>Arizona had no more to say. He relapsed into moody silence, and, as +they moved away together, Tresler was thankful for the freakish chance +that had made this man come to him with his plan before putting it +into execution. It was dark now, and as they reached the bunkhouse +they parted. Tresler deposited his saddle at the barn, but he did not +return to the bunkhouse. He meant to see Diane before he turned in, by +hook or by crook.</p> + +<p>He knew that the time had come when he must actively seek to help her. +When Jake openly threatened her, and she was found weeping, there was +certainly need of that help. He was alarmed, seriously alarmed, and +yet he hardly knew what it was he feared most. He quite realized the +difficulties that confronted him. She had given him no right to +interfere in her affairs. More, she would have every reason to resent +such interference. But, in spite of this, he held <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>to his resolve. It +was his love that urged him on, his love that overbore his scruples, +his gravest apprehensions. He told himself that he had the right which +every man has. The right to woo and win for himself the love he +covets. It was for Diane to say “yea” or “nay,” not her father. There +was no comfort she had been accustomed to, or even luxury, that he +could not give her. There was no earthly reason why he should not try +to win her. He vividly called to mind what Joe had suggested, and +Arizona’s unfinished sentence rang in his ears, but both suggestions +as a basis of hope he set aside with a lover’s egotism. What could +these men know or understand of such a matter?</p> + +<p>He had left the barn, and his way took him well out from the ranch +yards in the direction of the pinewoods. He remembered his walk on his +first night on the ranch, and meant to approach the back of the blind +man’s house by the same route.</p> + +<p>The calm of the prairie night had settled upon the ranch. The lowing +of the cattle was hushed, the dogs were silent; and the voices of men +and the tramp of horses’ hoofs were gone. There was only the harsh +croaking of the frogs in the Mosquito River and the cry of the +prowling coyote to disturb the peace of the summer night.</p> + +<p>And as he walked, he felt for the first time something of the grip +which sooner or later the prairie fixes upon those who seriously seek +life upon its bosom. Its real fascination begins only when the first +stages of apprenticeship to its methods and habits are passing. The +vastness of its world, its silence, its profound suggestion <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>of +solitude, which ever remains even where townships and settlements +exist, holds for man a fascination which appeals to the primitive +senses and drags him back from the claims of civilization to the old, +old life. And when that call comes, and the latent savage is roused +from the depths of subjection, is it wonder that men yield to what, +after all, is only the true human instinct—the right of the +individual to defend itself from all attacks of foes? No; and so +Tresler argued as he thought of the men who were his comrades.</p> + +<p>Under the influence of his new feelings it seemed to him that life was +so small a thing, on which folks of civilization set much too high a +value. The ready appeal to the gun, which seemed to be one of the +first principles of the frontiersman’s life, was already beginning to +lose its repugnance for him. After all, where no arbitration could be +enforced, men still had a right to defend self and property.</p> + +<p>His thoughts wandered on through a maze of argument which convinced +him notwithstanding he told himself that it was all wrong. He told +himself weakly that his thoughts were the result of the demoralizing +influence of lawless associates, but, in spite of this, he felt that +there was, in reality, something in them of a deeper, more abiding +nature.</p> + +<p>He had made the woodland fringe, and was working his way back toward +the house. The darkness was profound here. The dense, sad-foliaged +pines dropped their ponderous boughs low about him as he passed, +shielding him from all possible view from the ranch. And, even over +the underlay of brittle cones, his moccasined <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>feet bore him along in +a silent, ghostly manner. It was the first time in his life he had +been forced to steal upon anybody’s house like a thief in the night; +but he felt that his object was more than sufficient justification.</p> + +<p>Now he looked keenly for any sign of lights among the ranch buildings. +The bunkhouse was in darkness, but Jake’s house was still lit up. +However, this did not bother him much. He knew that the foreman was in +the habit of keeping his lamp burning, even after retiring. Perhaps he +read at night. The idea amused him, and he wondered what style of +literature might appeal to a man of Jake’s condition of mind. But even +as he watched, the light went out, and he felt more satisfied.</p> + +<p>He reached a point on the edge of the forest opposite the barn. Then +something brought him up with a start. Some unusual sound had caught +his ear. It was the murmur of voices in the distance. Immediately his +mind went back to his first night on the ranch, and he remembered Red +Mask and his attendant horseman. Now he listened, peering hard into +the darkness in the direction of the house, at the point whence the +sound was proceeding. Whoever were talking they seemed to be standing +still. The sound grew no louder, nor did it die away. His curiosity +drew him on; and with cautious steps, he crept forward.</p> + +<p>He tried to estimate how far the speakers were from the house. It +seemed to him that they were somewhere in the neighborhood of the +rancher’s private stable. But he could not be altogether sure.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p><p>Now, as he drew nearer, the voices became louder. He could distinctly +hear the rise and fall of their tones, but still they were +unrecognizable. Again he paused, this time for caution’s sake only. He +estimated that he was within twenty-five yards of the stable. It would +not be safe to go further. The steady murmur that reached him was +tantalizing. Under ordinary circumstances he would have risked +discovery and gone on, but he could not jeopardize his present object.</p> + +<p>He stretched himself under the shelter of a low bush, and, strangely +enough, recognized it as the one he had lain under on that memorable +first night. This realization brought him a grim foreboding; he knew +what he expected, he knew what was coming. And his foreboding was +fulfilled within a few seconds of taking up his position.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he heard a door close, and the voices ceased speaking. He +waited almost breathlessly for the next move. It came. The crackling +of pine cones under shod hoofs sounded sharply to his straining ears. +It was a repetition of what had happened before. Two horsemen were +approaching from the direction of the house. It was inevitable that +his hand should go to his gun, and, as he realized his own action, he +understood how surely the prairie instincts had claimed him. But he +withdrew it quickly and waited, for he had no intention of taking +action. It might be Red Mask. It probably was. But he had no intention +of upsetting his present plans by any blind, precipitate attack upon +the desperado. Besides, if Red Mask and Jake were one, then the +shooting of him, in cold blood, in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>vicinity of the ranch, would, +in the eyes of the police, be murder. No story of his would convince a +jury that the foreman of Mosquito Bend was a cattle-rustler.</p> + +<p>A moment later the horses dimly outlined themselves. There were two of +them, as before. But he could not see well, the woods seemed darker +than before; and, besides, they did not pass so near to him. They went +on like ghostly, silent shadows, only the scrunch of the cones +underfoot told of their solidity.</p> + +<p>He waited until the sound died out, then he rose quietly and pursued +his way. But what he had just witnessed plunged his thoughts into a +moody channel. The night-riders were abroad again, riding unchecked +upon their desperate way, over the trail of murder and robbery they +cut for themselves wherever they went. He wondered with dread who was +to be victim to-night. He remembered Manson Orr and shuddered. He had +a bitter feeling that he had acted wrongly in letting them pass +unchallenged in spite of what reason and a cool judgment told him. His +duty had been to investigate, but he also thought of a sad-faced girl, +friendless and alone, weeping her heart out in the midst of her own +home. And somehow his duty faded out before the second picture. And, +as though to further encourage him, the memory of Joe Nelson’s words +came to him suddenly, and continued to haunt him persistently.</p> + +<p>“You’ll jest round that gal up into your own corrals, an’ set your own +brand on her quick, eh?”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>THE RISING OF A SUMMER STORM</h3> + +<p>When the horsemen had passed out of hearing, Tresler still exerted the +utmost caution. He had yet to pass the blind man’s room, and he knew +that that individual’s hearing was something bordering on the +marvelous, and, he argued, he must still be up, or, at least, awake. +So he moved on with the lightest tread, with every sense alert; +watchful alike for every unusual sound or movement. At the stable he +paused and gently tried the door. It was fast. He put his ear to it +and listened, and was forced to be content with the rattle of the +collar chains, and the sound of the heavy-breathing animals within. He +would have liked to investigate further, for the noise of the shutting +door, he knew, had come from the stable, but it behooved him to +refrain. It would be worse than useless to rouse the man, Anton, who +slept over the stable. And there was no other means of ascertaining +what had been going on.</p> + +<p>He crept on; and now the shadowy outline of the house itself shut him +off from the ranch. He cleared the danger zone of the rancher’s +bedroom and reached the kitchen, where he met with a first +disappointment. He was relieved and delighted to find that a light was +still burning there; but his joy was dashed almost immediately by +finding that the linen blind was down, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>not a crack showed by +which he could get a view of the room. He dared not go to the door +until he had ascertained who was within, so he stood for a moment +uncertain what to do. Then he suddenly remembered that the kitchen had +another window on the far side of the lean-to. It would mean passing +out into the open again; still, the darkness was such that the risk +was reduced to a minimum.</p> + +<p>With no further hesitation he hurried round. His only care now was to +tread quietly, and even this seemed unnecessary, for the blind man’s +room was at the other side of the house, and, if his suspicions were +correct, Jake was busy at his nocturnal trade. Fortune favored him. +The blind was down, but the lower sash of the window was raised, and +he saw that, by pulling the linen on one side, he could obtain a full +view of the room.</p> + +<p>He was about to carry out his purpose. His hand was raised and +reaching toward the window, when the sound of weeping came to him and +checked his action. He stood listening for a second. Then, with a +stifled ejaculation, he thrust his hand out further, and caught the +edge of the blind.</p> + +<p>He paused for nothing now. He had no scruples. He knew without inquiry +who it was that was weeping within; who else but Diane could it be? +And at the sound of each choking sob, his heart was wrung, and he +longed to clasp her in his arms and comfort her. This love of his +which had taken its place so suddenly in his life thrilled through his +body like a fiery torrent roused to fever heat by the sound of the +girl’s sobs.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p><p>Drawing the edge of the blind sharply on one side, he peered into the +room. His worst fears were realized. Diane was at the far side of the +kitchen sitting over the square cook-stove, rocking herself to and fro +in an access of misery, and, in what seemed to him, an attitude of +physical suffering. Her pretty head was bowed low upon her hands, and +her whole frame was shaken by the sobs she was struggling hard to, but +could not, suppress.</p> + +<p>He took all this in at a glance, then his eyes rested upon her arms. +The sleeves of her dress had been unfastened, and were thrown back +from her wrists, leaving them bare to the elbow. And he saw, to his +horror and indignation, that the soft, rounded flesh of her forearm +was swollen and bruised. The sight made him clench his teeth, and his +blue eyes suddenly hardened. He no longer permitted caution to govern +his actions.</p> + +<p>“Hist, Diane!” he whispered hoarsely. And he shook the stiff blind to +further draw her attention. “It is I, Tresler,” he went on urgently.</p> + +<p>And the girl sprang from her seat instantly and faced the window. She +dashed her hand across her eyes and hastily sought to readjust her +sleeves. But the pitiful attempt to thus hide her trouble only made +the signs more marked. The tears still flowed, in spite of her bravest +manner, and no effort of hers was able to keep the sweet lips from +quivering.</p> + +<p>She took one step in the direction of the window, but drew up with +such a violent start and expression of alarm in her tearful eyes, that +Tresler peered all <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>round the room for the cause. He saw nothing more +startling than a slumbering cat and the fragments of a broken lamp +upon the floor, and his eyes went back to her again. Then, as he +marked her attitude of attention, he understood. She was listening for +the familiar but ominous “tap, tap” of her father’s stick. He too +listened. Then, as no sound came to his straining ears, he spoke +again.</p> + +<p>“I must speak with you, Miss Diane,” he whispered. “Open the back +door.”</p> + +<p>It was only after making his demand that he realized how impossible it +must have sounded to the distraught girl. It was the first time, since +he had set out to see her, that it occurred to him how one-sided was +the proposition. She had no knowledge of his resolve to thrust his aid +upon her. He told himself that she could have no possible inkling of +his feelings toward her; and he waited with no little anxiety for her +response.</p> + +<p>Nor was that response long in coming. She made another effort to dash +the tears from her eyes. Then, half defiantly and half eagerly, she +stepped up to the window.</p> + +<p>“Go round to the door, quick!” she whispered, and moved off again as +though she stood in imminent peril as a consequence of her words.</p> + +<p>And Tresler was round at the door and standing in the shadow of the +water-barrel before the bolt was slipped back. Now, as the girl raised +the latch and silently opened the door, he slid within. He offered no +explanation, but simply pointed to the window.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p><p>“We must close that,” he said in a low tone.</p> + +<p>And Diane obeyed without demur. There was a quiet unobtrusive force +about this man whenever his actions were directed into a definite +channel. And Diane found herself complying without the least +resentment, or even doubt as to the necessity for his orders. Now she +came back to him, and raised a pair of trusting eyes to his face, and +he, looking down into them, thought he had never gazed upon anything +so sweetly pathetic; nor had he ever encountered anything quite so +rousing as the implicit trust of her manner toward him. Whatever he +had felt for her before, it was as nothing to the delicious sense of +protection, the indefinable wave of responsibility, almost parental, +that now swept over him. He felt that, come what might, she was his to +cherish, to guard, to pilot through whatever shoals her life might +hold for her. It was the effect of her simple womanly trust appealing +to his manhood, unconsciously for her part, but nevertheless surely. +Nor was that feeling only due to his love for her; it was largely the +chivalrous instinct of a brave and strong man for a weak woman that +filled his heart at that moment.</p> + +<p>“There is a lot for us to talk about,” he said. “A lot that others +mustn’t hear,” he added thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“What others?” Diane asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>Tresler deemed it best to avoid half measures, and answered with +prompt decision—</p> + +<p>“Your father, for one.”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said Diane, steadying at once, “we had better close the door +into the passage.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p><p>She suited the action to the word, and returned dry-eyed and calm.</p> + +<p>“My father?” Her question was sharp; it was a demand.</p> + +<p>Instead of answering her, Tresler pointed to the broken lamp on the +floor.</p> + +<p>“You have had an accident,” he said, and his blue eyes compelled hers, +and held them.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she said, after the least possible hesitation. Then, not +without a slight touch of resentment: “But you have not answered my +question.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll answer that later on. Let me go on in my own way.”</p> + +<p>The girl was impressed with the gravity of his manner. She felt uneasy +too. She felt how impossible it would be to hide anything from this +man, who, quiet yet kindly, could exercise so masterful an influence +over her. And there was a good deal just now she would have liked to +keep from him. While they were talking she drew the sleeves of her +dress down over her bruised wrists. Tresler saw the action and called +her attention to the blackened flesh she was endeavoring to hide.</p> + +<p>“Another accident?” he asked. And Diane kept silence. “Two accidents, +and—tears,” he went on, in so gentle a tone that fresh tears slowly +welled up into her eyes. “That is quite unlike you, Miss—Diane. One +moment. Let me look.” He reached out to take her hands, but she drew +away from him. He shrugged his shoulders. “I wonder if it were an +accident?” he said, his keen eyes searching her face. “It would be +strange to bruise both wrists by—accident.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p><p>The girl held silent for a while. It was evident that a struggle was +going on in her mind. Tresler watched. He saw the indecision. He knew +how sorely he was pressing his advantage. Yet he must do it, if he +would carry out his purpose. He felt that he was acting the brute, but +it was the only way. Every barrier must be swept aside. At last she +threw her head back with an impatient movement, and a slight flush of +anger tinged her cheeks.</p> + +<p>“And what if it were no accident?”</p> + +<p>“The bruises or the lamp?”</p> + +<p>“Both.”</p> + +<p>“Then”—and Tresler’s tone was keenly incisive—“it is the work of +some cruelly disposed person. You would not wilfully bruise yourself, +Diane,” he moved nearer to her, and his voice softened wonderfully; +“is there any real reason why you cannot trust me with the truth? May +I not share something of your troubles? See, I will save you the pain +of the telling. If I am right, do not answer me, and I shall +understand. Your father has been here, and it was his doing—these +things.”</p> + +<p>The anger had passed out of the girl’s face, and her eyes, troubled +enough but yielding, looked up into his.</p> + +<p>“But how do you——?”</p> + +<p>“Some one, we both know whom, has maliciously been talking to your +father,” Tresler went on, without heeding the interruption; “has been +lying to him to prejudice him against me—us. And your father has +accepted his tales without testing their veracity. Having done so, he +has spoken to you. What has passed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>between you I do not know, nor +shall I attempt to fathom. The result is more than sufficient for me. +You are unhappy; you have been unusually unhappy for days. You have +wept much, and now you bear signs of violence on your arms.”</p> + +<p>Diane averted her gaze, her head was bent, and her eyes were fixed +upon the broken lamp.</p> + +<p>“Shall I go on?” Tresler continued. “Shall I tell you the whole story? +Yes, I had better.”</p> + +<p>Diane nodded without looking at him.</p> + +<p>“You know most of it, but you may not have looked at it quite in the +same way that I do.” His tone was very low, there was a great depth of +earnestness in it. “We are all in the midst of a foul conspiracy, and +that conspiracy it is for us to break up. Your father is threatened. +You know it. And you are threatened with marriage to a rascal that +should be wiped off the face of the earth. And this is the work of one +man whom we believe to be the scourge of the countryside; whom we call +Red Mask or Jake Harnach, according to when and where we meet him. +Now, is this all to go on without protest? Will you submit? Is your +father to be victimized?”</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head.</p> + +<p>“No,” she said. Then with a sudden burst of passion she went on, only +keeping her voice low by the greatest effort. “But what can we do? I +have warned father. He has been told all that you have told me. He +laughed. And I grew angry. Then he grew angry, too. And—and these +things are the result. Oh, he hates you because he believes Jake’s +stories. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>And he scorns all my accusations against Jake, and treats me +worse than some silly, tattling servant girl. How can we do anything?”</p> + +<p>It was that last question that set fire to the powder-train. She had +coupled herself with him, and Tresler, seeking only the faintest +loophole, jumped at the opportunity it afforded him. His serious face +softened. A slow, gentle smile crept into his eyes, and Diane was held +by their caressing gaze.</p> + +<p>“We can do something. We are going to do something,” he said. “Not +singly, but together; you and I.”</p> + +<p>There was that in his manner that made the girl droop her eyelids. +There was a warmth, a light in his eyes he had never permitted her to +see before, and her woman’s instinct set her heart beating fast, so +fast that she trembled and fidgeted nervously.</p> + +<p>“Diane,” he went on, reaching out and quietly taking possession of one +of her hands, and raising it till the bared wrist displayed the cruel +bruise encircling it, “no man has a right to lay a hand upon a woman +to give her pain. A woman has a right to look to her men-folk to +protect her, and when they fail her, she is indeed in sore straits. +This,” touching the bruises with his finger, “is the work of your +father, the man of all who should protect you. You are sadly alone, so +much alone that I cannot see what will be the end of it—if it is +allowed to go on. Diane, I love you, and I want you, henceforward, to +let me be your protector. You will need some whole-hearted support in +the future. I can see it. And you can see it too. Say, tell <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>me, +little girl, fate has pitched us together in a stormy sea, surely it +is for me to aid you with all the loving care and help I can bestow. +Believe me, I am no idle boaster. I do not even say that my protection +will be worth as much as that of our faithful old Joe, but, such as it +is, it is yours, whether you take me with it or no, for as long as I +live.”</p> + +<p>Diane had had time to recover from her first embarrassment. She knew +that she loved this man; knew that she had done so almost from the +very first. He was so different from the men she had known about the +ranch. She understood, and acknowledged without shame, the feeling +that had prompted her first warning to him. She knew that ever since +his coming to the ranch he had hardly ever been out of her thoughts. +She had never attempted to deceive herself about him. All she had +feared was that she might, by some chance act, betray her feelings to +him, and so earn his everlasting contempt. She was very simple and +single-minded. She had known practically no association with her sex. +Her father, who had kept her a willing slave by his side all her life, +had seen to that. And so she had been thrown upon her own resources, +with the excellent result that she had grown up with a mind untainted +by any worldly thought. And now, when this man came to her with his +version of the old, old story, she knew no coquetry, knew how to +exercise no coyness or other blandishment. She made no pretense of any +sort. She loved him, so what else was there to do but to tell him so?</p> + +<p>“Joe has been my faithful protector for years, Mr. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>Tresler,” she +replied, her sweet round face blushing and smiling as she raised it to +him, “and I know his value and goodness. But—but I’d sooner have +you—ever so much.”</p> + +<p>And of her own accord she raised her other hand to his and placed it +trustfully within his only too willing clasp. But this was not +sufficient for Tresler. He reached out and took her in his powerful +arms and drew her to his breast. And when he released her there were +tears again in her eyes, but they were tears of happiness.</p> + +<p>“And now, sweetheart, we must be practical again,” he said. “If I am +to be your protector, I must not allow my inclination to interfere +with duty. Some day, when you are my wife, we shall be able to look +back on this time and be proud of our restraint. Just now it is hard. +It is a moment for kisses and happy dreams, and these things are +denied us——”</p> + +<p>He broke off and started as the flutter of the linen blind behind him +drew his attention.</p> + +<p>“I thought you shut the window,” he said sharply.</p> + +<p>“I thought I did; perhaps I didn’t quite close it.”</p> + +<p>Diane was about to move over to investigate, but Tresler restrained +her.</p> + +<p>“Wait.”</p> + +<p>He went instead. The window was open about six inches. He closed and +bolted it, and came back with a smile on his face that in no way +deceived the girl.</p> + +<p>“Yes, you left it open,” he said.</p> + +<p>And Diane’s reply was an unconvinced “Ah!”</p> + +<p>“Now let us be quick,” he went on. “Jake may <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>threaten and bully, but +he can do nothing to really hurt you. You are safe from him. For, +before anything can possibly happen—I mean to you—I shall be on hand +to help you. Joe is our watch-dog, asking his pardon. You can take +heart in the thought that you are no longer alone. But developments +are imminent, and I want you to watch your father closely, and +endeavor to ascertain Jake’s attitude toward him. This is my +fear—that Jake may put some nefarious scheme, as regards him, into +operation; such schemes as we cannot anticipate. He may even try to +silence me, or make me ineffective in some way before such time comes +along. He may adopt some way of getting rid of me——”</p> + +<p>“What way?” There was a world of fear and anxiety in Diane’s question, +and she drew up close to him as though she would protect him with her +own frail body.</p> + +<p>Tresler shrugged. “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter; I have my +plans arranged. The thing that is of more importance is the fact that +the night-riders are abroad again. I saw them on my way here. At the +same spot where I saw them before. This time I shall not conceal my +knowledge of the fact.”</p> + +<p>“You mean you will tell Jake—to his face?”</p> + +<p>Diane gave a little gasp, and her beautiful eyes fixed themselves +apprehensively upon his. They had in their depths a soft look of +admiration, in spite of her anxiety and fear. But Tresler saw nothing +of that. He took her question seriously.</p> + +<p>“Certainly; it is my only means of getting into line <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>of battle. By +this means I shall make myself the centre of open attack—if all our +surmises be true. It is getting late and I must go. I want to witness +the return of the ruffians.”</p> + +<p>A silence fell. The man had said it was time for him to go, but he +found it hard to tear himself away. He wanted to say so much to her; +he wanted to ask her so much. Diane, half shyly, came a step nearer to +him, and, though her face was smiling bravely, a pucker wrinkled her +brows.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Tresler——”</p> + +<p>“I was christened ‘John.’”</p> + +<p>“John, then.” The girl blushed faintly as she pronounced the name, +which, spoken by her, seemed to seal the bond between them. “Is it +absolutely necessary to tell Jake? Is it absolutely necessary to put +yourself in such peril? Couldn’t you——”</p> + +<p>But she got no further. Her lover’s arms were about her in an instant. +He caught her to him in a great embrace and kissed her pleading, +upturned face.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, yes, child. It is absolutely necessary. No, you can’t go +yet,” as she struggled feebly to free herself. “I ought to leave you +now, yet I can hardly tear myself away. I have heaps to ask you: about +yourself, your life, your father. I want to learn all there is in your +little head, in your heart, little girl. I want to make our bond of +love one of perfect sympathy and understanding of each other; of trust +and confidence. It is necessary. We come together here with +storm-clouds gathering on our horizon; with the storm actually +breaking. We come together under strange <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>and unusual circumstances, +and must fight for this love of ours. Ours will be no flower-strewn +path. This much I have fully realized; but it only makes me the more +determined to see it through quickly. We have to fight—good. We will +be early in the field. Now good-night, sweetheart. God bless you. +Trust to me. Whatever I do will be done after careful deliberation; +with a view to our common goal. If I am wrong, so much the worse. I +will do all that is given me to do. And, last, remember this. Should +anything happen to me, you have two friends who will never let Jake +marry you. They are Joe and Arizona. Now, good-bye again.”</p> + +<p>“But nothing will happen to you—Jack?”</p> + +<p>Every vestige of independence, every atom of the old self-reliance had +gone from the girl’s manner. She clung to him, timid, loving, a +gentle, weak woman. Her whole soul was in her appeal and the look she +bestowed.</p> + +<p>“I hope not. Courage, little woman. I remember the white dress, the +sad, dark little face beneath the straw sun-hat of the girl who knew +no fear when two men held thoughts of slaying each other, and were +almost in the act of putting them into execution. You must remember +her too.”</p> + +<p>“You are right, Jack. I will be brave and help you, if I can. +Good-bye.”</p> + +<p>They kissed once more, and Tresler hurried from the room with the +precipitancy of a man who can only hold to his purpose by an +ignominious flight from temptation.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p><p>Outside the door he paused, turned, and closed it carefully after him. +And then he listened intently. He had in no way been deceived by the +window business. He knew, as Diane knew, that she had closed it. Some +hand from outside had opened it; and he wondered whose had been the +hand, and what the purpose.</p> + +<p>When he passed out of the kitchen, the whole aspect of the night had +changed. There was not a star visible, and the only light to guide him +was that which shone through the window. He waited while Diane bolted +the door, then, as nothing appeared to cause him alarm, he moved off. +He had to pass round the shed where Joe slept. This was an addition to +the kitchen, and quite shut off from the house. He groped his way +along the wall of it till he came to the door, which stood open. He +was half inclined to go in and rouse the little choreman. He felt that +he would like to tell his old friend of his luck, his happiness. Then +it flashed through his mind that, seeing the door was open, Joe might +still be abroad. So he contented himself with listening for the sound +of his breathing. All was still within; his conjecture was right. Joe +had not yet turned in.</p> + +<p>He was puzzled. Where was Joe, and what was he doing at this hour of +the night?</p> + +<p>He moved on slowly now. His thoughts were fully occupied. He was not +the man to let a single detail pass without careful analysis. And the +matter was curious. Especially in conjunction with the fact of the +open window. He attributed no treachery to Joe, but <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>the thing wanted +explanation. He rounded the building, and as he did so understood the +change in the weather. A sharp gust of wind took him, and he felt +several drops of rain splash upon his face. A moment later a flash of +lightning preceded a distant rumble of thunder.</p> + +<p>He quickened his pace and drew out into the open, leaving the shadow +of the woods behind him as he turned toward the ranch buildings. The +light in the kitchen had been put out. Evidently Diane had already +gone to bed. He stepped out briskly, and a moment later another flash +of lightning revealed the window close beside him. He mechanically +stretched out a hand and felt along the sill. It was tightly closed +all right. A crash of thunder warned him of the quick-rising summer +storm that was upon him, and the rain was coming down with that +ominous solidity which portends a real, if brief, deluge. He started +at a run. A drenching at that hour was unpleasant to contemplate. He +had intended witnessing the return of the night-riders, but, under the +circumstances, that was now out of the question.</p> + +<p>He had only gone a few paces when he brought up to a stand. Even +amidst the noisy splashing of the rain, he thought he heard the sound +of running feet somewhere near by; so he stood listening with every +nerve straining. Then the promised deluge came and drowned every other +sound. It was no use waiting longer, so he hurried on toward his +quarters.</p> + +<p>A dozen strides further on and the sky was split from end to end with +a fork of lightning, and he was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>brought to a dead halt by the scene +it revealed. It was gone in an instant, and the thunder crashed right +above him. He had distinctly seen the figures of two men running. One +was running toward him, and, curiously enough, the other was running +from his left rear. And yet he had seen them both. Utterly heedless of +the rain now, he waited for another flash. There was something strange +doing, and he wished to fathom the mystery.</p> + +<p>The duration of the storm was only a matter of a few minutes. It +seemed to have spent itself in one flash of lightning and one peal of +thunder. The second flash was long in coming. But at last a hazy sheet +of white light shone for a second over the western sky, revealing the +ghostly shadow of a man coming at him, bearing in his upraised hand +some heavy weapon of offense. He leapt to avoid the blow. But he was +too late. The weapon descended, and, though he flung his arms to +protect himself, the darkness foiled him, and a crushing blow on the +head felled him to the ground. And as he fell some great noise roared +in his ears, or so it seemed, and echoed and reëchoed through his +head. Then he knew no more.</p> + +<p>All sound was lost in the deluge of rain. The sky was unrelieved by +any further flashes of light for many minutes. Then, at last, one +came. A weak, distant lighting up of the clouds, overhead, but it was +sufficient to show the outstretched form of the stricken man lying +with his white face staring up at the sky. Also it revealed a shadowy +figure bending over him. There was no face visible, no distinct +outline of form. And <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>this figure was moving, and appeared to be +testing the lifeless condition of the fallen man.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later the rain ceased, but the water was still racing +down the hill in little trickling rivulets toward the ranch buildings. +And as rapidly as the storm had come up so the sky cleared. Again the +stars shone out and a faint radiance dimly outlined the scene of the +attack.</p> + +<p>Within fifty yards of the rancher’s house Tresler was still stretched +out upon the ground, but now a different figure was bending over him. +It was a well-defined figure this time, a familiar figure. A little +man with a gray head and a twisted face.</p> + +<p>It was Joe Nelson trying, by every rough art his prairie life had +taught him, to restore animation and consciousness in his friend. For +a long time his efforts were unavailing; the task seemed hopeless. +Then, when the little man had begun to fear the very worst, his +patient suddenly moved and threw out his legs convulsively. Once the +springs of life had been set in motion, the hardy constitution +asserted itself, and, without further warning, Tresler sat bolt +upright and stared about him wonderingly. For a few seconds he sat +thus, then, with a movement of intense agony, one hand went up to his +head.</p> + +<p>“My God! What’s the matter with me? My head!”</p> + +<p>He slowly rocked himself for a brief spell; then, with another start, +he recognized his friend, and, with an effort, sprang to his feet.</p> + +<p>“Joe!” he cried. Then he reeled and would have fallen but for the +supporting arm about his waist.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p><p>“You wer’ nigh ‘done up.’ Say, I wus kind o’ rattled. I’d shaddered +that feller fer an hour or more, an’ then lost him. Gee!” And there +was an infinite expression of disgust in the exclamation.</p> + +<p>“Him! Who?”</p> + +<p>“Ther’s on’y one feller around here hatin’ you fit to murder, I +guess.”</p> + +<p>“You mean—Jake?” asked Tresler, in a queer tone.</p> + +<p>“Sure,” was the emphatic reply.</p> + +<p>“But, Joe, I saw the night-riders go out to-night. Not more than half +an hour before the storm came on.”</p> + +<p>The little man made no answer, but quietly urged his patient forward +in the direction of the bunkhouse.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE BEARDING OF JAKE</h3> + +<p>That night was one that lived long in Tresler’s memory. Weary in mind +and body, he was yet unable to sleep when at last he sought his bunk. +His head was racked with excruciating pain, which hammered through his +brain with every pulsation of his throbbing temples. But it was not +that alone which kept him awake. Thought ran riot with him, and his +mind flew from one scene to another without concentration, without +continuity, until he felt that if sleep did not come he must go mad.</p> + +<p>He had talked late into the night with his shrewd counselor, Joe; and +the net result of their talk was that all their theories, suspicions, +deductions, were wrong. Jake and Red Mask were not one and the same. +In all probability Jake had nothing to do with the ruffianly raider.</p> + +<p>They were driven to this ultimate conclusion by the simple fact that +while Tresler had been witnessing the movements of the masked +night-rider, Joe had been zealously dogging the footsteps of the +foreman in the general interests of his mistress. And that +individual’s footsteps had never once taken him to the rancher’s +private stable.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p><p>Jake had evidently been out on the spy himself. Of this Joe was +certain, for the man had scoured the woods in the direction of the +river; he had watched the trail from the rancher’s stable for nearly +half an hour; he had crept up to the verandah of the house under cover +of the darkness, seeking Joe knew not what, but always on the alert, +always with the unmistakable patience of a man by no means new to such +a task. Once Joe had missed him in the woods. Somehow, like a gigantic +shadow, Jake had contrived to give him the slip. And this, on +comparing notes, the two friends found coincided with the time of the +episode of the unclosed window. Doubtless he had been the author of +that matter. They made up their minds that he had witnessed the scene +in the kitchen, which, of course, accounted for his later dastardly +attack. Who had Jake been out looking for? What was the object of his +espionage? Had he been looking for him, Tresler, or some one else? And +herein lay the mystery. Herein, perhaps, lay the key to the greater +problem they sought to solve.</p> + +<p>Hour after hour Tresler lay awake, lost in a confusion of thought +which refused his best efforts to straighten out. The acuteness of the +pain in his head set his mind almost wandering. And he found himself +aimlessly reviewing the events since his coming to Mosquito Bend. He +tossed wearily, drearily, on his unyielding palliasse, driven to a +realization of his own utter impotence. What had he done in the cause +he had espoused? Nothing—simply nothing. Worse; he had thrust himself +like some clumsy, bull-headed elephant, into the girl’s life, into the +midst of her <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>troubles, without even that animal’s capacity for +attaining his object by sheer might. And the result was only to +aggravate her lot; to cause Jake to hasten his plans, and add threats +to his other persecutions. And as for the raiders, they were still at +large and no nearer capture than when he had first arrived. Yes, he +told himself, he had nothing but failure to his account. And that +failure, instead of being harmlessly negative, was an aggravation of +the situation.</p> + +<p>But at last, miserable, overwrought, and suffering as he was, sleep +came to him; a deep sleep that carried him far into the morning.</p> + +<p>He had been left undisturbed by his comrades when they turned out at +daybreak. Joe had seen to this. He had put them off with an invention +of his fertile imagination which satisfied them. Then, having hurried +through his own immediate morning duties, he waited, with that +philosophic patience which he applied now in his declining years to +all the greater issues of his life, for his friend’s awakening.</p> + +<p>And when Tresler awoke he was wonderfully refreshed. His recuperative +faculties were remarkable. The aching of his head had passed away, and +with it the deplorable hopelessness of overnight. He sat up on his +bunk, and the first object that his gaze fell upon was the patient +figure of old Joe.</p> + +<p>“Well—Scott! it’s late. What’s the time? Where are the boys? What are +you doing here?”</p> + +<p>He fired his questions rapidly. But Joe was not to be hurried; neither +was he going to waste precious time on unnecessary talk. So he +shrugged his shoulders <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>and indicated the departure of the men to work +with a backward jerk of his head, and, while Tresler performed his +brief toilet, got to business in his own way.</p> + +<p>“Feelin’ good?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Fair.”</p> + +<p>“Goin’ right up to see Jake?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Where is he?”</p> + +<p>“In his shack. Say,” the old man shifted uneasily, “I’ve tho’t a +crateful sence we wus yarnin’ last night, I guess. Don’t git shuvin’ +Jake too close agin the wall. Give him your yarn easy. Kind o’ talk +han’some by him. He’s goin’ to figger this thing out fer us. He’ll git +givin’ us a lead, mebbe, when he ain’t calc’latin’ to. Savee?”</p> + +<p>Tresler didn’t answer at once; in fact, he didn’t quite see the old +man’s point. He completed his toilet by buckling on his belt and +revolver. Then he prepared to depart.</p> + +<p>“We’ll see. I intend to be governed by circumstances,” he said +quietly.</p> + +<p>“Jest so. An’ circumstances has the way o’ governin’ most things, +anyways. Guess I’m jest astin’ you to rub the corners off’n them +circumstances so they’ll run smooth.”</p> + +<p>Tresler smiled at the manner of the old man’s advice, which was plain +enough this time.</p> + +<p>“I see. Well, so long.”</p> + +<p>He hurried out and Joe watched him go. Then the little man rose from +his seat and went out to Teddy Jinks’s kitchen on the pretense of +yarning. In reality <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>he knew that the foreman’s hut was in full view +from the kitchen window.</p> + +<p>Tresler walked briskly across to the hut. He never in his life felt +more ready to meet Jake than he did at this moment. He depended on the +outcome of this interview for the whole of his future course. He did +not attempt to calculate the possible result. He felt that to do so +would be to cramp his procedure. He meant to work on his knowledge of +his rival’s character. Herein lay his hopes of success. It was Joe who +had given him his cue. “It’s the most dangerousest thing to hit a +‘rattler’ till you’ve got him good an’ riled,” the little man had once +said. “Then he lifts an’ it’s dead easy, I guess. Hit him lyin’, an’ +ef you don’t kill him, ther’s goin’ to be trouble. Them critters has a +way of thinkin’ hard an’ quick or’nary.” And Tresler meant to deal +with Jake in a similar manner. The rest must be left to the +circumstances they had discussed.</p> + +<p>It so happened that Jake, too, was late abed that morning. Tresler +found him just finishing the breakfast Jinks had brought him. Jake’s +surly “Come in,” in response to his knock, brought him face to face +with the last man he desired to see in his hut at that moment. And +Tresler almost laughed aloud as the great man sprang from the table, +nearly overturning it in his angry haste.</p> + +<p>“It’s all right, Jake,” he said with a smile, “I come in peace.”</p> + +<p>And the other stood for a moment eyeing him fiercely, yet not knowing +quite how to take him. Without waiting for an invitation his visitor +seated <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>himself on the end of the bunk and stared back squarely into +the angry face. It did him good, as he remembered the events of the +night before, to thus beard this man who hated him to the point of +murder.</p> + +<p>He waited for Jake to reply; and while his gaze wandered over the +cruel, intolerant, overbearing face he found himself speculating as to +the caste of that which lay hidden beneath the black, coarse mat of +beard.</p> + +<p>At last the reply came, and he had expected no better.</p> + +<p>“What in h—— are you doin’ here?” Jake asked brutally. Then, as an +afterthought, “Why ain’t you out on the range?”</p> + +<p>Tresler permitted himself to lounge over on his elbow and cross his +legs with an aggravating air of ease.</p> + +<p>“For much the same reason that you are only just finishing your grub. +I overslept myself.”</p> + +<p>And he watched Jake choke back the furious retort that suddenly leapt +to his lips. It was evident, even to the intolerant disposition of the +foreman, that it was no time for abuse and anger. This man had come to +him for some particular purpose, and it behooved him to keep guard on +himself. The doings of the night before were in his mind, and he +realized that it would be well to meet him coolly. Therefore, instead +of the outburst so natural to him, he contented himself with a cool +survey of his antagonist, while he put a non-committing inquiry.</p> + +<p>“Wal?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p><p>And Tresler knew that his presence was accepted, and that he had +scored the first point. At once he assumed a businesslike air. He sat +up and generally displayed a briskness quite out of keeping with his +former attitude.</p> + +<p>“I suppose I ought to apologize for my intrusion,” he began, “but when +you have heard my story, you will understand its necessity. I had a +busy night last night.”</p> + +<p>If he had expected any effect from this announcement he was +disappointed. Jake’s face never for a moment relaxed its grim look of +attention.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he went on, as the foreman remained silent. “These +raiders—this Red Mask, or whatever he is called—I saw him last +night. I saw him here on this ranch.”</p> + +<p>Jake stirred. He eyed his companion as though he would read him +through and through.</p> + +<p>“You saw—Red Mask—last night?” he said slowly.</p> + +<p>“Yes. I saw him and one of his satellites.”</p> + +<p>“Go on.” It was all the man vouchsafed, but it spoke volumes.</p> + +<p>And Tresler at once proceeded with his story of the midnight visit of +the masked rider and his companion. He told his story in as few words +as possible, being careful to omit nothing, and laying a slight stress +on his own rambling in the neighborhood of the house. He was very +careful to confine himself to the matter of the apparition, avoiding +all allusion to the further happenings of the night. When he had +finished, which <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>he did without any interruption from the other, Jake +spoke with quiet appreciation.</p> + +<p>“An’ you’ve brought the yarn to me. For any partic’lar reason?”</p> + +<p>Tresler raised his eyebrows. “Certainly,” he replied. “You are foreman +of the ranch. Mr. Marbolt’s interests are yours.”</p> + +<p>“That being so, I’d like to know what you were doing around the house +at that hour of the night?” was Jake’s prompt retort.</p> + +<p>Tresler had looked for this. He knew perfectly well that Jake did not +expect his question to be answered. Didn’t particularly want it +answered. It was simply to serve a purpose. He was trying to draw him.</p> + +<p>“That is my affair, Jake. For the moment, at least, let us set +personalities on one side. No doubt we have accounts to settle. I may +as well say at once we are in each other’s debt. But this matter I am +speaking of is of personal interest to everybody around the district.”</p> + +<p>All the time he was speaking, Tresler was watching for the smallest +change in Jake’s manner. And as he went on his appreciation of the +fellow’s capability rose. He realized that Jake was, after all, +something more than a mass of beef and muscle. As no comment was +forthcoming he went on rapidly.</p> + +<p>“Now, last night’s apparition was not altogether new to me. I saw the +same thing the first night I arrived on the ranch, but, being ‘green’ +at the time, it lost its significance. Now, it is different. It needs +explaining. So I have come to you. But I have not come to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>you without +having considered the matter as fully as it is possible for one in my +position to do. Mark me carefully. I have weighed all the details of +Red Mask’s raids; considered them from all points. Time and place, +distance, the apparitions around the ranch, for those ghostly visitors +have, at times, been seen in the neighborhood by others. And all these +things so tally that they have produced a conviction in my mind that +there is a prime mover in the business to be found on this ranch.”</p> + +<p>“An’ the prime mover?” Jake’s interest had in no way relaxed. He +seemed to be eager to hear everything Tresler could tell him. The +latter shrugged.</p> + +<p>“Who is there on this ranch that cannot at all times be accounted for? +Only one man. Anton—Black Anton.”</p> + +<p>A pause ensued. Tresler had played a high card. If Jake refused to be +drawn it would be awkward. The pause seemed endless and he was forced +to provoke an answer.</p> + +<p>“Well?” he questioned sharply.</p> + +<p>“Well,” echoed the foreman; and the other noted the quiet derision in +his tone, “seems to me you’ve done a deal of figgering.”</p> + +<p>Tresler nodded.</p> + +<p>Jake turned away with something very like a smile. Evidently he had +decided upon the course to be pursued. Tresler, watching him, could +not quite make up his mind whether he was playing the winning hand, or +whether his opponent was finessing for the odd trick. Jake suddenly +became expansive.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p><p>“I’d like to know how we’re standin’ before we go further,” he said; +“though, mind you, I ain’t asking. I tell you candidly I ain’t got no +use for you, and I guess it would take a microscope to see your +affection for me. This bein’ so, I ask myself, what has this feller +come around with his yarn to me for? I allow there’s two possible +reasons which strike me as bein’ of any consequence. One is that, +maybe, some’eres in the back of your head, you’ve a notion that I know +a heap about this racket, and sort o’ wink at it, seein’ Marbolt’s +blind, an’ draw a bit out of the game. And the other is, you’re +honest, an’ tryin’ to play the game right. Now, I’ll ask you not to +get plumb scared when I tell you I think you’re dead honest about this +thing. If I didn’t—wal, maybe you’d be lit out of this shack by now.”</p> + +<p>Jake reached over to the table and picked up a plug of tobacco and +tore off a chew with his great strong teeth. And Tresler could not +help marveling at the pincher-like power with which he bit through the +plug.</p> + +<p>“Now, Tresler, there’s that between us that can never let us be +friends. I’m goin’ to get level with you some day. But just now, as +you said, we can let things bide. I say you’re honest in this thing, +and if you choose to be honest with me I’ll be honest with you.”</p> + +<p>One word flashed through Tresler’s brain: “finesse.”</p> + +<p>“I’m glad you think that way, Jake,” he said seriously. “My object is +to get to the bottom of this matter.”</p> + +<p>It was a neat play in the game, the way in which <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>these two smoothed +each other down. They accepted each other’s assurances with the +suavity of practiced lawyers, each without an atom of credence or good +faith.</p> + +<p>“Just so,” Jake responded, with a ludicrous attempt at benignity. “An’ +it’s due to the fact that you’ve been smart enough to light on the +right trail, that I’m ready to tell you something I’ve been holding up +from everybody, even Marbolt himself. Mind, I haven’t got the dead-gut +cinch on these folk yet, though I’m right on to ’em, sure. Anton, +that’s the feller. I’ve tracked him from the other side of the line. +His real name’s ‘Tough’ McCulloch, an’ I guess I know as much as there +is to be known of him an’ his history, which is pretty rotten. He’s +wanted in Alberta for murder. Not one, but half a dozen. Say, shall I +tell you what he’s doin’? He rides out of here at night, an’ joins a +gang of scallywag Breeds, like himself, an’ they are the crowd that +have been raiding all around us. And Anton—well, I’d like to gamble +my last dollar he’s the fellow wearing the Red Mask. Say, I knew he +was out last night. He was out with two of the horses. I was around. +An’ at daylight I went up to the stable while he was sleepin’, an’ the +dog-gone fool hadn’t cleaned the saddle marks from their backs. Now, +if you’re feeling like bearin’ a hand in lagging this black +son-of-a—— I’m with you fair an’ square. We won’t shake hands, for +good reasons, but your word’ll go with me.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing would suit me better.”</p> + +<p>Tresler was struggling to fathom the man’s object.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p><p>“Good. Now we’ll quietly go up to the stable. Maybe you can tell if a +horse has been recently saddled, even after grooming?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll show you. An’ mind, Marbolt hasn’t ordered one of his +private horses out. Nor ain’t Miss Diane. It’s Anton.”</p> + +<p>He rose and prepared to depart, but Tresler stayed him.</p> + +<p>“One moment, Jake,” he said. “I don’t wish to give offense, but tell +me why, if you have discovered so much about Anton, have you let these +things go on so long? Think of the murder of Manson Orr, of Arizona’s +wound, of the dozen and one outrages of which even I am aware.”</p> + +<p>Jake stood silently contemplating him for a while. Nor was there any +sign of his swift anger. He smiled faintly, and again Tresler noted +the nasty tone of derision in his voice when he answered.</p> + +<p>“I thought maybe you’d learnt a deal out here where you find everybody +on their own. I thought you’d p’r’aps learned that it ain’t wise to +raise trouble till you’ve got the business end of your gun pointin’ +right. Can’t you see there’s not a cent’s worth of evidence against +the man yet? Have you ever heard where he runs his cattle? Has +anybody? Has any one ever seen under that mask? Has any one been found +who could identify even his figure? No. Red Mask is a will-o’-the-wisp. +He’s a ghost; and it’s our business to find the body o’ that ghost. +I’m not the fool to go around to Anton and say, ‘You <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>are Red Mask.’ +He’d laugh in my face. An’ later on I guess I’d be targettin’ a shot +for him. What if I rounded to the gove’nor an’ got him fired? It would +be the worst possible. Keepin’ him here, and lying low, we have a +chance of puttin’ him out of business. No, sir, we’re dealin’ with the +smartest crook west of Chicago. But I’ll have him; we’ll get him. I +never was bested yet. An’ I’ll have him, same as I get any other guy +that crosses me. Let’s get on.”</p> + +<p>They moved out of the hut.</p> + +<p>“It’s been taking you some time, already,” Tresler suggested with a +smile, as they moved across the open.</p> + +<p>Jake took no umbrage. His dark face responded with a sardonic grin, +and his eyes were fiercely alight.</p> + +<p>“Tchah!” he ejaculated impatiently. “Say, you never heard tell of a +feller gettin’ his own good, an’ gettin’ it quick. Cattle-thieves +ain’t easy handlin’, an’ I don’t jump till I’m riled.”</p> + +<p>Tresler made no answer, and the two reached the stable without +exchanging another word. Inside they found Anton at work, cleaning +harness. He looked up as they came in, and Tresler eyed him with a +renewed interest. And the man’s face was worth studying. There was no +smile, no light in it, and even very little interest. His smooth, +tawny skin and aquiline features, his black hair and blacker eyes, in +their dark setting, had a devilish look to Tresler’s imagination. He +even found himself wondering where the good looks he had observed when +they met before had vanished to. Jake nodded to him and passed into +Bessie’s stall at once.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p><p>“This is the mare, Tresler, the dandiest thing ever bred on this +ranch. Look at her points. See the coat, its color. Red roan, with +legs as black as soot. Say, she’s a picture. Now I guess she’d fetch a +couple of hundred dollars away down east where you come from.”</p> + +<p>He said all this for Anton’s benefit while he smoothed his hand over +Bessie’s back. Tresler followed suit, feeling for the impression of +the saddle-cloth in the hair. It was there, and he went on inspecting +the legs, with the air of a connoisseur. The other saddle-horse they +treated in the same way, but the drivers were left alone. For some +minutes they stood discussing the two animals and then passed out +again. Anton had displayed not the least interest in their doings, +although nothing had escaped his keen, swift-moving eyes.</p> + +<p>Once out of ear-shot Jake turned to Tresler.</p> + +<p>“Wal?”</p> + +<p>“The horses have both been saddled.”</p> + +<p>“Good. Now we’ve got the thing plumb located. You heard them gassin’ +at the stable. You heard ’em slam the door. You saw the two come +along. An’ one of ’em must have been Anton. Leastways he must have let +’em have the hosses. I guess that’s an alternative. I say Anton was up +on one of them hosses, an’ the other was some gorl durned Breed mate +of his. Good. We’re goin’ right on to see the governor.”</p> + +<p>“What to do?” asked Tresler.</p> + +<p>“To give him your yarn,” Jake said shortly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p><p>They were half-way to the house when the foreman suddenly halted and +stared out over the lower ranch buildings at the distant pastures. +Tresler was slightly behind him as he stood, and only had a sight of +the man’s profile. He did not seem to be looking at any particular +object. His attitude was one of thoughtful introspection. Tresler +waited. Things were turning out better than he had hoped, and he had +no wish but to let the arbiter of the situation take his own way. He +began to think that, whatever Jake’s ulterior object might be, he was +in earnest about Anton.</p> + +<p>At last his companion grunted and turned, and he saw at once that the +artificial comradeship of his manner had lifted, and the “Jake” he had +already learned to understand was dominant again. He saw the vicious +setting of the brows, the fiery eyes. He quite understood that +self-control was the weakest side of this man’s character, and could +not long withstand the more powerful bullying nature that swayed him.</p> + +<p>“I asked you a question back there,” he said, jerking his head in the +direction of his hut, “an’ you said it was your affair; an’ we’d best +let personalities stand for the moment. I’d like an answer before we +go further. You reckon to be honest, I guess. Wal, now’s your chance. +Tell me to my face what I’ve learned for myself. What were you doin’ +round here last night? What were you doin’ in Marbolt’s kitchen?”</p> + +<p>Tresler understood the motive of the man’s insistence now. Jake was +showing him a side of his character he had hardly suspected. It was +the human nature <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>in the man asking for a confirmation of his worst +fears, in reality his worst knowledge. For he was well aware that Jake +had witnessed the scene in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>“As I said before, it is my affair,” he responded, with an assumption +of indifference. “Still, since you insist, you may as well know first +as last. I went to see Miss Diane. I saw her——”</p> + +<p>“An’?” There was a tense restraint in the monosyllable.</p> + +<p>Tresler shrugged. “Miss Marbolt is my promised wife.”</p> + +<p>There was a deathly silence after his announcement. Tresler looked out +over the ranch. He seemed to see everything about him at once; even +Jake was in the strained focus, although he was not looking at him. +His nerves were strung, and seemed as though they were held in a vice. +He thought he could even hear the sound of his own temples beating. He +had no fear, but he was expectant.</p> + +<p>Then Jake broke the silence, and his voice, though harsh, was low; it +was muffled with a throatiness caused by the passion that moved him.</p> + +<p>“You’ll never marry that gal,” he said.</p> + +<p>And Tresler was round on him in an instant, and his face was alight +with a cold smile.</p> + +<p>“I will,” he said.</p> + +<p>And then Jake moved on with something very like a rush. And Tresler +followed. His smile was still upon his face. But it was there of its +own accord, a nervous mask which had nothing to do with the thoughts +passing behind it.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>A PORTENTOUS INTERVIEW</h3> + +<p>Tresler was in no way blind to the quality of the armistice that had +been arranged between himself and Jake. He knew full well that that +peaceful interim would be used by Jake to raise earthworks of the +earthiest kind, and to train his guns with deadly accuracy upon his +enemy. Well, so he wanted. His purpose was to draw his adversary’s +fire directly upon himself. As he had said, to do anything to help the +girl he loved, he must himself be in the fighting line. And from the +moment of his doubtful compact with Jake he felt that he was not only +in the fighting line, but that, if all he had heard on the subject of +Red Mask was true, he would become the centre of attack. There was a +pleasant feeling of excitement and uncertainty in his position, and he +followed Jake all the more eagerly to the presence of the rancher, +only wondering in what manner the forthcoming interview was to affect +matters.</p> + +<p>Julian Marbolt had not left his bedroom when they arrived at the +house. Diane, looking a little anxious when she saw these two +together, showed them into her father’s office. She was half disposed +to refuse Jake’s request that she should summon the blind man, but a +smiling nod from Tresler decided her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p><p>“Very well, Jake,” she replied coldly. “You won’t best please father +unless the matter is important.” This was said merely to conceal her +real knowledge of the object of the visit.</p> + +<p>If Jake understood he gave no sign. But he had seen and resented the +silent assurance Tresler had given her. His angry eyes watched her as +she went off; and as she disappeared he turned to his companion, who +had seated himself by the window.</p> + +<p>“Guess you ain’t figgered on the ‘old man’ ’bout her?” he said.</p> + +<p>“That, I think, is strictly my affair,” Tresler replied coldly.</p> + +<p>Jake laughed, and sat down near the door. The answer had no effect on +him.</p> + +<p>“Say, I guess you ain’t never had a cyclone hit you?” he asked +maliciously. “It’ll be interestin’ to see when you tell him. +Maybe——”</p> + +<p>Whatever he was about to say was cut short by the approach of the +rancher. And it was wonderful the change that came over the man as he +sat listening to the tap-tap of the blind man’s stick in the passage. +He watched the door uneasily, and there was a short breathless +attention about him. Tresler, watching, could not help thinking of the +approach of some Eastern potentate, with his waiting courtiers and +subjects rubbing their faces in the dust lest his wrath should be +visited upon them. He admitted that Jake’s attitude just now was his +true one.</p> + +<p>At the door Julian Marbolt stood for a moment, doing by means of his +wonderful hearing what his eyes <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>failed to do for him. And the marvel +of it was that he faced accurately, first toward Tresler, then toward +Jake. He stood like some tall, ascetic, gray-headed priest, garbed in +a dressing-gown that needed but little imagination to convert into a +cassock. And the picture of benevolence he made was only marred by the +staring of his dreadful eyes.</p> + +<p>“Well, Jake?” he said, in subdued, gentle tones. “What trouble has +brought you round here at this hour?”</p> + +<p>“Trouble enough,” Jake responded, with a slight laugh. “Tresler here +brings it, though.”</p> + +<p>The blind man turned toward the window and instinctively focussed the +younger man, and somehow Tresler shivered as with a cold draught when +the sightless eyes fixed themselves upon him.</p> + +<p>“Ah, you Tresler. Well, we’ll hear all about it.” Marbolt moved +slowly, though without the aid of his stick now, over to the table, +and seated himself.</p> + +<p>“It’s the old trouble,” said Jake, when his master had settled +himself. “The cattle ‘duffers.’ They’re gettin’ busy—busy around this +ranch again.”</p> + +<p>“Well?” Marbolt turned to Tresler; his action was a decided snub to +Jake.</p> + +<p>Tresler took his cue and began his story. He told it almost exactly as +he had told it to Jake, but with one slight difference: he gave no +undue emphasis to his presence in the vicinity of the house. And +Marbolt listened closely, the frowning brows bespeaking his +concentration, and his unmoving eyes his fixed attention. He listened +apparently unmoved to every detail, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>and displayed a wonderful +patience while Tresler went point for point over his arguments in +favor of his suspicions of Anton. Once only he permitted his sightless +glance to pass in Jake’s direction, and that was at the linking of the +foreman’s name with Tresler’s suspicions. As his story came to an end +the blind man rested one elbow on the table, and propped his chin upon +his hand. The other hand coming into contact with a ruler lying +adjacent, he picked it up and thoughtfully tapped the table, while the +two men waited for him to speak.</p> + +<p>At last he turned toward his foreman, and, with an impressive gesture, +indicated Tresler.</p> + +<p>“This story is nothing new to us, Jake,” he said. Then for a moment +his voice dropped, and took on a pained tone. “I only wish it were; +then we could afford to laugh at it. No, there can be no laughing +here. Past experience has taught us that. It is a matter of the +greatest seriousness—danger. So much for the main features. But there +are side issues, suspicions you have formed,” turning back to Tresler, +“which I cannot altogether accept. Mind, I do not say flatly that you +are wrong, but I cannot accept them without question.</p> + +<p>“Jake here has had suspicions of Anton. I know that, though he has +never asserted them to me in so direct a fashion as apparently he has +to you.” He paused: then he went on in an introspective manner. “I am +getting on in years. I have already had a good innings right here on +this ranch. I have watched the country develop. I have seen the +settlers come, sow <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>the seeds of their homesteads and small ranches, +and watched the crop grow. I have rented them grazing. I have sold +them stock. I have made money, and they have made money, and the +country has prospered. It is good to see these things; good for me, +especially, for I was the first here. I have been lord of the land, +and Jake my lieutenant. The old Indian days have gone, and I have +looked for nothing but peace and prosperity. I wanted prosperity, for +I admit I love it. I am a business man, and I do everything in +connection with this ranch on a sound business basis. Not like many of +those about me. In short, I am here to make money. And why not? I own +the land.”</p> + +<p>The last was said as though in argument. Tresler could not help being +struck by the manner in which he alluded to the making of money. There +was an air of the miser about him when he spoke of it, a hardness +about the mouth which the close-trimmed beard made no pretense of +concealing. And there was a world of arrogance in the way he said, “I +own the land.” However, he was given no time for further observation, +for Marbolt seemed to realize his own digression and came back +abruptly to the object of his discourse.</p> + +<p>“Then this spectre, Red Mask, comes along. He moves with the mystery +of the Wandering Jew, and, like that imaginary person, scourges the +country wherever he goes, only in a different manner. Anton had been +with me three years when this raider appeared. Since then there have +been no less than twenty-eight robberies, accompanied more or less by +manslaughter.” He became more animated and leaned forward in his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>chair, pointing the ruler he still held in his hand at Tresler as he +named the figures. His red eyes seemed to stare harder and his heavy +brows to knit more closely across his forehead. “Yes,” he reiterated, +“twenty-eight robberies. And I, with others, have estimated the number +and value of stock that has been lost to this scoundrel. In round +figures five thousand head of cattle, one hundred and fifty thousand +dollars, whisked away, spirited out of this district alone in the +course of a few years. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars; one +hundred and fifty thousand,” he mouthed the words as though he +delighted in the sound of so large a sum of money. Then his whole +manner changed. A fiend could not have looked more vicious. “And in +all I have lost five hundred beeves to him. Five hundred,” he cried, +his voice high-pitched in his anger, “fifteen thousand dollars, +besides horses, and—and some of my men wounded, even killed.”</p> + +<p>Again he ceased speaking, and relapsed into a brooding attitude. And +the two men watched him. His personality fascinated Tresler. He even +began to understand something of the general fear he inspired. He +thought of Jake who had been so many years with him, and he thought he +understood something of the condition he must inspire in any one of no +great moral strength who remained with him long. Then he thought of +Diane, and moved uneasily. He remembered Jake’s allusion to a cyclone.</p> + +<p>At Tresler’s movement the blind man roused at once and proceeded with +his story.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p><p>“And he roams this country at large, unchecked, unopposed. Working his +will whithersoever he fancies, unseen, unknown but for his sobriquet. +And you claim he and Anton are one. This great man—for in his way he +is great, head and shoulders above all other criminals, by reason of +the extent of his exploits. Pshaw!”—his tone was scoffing—“let me +tell you, on three different nights when this monster was abroad, +carrying destruction in his path, Anton was driving me. Or, at least, +was with me, having driven me into Forks on one occasion, and twice in +the neighborhood of Whitewater. No, I am aware that Anton is a +black-leg, or has been one, but he has served me well and truly since +he has been my servant. As for the saddle-marks,” he leaned back in +his chair and his gentle smile returned slowly to his face. “No, no, +Tresler, that is insufficient. Remember, Anton is a Breed, a young +man, and, as Breeds go, good-looking. There is a Breed camp in the +neighborhood where they indulge in all the puskies and orgies native +to them. We must question him. I expect he has taken French leave with +my horses.”</p> + +<p>“But you forget the Breed camp has gone,” put in Jake quickly. “Since +the comin’ of the sheriff and his men to Forks they’ve cleared out, +and, as yet, we ain’t located ’em. I expect it’s the hills.”</p> + +<p>“Just so, Jake,” replied Marbolt, turning to the foreman coldly. “I +forgot that you told me of it before. But that makes little +difference. I have no doubt Anton knows where they are. Now,” he went +on, turning again to Tresler, “I hold no brief for Anton in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>particular. If I thought for a moment it were so,” a sudden storm of +vindictiveness leapt into his tone, “I would hound him down, and be +near while they hung him slowly to death on one of our own trees. I +would willingly stand by while he was put to the worst possible +tortures, and revel in his cries of agony. Don’t mistake me. If you +could prove Anton to be the rascal, he should die, whatever the +consequences. We would wait for no law. But you are all on the wrong +trail, I feel sure.”</p> + +<p>He had dropped back into his old soft-spoken manner, and Tresler felt +like hating him for the vileness of the nature he displayed.</p> + +<p>“You plead well for Anton, Mr. Marbolt,” he could not help saying, +“but after what I heard last night, I cannot believe he is not in +league with these people.”</p> + +<p>It was an unfortunate remark, and brought the biting answer that might +have been expected.</p> + +<p>“I plead for no man, Tresler. Most certainly not for a Breed. I show +you where you are wrong. Your inexperience is lamentable, but you +cannot help it.” He paused, but went on again almost at once. “Since I +cannot persuade you, go with your story to the sheriff. Let him judge +of your evidence, and if a man of Fyles’s undoubted skill and +shrewdness acts upon it, I’ll pay you one hundred dollars.”</p> + +<p>Tresler saw the force of the other’s reply, but resented the tone, +while he still remained utterly unconvinced of Anton’s innocence. +Perhaps the blind man realized his unnecessary harshness, for he +quickly veered round again to his low-voiced benignity. And <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>Jake, +interested but silent, sat watching his master with an inscrutable +look in his bold eyes and a half smile on his hard face.</p> + +<p>“No, Tresler,” he said, “we can set all that part of it on one side. +You did quite right to come to me, though,” he added hastily; “I thank +you heartily. From past experience we have learned that your +apparition means mischief. It means that a raiding expedition is +afoot. Maybe it was committed last night. I suppose,” turning to Jake, +“you have not heard?”</p> + +<p>“No.” Jake shook his head.</p> + +<p>“Well, we are forewarned, thanks to you, Tresler,” the other went on +gravely. “And it shan’t be my fault if we are not forearmed. We must +send a warning round to the nearest homesteads. I really don’t know +what will happen if this goes on much longer.”</p> + +<p>“Why not take concerted action? Why not resort to what was recently +suggested—a vigilance party?” Tresler put in quickly.</p> + +<p>The other shook his head and turned to Jake for support. But none was +forthcoming. Jake was watching that strong sightless face, gazing into +it with a look of bitter hatred and sinister intentness. This change +so astonished Tresler that he paid no attention to the rancher’s +reply.</p> + +<p>And at once Marbolt’s peculiar instinct asserted itself. He faced from +one to the other with a perplexed frown, and as his red eyes fell +finally upon the foreman, that individual’s whole expression was +instantly transformed to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>one of confusion. And Tresler could not help +calling to mind the schoolboy detected in some misdemeanor. At first +the confusion, then the attempt at bland innocence, followed by dogged +sullenness. It was evident that Jake’s conscience blinded him to the +fact of the other’s sightless gaze.</p> + +<p>“What say you, Jake? We can only leave it to the sheriff and be on our +guard.”</p> + +<p>The foreman fumbled out his reply almost too eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said, “sure; we must be on our guard. Guess we’d better send +out night guards to the different stations.” He stretched himself with +an assumption of ease. Then suddenly he sat bolt upright and a +peculiar expression came into his eyes. Tresler detected the half +smile and the side glance in his own direction. “Yes,” he went on, +composedly enough now, “partic’larly Willow Bluff.”</p> + +<p>“Why Willow Bluff?” asked the rancher, with some perplexity.</p> + +<p>“Why? Why? Because we’re waitin’ to ship them two hundred beeves to +the coast. They’re sold, you remember, an’ ther’s only them two +Breeds, Jim an’ Lag Henderson, in charge of ’em. Why, it ’ud be pie, a +dead soft snap fer Red Mask’s gang. An’ the station’s that lonesome. +All o’ twenty mile from here.”</p> + +<p>Julian Marbolt sat thinking for a moment. “Yes, you’re right,” he +agreed at last. “We’ll send out extra night guards. And you’d best +detail two good, reliable men for a few days at Willow Bluff. Only +thoroughly reliable men, mind. You see to it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p><p>Jake turned to Tresler at once, his face beaming with a malicious +grin. And the latter understood. But he was not prepared for the +skilful trap which his archenemy was baiting for him, and into which +he was to promptly fall.</p> + +<p>“How’d it suit you, Tresler?” he asked. Then without waiting for a +reply he went on, “But ther’, I guess it wouldn’t do sendin’ you. You +ain’t the sort to get scrappin’ hoss thieves. It wants grit. It’s +tough work an’ needs tough men. Pshaw!”</p> + +<p>Tresler’s blood was up in a moment. He forgot discretion and +everything else under the taunt.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know that it wouldn’t do, Jake,” he retorted promptly. “It +seems to me your remarks come badly from a man who has reason to +know—to remember—that I am capable of holding my own with most men, +even those big enough to eat me.”</p> + +<p>He saw his blunder even while he was speaking. But he was red-hot with +indignation and didn’t care a jot for the consequences. And Jake came +at him. If the foreman’s taunt had roused him, it was nothing to the +effect of his reply. Jake crossed the room in a couple of strides and +his furious face was thrust close into Tresler’s, and, in a voice +hoarse with passion, he fairly gasped at him—</p> + +<p>“I ain’t fergot. An’ by G——”</p> + +<p>But he got no further. A movement on the part of the rancher +interrupted him. Before he realized what was happening the blind man +was at his side with a grip on his arm that made him wince.</p> + +<p>“Stop it!” he cried fiercely. “Stop it, you fool! <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>Another word and, +blind as I am, I’ll——” Jake struggled to release himself, but +Marbolt held him with almost superhuman strength and slowly backed him +from his intended victim. “Back! Do you hear? I’ll have no murder done +in here—unless I do it myself. Get back—back, blast you!” And Jake +was slowly, in spite of his continued struggles, thrust against the +wall. And then, as he still resisted, Marbolt pushed the muzzle of a +revolver against his face. “I’ll drop you like a hog, if you +don’t——”</p> + +<p>But the compelling weapon had instant effect, and the foreman’s +resistance died out weakly.</p> + +<p>The whole scene had occurred so swiftly that Tresler simply stood +aghast. The agility, the wonderful sureness and rapidity of movement +on Marbolt’s part were staggering. The whole thing seemed impossible, +and yet he had seen it; and the meaning of the stories of this man he +had listened to came home to him. He was, indeed, something to fear. +The great bullying Jake was a child in his hands. Now like a whipped +child, he stood with his back to the wall, a picture of hate and fury.</p> + +<p>With Jake silenced Marbolt turned on him. His words were few but +sufficient.</p> + +<p>“And as for you, Tresler,” he said coldly, “keep that tongue of yours +easy. I am master here.”</p> + +<p>There was a brief silence, then the rancher returned to the subject +that had caused the struggle.</p> + +<p>“Well, what about the men for Willow Bluff, Jake?”</p> + +<p>It was Tresler who answered the question, and without a moment’s +hesitation.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p><p>“I should like to go out there, Mr. Marbolt. Especially if there’s +likely to be trouble.”</p> + +<p>It was the only position possible for him after what had gone before, +and he knew it. He glanced at Jake and saw that, for the moment at +least, his hatred for his employer had been set aside. He was smiling +a sort of tigerish smile.</p> + +<p>“Very well, Tresler,” responded the rancher. “And you can choose your +own companion. You can go and get ready. Jake,” turning to the other, +“I want to talk to you.”</p> + +<p>Tresler went out, feeling that he had made a mess of things. He gave +Jake credit for his cleverness, quite appreciating the undying hate +that prompted it. But the thing that was most prominent in his +thoughts was the display the blind man had given him. He smiled when +he thought of Jake’s boasted threats to Diane; how impotent they +seemed now. But the smile died out when he remembered he, himself, had +yet to face the rancher on the delicate subject of his daughter. He +remembered only too well Jake’s reference to a cyclone, and he made +his way to the bunkhouse with no very enlivening thoughts.</p> + +<p>In the meantime the two men he had just left remained silent until the +sound of his footsteps had quite died out. Then Marbolt spoke.</p> + +<p>“Jake, you are a damned idiot!” he said abruptly.</p> + +<p>The foreman made no answer and the other went on.</p> + +<p>“Why can’t you leave the boy alone? He’s harmless; besides he’s useful +to me—to us.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p><p>“Harmless—useful?” Jake laughed bitterly. “Pshaw, I guess your +blindness is gettin’ round your brains!”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“I mean it ’ud have been better if you’d let me—wipe him out. Better +for us—for you.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see; you forget his money.” The blind man’s tone was very +low. “You forget he intends to buy a ranch and stock. You forget that +he has twenty-five thousand dollars to expend. Bah! I’ll never make a +business man of you.”</p> + +<p>“And what about your girl?” Jake asked, quite unmoved by the other’s +explanation.</p> + +<p>“My girl?” Marbolt laughed softly. “You are always harping on that. He +will leave my girl alone. She knows my wishes, and will—shall obey +me. I don’t care a curse about him or his affairs. But I want his +money, and if you will only see to your diabolical temper, I’ll—we’ll +have it. Your share stands good in this as in all other deals.”</p> + +<p>It was the foreman’s turn to laugh. But there was no mirth in it. It +stopped as suddenly as it began, cut off short.</p> + +<p>“He will leave your girl alone, will he?” he said, with a sneer. “Say, +d’you know what he was doin’ around this house last night when he saw +those hoss-thief guys, or shall I tell you?”</p> + +<p>“You’d better tell me,” replied the rancher, coldly.</p> + +<p>“He was after your girl. Say, an’ what’s more, he saw her. An’ what’s +still more, she’s promised to be his wife. He told me.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p><p>“What’s that? Say it again.” There was an ominous calmness in the +blind man’s manner.</p> + +<p>“I said he was after your girl, saw her, and +she’s—promised—to—be—his—wife.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!”</p> + +<p>Then there was a silence for some minutes. The red eyes were frowning +in the direction of the window. At last the man drew a deep breath, +and Jake, watching him, wondered what was coming.</p> + +<p>“I’ll see her,” he said slowly, “and I’ll see him—after he comes back +from Willow Bluff.”</p> + +<p>That was all, but Jake, accustomed to Julian Marbolt’s every mood, +read a deal more than the words expressed. He waited for what else +might be coming, but only received a curt dismissal in tones so sharp +that he hurried out of the room precipitately.</p> + +<p>Once clear of the verandah he walked more slowly, and his eyes turned +in the direction of the bunkhouse. All the old hatred was stirred +within him as he saw Tresler turn the angle of the building and +disappear within its doorway.</p> + +<p>“Guess no one’s goin’ to see you—after Willow Bluff,” he muttered. +“No one.”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>AT WILLOW BLUFF</h3> + +<p>Tresler would have liked to see Diane before going out to Willow +Bluff, but reflection showed him how impossible that would be; at +least, how much unnecessary risk it would involve for her. After what +he had just witnessed of her father, it behooved him to do nothing +rashly as far as she was concerned, so he turned his whole attention +to his preparations for departure.</p> + +<p>He had made up his mind as to his comrade without a second thought. +Arizona was his man, and he sent the diplomatic Joe out to bring him +in from Pine Creek sloughs, where he was cutting late hay for winter +stores.</p> + +<p>In about half an hour the American came in, all curiosity and +eagerness; nor would he be satisfied until he had been told the whole +details of the matter that had led up to the appointment. Tresler kept +back nothing but his private affairs relating to Diane. At the +conclusion of the recital, Arizona’s rising temper culminated in an +explosion.</p> + +<p>“Say, that feller Jake’s a meaner pirate an’ cus as ’ud thieve the +supper from a blind dawg an’ then lick hell out o’ him ’cos he can’t +see.” Which outburst of feeling having satisfied the necessity of the +moment, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>he became practical. “An’ you’re goin’, you an’ me?” he asked +incredulously.</p> + +<p>“That’s the idea, Arizona; but of course you’re quite free to please +yourself. I chose you; Marbolt gave me the privilege of selection.”</p> + +<p>“Wal, guess we’d best git goin’. Willow Bluff station’s fair to +decent, so we’ll only need our blankets an’ grub—an’ a tidy bunch of +ammunition. Guess I’ll go an’ see Teddy fer the rations.”</p> + +<p>He went off in a hurry. Tresler looked after him. It was good to be +dealing with such a man after those others, Jake and the rancher. +Arizona’s manner of accepting his selection pleased him. There was no +“yes” or “no” about it: no argument. A silent acceptance and ready +thought for their needs. A thorough old campaigner. A man to be relied +on in emergency—a man to be appreciated.</p> + +<p>In two hours everything was in readiness, Tresler contenting himself +with a reassuring message to Diane through the medium of Joe.</p> + +<p>They rode off. Jezebel was on her good behavior, and Arizona’s mount +kept up with her fast walk by means of his cowhorse amble. As they +came to the ford, Tresler drew up and dismounted, and the other +watched him while he produced a wicker-covered glass flask from his +pocket.</p> + +<p>“What’s that?” he asked. “Rye?”</p> + +<p>Tresler shook his head, and tried the metal screw cap.</p> + +<p>“No,” he replied shortly.</p> + +<p>Then he leant over the water and carefully set the bottle <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>floating, +pushing it out as far as possible with his foot while he supported +himself by the overhanging bough of a tree. Then he stood watching it +carried slowly amid-stream. Presently the improvised craft darted out +with a rush into the current, and swept onward with the main flow of +the water. Then he returned and remounted his impatient mare.</p> + +<p>“That,” he said, as they rode on, “is a message. Fyles’s men are down +the river spying out the land, and, incidentally, waiting to hear from +me. The message I’ve sent them is a request for assistance at Willow +Bluff. I have given them sound reason, which Fyles will understand.”</p> + +<p>Arizona displayed considerable astonishment, which found expression in +a deprecating avowal.</p> + +<p>“Say, I guess I’m too much o’ the old hand. I didn’t jest think o’ +that.”</p> + +<p>It was all he vouchsafed, but it said a great deal. And the thin face +and wild eyes said more.</p> + +<p>Now they rode on in silence, while they followed the wood-lined trail +along the river. The shade was delightful, and the trail sufficiently +sandy to muffle the sound of the horses’ hoofs and so leave the +silence unbroken. There was a faint hum from the insects that haunted +the river, but it was drowsy, soft, and only emphasized the perfect +sylvan solitude. After a while the trail left the river and gently +inclined up to the prairie level. Then the bush broke and became +scattered into small bluffs, and a sniff of the bracing air of the +plains brushed away the last odor of the redolent glades they were +leaving.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p><p>It was here that Arizona roused himself. He was of the prairie, +belonging to the prairie. The woodlands depressed him, but the prairie +made him expansive.</p> + +<p>“Seems to me, Tresler, you’re kind o’ takin’ a heap o’ chances—mostly +onnes’ary. Meanin’ ther’ ain’t no more reason to it than whistlin’ +Methody hymns to a deaf mule. Can’t see why you’re mussin’ y’self up +wi’ these all-fired hoss thieves. You’re askin’ fer a sight more’n you +ken eat.”</p> + +<p>“And, like all men of such condition, I shall probably eat to +repletion, I suppose you mean.”</p> + +<p>Arizona turned a doubtful eye on the speaker, and quietly spat over +his horse’s shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Guess your langwidge ain’t mine,” he said thoughtfully; “but if +you’re meanin’ you’re goin’ to git your belly full, I calc’late you’re +li’ble to git like a crop-bound rooster wi’ the moult ’fore you’re +through. An’ I sez, why?”</p> + +<p>Tresler shrugged. “Why does a man do anything?” he asked +indifferently.</p> + +<p>“Gener’ly fer one of two reasons. Guess it’s drink or wimmin.” Again +he shot a speculating glance at his friend, and, as Tresler displayed +more interest in the distant view than in his remarks, he went on. “I +ain’t heerd tell as you wus death on the bottle.”</p> + +<p>The object of his solicitude smiled round on him.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you think me a fool. But I just can’t stand by seeing things +going wrong in a way that threatens to swamp one poor, lonely girl, +whose only protection is her blind father.”</p> + +<p>“Then it is wimmin?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p><p>“If you like.”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t jest see wher’ them hoss thieves figger.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you don’t, but believe me they do—indirectly.” Tresler +paused. Then he went on briskly. “There’s no need to go into details +about it, but—but I want to run into this gang. Do you know why? +Because I want to find out who this Red Mask is. It is on his +personality depends the possibility of my helping the one soul on this +ranch who deserves nothing but tender kindness at the hands of those +about her.”</p> + +<p>“A-men,” Arizona added in the manner he had acquired in his “religion” +days.</p> + +<p>“I must set her free of Jake—somehow.”</p> + +<p>Arizona’s eyes flashed round on him quickly. “Jest so,” he observed +complainingly. “That’s how I wanted to do last night.”</p> + +<p>“And you’d have upset everything.”</p> + +<p>“Wrong—plumb wrong.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps so,” Tresler smiled confidently. “We are all liable to +mistakes.”</p> + +<p>Arizona’s dissatisfied grunt was unmistakable. “Thet’s jest how that +sassafras-colored, bull-beef Joe Nelson got argyfyin’ when Jake come +around an’ located him sleepin’ off the night before in the hog-pen. +But it don’t go no more’n his did, I guess. Howsum, it’s wimmin. Say, +Tresler,” the lean figure leant over toward him, and the wild eyes +looked earnestly into his—“it’s right, then—dead right?”</p> + +<p>“When I’ve settled with her father—and Jake.”</p> + +<p>Arizona held out his horny, claw-like hand. “Shake,” he said. “I’m +glad, real glad.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p><p>They gripped for a moment, then the cowpuncher turned away, and sat +staring out over the prairie. Tresler, watching him, wondered at that +long abstraction. The man’s face had a softened look.</p> + +<p>“We all fall victims to it sooner or later, Arizona,” he ventured +presently. “It comes once in a man’s lifetime, and it comes for good +or ill.”</p> + +<p>“Twice—me.”</p> + +<p>The hard fact nipped Tresler’s sentimental mood in the bud.</p> + +<p>“Ah!”</p> + +<p>The other continued his study of the sky-line. “Yup,” he said at last. +“One died, an’ t’other didn’t hatch out.”</p> + +<p>“I see.”</p> + +<p>It was no use attempting sympathy. When Arizona spoke of himself, when +he chose to confide his life’s troubles to any one, he had a way of +stating simple facts merely as facts; he spoke of them because it +suited his pessimistic mood.</p> + +<p>“Yup. The first was kind o’ fady, anyways—sort o’ limp in the +backbone. Guess I’d got fixed wi’ her ’fore I knew a heap. Must ’a’ +bin. Yup, she wus fancy in her notions. Hated sharin’ a pannikin o’ +tea wi’ a friend; guess I see her scrape out a fry-pan oncet. I ’lows +she had cranks. Guess she hadn’t a pile o’ brain, neither. She never +could locate a hog from a sow, an’ as fer stridin’ a hoss, hell itself +couldn’t ’a’ per-suaded her. She’d a notion fer settin’ sideways, an’ +allus got muleish when you guessed she wus wrong. Yup, she wus red-hot +on the mission sociables an’ eatin’ off’n <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>chiny, an’ wa’n’t satisfied +wi’ noospaper on the table; an’ took the notion she’d got pimples, an’ +worried hell out o’ her old man till he bo’t a razor an’ turned his +features into a patch o’ fall ploughin’, an’ kind o’ bulldozed her +mother into lashin’ her stummick wi’ some noofangled fixin’ as +wouldn’t meet round her nowheres noways. An’ she wus kind o’ finnicky +wi’ her own feedin’, too. Guess some wall-eyed cuss had took her into +Sacramento an’ give her a feed at one of them Dago joints, wher’ they +disguise most everythin’ wi’ langwidge, an’ ile, an’ garlic, till you +hate yourself. Wal, she died. Mebbe she’s got all them things handy +now. But I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ mean about her; she jest had her +notions. Guess it come from her mother. I ’lows she wus kind o’ struck +on fool things an’ fixin’s. Can’t blame her noways. Guess I wus mostly +sudden them days. Luv ut fust sight is a real good thing when it comes +to savin’ labor, but like all labor-savin’ fixin’s, it’s liable to git +rattled some, an’ then ther’ ain’t no calc’latin’ what’s goin’ to +bust.”</p> + +<p>Arizona’s manner was very hopeless, but presently he cheered up +visibly and renewed his wad of chewing.</p> + +<p>“T’other wus kind o’ slower in comin’ along,” he went on, in his +reflective drawl. “But when it got around it wus good an’ strong, +sure. Y’ see, ther’ wus a deal ’tween us like to make us friendly. She +made hash fer the round-up, which I ’lows, when the lady’s young, +she’s most gener’ly an objec’ of ’fection fer the boys. Guess she wus +most every kind of a gal, wi’ her ha’r the color of a field of wheat +ready fer the binder, an’ her figger as del’cate as one o’ them crazy +egg-bilers, an’ <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>her pretty face all sparklin’ wi’ smiles an’ +hoss-soap, an’ her eye! Gee! but she had an eye. Guess she would ’a’ +made a prairie-rose hate itself. But that wus ’fore we hooked up in a +team. I ’lows marryin’s a mighty bad finish to courtin’.”</p> + +<p>“You were married?”</p> + +<p>“Am.”</p> + +<p>A silence fell. The horses ambled on in the fresh noonday air. +Arizona’s look was forbidding. Suddenly he turned and gazed fiercely +into his friend’s face.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sirree. An’ it’s my ’pinion, in spite of wot some folks sez, +gettin’ married’s most like makin’ butter. Courtin’s the cream, good +an’ thick an’ juicy, an’ you ken lay it on thick, an’ you kind o’ +wonder how them buzzocky old cows got the savee to perduce sech a +daisy liquid. But after the turnin’-point, which is marryin’, it’s +diff’rent some. ’Tain’t cream no longer. It’s butter, an’ you need to +use it sort o’ mean. That’s how I found, I guess.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose you settled down, and things went all right, though?” +suggested Tresler.</p> + +<p>“Wal, maybe that’s so. Guess if anythin’ wus wrong it wus me. Yer see, +ther’ ain’t a heap o’ fellers rightly understands females. I’m most +gener’ly patient. Knowin’ their weakness, I sez, ‘Arizona, you’re mud +when wimmin gits around. You bein’ married, it’s your dooty to boost +the gal along.’ So I jest let her set around an’ shovel orders as +though I wus the hired man. Say, guess you never had a gal shovelin’ +orders. It’s real sweet to hear ’em, an’ I figger they knows their +bizness mostly. It makes you feel as though <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>you’d ha’f a dozen hands +an’ they wus all gropin’ to git to work. That’s how I felt, anyways. +Every mornin’ she’d per-suade me gentle out o’ bed ’fore daylight, an’ +I’d feel like a hog fer sleepin’ late. Then she’d shovel the orders +hansum, in a voice that ’ud shame molasses. It wus allus ‘dear’ or +‘darlin’.’ Fust haul water, then buck wood, light the stove, feed the +hogs an’ chick’ns, dung out the ol’ cow, fill the lamp, rub down the +mare, pick up the kitchen, set the clothes bilin’, cook the vittles, +an’ do a bit o’ washin’ while she turned over fer five minits. Then +she’d git around, mostly ’bout noon, wi’ her shower o’ ha’r trailin’ +like a rain o’ gold-dust, an’ a natty sort o’ silk fixin’ which she +called a ‘dressin’-gown,’ an’ she’d sot right down an’ eat the +vittles, tellin’ me o’ things she wanted done as she’d fergot. Ther’ +wus the hen-roost wanted limin’, she was sure the chick’ns had the +bugs, an’ the ol’ mare’s harness wanted fixin’, so she could drive +into town; an’ the buckboard wanted washin’, an’ the wheels greasin’. +An’ the seat wus kind o’ hard an’ wanted packin’ wi’ a pillar. Then +ther’ wus the p’tater patch wanted hoein’, an’ the cabb’ges. An’ the +hay-mower wus to be got ready fer hayin’. She mostly drove that +herself, an’ I ’lows I wus glad.”</p> + +<p>Arizona paused and took a fresh chew. Then he went on.</p> + +<p>“Guess you ain’t never got hitched?”</p> + +<p>Tresler denied the impeachment. “Not yet,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Hah! Guess it makes a heap o’ diff’rence.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I suppose so. Sobers a fellow. Makes him feel like settling +down.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p><p>“Wal, maybe.”</p> + +<p>“And where’s your wife living now?” Tresler asked, after another +pause.</p> + +<p>“Can’t rightly say.” There was a nasty sharpness in the manner Arizona +jerked his answer out. “Y’ see, it’s this a-ways. I guess I didn’t +amount to a deal as a married man. Leastways, that’s how she got +figgerin’ after a whiles. Guess I’d sp’iled her life some. I ’lows I +wus allus a mean cuss. An’ she wus real happy bakin’ hash. Guess I +druv her to drinkin’ at the s’loon, too, which made me hate myself +wuss. Wal, I jest did wot I could to smooth things an’ kep goin’. I +got punchin’ cows agin, an’ give her every cent o’ my wages; but it +wa’n’t to be.” The man’s voice was husky, and he paused to recover +himself. And then hurried on as though to get the story over as soon +as possible. “Guess I wus out on the ‘round-up’ some weeks, an’ then I +come back to find her gone—plumb gone. Mebbe she’d got lonesome; I +can’t say. Yup, the shack wus empty, an’ the buckboard gone, an’ the +blankets, an’ most o’ the cookin’ fixin’s. It wus the neighbors put me +wise. Neighbors mostly puts you wise. They acted friendly. Ther’d bin +a feller come ’long from Alberta, a pretty tough Breed feller. He went +by the name o’ ‘Tough’ McCulloch.”</p> + +<p>Tresler started. But Arizona was still staring out at the distant +prairie, and the movement escaped him.</p> + +<p>“Guess he’d bin around the shack a heap,” he went on, “an’ the day +’fore I got back the two of ’em had drove out wi’ the buckboard +loaded, takin’ the trail fer the hills. I put after ’em, but never +found a trace. I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>’lows the feller had guts. He left a message on the +table. It wus one o’ his guns—loaded. Likely you won’t understan’, +but I kep’ that message. I ain’t see her sence. I did hear tell she +wus bakin’ hash agin. I ’lows she could bake hash. Say, Tresler, I’ve +lost hogs, an’ I’ve lost cows, but I’m guessin’ ther’ ain’t nothin’ in +the world meaner than losin’ yer wife.”</p> + +<p>Tresler made no reply. What could he say? “Tough” McCulloch! the name +rang in his ears. It was the name Anton had been known by in Canada. +He tried to think what he ought to do. Should he tell Arizona? No. He +dared not. Murder would promptly be done, if he knew anything of the +American. No doubt the Breed deserved anything, but there was enough +savagery at Mosquito Bend without adding to it. Suddenly another +thought occurred to him.</p> + +<p>“Did you know the man?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Never set eyes on him. But I guess I shall some day.” And Tresler’s +decision was irrevocably confirmed.</p> + +<p>“And the ‘gun’ message?”</p> + +<p>“Wal, it’s a way they have in Texas,” replied Arizona. “A loaded gun +is a mean sort o’ challenge. It’s a challenge which ain’t fer the +present zacly. Guess it holds good fer life. Et means ‘on sight.’”</p> + +<p>“I understand.”</p> + +<p>And the rest of the journey to Willow Bluff was made almost in +silence.</p> + +<p>The wonderful extent of the blind man’s domain now became apparent. +They had traveled twenty miles almost as the crow flies, and yet they +had not reached <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>its confines. As Arizona said, in response to a +remark from his companion, “The sky-line ain’t no limit fer the blind +hulk’s land.”</p> + +<p>Willow Bluff was, as its name described, just a big bluff of woodland +standing at the confluence of two rivers. To the south and west it was +open prairie. The place consisted of a small shack, and a group of +large pine-log corrals capable of housing a thousand head of stock. +And as the men came up they saw, scattered over the adjacent prairie, +the peacefully grazing beeves which were to be their charge.</p> + +<p>“A pretty bunch,” observed Arizona.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and a pretty place for a raid.”</p> + +<p>At that moment the doings of the raiders were uppermost in Tresler’s +mind.</p> + +<p>Then they proceeded to take possession. They found Jim Henderson, a +mean looking Breed boy, in the shack, and promptly set him to work to +clean it out. It was not a bad place, but the boys had let it get into +a filthy condition, in the customary manner of all half-breeds. +However, this they quickly remedied, and Tresler saw quite a decent +prospect of comfort for their stay there.</p> + +<p>Arizona said very little while there was work to be done. And his +companion was astonished, even though he knew him so well, at his +capacity and forethought. Evening was the most important time, and +here the cattleman stood out a master of his craft. The beeves had to +be corralled every night. There must be no chance of straying, since +they were sold, and liable for transport at any moment. This work, and +the task of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>counting, demanded all the cattleman’s skill. Bands of +fifty were rounded up, cut out from the rest, and quietly brought in. +When each corral was filled, and the whole herd accommodated for the +night, a supply of fresh young hay was thrown to them to keep them +occupied during their few remaining hours of waking. Arizona was a +giant at the work; and to see his lithe, lean body swaying this way +and that, as he swung his well-trained pony around the ambling herd, +his arms and “rope” and voice at work, was to understand something of +the wild life that claimed him, and the wild, untrained nature which +was his.</p> + +<p>The last corral was fastened up, and then, but not until then, the two +friends took leisure.</p> + +<p>“Wal,” said Arizona, as they stood leaning against the bars of the +biggest corral, “guess ther’s goin’ to be a night-guard?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. These boys are smart enough lads, it seems. We’ll let them take +two hours about up to midnight You and I will do the rest.”</p> + +<p>“An’ the hull lot of us’ll sleep round the corrals?”</p> + +<p>“That’s it.”</p> + +<p>“An’ the hosses?”</p> + +<p>“We’ll keep them saddled.”</p> + +<p>“An’ the sheriff’s fellers?”</p> + +<p>“That I can’t say. We’re not likely to see them, anyway.”</p> + +<p>And so the plans were arranged, simple, even hopeless in construction. +Two men, for they could not depend on the half-breeds, to face +possibly any odds should the raider choose this spot for attack. But +however <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>inadequate the guard, there was something morally strong in +the calm, natural manner of its arranging. These two knew that in case +of trouble they had only themselves to depend on. Yet neither +hesitated, or balked at the undertaking. Possibilities never entered +into their calculations.</p> + +<p>The first and second night produced no alarm. Nor did they receive any +news of a disturbing nature. On the third day Jacob Smith rode into +their camp. He was a patrol guard, on a visiting tour of the outlying +stations. His news was peaceful enough.</p> + +<p>“I don’t care a cuss how long the old man keeps the funks,” he said, +with a cheery laugh. “I give it you right here, this job’s a snap. I +ride around like a gen’l spyin’ fer enemies. Guess Red Mask has his +uses.”</p> + +<p>“So’s most folk,” responded Arizona, “but ’tain’t allus easy to +locate.”</p> + +<p>“Wal, I guess I ken locate his jest about now. I’m sort o’ lyin’ +fallow, which ain’t usual on Skitter Bend.”</p> + +<p>“Guess not. He’s servin’ us diff’rent.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! Doin’ night-guard? Say, I’d see blind hulk roastin’ ’fore I’d +hang on to them beasties. But it’s like you, Arizona. You hate him +wuss’n hell, an’ Jake too, yet you’d—pshaw! So long. Guess I’d best +get on. I’ve got nigh forty miles to do ’fore I git back.”</p> + +<p>And he rode away, careless, thoughtless, in the midst of a very real +danger. And it was the life they all led. They asked for a wage, a +bunk, and grub; nothing else mattered.</p> + +<p>Tresler had developed a feeling that the whole thing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>was a matter of +form rather than dead earnest, that he had been precipitate in sending +his message to the sheriff. He wanted to get back to the ranch. He +understood only too well how he had furthered Jake’s projects, and +cursed himself bitterly for having been so easily duped. He was +comfortably out of the way, and the foreman would take particularly +good care that he should remain so as long as possible. Arizona, too, +had become anything but enlivening. He went about morosely and snapped +villainously at the boys. There was no word in answer to the message +to the sheriff. They daily searched the bluff for some sign, but +without result, and Tresler was rather glad than disappointed, while +Arizona seemed utterly without opinion on the matter.</p> + +<p>The third night produced a slight shock for Tresler. It was midnight, +and one of the boys roused him for his watch. He sat up, and, to his +astonishment, found Arizona sitting on a log beside him. He waited +until the boy had gone to turn in, then he looked at his friend +inquiringly.</p> + +<p>“What’s up?”</p> + +<p>And Arizona’s reply fairly staggered him. “Say, Tresler,” he said, in +a tired voice, utterly unlike his usual forceful manner, “I jest +wanted to ast you to change ‘watches’ wi’ me. I’ve kind o’ lost my +grip on sleep. Mebbe I’m weak’nin’ some. I ’lows I’m li’ble to git +sleepy later on, an’ I tho’t, mebbe, ef I wus to do the fust +watch—wal, y’ see, I guess that plug in my chest ain’t done me a heap +o’ good.”</p> + +<p>Tresler was on his feet in an instant. It had suddenly <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>dawned on him +that this queer son of the prairie was ill.</p> + +<p>“Rot, man!” he exclaimed. His tone in no way hid his alarm. They were +at the gate of the big corral, hidden in the shadow cast by the high +wall of lateral logs. “You go and turn in. I’m going to watch till +daylight.”</p> + +<p>“Say, that’s real friendly,” observed the other, imperturbably. “But +it ain’t no use. Guess I couldn’t sleep yet.”</p> + +<p>“Well, please yourself. I’m going to watch till daylight.” Tresler’s +manner was quietly decided, and Arizona seemed to accept it.</p> + +<p>“Wal, ef it hits you that a-ways I’ll jest set around till I git +sleepy.”</p> + +<p>Tresler’s alarm was very real, but he shrugged with a great assumption +of indifference and moved off to make a round of the corrals, +carefully hugging the shadow of the walls as he went. After a while he +returned to his post. Arizona was still sitting where he had left him.</p> + +<p>There was a silence for a few minutes. Then the American quietly drew +his revolver and spun the chambers round. Tresler watched him, and the +other, looking up, caught his eye.</p> + +<p>“Guess these things is kind o’ tricksy,” he observed, in explanation, +“I got it jammed oncet. It’s a decent weapon but noo, an’ I ain’t fer +noo fixin’s. This hyar,” he went on, drawing a second one from its +holster, “is a ‘six’ an’ ’ud drop an ox at fifty. Ha’r trigger too. +It’s a dandy. Guess it wus ‘Tough’ <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>McCulloch’s. Guess you ain’t got +yours on your hip?”</p> + +<p>Tresler shook his head. “No, I use the belt for my breeches, and keep +the guns loose in my pockets when I’m not riding.”</p> + +<p>“Wrong. Say, fix ’em right. You take a sight too many chances.”</p> + +<p>Tresler laughingly complied “I’m not likely to need them, but +still——”</p> + +<p>“Nope.” Arizona returned his guns to their resting-place. Then he +looked up. “Say, guess I kind o’ fixed the hosses diff’rent. Our +hosses. Bro’t ’em up an’ stood ’em in the angle wher’ this corral +joins the next one. Seems better; more handy-like. It’s sheltered, an’ +ther’s a bit of a sharp breeze. One o’ them early frosts.” He looked +up at the sky. “Guess ther’ didn’t ought. Ther’ ain’t no moon till +nigh on daylight. Howsum, ther’ ain’t no argyfyin’ the weather.”</p> + +<p>Tresler was watching his comrade closely. There was something peculiar +in his manner. He seemed almost fanciful, yet there was a wonderful +alertness in the rapidity of his talk. He remained silent, and, +presently, the other went on again, but he had switched off to a fresh +topic.</p> + +<p>“Say, I never ast you how you figgered to settle wi’ Jake,” he said. +“I guess it’ll be all”—he broke off, and glanced out prairieward, but +went on almost immediately,—“a settlin’. I’ve seen you kind o’ riled. +And I’ve seen Jake.” He stood up and peered into the darkness while he +talked in his even monotone. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>“Yup,” he went on, “ther’s ways o’ +dealin’ wi’ men—an’ ways. Guess, now, ef you wus dealin’ wi’ an +honest citizen you’d jest talk him fair. Mind, I figger to know you a +heap.” His eyes suddenly turned on the man he was addressing, but +returned almost at once to their earnest contemplation of the black +vista of grass-land. “You’d argyfy the point reas’nable, an’ leave the +gal to settle for you. But wi’ Jake it’s diff’rent.” His hand slowly +went round to his right hip, and suddenly he turned on his friend with +a look of desperate meaning. “D’you know what it’ll be ’tween you two? +This is what it means;” and he whipped out the heavy six that had once +been “Tough” McCulloch’s, and leveled it at arm’s length out +prairieward. Tresler thought it was coming at him, and sprang back, +while Arizona laughed. “This is what it’ll be. You’ll take a careful +aim, an’ if you’ve friends around they’ll see fair play, sure. I guess +they’ll count ‘three’ for you, so. Jest one, two, an’ you’ll both fire +on the last, so. Three!”</p> + +<p>There was a flash, and a sharp report, and then a cry split the still +night air. Tresler sprang at the man whom he now believed was mad, but +the cry stayed him, and the next moment he felt the grip of Arizona’s +sinewy hand on his arm, and was being dragged round the corral as the +sound of horses’ hoofs came thundering toward him.</p> + +<p>“It’s them!”</p> + +<p>It was the only explanation Arizona vouchsafed. They reached the +horses and both sprang into the saddle, and the American’s voice +whispered hoarsely—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p><p>“Bend low. Guess these walls’ll save us, an’ we’ve got a sheer sight +o’ all the corral gates. Savee? Shoot careful, an’ aim true. An’ watch +out on the bluff. The sheriff’s around.”</p> + +<p>And now the inexperienced Tresler saw the whole scheme. The masterly +generalship of his comrade filled him with admiration. And he had +thought him ill, his brain turned! For some reason he believed the +raiders were approaching, but not being absolutely sure, he had found +an excuse for not turning in as usual, and cloaked all his suspicions +for fear of giving a false alarm. And their present position was one +of carefully considered strategy; the only possible one from which +they could hope to achieve any advantage, for, sheltered, they yet had +every gate of the corrals within gunshot.</p> + +<p>But there was little time for reflection or speculation. If the +sheriff’s men came, well and good. In the meantime a crowd of a dozen +men had charged down upon the corrals, a silent, ghostly band; the +only noise they made was the clatter of their horses’ hoofs.</p> + +<p>Both men, watching, were lying over their horses’ necks. Arizona was +the first to shoot. Again his gun belched a death-dealing shot. +Tresler saw one figure reel and fall with a groan. Then his own gun +was heard. His aim was less effective, and only brought a volley in +reply from the raiders. That volley was the signal for the real battle +to begin. The ambush of the two defenders was located, and the +rustlers divided, and came sweeping round to the attack.</p> + +<p>But Arizona was ready. Both horses wheeled round <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>and raced out of +their improvised fort, and Tresler, following the keen-witted man, +appreciated his resource as he darted into another angle between two +other corrals. The darkness favored them, and the rustlers swept by. +Arizona only waited long enough for them to get well clear, then his +gun rang out again, and Tresler’s too. But the game was played out. A +straggler sighted them and gave the alarm, and instantly the rest took +up the chase.</p> + +<p>“Round the corrals!”</p> + +<p>As he spoke Arizona turned in his saddle and fired into the mob. A +perfect hail of shots replied, and the bullets came singing all round +them. He was as cool and deliberate as though he were hunting +jack-rabbits. Tresler joined him in a fresh fusillade, and two more +saddles were emptied, but the next moment a gasp told Arizona that his +comrade was hit, and he turned only just in time to prevent him +reeling out of the saddle.</p> + +<p>“Hold up, boy!” he cried. “Kep your saddle if hell’s let loose. I’ll +kep ’em busy.”</p> + +<p>And the wounded man, actuated by a similar spirit, sat bolt upright, +while the two horses sped on. They were round at the front again. But +though Arizona was as good as his word, and his gun was emptied and +reloaded and emptied again, it was a hopeless contest—hopeless from +the beginning. Tresler was bleeding seriously from a wound in his +neck, and his aim was becoming more and more uncertain. But his will +was fighting hard for mastery over his bodily weakness. Just as they +headed again toward the bluff, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>Arizona gave a great yank at his reins +and his pony was thrown upon its haunches. The Lady Jezebel, too, as +though working in concert with her mate, suddenly stopped dead.</p> + +<p>The cause of the cowpuncher’s action was a solitary horseman standing +right ahead of them gazing out at the bluff. The plainsman’s gun was +up in an instant, in spite of the pursuers behind. Death was in his +eye as he took aim, but at that instant there was a shout from the +bluff, and the cry was taken up behind him—“Sheriff’s posse!” That +cry lost him his chance of fetching Red Mask down. Before he could let +the hammer of his gun fall, the horseman had wheeled about and +vanished in the darkness.</p> + +<p>Simultaneously the pursuers swung out, turned, and the next moment +were in full retreat under a perfect hail of carbine-fire from the +sheriff’s men.</p> + +<p>And as the latter followed in hot pursuit, Arizona hailed them—</p> + +<p>“You’ve missed him; he’s taken the river-bank for it. It’s Red Mask! I +see him.”</p> + +<p>But now Tresler needed all his friend’s attention. Arizona saw him +fall forward and lie clinging to his saddle-horn. He sprang to his +aid, and, dismounting, lifted him gently to the ground. Then he turned +his own horse loose, leading the Lady Jezebel while he supported the +sick man up to the shack.</p> + +<p>Here his patient fainted dead away, but he was equal to the emergency. +He examined the wound, and found an ugly rent in the neck, whence the +blood was pumping slowly. He saw at once that a small artery <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>had been +severed, and its adjacency to the jugular made it a matter of extreme +danger. His medical skill was small, but he contrived to wash and bind +the wound roughly. Then he quietly reloaded his guns, and, with the +aid of a stiff horn of whisky, roused some life in his patient. He +knew it would only be a feeble flicker, but while it lasted he wanted +to get him on to the Lady Jezebel’s back.</p> + +<p>This he contrived after considerable difficulty. The mare resented the +double burden, as was only to be expected. But the cowpuncher was +desperate and knew how to handle her.</p> + +<p>None but Arizona would have attempted such a feat with a horse of her +description; but he must have speed if he was going to save his +friend’s life, and he knew she could give it.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>WHAT LOVE WILL DO</h3> + +<p>Daylight was breaking when the jaded Lady Jezebel and her double +freight raced into the ranch. The mare had done the journey in +precisely two hours and a quarter. Arizona galloped her up to the +house and rounded the lean-to in which Joe slept. Then he pulled up +and shouted. Just then he had no thought for the rancher or Jake. He +had thought for no one but Tresler.</p> + +<p>His third shout brought Joe tumbling out of his bed.</p> + +<p>“Say, I’ve got a mighty sick man here,” he cried, directly he heard +the choreman moving. “Git around an’ lend a hand; gentle, too.”</p> + +<p>“That you, Arizona?” Joe, half awake, questioned, blinking up at the +horseman in the faint light.</p> + +<p>“I guess; an’ say, ’fore I git answerin’ no fool questions, git a holt +on this notion. Red Mask’s bin around Willow Bluff, an’ Tresler’s done +up. Savee?”</p> + +<p>“Tresler, did you say?” asked a girl’s voice from the kitchen doorway. +“Wounded?”</p> + +<p>There was a world of fear in the questions, which were scarcely above +a whisper.</p> + +<p>Arizona was lifting Tresler down into Joe’s arms. “I ’lows I didn’t +know you wus ther’, missie,” he replied, without turning from his +task. “Careful, Joe; easy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>—easy now. He’s dreadful sick, I guess. +Yes, missie, it’s him. They’ve kind o’ scratched him some. ’Tain’t +nothin’ to gas about; jest barked his neck. Kind o’ needs a bit o’ +band’ge. Gorl durn you, Joe! Git your arm under his shoulders an’ kep +his head steady; he’ll git bleedin’ to death ef y’ ain’t careful. +Quiet, you jade!” he cried fiercely, to the mare whom Diane had +frightened with her white robe as she came to help. “No, missie, not +you,” Arizona exclaimed. “He’s all blood an’ mussed up.” Then he +discovered that she had little on but a night-dress. “Gee! but you +ain’t wropped up, missie. Jest git right in. Wal,” as she deliberately +proceeded to help the struggling Joe, “ef you will; but Joe ken do it, +I guess. Ther’, that’s it. I ken git off’n this crazy slut of a mare +now.”</p> + +<p>Directly Arizona had quit the saddle he relieved Diane, and, with the +utmost gentleness, started to take the sick man into the lean-to. But +the girl protested at once.</p> + +<p>“Not in there,” she said sharply. “Take him into the house. I’ll go +and fix a bed up-stairs. Bring him through the kitchen.”</p> + +<p>She spoke quite calmly. Too calmly, Joe thought.</p> + +<p>“To that house?” Arizona protested.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, of course.” Then the passion of grief let itself loose, and +Diane cried, “And why not? Where else should he go? He belongs to me. +Why do you stand there like an imbecile? Take him at once. Oh, Jack, +Jack, why don’t you speak? Oh, take him quickly! You said he would +bleed to death. He isn’t dead? No, tell me he isn’t dead?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p><p>“Dead? Dead? Ha, ha!” Arizona threw all the scorn he was capable of +into the words, and laughed with funereal gravity. “Say, that’s real +good—real good. Him dead? Wal, I guess not. Pshaw! Say, missie, you +ain’t ast after my health, an’ I’m guessin’ I oughter be sicker’n him, +wi’ that mare o’ his. Say, jest git right ahead an’ fix that bunk fer +him, like the daisy gal you are. What about bl—your father, missie?”</p> + +<p>“Never mind father. Come along.”</p> + +<p>The man’s horse-like attempt at lightness had its effect. The girl +pulled herself together. She realized the emergency. She knew that +Tresler needed her help. Arizona’s manner had only emphasized the +gravity of his case.</p> + +<p>She ran on ahead, and the other, bearing the unconscious man, +followed.</p> + +<p>“Never mind father,” Arizona muttered doubtfully. “Wal, here goes.” +Then he called back to Joe: “Git around that mare an’ sling the saddle +on a fresh plug; guess I’ll need it.”</p> + +<p>He passed through the kitchen, and stepping into the hall he was +startled by the apparition of the blind man standing in the doorway of +his bedroom. He was clad in his customary dressing-gown, and his eyes +glowed ruddily in the light of the kitchen lamp.</p> + +<p>“What’s this?” he asked sharply.</p> + +<p>“Tresler’s bin done up,” Arizona replied at once. “Guess the gang got +around Willow Bluff—God’s curse light on ’em!”</p> + +<p>“Hah! And where are you taking him?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p><p>“Up-sta’rs,” was the brief reply. Then the cowpuncher bethought him of +his duty to his employer. “Guess the cattle are safe, fer which you +ken thank the sheriff’s gang. Miss Dianny’s hustlin’ a bunk fer him,” +he added.</p> + +<p>In spite of his usual assurance, Arizona never felt easy with this +man. Now the rancher’s manner decidedly thawed.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes,” he said gently. “Take the poor boy up-stairs. You’d better +go for the doctor. You can give me the details afterward.”</p> + +<p>He turned back into his room, and the other passed up the stairs.</p> + +<p>He laid the sick man on the bed, and pointed out to the girl the +bandage on his neck, advising, in his practical fashion, its +readjustment. Then he went swiftly from the house and rode into Forks +for Doc. Osler, the veterinary surgeon, the only available medical man +in that part of the country.</p> + +<p>When Diane found herself alone with the man she loved stretched out +before her, inert, like one dead, her first inclination was to sit +down and weep for him. She could face her own troubles with a certain +fortitude, but to see this strong man laid low, perhaps dying, was a +different thing, and her womanly weakness was near to overcoming her. +But though the unshed tears filled her eyes, her love brought its +courage to her aid, and she approached the task Arizona had pointed +out.</p> + +<p>With deft fingers she removed the sodden bandage, through which the +blood was slowly oozing. The <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>flow, which at once began again, alarmed +her, and set her swiftly to work. Now she understood as well as +Arizona did what was amiss. She hurried out to her own room, and +returned quickly with materials for rebandaging, and her arms full of +clothes. Then, with the greatest care, she proceeded to bind up the +neck, placing a cork on the artery below the severance. This she +strapped down so tightly that, for the time at least, the bleeding was +staunched. Her object accomplished, she proceeded to dress herself +ready for the doctor’s coming.</p> + +<p>She had taken her place at the bedside, and was meditating on what +further could be done for her patient, when an event happened on which +she had in nowise reckoned. Somebody was ascending the stair with the +shuffling gait of one feeling his way. It was her father. The first +time within her memory that he had visited the upper part of the +house.</p> + +<p>A look of alarm leapt into her eyes as she gazed at the door, watching +for his coming, and she realized only too well the possibilities of +the situation. What would he say? What would he do?</p> + +<p>A moment later she was facing him with calm courage. Her fears had +been stifled by the knowledge of her lover’s helplessness. One look at +his dear, unconscious form had done for her what nothing else could +have done. Her filial duty went out like a candle snuffed with wet +fingers. There was not even a spark left.</p> + +<p>Julian Marbolt stepped across the threshold, and his head slowly moved +round as though to ascertain in <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>what direction his daughter was +sitting. The oil-lamp seemed to attract his blind attention, and his +eyes fixed themselves upon it; but for a moment only. Then they passed +on until they settled on the girl.</p> + +<p>“Where is he?” he asked coldly. “I can hear you breathing. Is he +dead?”</p> + +<p>Diane sprang up and bent over her patient. “No,” she said, half +fearing that her father’s inquiry was prophetic. “He is unconscious +from loss of blood. Arizona——”</p> + +<p>“Tchah! Arizona!—I want to talk to you. Here, give me your hand and +lead me to the bedside. I will sit here. This place is unfamiliar.”</p> + +<p>Diane did as she was bid. She was pale. A strained look was in her +soft brown eyes, but there was determination in the set of her lips.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter with you, girl?” her father asked. The softness of +his speech in no way disguised the iciness of his manner. “You’re +shaking.”</p> + +<p>“There’s nothing the matter with me,” she replied pointedly.</p> + +<p>“Ah, thinking of him.” His hand reached out until it rested on one of +Tresler’s legs. His remark seemed to require no answer, and a silence +fell while Diane watched the eyes so steadily directed upon the sick +man. Presently he went on. “These men have done well. They have saved +the cattle. Arizona mentioned the sheriff. I don’t know much about it +yet, but it seems to me this boy must have contrived their assistance. +Smart work, if he did so.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p><p>“Yes, father, and brave,” added the girl in a low tone.</p> + +<p>His words had raised hope within her. But with his next he dashed it.</p> + +<p>“Brave? It was his duty,” he snapped, resentful immediately. The red +eyes were turned upon his daughter, and she fancied she saw something +utterly cruel in their painful depths. “You are uncommonly +interested,” he went on slowly. “I was warned before that he and you +were too thick. I told you of it—cautioned you. Isn’t that +sufficient, or have I to——” He left his threat unfinished.</p> + +<p>A color flushed slowly into Diane’s cheeks and her eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p>“No, it isn’t sufficient, father. You have no right to stop me +speaking to Mr. Tresler. I have bowed to your decision with regard to +the other men on the ranch. There, perhaps, you had a right—a +parent’s right. But it is different with Mr. Tresler. He is a +gentleman. As for character, you yourself admit it is unimpeachable. +Then what right have you to refuse to allow me even speech with him? +It is absurd, tyrannical; and I refuse to obey you.”</p> + +<p>The frowning brows drew sharply down over the man’s eyes. And Diane +understood the sudden rising of storm behind the mask-like face. She +waited with a desperate calmness. It was the moral bravery prompted by +her new-born love.</p> + +<p>But the storm held off, controlled by that indomitable will which made +Julian Marbolt an object of fear to all who came into contact with +him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p><p>“You are an ungrateful girl, a foolish girl,” he said quietly. “You +are ungrateful that you refuse to obey me; and foolish, that you think +to marry him.”</p> + +<p>Diane sprang to her feet. “I—how——”</p> + +<p>“Tut! Do not protest. I know you have promised to be his wife. If you +denied it you would lie.” He sat for a moment enjoying the girl’s +discomfort. Then he went on, with a cruel smile about his lips as she +returned to her seat with a movement that was almost a collapse. +“That’s better,” he said, following her action by means of his +wonderful instinct. “Now let us be sensible—very sensible.”</p> + +<p>His tone had become persuasive, such as might have been used to a +child, and the girl wondered what further cruelty it masked. She had +not long to wait.</p> + +<p>“You are going to give up this madness,” he said coldly. “You will +show yourself amenable to reason—my reason—or I shall enforce my +demands in another way.”</p> + +<p>The girl’s exasperation was growing with each moment, but she kept +silence, waiting for him to finish.</p> + +<p>“You will never marry this man,” he went on, with quiet emphasis. “Nor +any other man while I live. There is no marriage for you, my girl. +There can be no marriage for you. And the more ‘unimpeachable’ a man’s +character the less the possibility.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t pretend to understand you,” Diane replied, with a coldness +equal to her father’s own.</p> + +<p>“No; perhaps you don’t.” The man chuckled fiendishly.</p> + +<p>Tears sprang into the girl’s eyes. She could no <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>longer check them. +And with them came the protest that she was also powerless to +withhold.</p> + +<p>“Why may I not marry? Why can I not marry? Surely I can claim the +right of every woman to marry the man of her choice. I know you have +no good will for me, father. Why, I cannot understand. I have always +obeyed you; I have ever striven to do my duty. If there has never been +any great affection displayed, it is not my fault. For, ever since I +can remember, you have done your best to kill the love I would have +given you. How have I been ungrateful? What have I to be grateful for? +I cannot remember one single kindness you have ever shown me. You have +set up a barrier between me and the world outside this ranch. I am a +prisoner here. Why? Am I so hateful? Have I no claims on your +toleration? Am I not your own flesh and blood?”</p> + +<p>“No!”</p> + +<p>The man’s answer came with staggering force. It was the bursting of +the storm of passion, which even his will could no longer restrain. +But it was the whole storm, for he went no further. It was Diane who +spoke next. Her cheeks had assumed an ashen hue, and her lips trembled +so that she could scarcely frame her words.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” she gasped.</p> + +<p>“Tut! Your crazy obstinacy drives me to it,” her father answered +impatiently, but with perfect control. “Oh, you need have no fear. +There is no legal shame to you. But there is that which will hit you +harder, I think.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p><p>“Father! What are you saying?”</p> + +<p>Something of the man’s meaning was growing upon her. Old hints and +innuendoes against her mother were recalled by his words. Her throat +parched while she watched the relentless face of this man who was +still her father.</p> + +<p>“Saying? You know the story of my blindness. You know I spent three +years visiting nearly every eye-doctor in Europe. But what you don’t +know, and shall know, is that I returned home to Jamaica at the end of +that time to find myself the father of a three-days’-old baby girl.” +The man’s teeth were clenched, rage and pain distorted his face, +rendering his sightless stare a hideous thing. “Yes,” he went on, but +now more to himself, “I returned home to that, and in time to hear the +last words your mother uttered in life; in time to feel—feel her +death-struggles.” He mouthed his words with unmistakable relish, and +relapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>Diane fell back with a bitter cry. The cry roused her father.</p> + +<p>“Well?” he continued. “You’ll give this man up—now?”</p> + +<p>For some minutes there was no answer. The girl sat like a statue +carved in dead white stone; and the expression of her face was as +stony as the mould of her features. Her blood was chilled; her brain +refused its office; and her heart—it was as though that fount of life +lay crushed within her bosom. Even the man lying sick on the bed +beside her had no meaning for her.</p> + +<p>“Well?” her father demanded impatiently. “You are going to give +Tresler up now?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p><p>She heard him this time. With a rush everything came to her, and a +feeling of utter helplessness swept over her. Oh, the shame of it! +Suddenly she flung forward on the bed and sobbed her heart out beside +the man she must give up. He had been the one bright ray in the dull +gray of her life. His love, come so quickly, so suddenly, to her had +leavened the memory of her unloved years. Their recollection had been +thrust into the background to give place to the sunshine of a precious +first love. And now it must all go. There was no other course open to +her, she told herself; and in this decision was revealed her father’s +consummate devilishness. He understood her straightforward pride, if +he had no appreciation of it. Then, suddenly, there came a feeling of +resentment and hatred for the author of her misfortune, and she sat up +with the tears only half dry on her cheeks. Her father’s dead eyes +were upon her, and their hateful depths seemed to be searching her. +She knew she must submit to his will. He mastered her as he mastered +everybody else.</p> + +<p>“It is not what I will,” she said, in a low voice. “I understand; our +lives must remain apart.” Then anger brought harshness into her tone. +“I would have given him up of my own accord had I known. I could not +have thrust the shame of my birth upon him. But you—you have kept +this from me all these years, saving it, in your heartless way, for +such a moment as this. Why have you told me? Why do you keep me at +your side? Oh, I hate you!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, of course you do,” her father said, quite <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span>unmoved by her +attack. “Now you are tasting something—only something—of the +bitterness of my life. And it is good that you should. The parent’s +sins—the children. Yes, you certainly can feel——”</p> + +<p>“For heaven’s sake leave me!” the girl broke in, unable to stand the +taunting—the hideous enjoyment of the man.</p> + +<p>“Not yet; I haven’t done. This man——” The rancher leant over the +bed, and one hand felt its way over Tresler’s body until it rested +over his heart. “At one time I was glad he came here. I had reasons. +His money was as good as in my pocket. He would have bought stock from +me at a goodish profit. Now I have changed my mind. I would sacrifice +that. It would be better perhaps—perhaps. No, he is not dead yet. But +he may die, eh, Diane? It would be better were he to die; it would +save your explanation to him. Yes, let him die. You are not going to +marry him. You would not care to see him marry another, as, of course, +he will. Let him die. Love? Love? Why, it would be kindness to +yourselves. Yes, let him die.”</p> + +<p>“You—you—wretch!” Diane was on her feet, and her eyes blazed down +upon the cruel, working face before her. The cry was literally wrung +from her. “And that is the man who was ready to give his life for your +interests. That is the man whose cleverness and bravery you even +praised. You want me to refuse him the trifling aid I can give him. +You are a monster! You have parted us, but it is not sufficient; you +want his life.”</p> + +<p>She suddenly bent over and seized her father’s hand, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>where it rested +upon Tresler’s heart, and dragged it away.</p> + +<p>“Take your hand off him; don’t touch him!” she cried in a frenzy. “You +are not——”</p> + +<p>But she got no further. The lean, sinewy hand had closed over hers, +and held them both as in a vice; and the pressure made her cry out.</p> + +<p>“Listen!” he said fiercely. He, too, was standing now, and his tall +figure dwarfed hers. “He is to be moved out of here. I will have Jake +to see to it in the morning. And you shall know what it is to thwart +me if you dare to interfere.”</p> + +<p>He abruptly released her hands and turned away; but he shot round +again as he heard her reply.</p> + +<p>“I shall nurse him,” she said.</p> + +<p>“You will not.”</p> + +<p>The girl laughed hysterically. The scene had been too much for her, +and she was on the verge of breaking down.</p> + +<p>“We shall see,” she cried after him, as he passed out of the room.</p> + +<p>The whole ranch was astir when Arizona returned with Doc. Osler. Nor +did they come alone. Fyles had met them on the trail. He had just +returned from a fruitless pursuit of the raiders. He had personally +endeavored to track Red Mask, but the rustler had evaded him in the +thick bush that lined the river; and his men had been equally +unsuccessful with the rest of the band. The hills had been their goal, +and they had made it through the excellence of their horses. Although +the pursuers were well mounted their horses <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>were heavier, and lost +ground hopelessly in the midst of the broken land of the foot-hills.</p> + +<p>Jake was closeted with the rancher at the coming of the doctor and his +companions; but their confabulation was brought to an abrupt +termination at once.</p> + +<p>The doctor went to the wounded man, who still remained unconscious, +while Fyles joined the rancher and his foreman in a discussion of the +night’s doings. And while these things were going on Arizona and Joe +shared the hospitality of the lean-to.</p> + +<p>The meeting in the rancher’s den had not proceeded far when a summons +from up-stairs cut it short. Diane brought a message from the doctor +asking her father and the sheriff to join him. Marbolt displayed +unusual alacrity, and Fyles followed him as he tapped his way up to +the sick-room. Here the stick was abandoned, and he was led to his +seat by his daughter. Diane was pale, but alert and determined; while +her father wore a gentle look of the utmost concern. The doctor was +standing beside the window gazing out over the pastures, but he turned +at once as they came in.</p> + +<p>“A nasty case, Mr. Marbolt,” he said, the moment the rancher had taken +up his position. “A very nasty case.” He was a brusque little man with +a pair of keen black eyes, which he turned on the blind man curiously. +“An artery cut by bullet. Small artery. Your daughter most cleverly +stopped bleeding. Many thanks to her. Patient lost gallons of blood. +Precarious position—very. No danger from wound now. Exhaustion only. +Should he bleed again—death. But he won’t; artery tied up securely. +Miss Marbolt says <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>you desire patient removed to usual quarters. I say +no! Remove him—artery break afresh—death. Sheriff, I order +distinctly this man remains where he is. Am I right? Have I right?”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly.” Then Fyles turned upon the blind man. “His orders are +your law, Mr. Marbolt,” he said. “And you, of course, will be held +responsible for any violation of them.”</p> + +<p>The blind man nodded in acquiescence.</p> + +<p>“Good,” said the doctor, rubbing his hands. “Nothing more for me now. +Return to-morrow. Miss Marbolt, admirable nurse. Wish I was patient. +He will be about again in two weeks. Artery small. Health good—young. +Oh, yes, no fear. Only exhaustion. Hope you catch villains. +Good-morning. Might have severed jugular—near shave.”</p> + +<p>Doc. Osler bowed to the girl and passed out muttering, “Capital +nurse—beautiful.” His departure brought the rancher to his feet, and +he groped his way to the door. As he passed his daughter he paused and +gently patted her on the back.</p> + +<p>“Ah, child,” he said, with a world of tolerant kindness in his voice, +“I still think you are wrong. He would have been far better in his own +quarters, his familiar surroundings, and amongst his friends. You are +quite inexperienced, and these men understand bullet wounds as well as +any doctor. However, have your way. I hope you won’t have cause to +regret it.”</p> + +<p>“All right, father,” Diane replied, without turning her eyes from the +contemplation of her sick lover.</p> + +<p>And Fyles, standing at the foot of the bed watching <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>the scene, +speculated shrewdly as to the relations in which the girl and her +patient stood, and the possible parental disapproval of the same. +Certainly he had no idea of the matters which had led up to the +necessity for his official services to enforce the doctor’s orders.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>THE LIGHTED LAMP</h3> + +<p>Diane was by no means satisfied with her small victory. She had gained +her point, it is true, but she had gained it by means which gave no +promise of a happy outcome to her purpose.</p> + +<p>Left alone with her patient she had little to do but reflect on her +position, and her thoughts brought her many a sigh, much heart-racking +and anxiety. For herself she allowed little thought. Her mind was made +up as to her future. Her love was to be snatched away while yet the +first sweet glamour of it was upon her. Every hope, every little +castle she had raised in her maiden thoughts, had been ruthlessly +shattered, and the outlook of her future was one dull gray vista of +hopelessness. It was the old order accentuated, and the pain of it +gripped her heart with every moment she gave to its contemplation. +Happily the life she had lived had strengthened her; she was not the +girl to weep at every ill that befell. The first shock had driven her +to tears, but that had passed. She was of a nature that can suffer +bravely, and face the world dry-eyed, gently, keeping the bitterness +of her lot to herself, and hiding her own pain under an earnest +attempt to help others.</p> + +<p>Tresler was her all; and that all meant far more than <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>mere earthly +love. To her he was something that must be cherished as a priceless +gem entrusted to her care, and his honor was more sacred to her than +her own. Therefore all personal considerations must be passed over, +and she must give him up.</p> + +<p>But if his honor was safe in her keeping, his personal safety was +another matter. In pitting herself against her father’s will she fully +realized the danger she was incurring. Therefore she racked her sorely +taxed brain for the best means of safeguarding her charge.</p> + +<p>She hardly knew what she feared. There was no real danger she could +think of, but her instinct warned her to watchfulness, to be prepared +for anything. She felt sure that her father would seek some means of +circumventing the sheriff’s mandate. What form would his attempt take?</p> + +<p>After half an hour’s hard thinking she made up her mind to consult her +wise old counselor, Joe, and enlist his aid. With this object in view +she went down-stairs and visited the lean-to. Here she found both +Arizona and Joe. Arizona was waiting a summons from the rancher, who +was still busy with Jake and Fyles. At first she thought of consulting +her adviser privately, but finally decided to take both men into her +confidence; and this the more readily since she knew her lover’s +liking for the hot-headed cowpuncher.</p> + +<p>Both men stood up as she entered. Arizona dragged his slouch hat off +with clumsy haste.</p> + +<p>“Boys,” the girl said at once, “I’ve come to ask you for a little +help.”</p> + +<p><a name="illo2" id="illo2"></a></p><div class="figcenter" style="width: 329px;"> +<img src="images/i304.jpg" class="ispace" width="329" height="500" alt="Left alone with her patient she had little to do but +reflect" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Left alone with her patient she had little to do but +reflect</span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p><p>“Makes me glad, missie,” said the cowpuncher, with alacrity.</p> + +<p>Joe contented himself with an upward glance of inquiry.</p> + +<p>Diane nodded with an assumption of brightness.</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s this,” she said. “Jack mustn’t be left for the next few +days. Now, I am his nurse, but I have household duties to perform and +shall be forced to leave him at times. You, Arizona, won’t be able to +do anything in the daytime, because you are occupied on the ranch. But +I thought you, Joe, could help me by being in the kitchen as much as +possible. You see, in the kitchen you can hear the least sound coming +from up-stairs. The room is directly overhead. In that way I shall be +free to do my house.”</p> + +<p>“Guess you had trouble fixin’ him up-stairs?” Joe inquired slowly. +“Doc. Osler wus sayin’ somethin’ ’fore he went.”</p> + +<p>Diane turned away. The shrewd old eyes were reading her like a book.</p> + +<p>“Yes, father wanted him put in the bunkhouse.”</p> + +<p>“Ah.” Joe’s twisted face took on a curious look. “Yes, I guess I ken +do that. What’s to happen o’ night time?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I can sit up with him. The night is all right,” the girl returned +easily.</p> + +<p>“Guess we’d best take it turn about like,” Joe suggested.</p> + +<p>“No, it wouldn’t do.”</p> + +<p>“Guess it wouldn’t do. That’s so,” the other observed thoughtfully. +“Howsum, I ken set around the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>kitchen o’ nights. I shan’t need no +lights. Y’ see, wi’ the door open right into the hall ther’ ain’t no +sound but what I’ll hear.”</p> + +<p>The man’s meaning was plain enough, but the girl would not take it.</p> + +<p>“No,” she said, “it’s in the daytime I want you.”</p> + +<p>“Daytime? I guess that’s fixed.” Joe looked up dissatisfied.</p> + +<p>At this juncture Arizona broke in with a scheme for his own +usefulness.</p> + +<p>“Say, missie, any time o’ night you jest tap hard on that windy I’ll +know you want the doc. fetchin’. An’ I’ll come right along up an’ git +orders. I’ll be waitin’ around.”</p> + +<p>The girl looked him squarely in the eyes, seeking the meaning that lay +behind his words. But the man’s expression was sphinx-like. She felt +that these rough creatures, instead of acting as advisers, had assumed +the responsibilities she had only asked their assistance in.</p> + +<p>“You are good fellows both. I can’t thank you; but you’ve taken a +weight off my mind.”</p> + +<p>“Ther’ ain’t no thanks, missie. I figger as a doc. is an a’mighty +ne’sary thing when a feller’s sick,” observed Arizona, quietly.</p> + +<p>“Spec’ally at night time,” put in Joe, seriously.</p> + +<p>“I’ll get back to my patient,” Diane said abruptly. And as she flitted +away to the house the men heard the heavy tread of Jake coming round +the lean-to, and understood the hastiness of her retreat.</p> + +<p>The next minute the foreman had summoned Arizona to the rancher’s +presence.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p><p>Diane had done well to enlist the help of these men. Without some aid +it would have been impossible to look after Tresler. She feared her +father, as well she might. What would be easier than for him to get +her out of the way, and then have Jake deport her patient to the +bunkhouse? Doc. Osler’s threats of life or death had been exaggerated +to help her carry her point, she knew, and, also, she fully realized +that her father understood this was so. He was not the man to be +scared of any bogey like that. Besides, his parting words, so gentle, +so kindly; she had grown to distrust him most in his gentler moods.</p> + +<p>All that day, assisted by Joe, she watched at the sickbed. Tresler was +never left for long; and when it was absolutely necessary to leave him +Joe’s sharp ears were straining for any alarming sound, and, +unauthorized by Diane, his eyes were on the hallway, watching the +rancher’s bedroom door. He had no compunction in admitting his fears +to himself. He had wormed the whole story of the rancher’s anger at +Tresler’s presence in the house from his young mistress, and, also, he +understood that Diane’s engagement to her patient was known to her +father. Therefore his lynx eyes never closed, his keen ears were ever +strained, and he moved about with a gun in his hip-pocket. He didn’t +know what might happen, but his movements conveyed his opinion of the +man with whom they had to deal. Arizona had been despatched with Fyles +to Willow Bluff. There were wounded men there to be identified, and +the officer wanted his aid in examining the battlefield.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span></p><p>“But he’ll git around to-night,” Joe had said, after bringing the news +to Diane. “Sure—sure as pinewood breeds bugs.”</p> + +<p>And the girl was satisfied. The day wore on, and night brought no +fresh anxiety. Diane was at her post, Joe was alert, and though no one +had heard of Arizona’s return, twice, in the small hours, the choreman +heard a footfall outside his lean-to, and he made a shrewd guess as to +whose it was.</p> + +<p>The second and third day passed satisfactorily, but still Tresler +displayed no sign of life. He lay on the bed just as he had been +originally placed there. Each day the brusque little doctor drove out +from Forks, and each day he went back leaving little encouragement +behind him. Before he went away, after his third visit, he shook his +head gravely in response to the nurse’s eager inquiries.</p> + +<p>“He’s got to get busy soon,” he said, as he returned his liniments and +medical stores to his bag. “Don’t like it. Bad—very bad. Nature +exhausting. He must rouse soon—or death. Three days——Tut, tut! +Still no sign. Cheer up, nurse. Give him three more. Then drastic +treatment. Won’t come till he wakes—no use. Send for me. Good girl. +Stick to it. Sorry. Good-bye.”</p> + +<p>And patting Diane on the back the man bustled out in his jerky +fashion, leaving her weeping over the verdict he had left behind.</p> + +<p>It was the strain of watching that had unnerved her. She was bodily +and mentally weary. Her eyes and head ached with the seemingly endless +vigil. Three <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span>days and nights and barely six hours’ sleep over all, +and those only snatched at broken intervals.</p> + +<p>And now another night confronted her. So overwrought was she that she +even thought of seeking the aid old Joe had proffered. She thought +quite seriously of it for some moments. Could she not smuggle him +up-stairs after her father had had his supper and retired to his +bedroom? She had no idea that Joe had, secretly, spent almost as much +time on the watch as she had done. However, she came to no actual +decision, and went wearily down and prepared the evening meal. She +waited on the blind man in her usual patient, silent manner, and +afterward went back to the kitchen and prepared to face the long +dreary night.</p> + +<p>Joe was finishing the washing-up. He was longer over it than usual, +though he had acquired a wonderful proficiency in his culinary duties +since he was first employed on the ranch. Diane paid little heed to +him, and as soon as her share of the work was finished, prepared to +retire up-stairs.</p> + +<p>“There’s just the sweeping up, Joe,” she said. “When you’ve finished +that we are through. I must go up to him.”</p> + +<p>Joe glanced round from his washing-trough, but went on with his work.</p> + +<p>“He ain’t showed no sign, Miss Dianny?” he asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>“No, Joe.”</p> + +<p>The girl spoke almost in a whisper, leaning against the table with a +deep sigh of weariness.</p> + +<p>“Say, Miss Dianny,” the little man suggested softly, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>“that doc. +feller said mebbe he’d give him three days. It’s a real long spell. +Seems to me you’ll need to be up an’ around come that time.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I shall be ‘up and around,’ Joe.”</p> + +<p>The grizzled old head shook doubtfully, and he moved away from his +trough, drying his hands, and came over to where she was standing.</p> + +<p>“Say, I jest can’t sleep noways. I’m like that, I guess. I git spells. +I wus kind o’ thinkin’ mebbe I’d set around like. A good night’s slep +’ud fix you right. I’ve heerd tell as folks kind o’ influences their +patiences some. You bein’ tired, an’ sleppy, an’ miser’ble, now mebbe +that’s jest wot’s keppin’ him back——”</p> + +<p>Diane shook her head. She saw through his round-about subterfuge, and +its kindliness touched her.</p> + +<p>“No, no, Joe,” she said almost tenderly. “Not on your life. You would +give me your last crust if you were starving. You are doing all, and +more than any one else would do for me, and I will accept nothing +further.”</p> + +<p>“You’re figgerin’ wrong,” he retorted quite harshly. “’Tain’t fer you. +No, no, it’s fer him. Y’ see we’re kind o’ dependin’ on him, Arizona +an’ me——”</p> + +<p>“What for?” the girl asked quietly.</p> + +<p>“Wal, y’ see—wal—it’s like this. He’s goin’ to be a rancher. Yes, +don’t y’ see?” he asked, with a pitiful attempt at a knowing leer.</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t.”</p> + +<p>“Say, mebbe Arizona an’ me’ll git a nice little job—a nice little +job. Eh?”</p> + +<p>“You are talking nonsense, and you know it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p><p>“Eh? What?”</p> + +<p>The little man stood abashed at the girl’s tone.</p> + +<p>“You’re only saying all this to get me to sleep to-night, instead of +sitting up. Well, I’m not going to. You thinking of mercenary things +like that. Oh, Joe, it’s almost funny.”</p> + +<p>Joe’s face flushed as far as it was capable of flushing.</p> + +<p>“Wal,” he said, “I jest thought ther’ wa’n’t no use in two o’ us +settin’ up.”</p> + +<p>“Nor is there. I’m going to do it. You’ve made me feel quite fresh +with your silly talk.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, mebbe. Guess I’ll swep up.”</p> + +<p>Diane took the hint and went up-stairs, her eyes brimming with tears. +In her present state of unhappiness Joe’s utter unselfishness was more +than she could bear.</p> + +<p>She took her place at the bedside, determined to sit there as long as +she could keep awake, afterward she would adopt a “sentry-go” in the +passage. For an hour she battled with sleep. She kept her eyes open, +but her senses were dull and she passed the time in a sort of dream, a +nasty, fanciful dream, in which Tresler was lying dead on the bed +beside her, and she was going through the agony of realization. She +was mourning him, living on in the dreary round of her life under her +father’s roof, listening to his daily sneers, and submitting to his +studied cruelties. No doubt this waking dream would have continued +until real sleep had stolen upon her unawares, but, after an hour, +something occurred to fully arouse her. There was a distinct movement +on the bed. Tresler had suddenly <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>drawn up one arm, which, almost +immediately, fell again on the coverlet, as though the spasmodic +movement had been uncontrolled by any power either mental or physical.</p> + +<p>She was on her feet in an instant, bending over him ready to +administer the drugs Doc. Osler had left with her. And by the light of +the shaded lamp she saw a distinct change in the pallor of his face. +It was no longer death-like; there was a tinge of life, however faint, +in the drawn features. And as she beheld it she could have cried aloud +in her joy.</p> + +<p>She administered the restoratives and returned to her seat with a +fast-beating heart. And suddenly she remembered with alarm how near +sleep she had been. She rose abruptly and began to pace the room. The +moment was a critical one. Her lover might regain consciousness at any +time. And with this thought came an access of caution. She went out on +the landing and looked at the head of the stairs. Then she crept back. +An inspiration had come to her. She would barricade the approach, and +though even to herself she did not admit the thought, it was the +recollection of her father’s blindness that prompted her.</p> + +<p>Taking two chairs she propped them at the head of the stairs in such a +position that the least accidental touch would topple them headlong. +The scheme appealed to her. Then, dreading sleep more than ever, she +took up her “sentry-go” on the landing, glancing in at the sick-room +at every turn in her walk.</p> + +<p>The hours dragged wearily on. Tresler gave no further sign. It was +after midnight, and the girl’s eyes <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>refused to keep open any longer; +added to which she frequently stumbled as she paced to and fro. In +desperation she fetched the lamp from the sick-room and passed into +her own, and bathed her face in cold water. Then she busied herself +with tidying the place up. Anything to keep herself awake. After a +while, feeling better, she sat on the edge of her bed to rest. It was +a fatal mistake. Her eyes closed against all effort of will. She was +helpless. Nothing could have stopped her. Exhausted nature claimed +her—and she slept.</p> + +<p>And Tresler was rousing. His constitution had asserted itself, and the +restorative Diane had administered was doing the rest. He moved +several times, but as yet his strength was insufficient to rouse him +to full consciousness. He lay there with his brain struggling against +his overwhelming weakness. Thought was hard at work with the mistiness +of dreaming. He was half aware that he was stretched out upon a bed, +yet it seemed to him that he was bound down with fetters of iron, +which resisted his wildest efforts to break. It seemed to him that he +was struggling fiercely, and that Jake was looking on mocking him. At +last, utterly weary and exhausted he gave up trying and called upon +Arizona. He shouted loudly, but he could not hear his own voice; he +shouted again and again, raising his screams to a fearful pitch, but +still no sound came. Then he thought that Jake went away, and he was +left utterly alone. He lay quite still waiting, and presently he +realized that he was stretched out on the prairie, staked down to the +ground by shackles securing his hands and feet; and the moon <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span>was +shining, and he could hear the distant sound of the coyotes and +prairie dogs. This brought him to a full understanding. His enemies +had done this thing so that he should be eaten alive by the starving +scavengers of the prairie. He pondered long; wondering, as the cries +of the coyotes drew nearer, how long it would be before the first of +the loathsome creatures would attack him. Now he could see their forms +in the moonlight. They came slowly, slowly. One much bigger than the +rest was leading; and as the creature drew near he saw that it had the +face of the rancher, whose blind eyes shone out like two coals of fire +in the moonlight. It reared itself on its hind legs, and to his utter +astonishment, as this man-wolf stood gazing down upon him, he saw that +it was wearing the dressing-gown in which the rancher always appeared. +It was a weird apparition, and the shackled man felt the force of +those savage, glowing eyes, gazing so cruelly into his. But there +could be no resistance, he was utterly at the creature’s mercy. He saw +the gleaming teeth bared in anticipation of the meal awaiting it, but, +with wolf-like cunning, it dissembled. It moved around, gazing in +every direction to see that the coast was clear, it paused and stood +listening; then it came on. Now it was standing near him, and he could +feel the warmth of its reeking breath blowing on his face. Lower +drooped its head, and its front feet, which he recognized as hands, +were placed upon his neck. Then a faint and distant voice reached him, +and he knew that this man-wolf was speaking. “So you’d marry her,” it +said. “You! But we’ll take no chances—no <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>chances. I could tear your +throat out, but I won’t; no, I won’t do that. A little blood—just a +little.” And then the dreaming man felt the fingers moving about his +throat. They felt cold and clammy, and the night air chilled him.</p> + +<p>Then came a change, one of those fantastic changes which dreamland +loves, and which drives the dreamer, even in his sleeping thought, +nearly distracted. The dark vista of the prairie suddenly lit. A great +light shone over all, and the dreaming man could see nothing but the +light—that, and the wolf-man. The ghoulish creature stood its ground. +The fingers were still at his throat, but now they moved uncertainly, +groping. There was no longer the deliberate movement of set purpose. +It was as though the light had blinded the cruel scavenger, that its +purpose was foiled through its power of vision being suddenly +destroyed. It was a breathless moment in the dream.</p> + +<p>But the tension quickly relaxed. The hands were drawn abruptly away. +The wolf-man stood erect again, and the dreamer heard it addressing +the light. The words were gentle, in contrast with the manner in which +it had spoken to him, and the softness of its tones held him +fascinated.</p> + +<p>“He’s better, eh? Coming round,” he said. And somehow the dreamer +thought that he laughed, and the invisible coyotes laughed with him.</p> + +<p>A brief silence followed, which was ultimately broken by another +voice. It was a voice from out of the light, and its tones were a gasp +of astonishment and alarm.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing here, father?” the voice asked. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span>There was a +strange familiarity in the tones, and the dreamer struggled for +recollection; but before it came to him the voice went on with a wild +exclamation of horror. “Father! The bandage!”</p> + +<p>The dreamer wondered; and something drew his attention to the +wolf-man. He saw that the creature was eyeing the light with ferocious +purpose in its expression. It was all so real that he felt a wild +thrill of excitement as he watched for what was to happen. But the +voice out of the light again spoke, and he found himself listening.</p> + +<p>“Go!” it said in a tone of command, and thrilling with horror and +indignation. “Go! or—no, dare to lay a hand on me, and I’ll dash the +lamp in your face! Go now! or I will summon help. It is at hand, +below. And armed help.”</p> + +<p>There was a pause. The wolf-man stared at the light with villainous +eyes, but the contemplated attack was not forthcoming. The creature +muttered something which the dreamer lost. Then it moved away; not as +it had come, but groping its way blindly. A moment later the light +went out too, the cries of the coyotes were hushed, and the moon shone +down on the scene as before. And the dreamer, still feeling himself +imprisoned, watched the great yellow globe until it disappeared below +the horizon. Then, as the darkness closed over him, he seemed to +sleep, for the scene died out and recollection faded away.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE RENUNCIATION</h3> + +<p>The early morning sun was streaming in through the window of the sick +man’s room when Tresler at last awoke to consciousness. And, curiously +enough, more than half an hour passed before Diane became aware of the +change in her patient.</p> + +<p>And yet she was wide awake too. Sleep had never been further from her +eyes, and her mind never more alert. But for the first time since +Tresler had been brought in wounded, his condition was no longer first +in her thoughts. Something occupied her at the moment of his waking to +the exclusion of all else.</p> + +<p>The man lay like a log. His eyes were staring up at the ceiling; he +made no movement, and though perfect consciousness had come to him +there was no interest with it, no inquiry. He accepted his position +like an infant waking from its healthy night-long slumber. Truth to +tell, his weakness held him prisoner, sapping all natural inclination +from mind and body. All his awakening brought him was a hazy, +indifferent recollection of a bad dream; that, and a background of the +events at Willow Bluff.</p> + +<p>If the man were suffering from a bad dream, the girl’s expression +suggested the terrible reality of her thought. There was something +worse than horror in <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>her eyes, in the puckering of her brows, in the +nervous compression of her lips. There was a blending of terror and +bewilderment in the brown depths that contemplated the wall before +her, and every now and then her pretty figure moved with a palpable +shudder. Her thoughts were reviewing feverishly scenes similar to +those in her patient’s dream, only with her they were terrible +realities which she had witnessed only a few hours before in that very +room. At that moment she would have given her life to have been able +to call them dreams. Her lover’s life had been attempted by the +inhuman process of reopening his wound.</p> + +<p>Should she ever forget the dreadful scene? Never! Not once, but time +and again her brain pictured each detail with a distinctness that was +in the nature of physical pain. From the moment she awoke, which had +been unaccountable to her, to find herself still propped against the +foot-rail of her bed, to the finish of the dastardly scene in the +sick-room was a living nightmare. She remembered the start with which +she had opened her eyes. As far as she knew she had heard nothing; +nothing had disturbed her. And yet she found herself sitting bolt +upright, awake, listening, intent. Then her rush to the lamp. Her +guilty feelings. The unconscious stealth of her tiptoeing to the +landing outside. Her horror at the discovery that her obstruction to +the staircase had been removed, and the chairs, as though to mock the +puerility of her scheming, set in orderly fashion, side by side +against the wall to make way for the midnight intruder. The closed +door of the sick-room, which yielded to her touch and revealed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span>the +apparition of her father bending over her lover, and, with no +uncertainty of movement, removing the bandage from the wounded neck. +The terror of it all remained. So long as she lived she could never +forget one single detail of it.</p> + +<p>Even now, though hours had passed since these things had happened, the +nervousness with which she had finally approached the task of +readjusting the bandage still possessed her. And even the thankfulness +with which she discovered that the intended injury had been frustrated +was inadequate to bring her more than a passing satisfaction. She +shuddered, and nervously turned to her patient.</p> + +<p>Then it was that she became aware of his return to life.</p> + +<p>“Jack! Oh, thank God!” she murmured softly.</p> + +<p>And the sound of the well-loved voice roused the patient’s interest in +the things about him.</p> + +<p>“Where am I?” he asked, in a weak whisper, turning his eyes to the +face so anxiously regarding him.</p> + +<p>But Diane’s troubles had been lifted from her shoulders for the moment +and the nurse was uppermost once more. She signed to him to keep quiet +while she administered the doses Doc. Osler had prepared for him. Then +she answered his question.</p> + +<p>“You are in the room adjoining mine,” she said quietly.</p> + +<p>Her woman’s instinct warned her that no more reassuring information +could be given him.</p> + +<p>And the result justified it. He smiled faintly, and, in a few moments, +his eyes closed again and he slept.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p><p>Then the girl set about her work in earnest. She hurried down-stairs +and communicated the good news to Joe. She went in search of Jake, to +have a man despatched for the doctor. For the time at least all her +troubles were forgotten in her thankfulness at her lover’s return to +life. Somehow, as she passed out of the house, the very sunlight +seemed to rejoice with her; the old familiar buildings had something +friendly in their bald, unyielding aspect. Even the hideous corrals +looked less like the prisons they were, and the branding forges less +cruel. But greatest wonder of all was the attitude of Jake when she +put her request before him. The giant smiled upon her and granted it +without demur. And, in her gladness, the simple child smiled back her +heartfelt thanks. But her smile was short-lived, and her thanks were +premature.</p> + +<p>“I’m pretty nigh glad that feller’s mendin’,” Jake said. “Say, he’s a +man, that feller.” He turned his eyes away and avoided her smiling +gaze, and continued in a tone he tried to make regretful. “Guess I was +gettin’ to feel mean about him. We haven’t hit it exac’ly. I allow +it’s mostly temper between us. Howsum, I guess it can’t be helped +now—now he’s goin’.”</p> + +<p>“Going?” the girl inquired. But she knew he would be going, only she +wondered what Jake meant.</p> + +<p>“Sure,” the foreman said, with a sudden return to his usual manner. +“Say, your father’s up against him good and hot. I’ve seen Julian +Marbolt mad—madder’n hell; but I ain’t never seen him jest as mad as +he is against your beau. When Tresler gits right he’s got to +quit—quick. I’ve been wonderin’ what’s fixed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span>your father like that. +Guess you ain’t been crazy enough to tell him that Tresler’s been +sparkin’ you?”</p> + +<p>The girl’s smile died out, and her pretty eyes assumed a look of stony +contempt as she answered with spirit. And Jake listened to her reply +with a smile on his bold face that in no wise concealed his desire to +hurt her.</p> + +<p>“Whatever happens Mr. Tresler doesn’t leave our house until Doc. Osler +gives the word. Perhaps it will do you good to further understand that +the doctor will not give that word until I choose.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a silly wench!” Jake exclaimed angrily. Then he became +scornful. “I don’t care that much for Tresler, now.” Nevertheless he +gave a vicious snap with his fingers as he flicked them in the air. “I +wish him well enough. I have reason to. Let him stay as long as you +can keep him. Yes, go right ahead an’ dose him, an’ physic him; an’ +when he’s well he’s goin’, sure. An’ when he’s out of the way maybe +you’ll see the advantage o’ marryin’ me. How’s that, heh? There, +there,” he went on tauntingly, as he saw the flushing face before him, +and the angry eyes, “don’t get huffed, though I don’t know but what +you’re a daisy-lookin’ wench when you’re huffed. Get right ahead, +milady, an’ fix the boy up. Guess it’s all you’ll ever do for him.”</p> + +<p>Diane had fled before the last words came. She had to, or she would +have struck the man. She knew, only too well, how right he was about +Tresler; but this cruelty was unbearable, and she went back to the +sick-room <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span>utterly bereft of the last shadow of the happiness she had +left it with.</p> + +<p>The doctor came, and brought with him a measure of comfort. He told +her there was nothing to be considered now but the patient’s weakness, +and the cleansing of the wound. In his abrupt manner he suggested a +diet, and ordered certain physic, and finally departed, telling her +that as her room adjoined her patient’s there would be no further need +of sitting up at night.</p> + +<p>And so three weeks passed; three weeks of rapid convalescence for +Tresler, if they were spent very much otherwise by many of the +settlers in the district. Truth to tell, it was the stormiest time +that the country had ever known. The check the night-riders had +received at Willow Bluff had apparently sent them crazy for revenge, +which they proceeded to take in a wholly characteristic manner. +Hitherto their depredations had been comparatively far apart, +considerable intervals elapsing between them, but now four raids +occurred one after the other. The police were utterly defied; cattle +were driven off, and their defenders shot down without mercy. These +monsters worked their will whithersoever they chose. The sheriff +brought reinforcements up, but with no other effect than to rouse the +discontent of the ranchers at their utter failure. It seemed as though +the acts of these rustlers was a direct challenge to all authority. A +reign of terror set in, and settlers, who had been in the country for +years, declared their intention of getting out, and seeking a place +where, if they had to pay more for their land, they would at least +find protection for life and property.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p><p>Such was the position when Tresler found himself allowed to move about +his room, and sit in a comfortable armchair in the delightful sunlight +at his open window. Nor was he kept in ignorance of the doings of the +raiders. Diane and he discussed them ardently. But she was careful to +keep him in ignorance of everything concerning herself and her father. +He knew nothing of the latter’s objection to his presence in the +house, and he knew nothing of the blind man’s threats, or that fearful +attack he had perpetrated in one of his fits of mad passion.</p> + +<p>These days, so delightful to them both, so brimful of happiness for +him, so fraught with such a blending of pain and sweetness for her, +had stolen along almost uncounted, unheeded. But like all such +overshadowed delights, their end came swiftly, ruthlessly.</p> + +<p>The signal was given at the midday meal. The rancher, who had never +mentioned Tresler’s name since that memorable night, rose from the +table to retire to his room. At the door he paused and turned.</p> + +<p>“That man, Tresler,” he said, in his smooth, even tones. “He’s well +enough to go to the bunkhouse. See to it.”</p> + +<p>And he left the girl crushed and helpless. It had come at last. She +knew that she could keep her lover no longer at her side. Even Doc. +Osler could not help her, and, besides, if she refused to obey, her +father would not have the slightest compunction in attending to the +matter in his own way.</p> + +<p>So it was with a heavy heart she took herself up-stairs for the +afternoon. This <i>tête-à-tête</i> had become <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span>their custom every day; she +with her sewing, and the sick man luxuriating in a pipe. Tresler was +still bandaged, but it was only lightly, for the wound was almost +healed.</p> + +<p>The girl took up her position as usual, and Tresler moved his chair +over beside the little table she laid her work on, and sat facing her. +He loved to gaze upon the sad little face. He loved to say things to +her that would rouse it from its serious caste, and show him the +shadows dispelled, and the pretty smile wreathing itself in their +stead. And he had found it so easy too. The simplicity, the honesty, +the single-mindedness of this prairie flower made her more than +susceptible to girlish happiness, even amidst her troublous +surroundings. But he knew that these moments were all too passing, +that to make them enduring he must somehow contrive to get her away +from that world of brutality to a place where she could bask, +surrounded by love and the sunshine of a happy home. And during the +days of his convalescence he planned and plotted for the consummation +of his hopes.</p> + +<p>But he found her more difficult to-day. The eyes were a shade more +sad, and the smile would not come to banish the shadows. The sweet +mouth, too, always drooping slightly at the corners, seemed to droop +more than usual to-day. He tried, in vain, every topic that he thought +would interest her, but at last himself began to experience the +depression that seemed to weigh so desperately on her. And strangely +enough this dispiriting influence conjured up in his mind a morbid +memory, that until then had utterly escaped him. It was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span>the dream he +had the night before his awakening. And almost unconsciously he spoke +of it.</p> + +<p>“You remember the day I woke to find myself here, Danny?” he said. “It +just occurs to me now that I wasn’t unconscious all the time before. I +distinctly remember dreaming. Perhaps I was only asleep.”</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head.</p> + +<p>“You were more than asleep,” she said portentously.</p> + +<p>“Anyhow, I distinctly remember a dream I had. I should say it was +‘nightmare.’ It was about your father. He’d got me by the throat, +and—what’s the matter?”</p> + +<p>Diane started, and, to Tresler’s alarm, looked like fainting; but she +recovered at once.</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” she said, “only—only I can’t bear to think of that time, +and then—then—father strangling you! Don’t think of your dream. +Let’s talk of something else.”</p> + +<p>Tresler’s alarm abated at once; he laughed softly and leant forward +and kissed her.</p> + +<p>“Our future—our little home. Eh, dearest?” he suggested tenderly.</p> + +<p>She returned his embrace and made a pitiful attempt to smile back into +the eyes which looked so eagerly into hers. And now, for the first +time, her lover began to understand that there really was something +amiss with her. It was that look, so wistful, so appealing, that +roused his apprehension. He pressed her to tell him her trouble, +until, for sheer misery, she could keep it from him no longer.</p> + +<p>“It’s nothing,” she faltered, with trembling lips.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p><p>Watching her face with a lover’s jealousy he kept silence, for he knew +that her first words were only her woman’s preliminary to something +she considered serious.</p> + +<p>“Jack,” she said presently, settling all her attention upon her work, +“you’ve never asked me anything about myself. Isn’t that unusual? +Perhaps you are not interested, or perhaps”—her head bent lower over +her work—“you, with your generous heart, are ready to take me on +trust. However,” she went on, before he could interrupt her, “I intend +to tell you what you refuse to ask. No,” as he leant forward and +kissed her again, “now sit up and light your pipe. There are to be no +interruptions like that.”</p> + +<p>She smiled wistfully and gently pushed him back into his chair.</p> + +<p>“Now,” she began, as he settled himself to listen, “I must go back +such a long, long way. Before I was born. Father was a sea captain +then. First the captain of a whaler, afterward he bought a ship of his +own and traded round the East Indies. He often used to talk of those +days, not because he had any desire to tell me of them, but it seemed +to relieve him when he was in a bad temper. I don’t know what his +trade was, but I think it was of an exciting nature. He often spoke of +the risks, which, he said, were amply compensated by the money he +made.” Tresler smiled gravely. “And father must have made a lot of +money at that time, for he married mother, bought himself a fine house +and lands just outside Kingston, in Jamaica, and, I believe, he kept a +whole army of black servants. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span>Yes, and he has told me, not once, but +a hundred times, that he dates all his misfortunes from the day he +married my mother, which always seems unfair to her anyway. Somehow I +can never think of father as ever having been a kind man, and I’ve no +doubt that poor mother had anything but an easy time of it with him. +However, it is not for me to criticize.” She paused, but went on +almost immediately. “Let me see, it was directly after the honeymoon +that he went away on his last trading trip. He was to call at Java. +Jake was his mate, you know, and they were expecting to return in six +months’ time with a rich harvest of what he calls ‘Black Ivory.’ I +think it was some native manufacture, because he had to call at the +native villages. He told me so. But the trip was abandoned after three +weeks at sea. Father was stricken down with yellow fever. And from +that day to this he has never seen the light of day.”</p> + +<p>The girl pushed her work aside and went on drearily.</p> + +<p>“When he recovered from the fever he was brought home, as he said +himself, ‘a blind hulk.’ Mother nursed him back to health and +strength, but she could not restore his sight. I am telling you these +things just as I have gleaned them from him at such moments as he +chose to be communicative. I imagine, too, from the little things he +sometimes let fall when he was angry, that all this time he lived in a +state of impotent fury against all the world, against God, but +particularly against the one person to whom he should have been most +grateful—mother. All his friends deserted him <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span>in consequence of his +bitter temper—all, that is, except Jake. At last in desperation, he +conceived the idea of going to Europe. At first mother was going with +him, but though he was well able to afford the additional expense he +begrudged it, and, changing his mind, decided to go alone. He sold his +ship, settled his affairs, and went off, and for three years he +traveled round Europe, visiting every eye-doctor of note in all the +big capitals. But it was all no good, and he returned even more soured +than he went away. It was during his absence that I was born.”</p> + +<p>Again Diane paused. This time it was some moments before she +proceeded.</p> + +<p>“To add to his troubles,” she at last resumed, in a low tone, “mother +was seriously ill when he got back, and, the day of his return, died +in his presence. After that, whatever his disposition was before, it +seems to have become a thousand times worse. And when he is angry now +he takes a painful delight in discussing the hatred and abhorrence all +the people of Kingston held him in, and the hatred and abhorrence he +returns to mankind in general. By his own accounts he must have been +terrible. However, this has nothing to do with our history. +Personally, I remember nothing but this ranch, but I understand that +he tried to resume his old trade in the Indies. For some reason this +failed him; trouble occurred, and he gave it up for good, and came out +to this country and settled here. Again, to quote his words, ‘away +from men and things that drove him distracted.’ That,” she finished +up, “is a brief sketch of our history.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p><p>“And just such a story as I should imagine your father had behind him. +A most unhappy one,” Tresler observed quietly. But he was marveling at +the innocence of this child who failed to realize the meaning of +“black ivory.”</p> + +<p>For a little while there was a silence between them, and both sat +staring out of the window. At last Diane turned, and when she spoke +again there was an ominous quivering of the lips.</p> + +<p>“Jack,” she said, “I have not told you this without a purpose.”</p> + +<p>“No, I gathered that, dear,” he returned. “And this profound purpose?” +he questioned, smiling.</p> + +<p>Her answer was a long time in coming. What she had to do was so hard.</p> + +<p>“Father doesn’t like you,” she said at last in desperation.</p> + +<p>Tresler put his pipe aside.</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t seem to me he likes anybody very much, unless it’s Jake. +And I wouldn’t bet a pile on the affection between them.”</p> + +<p>“He likes Jake better than anybody else. At least he trusts him.”</p> + +<p>“Which is a fair equivalent in his case. But what makes you think he +dislikes me more than most people?”</p> + +<p>“You remember that night in the kitchen, when you asked me to——”</p> + +<p>“Marry? Yes. Could I ever forget it?”</p> + +<p>Tresler had taken possession of one of the small hands lying in the +girl’s lap, but she gently withdrew it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span></p><p>“I was weeping, and—and you saw the bruises on my arms. Father +disapproved of my talking to you——”</p> + +<p>“Ah! I understand.” And he added, under his breath, “The brute!”</p> + +<p>“He says I must give you up.”</p> + +<p>Tresler was looking straight before him at the window. Now he turned +slowly and faced her. His expression conveyed nothing.</p> + +<p>“And you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it is so hard!” Diane burst out, in distress. “And you make it +harder. Yes,” she went on miserably, “I have to give you up. I must +not marry you—dare not——”</p> + +<p>“Dare not?”</p> + +<p>The question came without the movement of a muscle.</p> + +<p>“Yes, he says so. Oh, don’t you see? He is blind, and I—I am his +only—oh, what am I saying?”</p> + +<p>Tresler shook his head.</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid you are saying a lot of—nonsense, little woman. And what +is more, it is a lot of nonsense I am not going to take seriously. Do +I understand that you are going to throw me over simply because he +tells you to?”</p> + +<p>“Not only because of that.”</p> + +<p>“Who told him about us?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind. Perhaps I can guess. You have grown tired of me already?”</p> + +<p>“You know I haven’t, Jack.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span></p><p>Diane put out a hand and gently laid it on one of his. But his +remained unresponsive. This sudden awakening from his dream of love +had more than startled him. It had left him feeling resentful against +somebody or something; at present he was not sure who or what. But he +meant to have it out, cost what it might.</p> + +<p>“That’s all right, then,” he said. “Now, tell me this other reason.” +Suddenly he leant forward and looked down into her eyes. His hands, +now thin and delicate, held hers tightly in a passionate clasp, and +his face was alight with the truth and sincerity of his love. +“Remember,” he said, “this is no child’s play, Danny. I am not the man +to give you up easily. I am weak, I know; but I’ve still got a fight +in me, and so long as I am assured of your love, I swear nothing shall +part us. I love you as I have never loved anybody in my life—and I +just want only you. Now tell me this other reason, dear.”</p> + +<p>But Diane still hesitated. Her evident distress wrung her lover’s +heart. He realized now that there was something very serious behind it +all. He had never beheld anything so pitiful as the look with which +she turned toward him, and further tried to put him off.</p> + +<p>“Father says you are to leave this house to-day. Afterward you will be +turned off the ranch. It is only through the sheriff backing the +doctor’s orders that you were not turned out of here before.”</p> + +<p>Tresler made no response for a moment. Then he burst out into a hard, +mirthless laugh.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span></p><p>“So!” he exclaimed, his laugh dying abruptly. “Listen to me. Your +father can turn me out of this house—though I’ll save him that +trouble—but he can’t turn me off this ranch. My residence here is +bought and paid for for three years. The agreement is signed and +sealed. No, no, let him try another bluff.” Then his manner changed to +one of gentle persuasion. “But you have not come to the real reason, +little one. Out with it. It is a bitter plum, I can tell. Something +which makes you dread not only its consequences, but—something else. +Tell it me, Danny. Whatever it is you may be sure of me. My love for +you is unalterable. Believe me, nothing shall come between us.”</p> + +<p>His voice was infinitely tender, and its effect on Diane was to set +two great tears rolling down her cheeks as she listened. He had driven +her to a corner, and there was no escape. But even so she made one +more effort to avoid her shameful disclosure.</p> + +<p>“Will—will you not take me at my word, Jack?” she asked imploringly.</p> + +<p>“Not in this, dearest,” he replied.</p> + +<p>He spoke inexorably, but with such a world of love in his voice that +the long-pent tears came with a rush. He let her weep. He felt it +would do her good. And, after a while, when her sobs had ceased, he +urged her again.</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” he whispered.</p> + +<p>“I——”</p> + +<p>The man waited with wonderful patience.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t—don’t make me!” she cried.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I must.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p><p>And at last her answer came in the faintest of whispers.</p> + +<p>“I—I—father is—is only my legal father. He was away three years. I +was born three days before he returned.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well.” Tresler sat quite still for a moment while the simple +girl sat cowering under the weight of her mother’s shame. Then he +suddenly reached out and caught her in his arms. “Why, Danny,” he +cried, pressing her to him, “I never felt so happy over anything in my +life as the fact that Julian Marbolt is not your father.”</p> + +<p>“But the shame of it!” cried the girl, imagining that her lover had +not fully understood.</p> + +<p>“Shame? Shame?” he cried, holding her still tighter in his arms. +“Never let me hear that word on your lips again. You are the truest, +sweetest, simplest child in the world. You are mine, Danny. My very +own. And I tell you right here that I’ve won you and will hold you to +my last dying day.”</p> + +<p>Now she was kneeling beside him with her face pillowed on his breast, +sobbing in the joy of her relief and happiness. And Tresler kissed her +softly, pressing his cheek many times against the silky curls that +wreathed about her head. Then, after a while, he sat looking out of +the window with a hard, unyielding stare. Weak as he was, he was ready +to do battle with all his might for this child nestling so trustfully +in his arms.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>HOT UPON THE TRAIL</h3> + +<p>The most welcome thing that had happened to the men on the ranch for +many a long day was Tresler’s return to the bunkhouse. He was hailed +with acclamation. Though he had found it hard to part with Diane under +the doubtful circumstances, there was some compensation, certainly +gratification, in the whole-hearted welcome of his rough comrades. It +was not the effusion they displayed, but the deliberateness of their +reception of him, that indexed their true feelings. Teddy Jinks +refused to serve out the supper hash until Tresler had all he +required. Lew Cawley washed out a plate for him, as a special favor; +and Raw Harris, pessimist as he was, and who had a way of displaying +the fact in all the little every-day matters of life, cleaned and +sharpened a knife for him by prodding it up to the hilt in the +hard-beaten earth, and cleaned the prongs of a fork with the edge of +his buckskin shirt. But he could not thus outrage his principles +without excusing himself, which he did, to the effect that he guessed +“invalid fellers need onusual feedin’.” Jacob Smith, whose habit it +was to take his evening meals seated at the foot of the upright log +which served as part of the door casing, and which contact with his +broad, buckskin-covered shoulders had polished till it shone +resplendently, renounced his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span>coveted position in the invalid’s favor. +Tresler was a guest of honor, for whom, on this one occasion at least, +nothing was too good. And in this position Arizona supported him, +cursing the flies that fell into his friend’s pannikin of tea, and +hooking them out with the point of his hash-besmeared knife as he sat +on his log beside him. Joe, too, had come down specially to share the +meal, but he, being a member of the household, was very small fry at +the bunkhouse.</p> + +<p>And Tresler delighted in the kindness thus showered on him. The +freedom from the sick-room did him good; the air was good to breathe, +the plain, wholesome food was good; but most of all those bronzed, +tough faces around him seemed to put new life and vigor into his +enfeebled frame. He realized that it was high time that he was at work +again.</p> + +<p>And there was lots for him to hear. Every man among them had something +to add to the general hash of events, and in their usual way proceeded +to ladle it out without regard for audience, contradicting, +interrupting, cursing, until the unfortunate man who was the butt of +their remarks found himself almost overpowered by the babel.</p> + +<p>At length Arizona drew them up with one of his sudden “yanks.”</p> + +<p>“Say,” he cried, his eyes glaring fiercely and embracing the whole +party with a great, comprehensive roll, “you fellers is like a crowd +o’ coyotes around a bone. I ’lows Tresler ain’t an a’mighty deal +better’n a bone about now, but his lugs ain’t deef. Y’re jest a +gorl-darned lot o’ oneddicated hoboes.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span></p><p>Which attack had the effect of reducing the pandemonium, but in no way +suppressing the ardent spirits of the party. It acted as a challenge, +which Jacob Smith promptly took up.</p> + +<p>“Say, boys,” he cried, “we’re goin’ to git eddication from Arizona!”</p> + +<p>His remark was followed by a derisive roar of laughter at Arizona’s +expense. But the moment it had subsided the derided one shot out his +retort.</p> + +<p>“Guess ther’s things and critturs down our country we don’t never +figger to eddicate—them’s hogs.”</p> + +<p>“Fer the reason which they knows more’n you,” returned Jacob, in no +way worried by the personality.</p> + +<p>The boys considered the point achieved by Jacob, and another laugh at +Arizona’s expense went up. He had stumped the cowpuncher, who now +entered the fight with wonderfully good-natured zest.</p> + +<p>“Say,” he observed, “I ain’t had a heap to do wi’ your folks, Jacob, +but I’m guessin’ ef you’re talkin’ Gospel, things don’t run in your +fam’ly.”</p> + +<p>“Call him a hog right out, Arizona,” put in Raw, lazily.</p> + +<p>“I ain’t callin’ Jacob no hog; et ’ud be a nasty trick—on the hog,” +observed the ready-tongued man.</p> + +<p>“Hallo, Jacob!” cried Lew, as the laugh turned on the other man this +time.</p> + +<p>But Arizona resented the interference, and rounded on him promptly.</p> + +<p>“Say, you passon feller, I ain’t heerd tell as it’s the ways o’ your +country to butt in an’ boost folk on to a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span>scrap. It’s gener’ly sed +you’re mostly ready to do the scrappin’.”</p> + +<p>“Which means?” Lew grinned in his large way.</p> + +<p>“Wal, it mostly means—let’s hear from you fust hand.”</p> + +<p>“It’s not much use hearing from me on the subject of hogs. They aren’t +great on ’em in my country. Besides, you seem quite at home with ’em.”</p> + +<p>Arizona sprang to his feet, and, walking over to the hulking form of +the parson’s son, held his hand out.</p> + +<p>“Shake,” he said, with a grin that drew his parchment-like skin into +fierce wrinkles; “we live in the same shack.”</p> + +<p>Lew laughed with the rest, and when it died down observed—</p> + +<p>“Look here, Arizona, when you get talking ‘hog’ you stand alone. The +whole Northwest bows to you on that subject. Now go and sit down like +a peaceable citizen, and remember that a man who is such a master in +the craft of hog-raising, who has lived with ’em, bred ’em, fed on +’em, and whose mental vision is bounded by ’em, has no right to down +inoffensive, untutored souls like ourselves. It isn’t generous.”</p> + +<p>Arizona stood. He looked at the man; then he glanced at each face +around him and noted the smiles. One hand went up to his long, black +hair and he scratched his head, while his wild eyes settled themselves +on Tresler’s broadly grinning features. Suddenly he walked back to his +seat, took up his dish of hash and continued his supper, making a +final remark as he ate.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p><p>“Langwidge? Gee! I pass.”</p> + +<p>And during the rest of the meal “hog” found no place. They discussed +the topic of the day threadbare. The night-riders filled their +thoughts to the exclusion of all else, and Tresler learned the details +of their recent exploits, and the opinion of each man on the outrages. +Even Teddy Jinks, youthful and only “slushy” as he was, was listened +to, so absorbed were these men in their cattle world.</p> + +<p>“It’s my belief,” that reedy youth said, with profound finality, +“they’re working fer a bust up. I’d gamble one o’ Arizona’s hogs to a +junk o’ sow-belly ther’ ain’t no more of them rustlers around come the +fall. Things is hot, an’ they’re goin’ to hit the trail, takin’ all +they ken get right now.”</p> + +<p>It was good to be listening to the rough talk of these fellows again. +So good that Tresler prolonged this, his first meal with them after +such a long absence, to the last possible minute. Then he reluctantly +filled his pipe, put away his plate and pannikin, and strolled over to +the barn in company with Arizona. He went to inspect his mare; he was +fond and justly proud of her. With all her vagaries of temper she was +a wonderful beast. Arizona had told him how she had brought both of +them into the ranch from Willow Bluff on that memorable night.</p> + +<p>“Guess it’s a real pity that sheriff feller hadn’t got her when he hit +Red Mask’s trail,” observed Arizona, while he watched Tresler gently +pass his hands over each leg in turn. “Clean, eh?” he asked presently.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span></p><p>“Yes. The limbs of a race-horse. Has she been ridden while I’ve been +sick?”</p> + +<p>“Nope; she’s jest stood guzzlin’ oats.”</p> + +<p>“I shall have a time when I get into the saddle again.”</p> + +<p>They moved out and stood at the door in full view of the house. The +evening was drawing in. The sun was on the horizon, and the purple +night shades were rising out over the eastern sky.</p> + +<p>“Arizona,” Tresler said a little later, “I’ve got an unpleasant task +before me. I’ve just seen Marbolt pass the window of his den. I want a +few words with him. I think I’ll go now.”</p> + +<p>“’Bout the leddy?” inquired the cowpuncher.</p> + +<p>“You’ve struck it.”</p> + +<p>“Wal, git right along. I’d sooner it wus you than me, I guess. Howsum, +I’ll set right hyar. Mebbe I’ll be handy ef you’re wantin’ me.”</p> + +<p>Tresler laughed. “Oh, it’s all right,” he said. “I’m not dealing with +Jake.”</p> + +<p>“Nope,” replied the other, settling himself on a saddle-tree. Then, +after a thoughtful pause, “which is regret’ble.”</p> + +<p>Tresler walked away in the direction of the house. He was weak, and +did the journey slowly. Nor did he feel comfortable. However, he was +doing what he knew to be right, and, as he ruefully reminded himself, +it was seldom pleasant to do one’s duty. His object was simply a +matter of form, but one which omitted would give Marbolt reason for +saying things. Besides, in justice to Danny and himself he must ask +her father’s <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span>consent to their engagement. And as he thought of the +uselessness of it he laughed bitterly to himself. Did not the rancher +know? And had he not fully explained his views on the matter?</p> + +<p>Arizona watched Tresler wabbling unsteadily toward the house and +applied many mental epithets of an uncomplimentary nature on his +“foolheadedness.” Then he was joined by Joe, who had also observed +Tresler’s visit.</p> + +<p>The little man waved a hand in the direction of the retreating figure.</p> + +<p>“Wher’s he goin’?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Guess it’s ’bout the leddy,” replied Arizona, shortly.</p> + +<p>“An’ he wus boosted out ’cause of her,” the other said significantly. +“Kind o’ minds you of one o’ them terriers.”</p> + +<p>“Yup. Or a cow wi’ a ca’f.”</p> + +<p>“On’y he don’t make no fuss. Guess it’s a terrier.”</p> + +<p>And Joe accompanied his final decision with an emphatic nod.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the object of their remarks had made his way to the house +and stood before the blind arbiter of his fate in the latter’s little +office. The rancher was sitting at his table with his face directed +toward the window, and his red eyes staring at the glowing sunset. And +so he remained, in spite of Tresler’s blunt announcement of himself.</p> + +<p>“It is necessary for me to see you, Mr. Marbolt,” he said.</p> + +<p>And he stood waiting for his answer. It came, after <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span>some moments, in +a tone that offered no encouragement, but was more civil than he +expected.</p> + +<p>“Since you say so, I suppose it is.”</p> + +<p>Quite indifferent and certainly undaunted, Tresler proceeded—</p> + +<p>“You have already been informed how matters stand between your +daughter and myself.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I am here, then, to formally ask your consent to our engagement.”</p> + +<p>The red eyes moved from their contemplation of the sunset, and their +dead, leech-like stare fixed itself upon the undisturbed face of the +would-be son-in-law.</p> + +<p>“Tresler,” the man said, in a manner that left little to the +imagination, “I have only one answer for you. You have become +offensive to me on this ranch, and I shall be glad if you will remove +yourself as quickly as possible. I shall refund you the money you have +paid, and your agreement can be torn up.”</p> + +<p>“Then you will not consider my proposal?”</p> + +<p>“I have already answered you.”</p> + +<p>Tresler looked hard at the face before him. Mask-like as it was, it +yet conveyed something of the fierce temper behind it. He was glad he +saw something of it, for he felt more justified in the heat of his own +feelings. The man’s words were a studied insult, and he was not one to +submit to insults from anybody.</p> + +<p>“I emphatically refuse, then, to remove my offensive person,” he +replied, with a great assumption of calmness. “Furthermore, I will not +entertain the return of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span>my premium. I am here for three years’ +instruction, already paid for. That instruction I demand. You will +understand it is not in your power to have my offensive person removed +either legally or forcibly. The latter especially, since it would cost +you far more than you would find it pleasant to pay.”</p> + +<p>He expected to witness one of those outbursts of fury such as the +blind man had recently displayed toward Jake in his presence. But +nothing of the kind happened. His manner remained the same.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry,” he said, with something almost like a smile. “You drive +me to an alternative, which, if less convenient, is perhaps, on the +whole, more satisfactory. My daughter will have to go. I was prepared +for this, and have already made arrangements for her to visit certain +friends this day fortnight, for an indefinite period. You quite +understand, Tresler, you will not see her again. She will remain away +until you leave here. Of course, in the meantime, should you take it +into your head to follow her, you are clear-headed enough to see that +your agreement with me would be broken. Then she would return at once, +and the question of force to keep you apart would be entirely in my +hands. Further, I must tell you that while she is away she will be +living in an obscure settlement many miles from here, where all +letters addressed to her will be opened before she receives them.”</p> + +<p>The blind man turned away, indicating that the interview was ended, +but Tresler stood his ground, though he fully realized how thoroughly +this man had outwitted him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span></p><p>“At least she will be happier away from here,” he said significantly.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” retorted the other, with diabolical meaning.</p> + +<p>Tresler’s exasperation could no longer be restrained. “Your conduct is +inhuman to thus persecute a helpless girl, your daughter.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, my daughter. Yes?”</p> + +<p>But the other gave no heed to the sneer. “You have no right to stand +between us,” he went on angrily. “You have no reasonable grounds. I +tell you straight I will not submit. When your daughter is of age I +will take her from this home, which is no home to her, from you who +have never been a father to her.”</p> + +<p>“True,” assented the other, with an aggravating calmness.</p> + +<p>“You will have no power to interfere then. The law——”</p> + +<p>“Enough of this nonsense,” the rancher interrupted, with his first +sign of impatience. “You’ll never marry Diane while I live. Take it +from me. Now—get out!”</p> + +<p>And somehow, in spite of himself, Tresler found himself outside the +house and moving in the direction of the bunkhouse at the most rapid +pace his weakness permitted. But before he reached his destination +Jake intercepted him, and he had little doubt in his mind that the man +had seen him go to the house and had waited for his return.</p> + +<p>“Wal?” he said, drawling out his inquiry, as though the contemplation +of the answer he would receive gave him more than ordinary +satisfaction. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span>“Guess blind hulks is a pretty hard man to deal with, +eh? You’re goin’ to quit us?”</p> + +<p>Tresler was in no mood for this man’s sneers. “No,” he said. “On the +contrary, I stay till my time’s out.”</p> + +<p>Jake could not conceal his surprise and chagrin. “You ain’t quittin’?”</p> + +<p>“No.” Tresler really enjoyed his discomfiture.</p> + +<p>“An’ you’re goin’——”</p> + +<p>“No.” A thought suddenly occurred to him. He could hand something on +to this man. “Miss Marbolt is going to be sent away until such time as +I leave this ranch. Nearly three years, Jake,” he finished up +maliciously.</p> + +<p>Jake stood thoughtfully contemplating the other’s shrunken figure. He +displayed no feeling, but Tresler knew he had hit him hard.</p> + +<p>“An’ she’s goin’, when?” he asked at last.</p> + +<p>“This day fortnight.”</p> + +<p>“Ah. This day fortnight.”</p> + +<p>After that Jake eyed his rival as though weighing him up in his mind +along with other things; then he said quietly—</p> + +<p>“Guess he’d best have sent her right now.” And, with this enigmatical +remark, he abruptly went back to his shack.</p> + +<p>A week saw Tresler in the saddle again. His recuperative powers were +wonderful. And his strength returned in a manner which filled his +comrades with astonishment. Fresh air and healthy work served as far +better tonics than anything the horse-doctor had given him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span></p><p>And the week, at least to Tresler, was full of portent. True, the +rustlers had been quiet, but the effect of their recent doings was +very apparent. The sheriff was now in constant communication with the +ranch. Fyles visited Julian Marbolt frequently, holding long +consultations with him; and a significant fact was that his men made +the place a calling station. He realized that the long arm of the law +was seriously at work, and he wondered in what direction the real +object lay, for he quite understood that these open movements, in all +probability, cloaked the real suspicions. Both he and Joe were of +opinion that the sheriff was acting on some secret information, and +they puzzled their heads to fathom the depths of the wily officer’s +motives.</p> + +<p>Then happened something that Tresler had been expecting for some time. +He had not seen Fyles to speak to since the Willow Bluff incident, and +this had caused him some wonder. Therefore, one day while out on a +distant pasture, rounding up a small bunch of yearlings, he was in no +way surprised to see the farmer-like figure of the sheriff appear over +the brow of a rising ground, and canter his raw-boned horse down +toward him.</p> + +<p>And that meeting was in the nature of an eye-opener to Tresler. He +learned something of the machinery that was at work; of the system of +espionage that was going on over the whole district, and the subtle +means of its employment. He learned, amongst other things, something +of what Jake was doing. How he was in constant touch with a number of +half-breeds of the most disreputable type, and that his doings were of +the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span>most underground nature. He also learned that his own personal +efforts in conveying warning before Willow Bluff were more than +appreciated, and, finally, that Fyles wanted him to further act in +concert with him.</p> + +<p>Acceding to the officer’s request he was then informed of certain +other things for his future guidance. And when the man had gone, +disappearing again over the rising ground, in the same ghostly fashion +that he had appeared, he looked after him, and, in reviewing all he +had heard, marveled how little he had been told, but what a lot had +been suggested, and how devilish smart that farmer-like man, in spite +of his recent failures, really was.</p> + +<p>And during those days Tresler heard very little from Diane; which +little came from Joe Nelson. Now and again she sent him a +grief-stricken note alluding to her departure. She told him, although +Joe had done so already, that her father had brought Anton into the +house for the express purpose of preventing any communication with +him, Tresler, and to generally keep sentry over her. She told him much +that made his heart bleed for her, and made him spend hours at night +writing pages of cheering messages to her. There was no help for it. +He was powerless to do more than try to console her, and he frequently +found himself doubting if the course he had selected was the right +one; if he were not aggravating her position by remaining on the +ranch. His reason told him that it was surely best. If she had to go +away, she would, at least, be free of Jake, and, no matter what +condition the people to whom she was to be sent, no worse associations +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span>than the combination of the blind man and his mate could possibly be +found for her anywhere.</p> + +<p>It was a poor sort of consolation with which he bolstered himself, and +he spent many miserable hours during those last few days. Once he had +said to Joe, “If I could only see her for a few minutes it might be +some measure of comfort to us both.” But Joe had shaken his gray head. +“It ain’t no use,” he said. “You can’t take no chances foolin’ wi’ +Anton around. ’Sides, things might be wuss,” he finished up, with a +considerable emphasis.</p> + +<p>And so Tresler had to be content; ill at ease, chafing, but quite +powerless. In truth the rancher had outwitted him with a vengeance; +moreover, what he had said he soon showed that he meant, for Joe +brought him the news, two days before the date fixed for departure, +that Diane was making her preparations, and had even begun to pack up.</p> + +<p>And all this time Jake was very cheerful. The men on the ranch never +remembered an easier time than the foreman was giving them now. He +interfered very little with the work, and, except at the morning +muster, they hardly saw anything of him. Tresler he never came near. +He seemed to have forgotten that he had ever discussed Anton with him. +It may have been that that discussion had only been inspired on the +impulse of the moment, or it may have been—and Tresler thought this +far more likely—he had deeper plans. However, the man, in face of +Diane’s departure, was unusually cheerful, and the wise old Joe +quickly observed the fact.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span></p><p>For Joe to observe anything of interest was the cue for him to inquire +further, and thus he set himself to watch Jake. And his watching +quickly resulted in Tresler’s attention being called to Jake’s +movements at night. Joe found that night after night Jake left the +ranch, always on foot, but he left it for hours at a time. Twice +during the last week he did not return until daylight. All this was +more than interesting, but nothing developed to satisfy their +curiosity until the last day of Diane’s stay on the ranch. Then Jake +visited her, and, taking her out of the kitchen, had a long +confabulation with her in the open. Joe watched them, but, much to his +disgust, had no means of learning the man’s object. However, there was +only one thing for him to do, and he did it without delay: he hurried +down to convey his news to Tresler, who was having supper at the +bunkhouse.</p> + +<p>Taking him on one side he imparted his tidings hurriedly. And in +conclusion spoke with evident alarm.</p> + +<p>“Ther’s suthin’ doin’,” he said, in, for him, quite a condition of +excitement. “I can’t locate it nohow. But Jake, he’s that queer. See, +he’s jest gone right into his shack. Ther’s suthin’ doin’, sure.”</p> + +<p>“And didn’t you ask her what it was all about?” asked Tresler, +catching something of the other’s manner.</p> + +<p>“Wal, no. That is, I guess I mentioned it like, but Miss Dianny wus +that flustrated an’ kind o’ angry she jest went right up to her room, +an’ I thought best to git around hyar.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span></p><p>Tresler was thinking hard; and while he thought he stood watching the +door where they had both seen Jake disappear. It occurred to him to go +and seek Diane for himself. Poor girl, she would surely tell him if +there were anything wrong. After all, he had the right to know. Then +he thought of Anton.</p> + +<p>“Was Anton——?”</p> + +<p>He had turned to Joe, but his remark was cut short. Jake’s door +suddenly opened and the foreman came hurriedly out. Joe caught his +companion by the arm, and they both looked after the giant as he +strode away toward the barn. And they simultaneously became aware of +something unsteady in his gait. Joe was the first to draw attention to +it.</p> + +<p>“Say, he’s bin drinkin’,” he whispered, in an awed manner.</p> + +<p>Tresler nodded. This was something quite new. Jake, with all his +faults, was not usually given to drink. On the contrary, he was a +particularly sober man.</p> + +<p>Tresler swiftly made up his mind. “I’m going to see what’s up, Joe,” +he said. “Do you see? He’s making for Marbolt’s stable.”</p> + +<p>It was almost dusk. The men had settled down to their evening’s +occupations. Tresler and Joe were standing alone in the shadow of the +bunkhouse wall. The lamp was lit within the building, and the glow +from the window, which was quite near them, darkened the prospect +still further. However, Tresler still could see the foreman, an +indistinct shadow in the growing darkness.</p> + +<p>Leaving his companion without further remark he <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span>hurried after the +disappearing man and took up his position near the barn, whence he +could both see and hear what might be going forward.</p> + +<p>Jake reached the door of the stable and knocked on it in a forceful +and peremptory manner.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>BY THE LIGHT OF THE LAMP</h3> + +<p>Impelled by curiosity and nervous anticipation Tresler did not long +remain in the shelter of the barn. It was too dark to see distinctly +all that way off, so he closed up on the object of his watch. He +intended to miss nothing of what was happening, so he crept out into +the open, quite careless of the chances of being discovered at his +undignified occupation.</p> + +<p>And all the time he was a prey to unpleasant foreboding; that +unaccountable foreboding so truly prophetic, which refuses to be +shaken off. He knew that disaster was in the air as surely as if it +had all happened, and there was nothing left for him but to gaze +impotently upon the ruin. He had a certain amount of reason for his +fears, of course, but that reason was largely speculative, and, had he +been asked to state definitely what he anticipated, on whom disaster +was to fall, he could not have answered with any real conviction. +Something prompted him that Jake was to be the central figure, the +prime mover. But beyond that his ideas were vague. The man’s very +summons at the door was a positive aggravation, and suggested +possibilities.</p> + +<p>An answer came with the abrupt opening of the stable door, which +revealed the lithe figure of the dusky <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span>half-breed, framed in a +setting of dingy yellow light from the lantern within. He could see +the insolent, upward stare of the man’s eyes as he looked up into the +great man’s face; nor at that moment could he help thinking of all he +had heard of “Tough” McCulloch. And the recollection brought him a +further feeling of uneasiness for the man who had thus come to beard +him in his own den.</p> + +<p>But even while these thoughts passed swiftly through his brain the +bullying, hectoring tones of Jake’s voice came to him. They were +unnecessarily loud, and there was a thickness in them which +corroborated the evidence of his uneven gait. Jake had certainly been +priming himself with spirit.</p> + +<p>“Where was you last night, Anton?” he heard him ask.</p> + +<p>“An’ wher’ should I be, Mr. Jake?” came the half-breed’s sullen +retort.</p> + +<p>“That ain’t no answer,” the other cried, in a vicious tone.</p> + +<p>The half-breed shrugged with apparent indifference, only there was no +indifference in the resentful flash of his eyes.</p> + +<p>“I not answer to you,” he said, in his broken way, throwing as much +insolence as he could into his words.</p> + +<p>Jake’s fury needed no urging; the spirit had wound him up to the +proper pitch.</p> + +<p>“You black son-of-a——,” he cried, “you shall answer to me. For two +pins I’d wring your blasted neck, only I’m savin’ that fer the rope. +I’ll tell you wher’ <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span>you was last night. You wer’ out. Out with the +horses. D’you hear? And you weren’t at the Breed camp neither. I know +wher’ you was.”</p> + +<p>“Guess you shoot your mouth off,” Anton said, with dangerous calmness. +“Bah! I tell you I stay right hyar. I not out. You mad! Voilà!”</p> + +<p>Suddenly Jake’s hand went up as though to strike the man, but the blow +did not fall. His arm dropped to his side again; for once caution +saved him. Tresler felt that had the blow fallen there might perhaps +have been a sudden and desperate end to the scene. As it was he +listened to Jake’s final words, with every nerve throbbing.</p> + +<p>“You lie, you black son-of-a——; you lie!”</p> + +<p>And then he saw him swing round on his heel and stride away to the +rancher’s house, as if he could no longer control himself and sought +safety in flight.</p> + +<p>For the moment the watcher was so interested in the half-breed that he +lost the significance of the foreman’s going. Anton was still standing +in the doorway, and the expression of his face was plainly visible in +the lamplight. There was a saturnine grin about the lower part of the +features, but the black eyes were blazing with a deep fire of hatred. +He looked after the departing man until he reached the verandah, then +suddenly, as though an inspiration had moved him, he vanished at a run +within the stable.</p> + +<p>Now Tresler became aware of Jake’s object. He had mounted the verandah +and was making for the door of the house. And this sight moved him to +immediate action. Without a second thought he set off at a run <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span>to +warn Diane of the visit. Why he wished to warn her he did not know. +Perhaps it was the result of premonition, for he knew quite well that +it was Jake’s custom to wait on his chief at about this time in the +evening.</p> + +<p>He skirted the house well out of range of the light of its windows, +and came to the kitchen just in time to hear the blind man calling to +his daughter for a light. And when Diane returned from obeying the +order she found him waiting for her. Her first feeling was one of +apprehension, then love overcame her fears and she ran to him.</p> + +<p>“Jack!” she whispered softly. “You here?”</p> + +<p>He folded her in a bear-like embrace, and as she raised her face to +him to speak he stopped her with a rain of kisses. The joy of the +moment had driven the object of his coming from his head, and they +stood heart to heart, lost in their mutual happiness, until Jake’s +voice, raised in bitter imprecation, reached them from the office. +Then Tresler abruptly put her from him.</p> + +<p>“I had forgotten, dear,” he said, in a whisper. “No, don’t close that +door.” Diane had moved over to the door leading into the dining-room. +“Leave it open. It is on that account I am here.”</p> + +<p>“On what account?” the girl asked, in some perplexity.</p> + +<p>“Jake. There’s something up, and—hark!”</p> + +<p>They stood listening. The foreman’s voice was raised again. But now +Marbolt’s broke in, sharp, incisive. And the words were plainly +audible.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span></p><p>“Keep your voice down,” he said. “D’you want the girl to hear +everything? You were always a blunderer, Jake.”</p> + +<p>“Blunderer be ——” But he nevertheless lowered his tone, for the +listeners could distinguish nothing more.</p> + +<p>“He’s up to some devil’s work,” Tresler whispered, after making sure +they could hear no more. “Danny,” he went on eagerly, “I must slip +into the hall and try and hear what’s going on. I must be ready +to——Listen! He’s cursing again. Wait here. Not a sound; not a word! +There’s going to be trouble.”</p> + +<p>And his assertion seemed to have reason enough, for the rancher’s +sharp tones were now mingling with the harsher note of the other, and +both had raised their voices again. Tresler waited for nothing now. He +tiptoed to the door and stood listening. Then he crept silently out +into the hall and stole along toward the blind man’s office. He paused +as he drew near the open door, and glanced round for some hiding-place +whence he could see within. The hall was unlit, and only the faintest +light reached it from the office. There was a long, heavy overcoat +hanging on the opposite wall, almost directly in front of the door, +and he made for it, crossing the hall in the darkest part, and sidling +along in the shadow until he reached it. Here he drew it in front of +him, so that he only elongated its outline and yet obtained a full +view of the room.</p> + +<p>Jake was not visible. And Tresler concluded that he was sitting in the +chair which he knew to be behind the door. But the blind man was +almost directly in <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span>front of him. He was seated beside the small +window table on which the lamp stood, a safety lamp, especially +reserved for his use on account of his blindness. His ruddy eyes were +staring in the direction in which Tresler believed Jake to be sitting, +and such was the effect of that intent stare that the watching man +drew well within his cover, as though he feared the sightless sockets +would penetrate his hiding-place.</p> + +<p>But even from this vantage ground he found his purpose thwarted. Jake +was talking, but his voice was so low that it only reached him in a +thick growl which blurred his words into a hazy murmur. Therefore he +fixed his attention on the man facing him, watching, and seeking +information from his expression and general attitude.</p> + +<p>And what he beheld riveted his attention. Whatever control the blind +man had over himself—and Tresler had reason to know what wonderful +control he had—his expression was quite unguarded now. There was a +devilish cruelty in every line in his hard, unyielding features. His +sanguinary eyes were burning with a curiously real live +light—probably the reflection of the lamp on the table—and his +habitually knit brows were scowling to an extent that the eyes beneath +them looked like sparks of living fire. And though he was lounging +comfortably back in his chair, without energy, without alertness, and +one arm was resting on the table at his side, and his outstretched +fingers were indolently drumming out a tattoo on the bare wood, his +breath was coming short and fast, in a manner that belied his +attitude.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span></p><p>Had Tresler only seen behind the door he would have been startled, +even alarmed. The inflamed Jake was oblivious to everything but his +own purpose. His mind was set on the object of his talk, to the +exclusion of all else. Just then he had not the slightest fear of the +blind man. There was nothing of the submission about him now that he +had displayed once before in Tresler’s presence. It was the spirit he +had imbibed that had fortified him for the time. It is probable that +Jake, at that moment, had no fear of either man or devil.</p> + +<p>And, though Tresler could not distinguish a word, his talk was +braggart, domineering, and there was a strong flavor of drink in its +composition. But even so, there was a relentless purpose in it, too.</p> + +<p>“Ther’ ain’t no option fer you, Marbolt,” Jake was saying. “You’ve +never given me an option, and I’m not goin’ to be such a blazing fool +as to give you one. God A’mighty, Marbolt, ther’ never was a man +treated as I’ve been by you. We’ve been together fer donkey’s years, I +guess. ’Way back in them old days, when we was mates, before you was +blind, before you was cranked against ’most everybody, when we +scrapped agin them black-backs in the Indies side by side, when we +quarreled an’ made friends again, I liked you, Marbolt, an’ I worked +honest by you. There wa’n’t nothin’ mean to you, then, ’cep’ in +handin’ out dollars. I hadn’t no kick comin’ those days. I worked fer +so much, an’ I see I got it. I didn’t ask no more, an’ I guess I +didn’t want. That’s all right. Then you got blind an’ you changed +round. That’s where the rub come. I was no <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span>better than the rest to +you. You fergot everything that had gone. You fergot I was a square +dealin’ man by you, an’ since that time I’ve been dirt under your +feet. Pshaw! it ain’t no use in talkin’; you know these things just as +well as I do. But you might have given me a show. You might have +treated me ‘white.’ It was to your interest. I’d have stayed by you. +I’d have done good by you. An’ I’d have been real sorry when you died. +But I ain’t no use fer that sort o’ thing now. What I want I’m goin’ +to have, an’ you’ve got to give—see? It ain’t a question of +‘by-your-leave’ now. I say right here I want your gal.”</p> + +<p>The man paused. But Marbolt remained undisturbed. He still beat an +idle tattoo on the table, only his hand had drawn nearer to the lamp +and the steady rapping of his fingers was a shade louder, as though +more nervous force were unconsciously finding outlet in the movement.</p> + +<p>“So you want my girl,” he said, his lips scarcely parting to let the +tone of his voice pass.</p> + +<p>“Ay,” Jake said emphatically, “I want that gal as I took out o’ the +water once. You remember. You said she’d fell overboard, after I’d +hauled her back on to the ship out o’ reach o’ the sharks. That’s what +you said—after.”</p> + +<p>He paused significantly. If he had expected any display from his +hearer he must have been disappointed. The other remained quite still +except for those moving fingers tapping their way nearer and nearer +the lamp.</p> + +<p>“Go on.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span></p><p>“Wal, I’ve told you how I stand, an’ I’ve told you how you stand,” +Jake proceeded, with his voice ever so little raised. He felt that the +other was too easy. And, in his unimaginative way, he thought he had +spoken too gently. “An’ I say again I want that gal fer my wife. Time +was when you would have been glad to be quit of her, ’bout the time +she fell overboard. Being ready to part then, why not now? I’m goin’ +to get her,—an’ what do I pay in return? You know. You’ll go on +ranchin’ in peace. I’ll even stay your foreman if you so want. I’ll +shut right down on the business we both know of, an’ you won’t have +nothin’ to fear. It’s a fair an’ square deal.”</p> + +<p>“A fair and square deal; most generous.”</p> + +<p>Even Jake detected the sarcasm, and his anger rose at once. But he +gave no heed to those fingers which had now transferred their +attention to the brass body of the lamp.</p> + +<p>“I’m waitin’ fer your answer,” he said sharply.</p> + +<p>Tresler now heard his words for the first time.</p> + +<p>“Go slow, Jake, go slow,” retorted the rancher. “I like to digest the +position thoroughly. You put it so well.”</p> + +<p>The sarcasm had grown more fierce by reason of the restraint the +rancher was putting on himself. And this restraint was further evident +in the movement of the hand which had now settled itself upon the body +of the lamp, and clutched it nervously.</p> + +<p>Jake no longer kept check on himself. And his answer came in a roar.</p> + +<p>“You shall take my price, or——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span></p><p>“Keep calm, you blundering jackass!” the blind man rasped between his +clenched teeth.</p> + +<p>“No, you don’t, Mr. blasted Marbolt!” cried Jake, springing to his +feet and moving out to the middle of the room threateningly. “No, you +don’t!” he cried again; “I’ve had enough of that. God’s curse on you +for a low swine! I’ll talk no more; it’s ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ Remember”—he +bent over toward the sitting man and pointed in his face with fierce +delight—“I am your master now, an’ ef you don’t do as I say, by +G——! but I’ll make you whine for mercy.”</p> + +<p>And Marbolt’s answer came with a crash of brass and smashing of glass, +a leap of flame, then darkness, as he hurled the lamp to the floor and +extinguished it. It came in silence, but a silence ruffled by the +sound of sudden movement. It came, as was only to be expected from a +man like him, without warning, like the silent attack of a puma, and +with as deadly intent.</p> + +<p>Tresler could see nothing, but he knew that death was hovering over +that room for some one. Suddenly he heard the table dragged or pushed +across the floor, and Jake’s voice, harsh with the effort of struggle, +reached him.</p> + +<p>“You would, would you? Right; it’s you or me!”</p> + +<p>At that moment the onlooker was about to rush forward, for what +purpose he had but the vaguest idea. But even as he took the first +step he felt himself seized forcibly by the arm from behind. And +Diane’s voice whispered in his ear.</p> + +<p>“Not you, Jack!” she said eagerly. “Leave it to me; I—I can save +him—Jake.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span></p><p>“Jake?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>She was gone, and in an instant returned with the lighted kitchen +lamp, which she held aloft as she rushed into the room.</p> + +<p>Tresler was taken utterly by surprise. The girl’s movements were so +sudden, so unexpected, and her words so strange.</p> + +<p>There she stood in the middle of the room with the light held above +her head like some statue. And all the signs of a deadly struggle were +about her. Jake was sheltered behind the window table, and stood +blinking in the sudden light, staring at her in blank astonishment. +But the chief figure of interest was the blind man. He was groping +about the opposite edge of the table, pitifully helpless, but snarling +in impotent and thwarted fury. His right hand was still grasping the +hilt of a vicious-looking, two-edged hunting-knife, whose point +Tresler saw was dripping blood.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he turned fiercely on the girl. For the moment he had been +held silent, confounded, but now his voice rang out in an access of +fury.</p> + +<p>“You jade!” he cried, and moved as though to attack her.</p> + +<p>Tresler was about to leap to her assistance, but at that instant the +man’s attention was suddenly diverted. Jake saw his chance and made +for the door. With a bitter imprecation the blind man lunged at him as +he went, fell against the table, and stumbled almost to the ground. +Instantly the girl took advantage of his position <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span>and followed Jake +out, slamming the door behind her and swiftly turning the key as she +went.</p> + +<p>Diane had shown herself in a new light. Her presence of mind was +startling, and the whole thing was enacted so swiftly that Tresler +failed to grasp the full meaning of it all. Jake had not seen him. In +a blind rush he had made for the hall door and passed out. The only +thing that seemed real to Tresler was Diane’s safety, and he caught +her by the arm to take her to the kitchen. But the girl’s readiness +would permit of no such waste of time.</p> + +<p>“No,” she whispered quickly. “Leave me and follow Jake. Joe is in the +kitchen and will protect me if need be. Quick!” she went on, stamping +her foot in her excitement. “Go! Look to him. There must be no murder +done here.”</p> + +<p>And Tresler was forced, much against his will, to leave her. For the +moment Diane had soared to a height of alertness and ready action +which was irresistible. Without a word he went, passing out of the +front door.</p> + +<p>Jake had left the verandah, and, in the moonlight, Tresler could see +him moving down the hill in the direction of his shack. He followed +him swiftly. But he was too late. The whole thing happened before his +very eyes, while he was yet too far off to stay the ruthless act, +before his warning shout could serve.</p> + +<p>He saw a figure dart out from the rancher’s stable. He saw it halt and +stand. He saw one arm stretched out, and he realized and shouted to +Jake.</p> + +<p>The foreman stood, turned, a pistol-shot rang out, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span>and he fell on his +face. Tresler ran forward, but before he could reach him two more +shots rang out, and a third sent its bullet whistling past his own +head.</p> + +<p>He ran for the man who had fired them. He knew him now; it was Anton. +But, fleet of foot, the half-breed had reached the stable, where a +horse stood ready saddled. He saw him vault into the saddle, and he +saw him vanish into the adjacent woods. Then, at last, he gave up the +chase and ran back to the fallen man.</p> + +<p>Kneeling at his side he raised the great leonine head. The man was +alive, and he shouted to the men at the bunkhouse for aid. But even as +he called Jake spoke.</p> + +<p>“It ain’t no good,” he said, in a hoarse tone. “I’m done. Done up by +that lyin’ son-of-a——, ‘Tough’ McCulloch. I might ’a’ known. Guess +I flicked him sore.” He paused as the sound of running feet came from +the bunkhouse and Arizona’s voice was calling to know Tresler’s +whereabouts. Then the foreman’s great frame gave a shiver. “Quick, +Tresler,” he said, in a voice that had suddenly grown faint; +“ther’ ain’t much time. Listen! get around Widow Dangley’s +place—to-night—two—mornin’ all——”</p> + +<p>There came a rattle of flowing blood in his throat which blurred +anything else he had to say. But he had said sufficient. Tresler +understood.</p> + +<p>When Arizona came up Jake, so long the bully of Mosquito Bend, had +passed over the One-Way Trail. He died shot in three places, twice in +the chest and once in the stomach. Anton, or rather “Tough” McCulloch, +had done his work with all the consummate <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span>skill for which he had once +been so notorious. And, as something of this flashed through Tresler’s +brain, another thought came with it, prompted by the presence of +Arizona, who was now on his knees beside him.</p> + +<p>“It’s Anton, Arizona,” he said. “Jake riled him. He shot him, and has +bolted through the wood, back there, mounted on one of Marbolt’s +horses. He’s making for the hills. Quick, here, listen! the others are +coming. You know ‘Tough’ McCulloch?”</p> + +<p>“Wal?” There was an ominous ring in Arizona’s voice.</p> + +<p>“You’d like to find him?”</p> + +<p>“Better’n heaven.”</p> + +<p>“Anton is ‘Tough’ McCulloch.”</p> + +<p>“Who told you?”</p> + +<p>“Jake, here. I didn’t mention it before, because—because——”</p> + +<p>“Did you say the hills?”</p> + +<p>Arizona had risen to his feet. There was no emotion in his manner. +They might have been discussing the most ordinary topic. Now the rest +of the men crowded round. And Tresler heard the rancher’s voice +calling from the verandah to inquire into the meaning of the shots. +However, heedless of the others, he replied to the cowpuncher’s +question.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Shake. S’long.”</p> + +<p>The two men gripped and Arizona faded away in the uncertain light, in +the direction of the barn.</p> + +<p>And the dead Jake was borne by rough but gentle hands into his own +shack. And there was not one <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span>amongst those “boys” but would have been +ready and eager to help him, if help had been possible. Even on the +prairie death atones for much that in life is voted intolerable.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>AT WIDOW DANGLEY’S</h3> + +<p>Inside the hut, where Jake had so long been master, the boys were +grouped round the bunk on which their old oppressor was laid out; the +strong, rough fellows were awed with the magnitude of the outrage. +Jake, Jake Harnach, the terror of the ranch, “done up.” The thought +was amazing. Tresler was quietly stripping clothes from the dead man’s +upper body to free the wounds for the doctor’s inspection, and Raw +Harris was close beside him. It was while in the midst of this +operation that the former came upon another wound. Raw Harris also saw +it, and at once drew his attention.</p> + +<p>“Guess I heerd four shots,” he said. “Say, that feller Anton was a +daddy. Four of ’em, an’ all found their mark. I ’lows this one’s on’y +a graze. Might ’a’ bin done wi’ a knife, et’s so clean. Yes, sirree, +he was a daddy, sure.”</p> + +<p>As no one seemed inclined to contradict the statement that Anton was a +“daddy,” and as the question of four shots or three was of no vital +interest to the onlookers, the matter passed unheeded. Only Tresler +found food for reflection. That fourth wound he knew had not been +inflicted by the half-breed. He remembered <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span>the rancher’s knife and +its dripping point, and he remembered Jake’s cry, “You would, would +you!” He needed no other explanation.</p> + +<p>While the two men were still bending over their task there was a +slight stir at the open door. The silent onlookers parted, leaving a +sort of aisle to the bedside, and Julian Marbolt came shuffling his +way through them, heralded by the regular tap, tap, of his guiding +stick.</p> + +<p>It was with many conflicting emotions that Tresler looked round when +he heard the familiar sound. He stared at the man as he might stare at +some horrid beast of prey, fascinated even against himself. It would +have been hard to say what feeling was uppermost with him at the +moment. Astonishment, loathing, expectation, and even some dread, all +struggled for place, and the combination held him silent, waiting for +what that hateful presence was to bring forth. He could have found it +in his heart to denounce him then and there, only it would have served +no purpose, and would probably have done much harm. Therefore he +contented himself with gazing into the inflamed depths of the man’s +mysterious eyes with an intentness he had never yet bestowed upon +them, and while he looked all the horror of the scene in the office +stole over him again and made him shudder.</p> + +<p>“Where is he—where is Jake?” the blind man asked, halting accurately +at the bedside.</p> + +<p>The question was directed at no one in particular, but Tresler took it +upon himself to answer.</p> + +<p>“Lying on the bed before you,” he said coldly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span></p><p>The man turned on him swiftly. “Ah—Tresler,” he said.</p> + +<p>Then he bent over the bed, and his hands groped over the dead man’s +body till they came into contact with the congealing blood round the +wound in his stomach.</p> + +<p>With a movement of repulsion he drew back sharply. “He’s not dead?” he +questioned, with a queer eagerness, turning round to those about him.</p> + +<p>“Yes, he is dead,” replied Tresler, with unintentional solemnity.</p> + +<p>“Who—who did it?”</p> + +<p>The question came in a tense voice, sharper and more eagerly than the +preceding one.</p> + +<p>“Anton,” chorused the men, as though finding relief from their long +silence in the announcement. The crime was even secondary to the +personality of the culprit with them. Anton’s name was uppermost in +their minds, and so they spoke it readily.</p> + +<p>“Anton? And where is he? Have you got him?”</p> + +<p>The rancher had turned about, and addressed himself generally.</p> + +<p>“Anton has made off with one of your horses,” said Tresler. “I tried +to get him, but he had too much start for me. I was on foot.”</p> + +<p>“Well, why are you all here? Have none of you sense enough to get +after him?”</p> + +<p>“Arizona is after him, and, until the sheriff comes, he is sufficient. +He will never leave his trail.”</p> + +<p>There was no mistaking the significance Tresler conveyed in his last +remark. The rancher took him up sharply.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span></p><p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Arizona has no love for Anton.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! And Jake. Who found him? Who was there when he died?”</p> + +<p>Marbolt’s eyes had fixed themselves on Tresler’s face. And the latter +had no hesitation in suiting his reply to his own purpose.</p> + +<p>“I found him—dead; quite dead. His death must have been +instantaneous.”</p> + +<p>“So.”</p> + +<p>Marbolt turned back to the bed.</p> + +<p>The rancher stood over the dead man in silence for some minutes. Then, +to Tresler’s horror, he broke out into a low-voiced lamentation, the +hypocrisy of which made him want to seize him by the throat and choke +the words ere they were uttered.</p> + +<p>“My poor old Jake!” he said, with infinite pity. “Poor old Jake!” he +repeated, addressing the dead man sorrowfully. “I wish now I’d taken +your advice about that rascal and got rid of him. And to think that +you should be the man on whom he was to wreak his treachery. I wonder +how it came about. It must have been that rough temper of yours. +Tresler,” he cried, pointing to the still form on the bed, “there lies +the truest, the only friend I ever had. That man has stood by me when +all others left me. Yes, we’ve fought side by side in the Indian days; +ay, and further back still. I remember when he would have defended me +with his life; poor Jake! I suppose he had his faults, the same as +most of us have. Yes, and I wager his temper took him foul of Anton. +Poor old Jake! <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span>I suppose we shall never know the truth of this.” He +paused. Then he cried fiercely, “Damn it! Men, every one of you, I’ll +give a thousand dollars to the one who brings Anton back, dead or +alive. Dead from preference, then he won’t escape us. A thousand +dollars. Now, who?”</p> + +<p>But Tresler could stand it no longer. “Don’t trouble, Mr. Marbolt,” he +said icily. “It is no use your offering rewards. The man who has gone +after Anton will find him. And you can rest satisfied he’ll take +nothing from you on that score. You may not know Arizona; I do.”</p> + +<p>“You are confident,” the other retorted, resentful at once.</p> + +<p>“I have reason to be,” came the decided answer.</p> + +<p>Marbolt shook his close-cropped head. His resentment had gone from his +manner again. He had few moods which he was unable to control at will. +That was how it seemed to Tresler.</p> + +<p>“I hope truly it may be as you say. But I must still doubt. However,” +he went on, in a lighter tone, “in the meantime there is work to be +done. The doctor must be summoned. Send some one for doctor and +sheriff first thing to-morrow morning, Tresler. It is no use worrying +them to-night. The sheriff has his night work to do, and wouldn’t +thank us for routing him out now. Besides, nothing can be done until +daylight! And the doctor is only needed to certify. Poor old Jake!”</p> + +<p>He turned away with something very like a sigh. Half-way to the door +he paused.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span></p><p>“Tresler, you take charge of things to-night. Have this door locked. +And,” he added, with redoubled earnestness, “are you sure Arizona will +hunt that man down?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly.”</p> + +<p>Tresler smiled grimly. He fancied he understood the persistence.</p> + +<p>There was a moment’s silence. Then the stick tapped, and the rancher +passed out under the curious gaze of his men. Tresler, too, looked +after him. Nor was there any doubt of his feelings now. He knew that +his presence in the house during Marbolt’s murderous assault on Jake +was unsuspected. And Marbolt, villainous hypocrite that he was, was +covering his tracks. He loathed the blind villain as he never thought +to have loathed anybody. And all through his thoughts there was a +cold, hard vein of triumph which was utterly foreign to his nature, +but which was quite in keeping with his feelings toward the man with +whom he was dealing.</p> + +<p>As Julian Marbolt passed out the men kept silence, and even when the +distant tapping of his stick had died away. Tresler looked round him +at these hardy comrades of his with something like delight in his +eyes. Joe was not there, which matter gave him satisfaction. The +faithful little fellow was at his post to care for Diane. Now he +turned to Harris.</p> + +<p>“Raw,” he said, “will you ride in for the doctor?”</p> + +<p>“He said t’-morrer,” the man objected.</p> + +<p>“I know. But if you’d care to do me a favor you’ll ride in and warn +the doctor to-night, and then—ride <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span>out to Widow Dangley’s and meet +us all there, <i>cachéd</i> in the neighborhood.”</p> + +<p>The man stared; every man in that room was instantly agog with +interest. Something in Tresler’s tone had brought a light to their +eyes which he was glad to see.</p> + +<p>“What is ’t?” asked Jacob, eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Ay,” protested Raw; “no bluffin’.”</p> + +<p>“There’s no bluffing about me,” Tresler said quickly. “I’m dead in +earnest. Here, listen, boys. I want you all to go out quietly, one by +one. It’s eight miles to Widow Dangley’s. Arrange to get there by +half-past one in the morning—and don’t forget your guns. There’s a +big bluff adjoining the house,” he suggested significantly. “I shall +be along, and so will the sheriff and all his men. I think there’ll be +a racket, and we may—there, I can tell you no more. I refrained from +asking Marbolt’s permission; you remember what he said once before. +We’ll not risk saying anything to him.”</p> + +<p>“I’m in to the limit,” said Raw, with decision.</p> + +<p>“Guess we don’t want no limit to this racket. We’ll jest get right +along,” said Jacob, quietly.</p> + +<p>And after that the men filed out one by one. And when the last had +gone, Tresler put the lamp out and locked the door. Then he quietly +stole up to the kitchen and peered in at the window. Diane was there, +so was Joe, with two guns hanging to his belt. He had little +difficulty in drawing their attention. There was no dalliance about +his visit this time. He waived aside the eager questions with which +the girl assailed him, and merely gave her a quiet warning.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span></p><p>“Stay up all night, dear,” he said, “but do not let your father know +it.”</p> + +<p>To Joe he said: “Joe, if you sleep a wink this night I’ll never +forgive you.”</p> + +<p>Then he hurried away, satisfied that neither would fail him, and went +to the barn. Without a word, almost without a sound, he saddled the +Lady Jezebel.</p> + +<p>His mare ready, he went and gazed long and earnestly up at the +rancher’s house. He was speculating in his mind as to the risk he was +running. Not the general risk, but the risk of success or failure in +his enterprise.</p> + +<p>He waited until the last of the lights had gone out, and the house +stood out a mere black outline in the moonlight, then he disappeared +within the barn again, and presently reappeared leading his fractious +mare. A few moments later he rode quietly off. And the manner of his +going brought a grim smile to his lips, for he thought of the ghostly +movements of the night-riders as he had witnessed them. His way lay in +a different direction from that of his comrades. Instead of taking the +trail, as they had done, he skirted the upper corral and pastures, and +plunged into the black pinewoods behind the house.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>The Widow Dangley’s homestead looked much more extensive in the +moonlight than it really was. Everything was shown up, endowed with a +curious silvery burnish which dazzled the eyes till shadows became +magnified into buildings, and the buildings themselves <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span>distorted out +of all proportion. Hers was simply a comfortable place and quite +unpretentious.</p> + +<p>The ranch stood in a narrow valley, in the midst of which a small +brook gurgled its way on to the Mosquito River, about four miles +distant. The valley was one of those sharp cuttings in which the +prairie abounds, quite hidden and unmarked from the land above, lying +unsuspected until one chances directly upon it. It was much like a +furrow of Nature’s ploughing, cut out to serve as a drainage for the +surrounding plains. It wound its irregular course away east and west, +a maze of undergrowth, larger bluff, low red-sand cut-banks and +crumbling gravel cliffs, all scattered by a prodigal hand, with a +profusion that seemed wanton amidst the surrounding wastes of +grass-land.</p> + +<p>The house stood on the northern slope, surrounded on three sides by a +protecting bluff of pinewoods. Then to the right of it came the +outbuildings, and last, at least one hundred and fifty yards from the +rest, came the corrals, well hidden in the bluff, instead, as is +usual, of being overlooked by the house. Certainly Widow Dangley was a +confiding person.</p> + +<p>And so Tresler, comparatively inexperienced as he was, thought, as he +surveyed the prospect in the moonlight from the back of his mare. He +was accompanied by Sheriff Fyles, and the two men were estimating the +chances they were likely to have against possible invaders.</p> + +<p>“How goes the time?” asked the sheriff, after a few moments’ silent +contemplation of the scene.</p> + +<p>“You’ve half an hour in which to dispose your forces. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span>Ah! there’s one +of your fellows riding down the opposite bank.” Tresler pointed across +the valley.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and there’s another lower down,” Fyles observed quietly. “And +here’s one dropping down to your right. All on time. What of your +men?”</p> + +<p>“They should be in yonder bluff, backing the corrals.”</p> + +<p>“How many?”</p> + +<p>“Four, including the cook.”</p> + +<p>“Four, and sixteen of mine—twenty. Our two selves—twenty-two. Good; +come on.”</p> + +<p>The man led the way to the bluff. The cowboys were all there. They +received instructions to hold the position at the corrals; to defend +them, or to act as reinforcements if the struggle should take place +elsewhere. Then the two leaders passed on down into the valley. It was +an awkward descent, steep, and of a loose surface that shelved under +their horses’ feet. For the moment a cloud had obscured the moon, and +Fyles looked up. A southwesterly breeze had sprung up, and there was a +watery look about the sky.</p> + +<p>“Good,” he said again, in his abrupt manner. “There won’t be too much +moon. Moonlight is not altogether an advantage in a matter of this +sort. We must depend chiefly on a surprise. We don’t want too many +empty saddles.”</p> + +<p>At the bottom of the valley they found the rest of the men gathered +together in the shelter of the scattered undergrowth. It was Fyles’s +whole command. He proceeded at once to divide them up into two +parties. One he stationed east of the ranch, split into a sort of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span>skirmishing order, to act under Tresler’s charge. The other party he +took for his own command, selecting an advantageous position to the +west. He had also established a code of signals to be used on the +approach of the enemy; these took the form of the cry of the +screech-owl. Thus, within a quarter of an hour after their arrival, +all was in readiness for the raiders, and the valley once more +returned to its native quiet.</p> + +<p>And how quiet and still it all was! The time crept on toward the +appointed hour. The moon was still high in the heavens, but its light +had grown more and more uncertain. The clouds had become dense to a +stormy extent. Now and then the rippling waters of the brook caught +and reflected for a moment a passing shaft of light, like a silvery +rift in the midst of the valley, but otherwise all was shadow. And in +the occasional moonlight every tree and bush and boulder was magnified +into some weird, spectral shape, distorting it from plain truth into +some grotesque fiction, turning the humblest growth into anything from +a grazing steer to a moving vehicle; from a prowling coyote to a log +hut. The music of the waking night-world droned on the scented air, +emphasizing the calm, the delicious peace. It was like some fairy +kingdom swept by strains of undefined music which haunted the ear +without monotony, and peopled with shadows which the imagination could +mould at its pleasure.</p> + +<p>But in the eagerness of the moment all this was lost to the waiting +men. To them it was a possible battleground; with a view to cover, it +was a strategic position, and they were satisfied with it. The cattle, +turned loose <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span>from the corrals, must pass up or down the valley; +similarly, any number of men must approach from one of these two +directions, which meant that the ambush could not be avoided.</p> + +<p>At last the warning signal came. An owl hooted from somewhere up the +valley, the cry rising in weird cadence and dying away lingeringly. +And, at the same time, there came the sound of a distant rumble, like +the steady drone of machinery at some far-off point. Tresler at once +gave up his watch on the east and centred all attention upon the west. +One of his own men had answered the owl’s cry, and a third screech +came from the guard at the corrals.</p> + +<p>The rumble grew louder. There were no moving objects visible yet, but +the growing sound was less of a murmur; it was more detached, and the +straining ears distinctly made out the clatter of hoofs evidently +traveling fast down the valley trail. On they came, steadily hammering +out their measure with crisp precision. It was a moment of tense +excitement for those awaiting the approach. But only a moment, +although the sensation lasted longer. The moon suddenly brought the +whole thing into reality. Suspense was banished with its revealing +light, and each man, steady at his post, gripped his carbine or +revolver, ready to pour in a deadly fire the moment the word should be +given. A troop of about eighteen horsemen dashed round a bend of the +valley and plunged into the ambush.</p> + +<p>Instantly Fyles’s voice rang out. “Halt, or we fire!” he cried.</p> + +<p>The horsemen drew rein at once, but the reply was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span>a pistol-shot in +the direction whence his voice had sounded. The defiance was Tresler’s +signal. He passed the word to his men, and a volley of carbine-fire +rang out at once, and confusion in the ranks of the horsemen followed +immediately.</p> + +<p>Then the battle began in deadly earnest. The sheriff’s men leapt into +their saddles, and advanced both in front and in rear of the trapped +raiders. And the cowpunchers came racing down from the corrals to hurl +themselves into the <i>mêlée</i> whooping and yelling, as only men of their +craft can.</p> + +<p>The fight waxed furious, but the odds were in favor of the ambush. The +clouded sky lent neither side much assistance. Now and again the +peeping moon looked down upon the scene as though half afraid to show +itself, and it was by those fleeting rays that the sheriff’s men +leveled their carbines and poured in their deadly fire. But the +raiders were no mean foe. They fought desperately, and were masters in +the use of their weapons. Their confusion of the first moment passed +instantly, and they rode straight at Tresler’s line of defense with a +determination that threatened to overwhelm it and force a passage. But +the coming of the cowpunchers stemmed the tide and hurled them back on +Fyles’s force in their rear. Several riderless horses escaped in the +<i>mêlée</i>; nor were they only belonging to the raiders. One of the +“deputies” had dropped from his saddle right beside Tresler, and there +was no telling, in the darkness, how many others had met with a +similar fate. Red Mask’s gang had been fairly trapped, and both sides +meant to fight to a finish.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span></p><p>All this time both Tresler and Fyles were looking out for the leader, +the man of all whom they desired to capture. But the darkness, which +had favored the ambuscade, now defeated their object. In the mob of +struggling humanity it was difficult enough to distinguish friend from +foe, let alone to discover any one person. The ranks of the “deputies” +had closed right in and a desperate hand-to-hand struggle was going +on.</p> + +<p>Tresler was caught in the midst of the tide, his crazy mare had +carried him there whether he would or no; but if she had carried him +thus into deadly peril, she was also ready to fight for him. She laid +about her royally, swept on, and reared plunging at every obstruction +to her progress, her master thus escaping many a shot, if it left him +able to do little better than fire at random himself. In this frantic +fashion the maddened creature tore her way through the thick of the +fight, and her rider was borne clear to the further outskirts. Then +she tried to get away with him, but in the nick of time, before her +strong teeth had fixed themselves on the bit, he managed to head her +once again for the struggling mass.</p> + +<p>With furious recklessness she charged forward, and, as bad luck would +have it, her wild career brought about the worst thing possible. She +cannoned violently into the sheriff’s charger, while its rider was in +the act of leveling his revolver at the head of a man wearing a red +mask. The impact was within an ace of bringing both horses and riders +to the ground. The mare was flung on her haunches, while Fyles, +cursing bitterly, clung desperately to his saddle to retain his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span>seat. +But his aim was lost, and his shot narrowly missed his horse’s head; +and, before either he or Tresler had recovered himself, the red masked +man had vanished into the darkness, heading for the perilous ascent of +the valley side.</p> + +<p>Terrified out of her life the Lady Jezebel turned swinging round on +her haunches, and charged down the valley; and as she went Tresler had +the questionable satisfaction of seeing the sheriff detach himself +from the mob and gallop in pursuit of the raider.</p> + +<p>His own blood was up now, and though the mare had got the bit in her +teeth he fought her with a fury equal to her own. He knew she was +mistress of the situation, but he simply would not give in. He would +kill her rather than she should get away with him this time. And so, +as nothing else had any effect on her, he snatched a pistol from its +holster and leant over and pounded the side of her head with the butt +of it in a wild attempt to turn her. At first she gave not the +smallest heed to his blows; such was her madness. But presently she +flinched under them and turned her head away, and her body responded +to the movement. In another moment he had her round, and as she faced +the side of the valley where the raider had disappeared, he slashed +her cruelly with his spurs. In a moment the noise of the battle was +left behind him, and the mare, with cat-like leaps, was breasting the +ascent.</p> + +<p>And Tresler only thought of the man he was in pursuit of. His own neck +or the neck of his mare mattered nothing to him then. Through him, or +through the mare, they had lost Red Mask. He must <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span>rectify the fault. +He had no idea how. His brain was capable of only one +thought—pursuit; and he thanked his stars for the sure-footed beast +under him. Nothing stopped her; she lifted to every obstruction. A +cut-bank had no terrors for her, she simply charged it with her great, +strong hoofs till the gravel and sand poured away under them and left +her a foothold. Bushes were trampled down or plunged through. Blindly +she raced for the top, at an angle that made her rider cling to the +horn of his saddle to keep himself from sliding off over the cantle.</p> + +<p>They passed Fyles struggling laboriously to reach the top. The Lady +Jezebel seemed to shoot past him and leave him standing. And as he +went Tresler called out—</p> + +<p>“How much start has he?”</p> + +<p>“He’s topping it now,” the sheriff replied.</p> + +<p>And the answer fired Tresler’s excitement so that he again rammed both +spurs into the mare’s flanks. The top of the hill loomed up against +the sky. A thick fringe of bush confronted them. Head down, nose +almost touching the ground, the mad animal plunged into it. Her rider +barely had time to lie down in his saddle and cling to her neck. His +thoughts were in a sort of mental whirlpool and he hardly realized +what had happened, when, the next moment, the frenzied demon under him +plunged out on to the open prairie.</p> + +<p>She made no pause or hesitation, but like a shot from a gun swept on +straight as the crow flies, her nose alone guiding her. She still held +the bit in her jaws; her frolic had only just begun. Tresler looked +ahead <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span>and scanned the sky-line, but the darkness obscured all signs +of his quarry.</p> + +<p>He had just made up his mind to trust to chance and the captious mood +of his mare when the moon, crossing a rift in the clouds, gave him a +sort of flashlight view of the horizon. It only lasted a few seconds, +but it lasted long enough for him to detect a horseman heading for the +Mosquito River, away to the right, with a start that looked like +something over a mile. His heart sank at the prospect. But the next +instant hope bounded within him, for the mare swung round of her own +accord and stretched herself for the race.</p> + +<p>He understood. She had recognized the possibility of company; and few +horses, whatever their temper, can resist that.</p> + +<p>He leaned over and patted her shoulder, easing her of his weight like +a jockey.</p> + +<p>“Now, you she-devil,” he murmured affectionately, “behave yourself for +once, and go—go like the fiend you are!”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>THE PURSUIT OF RED MASK</h3> + +<p>A mile start; it would seem an impossible advantage. Even with a far +better horse in pursuit, how many miles must be covered before that +distance could be made up? Could the lost ground be regained in eight +miles? It looked to be out of the question even to Tresler, hopeful of +his mare as he was, and knowing her remarkable turn of speed. Yet such +proved to be the case. Eight miles saw him so close on the heels of +the raider that there was nothing left for the fugitive but to keep +on.</p> + +<p>He felt no surprise that they were traversing the river trail. He even +thought he knew how he could head his man off by a short cut. But this +would not serve his purpose. He wanted to get him red-handed, and to +leave him now would be to give him a chance that he was confident +would be taken advantage of at once. The river trail led to the ranch. +And the only branches anywhere along its route were those running +north and south at the ford.</p> + +<p>Steadily he closed up, foot by foot, yard by yard. Sometimes he saw +his quarry, sometimes he was only guided by the beat of the speeding +hoofs. Now that he was urging her, the Lady Jezebel had relinquished +the bit, not only willing, but bursting to do better than <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span>her best. +No rider could resist such an appeal. And as they went Tresler found +himself talking to her with an affection that would have sounded +ridiculous to any but a horseman. It made him smile to see her ears +laid back, not in the manner of a horse putting forth its last +efforts, but with that vicious air she always had, as though she were +running open-mouthed at Jacob Smith, as he had seen her do in the +corral on his introduction to her.</p> + +<p>When they came to the river ford he was a bare hundred yards in the +wake of his man. Here the road turned off for the ranch, and the trees +met overhead and shut out the light of the moon. It was pitch black, +and he was only guided by the sound of the other horse in front. +Abreast of the ford he became aware that this sound had abruptly died +out, and at the bend of the trail he pulled up and listened acutely. +They stood thus, the mare’s great body heaving under him, until her +rider caught the faint sound of breaking bush somewhere directly ahead +of them.</p> + +<p>Instantly recollection came to his help, and he laughed as he turned +the mare off the trail and plunged into the scrub. It was the spot +where, once before, he had taken, unwillingly, to the bush. There was +no hesitation, no uncertainty. They raced through the tangle, and +threaded their way on to the disused trail they had both traveled +before.</p> + +<p>The fugitive had gained considerably now, and Tresler, for the first +time since the race had begun, asked his mare for more pace. She +simply shook her head, snorted, and swished her tail, as though +protesting <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span>that the blow was unnecessary. She could not do the +impossible, and that he was asking of her. But his forcible request +was the nervous result of his knowledge that the last lap of the race +had been entered upon and the home stretch was not far off. It must be +now or never.</p> + +<p>He soon realized that the remaining distance was all too short. As he +came to the place where the forest abruptly terminated, he saw that +day had broken. The gray light showed him to be still thirty yards or +so behind.</p> + +<p>They had reached the broken lands he remembered so well. Before him +stretched the plateau leading to the convergence of the river and the +cliff. It was the sight of this which gave him an inspiration. He +remembered the branching trail to the bridge, also the wide sweep it +took, as compared with the way he had first come. To leap the river +would gain him fifty yards. But in that light it was a risk—a grave +risk. He hesitated. Annoyed at his own indecision, he determined to +risk everything on one throw. The other horse was distinctly lagging. +He reached down and patted his mare’s neck. And that simple action +restored his confidence; he felt that she was still on top of her +work. The river would have no terrors for her.</p> + +<p>He saw the masked man turn off for the bridge, but he held straight +on. He gave another anxious look at the sky. The dull gray was still +unbroken by any flush of sunrise, but it was lighter, certainly. The +mask of clouds was breaking, though it still contrived to keep +daylight in abeyance. He had no option but to settle <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span>himself in the +saddle for the great effort. Light or no light, he could not turn back +now.</p> + +<p>And for the while he forgot the fugitive. His mind centred on the +river ahead, and the moment when his hand must lend the mare that aid, +without which he could not hope, after her great journey, to win the +far bank. His nerve was steady, and his eyes never more alert. +Everything was distinct enough about him. The bushes flying by were +clearly outlined now, and he fancied he could already see the river’s +line of demarkation. On they raced, he leaning well forward, she with +her ears pricked, attentive to the murmurs of the water already so +near. Unconsciously his knees gripped the leggaderos of his saddle +with all the power he could put into the pressure, and his body was +bent crouching, as though he were about to make the spring himself.</p> + +<p>And the moment came. He spurred and lifted; and the game beast shot +forward like a rocket. A moment, and she landed. But the half lights +must have deceived her. She had jumped further than before, and, +crashing into a boulder with her two fore feet, she turned a complete +somersault, and fell headlong to the ground, hurling her rider yards +out of the saddle into the soft loose sand of the trail beyond.</p> + +<p>Quite unhurt, Tresler was on his feet in an instant. But the mare lay +still where she had fallen. A hopeless feeling of regret swept over +the man as he turned and beheld her. He saw the masked rider dash at +the hillside on his weary horse, not twenty yards from him, but he +gave him no heed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span></p><p>It needed no look into the mare’s glazing eyes to tell him what he had +done. He had killed her. The first really honest act of her life had +led to the unfortunate creature’s own undoing. Her lean ewe neck was +broken, as were both her forelegs.</p> + +<p>The moment he had ascertained the truth he left her, and, looking up +at the hill, saw that it was high time. The rider had vanished, but +his jaded horse was standing half-way up the hillside in the mire of +loose sand. It was either too frightened or too weary to move, and +stood there knee-deep, a picture of dejection.</p> + +<p>The task of mounting to the ledge was no light one, but Tresler faced +it without a second thought. The other had only something less than a +minute’s start of him, and as there was only one other exit to the +place—and that, he remembered, of a very unpromising nature—he had +few fears of the man’s ultimate escape. No, there was no escape for +him; and besides—a smile lit up the hard set of his features at the +thought—daylight had really come. The clouds had at last given way +before the rosy herald of sunrise.</p> + +<p>The last of the ascent was accomplished, and, breathing hard, Tresler +stepped on to the gravel-strewn plateau, gun in hand. He felt glad of +his five-chambered companion. Those rough friends of his on the ranch +were right. There was nothing so compelling, nothing so arbitrary, nor +so reassuring to the possessor and confounding to his enemies, as a +gun well handled.</p> + +<p>The ledge was empty. He looked at the towering cliff, but there was no +sign of his man in that direction. He moved toward the hut, but at the +first step the door <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span>of the dugout was flung wide, and Julian Marbolt, +gun in hand, dashed out.</p> + +<p>He came with a rush, without hesitation, confidently; but as the door +was thrown open, and the flood of daylight shone down upon him, he +fell back with a bitter cry of despair, and Tresler knew that he had +not reckoned on the change from comparative darkness to daylight. He +needed no further proof of what he had come to suspect. The rancher +was only blind in the presence of strong light!</p> + +<p>For a second only he stood cowering back, then, feeling his way, he +darted with miraculous rapidity round the side of the building, and +scrambled toward the dizzy staircase in the rock.</p> + +<p>Tresler challenged him at once, but he paid no heed. He had reached +the foot of the stairway, and was climbing for life and liberty. The +other knew that he ought to have opened fire on him, but the old +desire to trust to his hands and bodily strength overcame his better +judgment, and he ran at him. His impulse was humane but futile, for +the man was ascending with marvelous rapidity, and by the time he had +reached the foot of the ladder, was beyond his reach.</p> + +<p>There was nothing left now but to use his gun or to follow. One look +at the terrific ascent, however, left him no choice.</p> + +<p>“Go on, and I’ll drop you, Julian Marbolt!” he shouted. “I’ve five +chambers loaded in each gun.”</p> + +<p>For response, the blind man increased his exertions. On he went, up, +up, till it made the man below dizzy to watch him. Tresler raised his +gun and fired wide, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span>letting the bullet strike the rock close to the +man’s right hand to convince him of his intentions. He saw the +limestone splinter as the bullet hit it, while the clutching, groping +hand slid higher for a fresh hold; but it had no other effect.</p> + +<p>He was at a loss. If the man reached the top, he knew that somewhere +over the brink lay a road to safety. And he was nearing it; nearing it +foot by foot with his crawling, clinging clutch upon the face of rock. +He shuddered as he watched, fascinated even against himself. Deprived +of sight, the man’s whole body seemed alert with an instinct that +served him in its stead. His movements were like those of some +cuttlefish, reaching out blindly with its long feelers and drawing +itself up by the power of its tentacles.</p> + +<p>He shouted a last warning. “Your last chance!” he cried; and now his +aim was true, and his purpose inflexible.</p> + +<p>The only answer was a hurried movement on the part of the climbing +man.</p> + +<p>Tresler’s finger was on the trigger, while his eyes were fixed on his +mark. But the hammer did not fall; the final compression of the hand +was stayed, while horror leapt into the eyes so keenly looking over +the sight. Something had happened up there on the face of the cliff. +The man had slipped! One foot shot out helplessly, as the frantic +climber struggled for those last few steps before the shot came. He +wildly sought to recover himself, but the fatal jolt carried the +weight of his body with it, and wrenched the other foot from its hold. +For the fraction of a second the man below <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span>became aware of the +clinging hands, as they desperately held to the rock, and then he +dropped his gun and clapped his hands over his ears as a piercing +shriek rang out. He could not witness any more. He only heard, in +spite of his stopped ears, the lumping of a soft body falling; he saw, +though his eyes were closed almost on the instant, a huddled figure +pitch dully upon the edge of the plateau and disappear below. It all +passed in a flash.</p> + +<p>Then silence reigned. And when he opened his eyes there was no +horrible sight, nothing seemed to have been disturbed. It had gone; no +trace was left, not a tatter of cloth, not a spot of blood, nothing.</p> + +<p>He knew. His imaginary vision of the old-time trapper had been enacted +before his very eyes. All that remained of Julian Marbolt was +lying—down there.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>Fyles and Tresler were standing in the valley below. They were gazing +on the mangled remains of the rancher. Fyles had removed the piece of +red blanket from the dead man’s face, and held it up for inspection.</p> + +<p>“Um!” he grunted. “The game’s played out.”</p> + +<p>“There’s more of that up there in the hut,” said Tresler.</p> + +<p>“Breed blanket,” commented Fyles, folding it up and carefully +bestowing it in his pocket. Then he turned and gazed down the yawning +valley. It was a wonderful place, a mighty rift extending for miles +into the heart of the mountains. “A nice game, too,” he went on +presently. “Ever seen this place before?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span></p><p>“Once,” Tresler replied. Then he told the officer of his runaway ride.</p> + +<p>Fyles listened with interest. At the conclusion he said, “Pity you +didn’t tell me of this before. However, you missed the chief interest. +Look away down there in the shelter of the cliff. See—about a mile +down. Corrals enough to shepherd ten thousand head. And they are +cunningly disposed.”</p> + +<p>Tresler now became aware of a scattered array of corrals, stretching +away out into the distance, but so arranged at the foot of the +towering walls of the valley that they needed looking for closely.</p> + +<p>Then he looked up at the ledge which had been the scene of the +disaster, and the ladder of hewn steps above, and he pointed at them.</p> + +<p>“I wonder what’s on the other side?”</p> + +<p>“That’s an easy one,” replied his companion promptly. “Half-breeds.”</p> + +<p>“A settlement?”</p> + +<p>“That’s about it. You remember the Breeds cleared away from their old +settlement lately. We’ve never found them. Once they take to the +hills, it’s like a needle in a haystack. Maybe friend Anton is in +hiding there.”</p> + +<p>“I doubt it. ‘Tough’ McCulloch didn’t belong to them, as I told you. +He comes from over the border. No; he’s getting away as fast as his +horse can carry him. And Arizona isn’t far off his trail, if I’m any +judge.”</p> + +<p>Fyles’s great round face was turned contemplatively on his companion.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span></p><p>“Well, that’s for the future, anyhow,” he observed, and moved to a +bush some yards away. “Let’s take it easy. Money, one of my deputies, +has gone in for a wagon. I don’t expect him for a couple of hours or +so. We must keep it company,” he added, nodding his head in the +direction of the dead man.</p> + +<p>They sat down and silently lit their pipes. Fyles was the first to +speak.</p> + +<p>“Guess I’ve got to thank you,” he said, as though that sort of thing +was quite out of his province.</p> + +<p>Tresler shook his head. “Not me,” he said. “Thank my poor mare.” Then +he added, with a bitter laugh, “Why, but for the accident of his fall, +I’m not sure he wouldn’t have escaped. I’m pretty weak-kneed when it +comes to dropping a man in cold blood.”</p> + +<p>The other shook his head.</p> + +<p>“No; he wouldn’t have escaped. You underestimate yourself. But even if +you had missed I had him covered with my carbine. I was watching the +whole thing down here. You see, Money and I came on behind. I don’t +suppose we were more than a few minutes after you. That mare you were +riding was a dandy. I see she’s done.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Tresler said sorrowfully. “And I’m not ashamed to say it’s hit +me hard. She did us a good turn.”</p> + +<p>“And she owed it to us.”</p> + +<p>“You mean when she upset everything during the fight?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Well, she’s more than made amends. In spite of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span>her temper, that mare +of mine was the finest thing on the ranch.”</p> + +<p>“Yours?” Fyles raised his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>“Well—Marbolt’s.”</p> + +<p>But the officer shook his head. “Nor Marbolt’s. She belonged to me. +Three years ago I turned her out to graze at Whitewater with a bunch +of others, as an incorrigible rogue and vagabond. The whole lot were +stolen and one of the guard shot. Her name was ‘Strike ’em.’”</p> + +<p>“Strike ’em?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Ever have her come at you with both front feet, and her mouth +open?”</p> + +<p>Tresler nodded.</p> + +<p>“That’s it. ‘Strike ’em.’ Fine mare—half blood.”</p> + +<p>“But Marbolt told Jake he bought her from a half-breed outfit.”</p> + +<p>“Dare say he did.”</p> + +<p>Fyles relit his pipe for about the twentieth time, which caused +Tresler to hand him his pouch.</p> + +<p>“Try tobacco,” he said, with a smile.</p> + +<p>The sheriff accepted the invitation with unruffled composure. The +gentle sarcasm passed quite unheeded. Probably the man was too intent +on the business of the moment, for he went on as though no +interruption had occurred.</p> + +<p>“After seeing you on that mare I found the ranch interesting. But the +man’s blindness fooled me right along. I had no trouble in +ascertaining that Jake had nothing to do with things. Also I was +assured that none of the ‘hands’ were playing the game. Anton <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span>was the +man for me. But soon I discovered that he was not the actual leader. +So far, good. There was only Marbolt left; but he was blind. Last +night, when you came for me, and told me what had happened at the +ranch, and about the lighted lamp, I tumbled. But even so I still +failed to understand all. The man was blind in daylight, and could see +in darkness or half-light. Now, what the deuce sort of blind disease +is that? And he seems to have kept the secret, acting the blind man at +all times. It was clever—devilish clever.”</p> + +<p>Tresler nodded. “Yes; he fooled us all, even his daughter.”</p> + +<p>The other shot a quick glance from out of the corners of his eyes.</p> + +<p>“I suppose so,” he observed, and waited.</p> + +<p>They smoked in silence.</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do next?” asked Tresler, as the other showed no +disposition to speak.</p> + +<p>The man shrugged. “Take possession of the ranch. Just keep the hands +to run it. The lady had better go into Forks if she has any friends +there. You might see to that. I understand that you are—gossip, you +know.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“There’ll be inquiries and formalities. The property I don’t know +about. That will be settled by the government.”</p> + +<p>Tresler became thoughtful. Suddenly he turned to his companion.</p> + +<p>“Sheriff,” he said earnestly, “I hope you’ll spare <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span>Miss Marbolt all +you can. She has lived a terribly unhappy life with him. I can assure +you she has known nothing of this—nothing of the strange blindness. I +would swear it with my last breath.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t doubt you, my boy,” the other said heartily. “We owe you too +much to doubt you. She shall not be bothered more than can be helped. +But she had some knowledge of that blindness, or she would not have +acted as she did with that lamp. I tell you candidly she will have to +make a statement.”</p> + +<p>“Have no doubt; she will explain.”</p> + +<p>“Sure—ah! I think I hear the wheels of the wagon.” Fyles looked +round. Then he settled himself down again. “Jake,” he went on, “was +smartest of us all. I can’t believe he was ever told of his patron’s +curious blindness. He must have discovered it. He was playing a big +game. And all for a woman! Well, well.”</p> + +<p>“No doubt he thought she was worth it,” said Tresler, with some +asperity.</p> + +<p>The officer smiled at the tone. “No doubt, no doubt. Still, he wasn’t +young. He fooled you when he concurred with your suspicions of +Anton—that is, he knew you were off the true scent, and meant keeping +you off it. I can understand, too, why you were sent to Willow Bluff. +You knew too much, you were too inquiring. Besides, from your own +showing to Jake—which he carried on to the blind man for his own +ends—you wanted too much. You had to be got rid of, as others have +been got rid of before. Yes, it was all very clever. And he never +spared his own <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span>stock. Robbed himself by transferring a bunch of +steers to these corrals, and, later on, I suppose, letting them drift +back to his own pastures. I only wonder why, with a ranch like his, he +ran the risk.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it was old-time associations. He was a slave-trader once, and +no doubt he stocked his ranch originally by raiding the Indians’ +cattle. Then, when white people came around, and the Indians +disappeared, he continued his depredations on less open lines.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! slave-trader, was he? Who said?”</p> + +<p>“Miss Marbolt innocently told me he once traded in the Indies in +‘black ivory.’ She did not understand.”</p> + +<p>“Just so—ah, here is the wagon.”</p> + +<p>Fyles rose leisurely to his feet. And Money drove up.</p> + +<p>“The best of news, sheriff,” the latter cried at once. “Captured the +lot. Some of the boys are badly damaged, but we’ve got ’em all.”</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ll get back with this,” the officer replied quietly.</p> + +<p>The dead man was lifted into the wagon, and, in a few minutes, the +little party was on its way back to the ranch.</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>A RETURN TO THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES</h3> + +<p>The affairs of the ranch were taken in hand by Fyles. Everything was +temporarily under his control, and an admirable administrator he +proved. Nor could Tresler help thinking how much better he seemed +suited by such pastoral surroundings than by the atmosphere of his +proper calling. But this appointment only lasted a week. Then the +authorities drafted a man to relieve him for the more urgent business +of the investigation into the death of the rancher and his foreman, +and the trial of the half-breed raiders captured at Widow Dangley’s.</p> + +<p>Diane, acting on Tresler’s advice, had taken up her abode with Mrs. +Doc. Osler in Forks, which good, comfortable, kind, gossipy old woman +insisted on treating her as a bereaved and ailing child, who must be +comforted and ministered to, and incidentally dosed with tonics. As a +matter of fact, Diane, though greatly shocked at the manner and +conditions of her father’s death, and the discovery that he was so +terrible an outlaw, was suffering in no sense the bereavement of the +death of a parent. She was heartily glad to get away from her old +home, that had held so much unhappiness and misery for her. Later on, +when Tresler sent her word that it was imperative for him to go into +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span>Whitewater with Fyles, that he had been summoned there as a witness, +she was still more glad that she had left it. Thanks to the influence +and consideration of Fyles, she had been spared the ordeal of the +trial in Whitewater. She had given her sworn testimony at the +preliminary inquiry on the ranch, and this had been put in as evidence +at the higher court.</p> + +<p>And so it was nearly a month before Tresler was free to return to +Forks. And during that time he had been kept very busy. What with the +ranch affairs, and matters of his own concerns, he had no time for +anything but brief and infrequent little notes of loving encouragement +to the waiting girl. But these messages tended otherwise than might +have been expected. The sadness that had so long been almost second +nature to the girl steadily deepened, and Mrs. Osler, ever kind and +watchful of her charge, noticed the depression settling on her, and +with motherly solicitude—she had no children of her own—insisted on +the only remedy she understood—physic. And the girl submitted to the +kindly treatment, knowing well enough that there was no physic to help +her complaint. She knew that, in spite of his tender messages and +assurances of affection, Tresler could never be anything more in her +life than he was at present. Even in death her father had carried out +his threat. She could never marry. It would be a cruel outrage on any +man. She told herself that no self-respecting man would ever marry a +girl with such a past, such parentage.</p> + +<p>And so she waited for her lover’s return to tell him. Once she thought +of writing it, but she knew Jack too <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span>well. He would only come down to +Forks post haste, and that might upset his plans; and she had no +desire to cause him further trouble. She would tell him her decision +when he had leisure to come to her. Then she would wait for the +government orders about the ranch, and, if she were allowed to keep +it, she would sell the land as soon as possible and leave the country +forever. She felt that this course was the right one to pursue; but it +was very, very hard, and no measure of tonics could dispel the +deepening shadows which the cruelty of her lot had brought to her +young face.</p> + +<p>It was wonderful the kindness and sympathy extended to her in that +rough settlement. There was not a man or woman, especially the men, +who did not do all in his or her power to make her forget her +troubles. No one ever alluded to Mosquito Bend in her presence, and, +instead, assumed a rough, cheerful jocularity, which sat as awkwardly +on the majority as it well could. For most of them were illiterate, +hard-living folk, rendered desperately serious in the struggle for +existence.</p> + +<p>And back to this place Tresler came one day. He was a very different +man now from what he had been on his first visit. He looked about him +as he crossed the market-place. Quickly locating Doc. Osler’s little +house, he smiled to himself as he thought of the girl waiting for him +there. But he kept to his course and rode straight on to Carney’s +saloon. Here, as before, he dismounted. But he needed no help or +guide. He straightway hooked his horse’s reins over the tie-post and +walked into the bar.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span></p><p>The first man to greet him was his old acquaintance Slum Ranks. The +little man looked up at him in a speculative manner, slanting his eyes +at him in a way he remembered so well. There was no change in the +rascal’s appearance. In fact, he was wearing the same clothes Tresler +had first seen him in. They were no cleaner and no dirtier. The man +seemed to have utterly stagnated since their first meeting, just as +everything else in the saloon seemed to have stagnated. There were the +same men there—one or two more besides—the same reeking atmosphere, +the same dingy hue over the whole interior. Nothing seemed changed.</p> + +<p>Slum’s greeting was characteristic. “Wal, blind-hulks has passed—eh? +I figgered you was comin’ out on top. Guess the government’ll treat +you han’some.”</p> + +<p>The butcher guffawed from his place at the bar. Tresler saw that he +was still standing with his back to it; his hands were still gripping +the moulded edge, as though he had never changed his position since +the first time he had seen him. Shaky, the carpenter, looked up from +the little side table at which he was playing “solitaire” with a +greasy pack of cards; his face still wore the puzzled look with which +he had been contemplating the maze of spots and pictures a moment +before. Those others who were new to him turned on him curiously as +they heard Slum’s greeting, and Carney paused in the act of wiping a +glass, an occupation which never failed him, however bad trade might +be.</p> + +<p>Tresler felt that something was due to those who <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span>could display so +much interest in his return, so he walked to the bar and called for +drinks. Then he turned to Slum.</p> + +<p>“Well,” he said, “I’m going to take up my abode here for a week or +two.”</p> + +<p>“I’m real glad,” said Ranks, his little eyes lighting up at the +prospect. He remembered how profitable this man had proved before. +“The missis’ll be glad, too,” he added. “I ’lows she’s a far-seein’ +wummin. We kep a best room fer such folk as you, now. A bran’ noo iron +bed, wi’ green an’ red stripes, an’ a washbowl goin’ with it. Say, +it’s a real dandy layout, an’ on’y three dollars a week wi’out board. +Guess I’ll git right over an’ tell her to fix—eh?”</p> + +<p>Tresler protested and laid a detaining hand on his arm. “Don’t bother. +Carney, here, is going to fix me up; aren’t you, Carney?”</p> + +<p>“That’s how,” replied the saloon-keeper, with a triumphant grin at the +plausible Slum.</p> + +<p>“Wal, now. You plumb rattle me. To think o’ your goin’ over from a pal +like that,” said Slum, protestingly, while the butcher guffawed and +stretched his arms further along the bar.</p> + +<p>“Guess he’s had some,” observed the carpenter, shuffling his cards +anew. “I ’lows that bed has bugs, an’ the wash-bowl’s mostly used +dippin’ out swill,” he finished up scornfully.</p> + +<p>Ranks eyed the sad-faced man with an unfriendly look. “Guess I never +knew you but what you was insultin’, Shaky,” he observed, in a tone of +pity. “Some folks is like that. Guess you git figgerin’ them <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span>cards +too close. You never was bustin’ wi’ brains. Say, Carney,” turning +back to the bar complainingly, “wher’s them durned brandy ‘cocks’ Mr. +Tresler ordered a whiles back? You’re gettin’ most like a fun’ral on +an up-hill trail. Slow—eh? Guess if we’re to be pizened I sez do it +quick.”</p> + +<p>“Comin’ along, Slum,” replied Carney, winking knowingly to let Tresler +understand that the man’s impatience was only a covering for his +discomfiture at Shaky’s hands. “I’ve done my best to pizen you this +ten year. Guess Shaky’s still pinin’ fer the job o’ nailin’ a few +planks around you. Here you are. More comin’.”</p> + +<p>“Who’s needin’ me?” asked Shaky, looking up from his cards. “Slum +Ranks?” he questioned, pausing. “Guess I’ve got a plank or two fit fer +him. Red pine. Burns better.”</p> + +<p>He lit his pipe with great display and sucked at it noisily. Slum +lowered his cocktail and turned a disgusted look on him.</p> + +<p>“Say, go easy wi’ that lucifer. Don’t breathe on it, or ther’ won’t be +no need fer red pine fer you.”</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” cried Carney, jocosely, “the present—kep to +the present. Because Slum, here, runs a—well, a boardin’ +establishment, ther’ ain’t no need to discuss his future so coarsely.”</p> + +<p>“Not so much slack, Carney,” said Slum, a little angrily. “Guess my +boardin’ emporium’s rilin’ you some. You’re feelin’ a hur’cane; that’s +wot you’re feelin’, I guess. Makes you sick to see folks gittin’ value +fer their dollars, don’t it?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span></p><p>“Good fer you, good fer you,” cried the butcher, and subsided with a +loud guffaw.</p> + +<p>The unusual burst of speech from this man caused general surprise. The +entire company paused to stare at the shining, grinning face.</p> + +<p>“Sail in, Slum,” said a lean man Tresler had heard addressed as +“Sawny” Martin. “I allus sez as you’ve got a dead eye fer the +tack-head ev’ry time. But go easy, or the boss’ll bar you on the +slate.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t owe him nuthin’,” growled Slum.</p> + +<p>“Which ain’t or’nary in this company,” observed the smiling Carney; he +loved to get Slum angry. “Say, Shaky,” he went on, “how do Slum fix +you in his—hotel? You don’t seem bustin’ wi’ vittals.”</p> + +<p>“Might do wuss,” responded the carpenter, sorrowfully. “But, y’ see, I +stan’ in wi’ Doc. Osler, an’ he physics me reg’lar.”</p> + +<p>Everybody laughed with the butcher this time.</p> + +<p>“Say, you gorl-durned ‘fun’ral boards,’ you’re gittin’ kind o’ fresh, +but I’d bet a greenback to a last year’s corn-shuck you don’t quit +ther’ an’ come grazin’ around Carney’s pastures, long as my missis +does the cookin’.”</p> + +<p>“I ’lows your missis ken cook,” said Shaky, with enthusiasm. “The +feller as sez she can’t lies. But wi’ her, my respec’ fer your hog-pen +ends. I guess this argyment is closed fer va-cation. Who’s fer +‘draw’?”</p> + +<p>Slum turned back to the bar. “Here, Carney,” he said, planking out a +ten-dollar bill, “hand over chips to that. We’re losin’ blessed hours +gassin’. I’m goin’ fer a hand at ‘draw.’ An’ say, give us a new deck +o’ cards. Guess them o’ Shaky’s needs curry-combin’ <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span>some. Mr. +Tresler,” he went on, turning to his old boarder, “mebbe I owe you +some. Have you a notion?”</p> + +<p>“No thanks, Slum,” replied Tresler, decidedly. “I’m getting an old +hand now.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!”</p> + +<p>And the little man moved off with a thoughtful smile on his rutted, +mahogany features.</p> + +<p>Tresler watched these men take their seats for the game. Their recent +bickering was wholly forgotten in the ruling passion for “draw.” And +what a game it was! Each man, ignorant, uncultured in all else, was a +past master at poker—an artist. The baser instincts of the game +appealed to the uppermost sides of their natures. They were there to +best each other by any manner of trickery. Each man understood that +his neighbor was doing all he knew, nor did he resent it. Only would +he resent it should the delinquent be found out. Then there would be +real trouble. But they were all such old-time sinners. They had been +doing that sort of thing for years, and would continue to do it for +years more. It was the method of their lives, and Tresler had no +opinion on the right or wrong of it. He had no right to judge them, +and, besides, he had every sympathy for them as struggling units in +Life’s great battle.</p> + +<p>But presently he left the table, for Fyles came in, and he had been +waiting for him. But the sheriff came by himself, and Tresler asked +him the reason.</p> + +<p>“Well, you see, Nelson is outside, Tresler,” the burly man said, with +something like a smile. “He wouldn’t come in. Shall we go out to him?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span></p><p>The other assented, and they passed out. Joe was sitting on his +buckskin pony, gazing at the saloon with an infinite longing in his +old eyes.</p> + +<p>“Why are you sitting there?” Tresler asked at once. Then he regretted +his question.</p> + +<p>“Wal,” Joe drawled, without the least hesitation, “I’m figgerin’ you +oughter know by this time. Ther’s things born to live on liquid, an’ +they’ve mostly growed tails. Guess I ain’t growed that—yet. Mebbe +I’ll git down at Doc. Osler’s. An’ I’ll git on agin right ther’,” he +added, as an afterthought.</p> + +<p>Joe smiled as much as his twisted face would permit, but Tresler was +annoyed with himself for having forced such a confession from him.</p> + +<p>“Well, I’m sorry I suggested it, Joe,” he said quickly; “as you say, I +ought to have known better. Never mind, I want you to do me a favor.”</p> + +<p>“Name it, an’ I’ll do it if I bust.”</p> + +<p>The little man brightened at the thought of this man asking a favor of +him.</p> + +<p>Tresler didn’t respond at once. He didn’t want to put the matter too +bluntly. He didn’t want to let Joe feel that he regarded him as a +subordinate.</p> + +<p>“Well, you see, I’m looking for some one of good experience to give me +some friendly help. You see, I’ve bought a nice place, and—well, in +fact, I’m setting up ranching on my own, and I want you to come and +help me with it. That’s all.”</p> + +<p>Joe looked out over the market-place, he looked away at the distant +hills, his eyes turned on Doc. Osler’s house; he cleared his throat +and screwed his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span>face into the most weird shape. His eyes sought the +door of the saloon and finally came back to Tresler. He swallowed two +or three times, then suddenly thrust out his hand as though he were +going to strike his benefactor.</p> + +<p>“Shake,” he muttered hoarsely.</p> + +<p>And Tresler gripped the proffered hand. “And perhaps you’ll have that +flower-garden, Joe,” he said, “without the weeds.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Tresler, sir, shake agin.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind the ‘mister’ or the ‘sir,’” said Tresler. “We are old +friends. Now, Fyles,” he went on, turning to the officer, who had been +looking on as an interested spectator, “have you any news for Miss +Marbolt?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, the decision’s made. I’ve got the document here in my pocket.”</p> + +<p>“Good. But don’t tell it me. Give me an hour’s start of you. I’m going +to see the lady myself. And, Joe,” Tresler looked up into the old +man’s beaming face. “Will you come with the sheriff when he +interviews—er—our client?”</p> + +<p>“All right, Mis——”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Tresler, si——”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Tresler,” said the old man, in a strangely husky voice.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>Diane was confronting her lover for the last interview. Mrs. Osler had +discreetly left them, and now <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span>they were sitting in the diminutive +parlor, the man, at the girl’s expressed wish, sitting as far from her +as the size of the room would permit. All his cheeriness had deserted +him and a decided frown marred the open frankness of his face.</p> + +<p>Diane, herself, looked a little older than when we saw her last at the +ranch. The dark shadows round her pretty eyes were darker, and her +face looked thinner and paler, while her eyes shone with a feverish +brightness.</p> + +<p>“You overruled my decision once, Jack,” she was saying in a low tone +that she had difficulty in keeping steady, “but this time it must not +be.”</p> + +<p>“Well, look here, Danny, I can give you just an hour in which to ease +your mind, but I tell you candidly, after that you’ll have to say +‘yes,’ in spite of all your objections. So fire away. Here’s the +watch. I’m going to time you.”</p> + +<p>Tresler spoke lightly and finished up with a laugh. But he didn’t feel +like laughter. This objection came as a shock to him. He had pictured +such a different meeting.</p> + +<p>Diane shook her head. “I can say all I have to say in less time than +that, Jack. Promise me that you will not misunderstand me. You know my +heart, dear. It is all yours, but, but—Jack, I did not tell all I +knew at the inquest.”</p> + +<p>She paused, but Tresler made no offer to help her out. “I knew father +could see at night. He was what Mr. Osler calls a—Nyc—Nyctalops. +That’s it. It’s some strange disease and not real blindness at all, as +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span>far as I can make out. He simply couldn’t see in daylight because +there was something about his eyes which let in so much light, that +all sense of vision was paralyzed, and at such time he suffered +intense pain. But when evening came, in the moonlight, or late +twilight; in fact at any time when there was no glare of light, just a +soft radiance, he could not only see but was possessed of peculiarly +acute vision. How he kept his secret for so many years I don’t know. I +understand why he did, but, even now, I cannot understand what drove +him to commit the dreadful deeds he did, so wealthy and all as he +was.”</p> + +<p>Tresler thought he could guess pretty closely. But he waited for her +to go on.</p> + +<p>“Jack, I discovered that he could see at night when you were ill, just +before you recovered consciousness,” she went on, in a solemn, +awestruck tone.</p> + +<p>“Ah!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, while you were lying there insensible you narrowly escaped being +murdered.”</p> + +<p>Again she paused, and shuddered visibly.</p> + +<p>“I was afraid of something. His conduct when you were brought in +warned me. He seemed to resent your existence; he certainly resented +your being in the house, but most of all my attendance on you. I was +very watchful, but the strain was too much, and, one night, feeling +that the danger of sleep for me was very real, I barricaded the +stairs. I did my utmost to keep awake, but foolishly sat down on my +own bed and fell asleep. Then I awoke with a start; I can’t say what +woke me. Anyway, realizing I had slept, I became <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span>alarmed for you. I +picked up the light and went out into the hall, where I found my +barricade removed——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and your father at my bedside, with his hands at my throat.”</p> + +<p>“Loosening the bandage.”</p> + +<p>“To?”</p> + +<p>“To open the wound and let you bleed to death.”</p> + +<p>“I see. Yes, I remember. I dreamt the whole scene, except the bandage +business. But you——”</p> + +<p>“I had the lighted lamp, and the moment its light flashed on him he +was as—as blind as a bat. His hands moved about your bandage fumbling +and uncertain. Yes, he was blind enough then. I believe he would have +attacked me, only I threatened him with the lamp, and with calling for +help.”</p> + +<p>“Brave little woman—yes, I remember your words. They were in my +dream. And that’s how you knew what to do later on when Jake and +he——”</p> + +<p>The girl nodded.</p> + +<p>“So Fyles was right,” Tresler went on musingly. “You did know.”</p> + +<p>“Was I wrong, Jack, in not telling them at the inquest? You see he is +dead, and——”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, you were right. It would have done no manner of +good. You might have told me, though.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I didn’t know what to do,” the girl said, a little helplessly. +“You see I never thought of cattle-stealing. It never entered my head +that he was, or could be, Red Mask. I only looked upon it as a +villainous attempt on your life, which would not be likely <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span>to occur +again, and which it would serve no purpose to tell you of. Besides, +the horror——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I see. Perhaps you were right. It would have put us on the right +track though, as, later on, the fight with Jake and your action with +regard to it did. Never mind; that’s over. Julian Marbolt was an utter +villain from the start. You may as well know that his trading in +‘black ivory’ was another name for slave-trading. His blindness had +nothing to do with driving him to crime, nor had your mother’s doings. +He was a rogue before. His blindness only enabled him to play a deeper +game, which was a matter likely to appeal to his nature. However, +nothing can be altered by discussing him. I have bought a ranch +adjoining Mosquito Bend, and secured Joe’s assistance as foreman. I +have given out contracts for rebuilding the house; also, I’ve sent +orders east for furnishings. I am going to buy my stock at the fall +round-up. All I want now is for you to say when you will marry me, +sweetheart.”</p> + +<p>“But, Jack, you don’t seem to understand. I can’t marry you. Father +was a—a murderer.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care what he was, Danny. It doesn’t make the least difference +to me. I’m not marrying your father.”</p> + +<p>Diane was distressed. The lightness of his treatment of the subject +bothered her. But she was in deadly earnest.</p> + +<p>“But, Jack, think of the disgrace! Your people! All the folk about +here!”</p> + +<p>“Now don’t let us be silly, Danny,” Tresler said, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span>coming over to the +girl’s side and taking possession of her forcibly. In spite of protest +his arm slipped round her waist, and he drew her to him and kissed her +tenderly. “My people are not marrying you. Nor are the folk—who, by +the way, can’t, and have no desire to throw stones—doing so either. +Now, you saved my life twice; once through your gentle nursing, once +through your bravery. And I tell you no one has the right to save life +and then proceed to do all in their power to make that life a burden +to the miserable wretch on whom they’ve lavished such care. That would +be a vile and unwomanly action, and quite foreign to your gentle +heart. Sweetheart,” he went on, kissing her again, “you must complete +the good work. I am anything but well yet. In fact I am so weak that +any shock might cause a relapse. In short, there is only one thing, as +far as I can see, to save me from a horrid death—consumption or +colic, or some fell disease—and that’s marriage. I know you must be +bored to death by——No,” as the girl tried to stop him, “don’t +interrupt, you must know all the fearsome truth—a sort of chronic +invalid, but if you don’t marry me, well, I’ll get Joe to bury me +somewhere at the crossroads. Look at all the money I’ve spent in +getting our home together. Think of it, Danny; our home! And old Joe +to help us. And——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, stop, stop, or you’ll make me——”</p> + +<p>“Marry me. Just exactly what I intend, darling. Now, seriously, let’s +forget the old past; Jake, your father, Anton, all of them—except +Arizona.”</p> + +<p>Diane nestled closer to him in spite of her protests. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span>There was +something so strong, reliant, masterful about her Jack that made him +irresistible to her. She knew she was wrong in allowing herself to +think like this at such a moment, but, after all, she was a weak, +loving woman, fighting in what she conceived to be the cause of right. +If she found that her heart, so long starved of affection, overcame +her sense of duty, was there much blame? Tresler felt the gentle +clinging movement, and pressed her for her answer at once.</p> + +<p>“Time’s nearly up, dearest. See through that window, Fyles and Joe are +coming over to you. Is it marry, or am I to go to the Arctic regions +fishing for polar bears without an overcoat? I don’t care which it +is—I mean—no. Yes, quick! They’re on the verandah.”</p> + +<p>The girl nodded. “Yes,” she said, so low that his face came in contact +with hers in his effort to hear, and stayed there until the burly +sheriff knocked at the door.</p> + +<p>He entered, followed by Joe. Tresler and Diane were standing side by +side. He was still holding her hand.</p> + +<p>“Fyles,” Tresler said at once, beaming upon both men, “let me present +you to the future Mrs. John Tresler. Joe,” he added, turning on the +little man who was twisting his slouch hat up unmercifully in his +nervous hand, and grinning ferociously, “are the corrals prepared, and +have you got my branding-irons ready? You see I’ve rounded her up.”</p> + +<p>The little man grinned worse than ever, and appeared to be in imminent +peril of extending his torn mouth into the region of his ear. Diane +listened to the horrible suggestion without misgiving, merely +remarking in true wifely fashion—</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span></p><p>“Don’t be absurd, Jack!”</p> + +<p>At which Fyles smiled with appreciation. Then he coughed to bring them +to seriousness, and produced an official envelope from his tunic +pocket.</p> + +<p>“I’ve just brought you the verdict on your property, Miss Marbolt,” he +said deliberately. “Shall I read it to you, or would you——?”</p> + +<p>“Never mind the reading,” said Diane impulsively. “Tell me the +contents.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I confess it’s better so. The legal terms are confusing,” said +the officer emphatically. “You can read them later. I don’t guess the +government could have acted better by you than they’ve done. The +property,”—he was careful to avoid the rancher’s name—“the property +is to remain yours, with this proviso. An inquiry has been arranged +for, into all claims for property lost during the last ten years in +the district. And all approved claims will have to be settled out of +the estate. Five years is the time allowed for all such claims to be +put forward. After that everything reverts to you.”</p> + +<p>Diane turned to her lover the moment the officer had finished +speaking.</p> + +<p>“And, Jack, when that time comes we’ll sell it all and give the money +to charity, and just live on in our own little home.”</p> + +<p>“Done!” exclaimed Tresler. And seizing her in his arms he picked her +up and gave her a resounding kiss. The action caused the sheriff to +cough loudly, while Joe flung his hat fiercely to the ground, and in a +voice of wildest excitement, shouted—</p> + +<p>“Gee, but I want to holler!”</p> + +<hr class="large" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3>ARIZONA</h3> + +<p>When winter comes in Canada it shuts down with no uncertainty. The +snow settles and remains. The sun shines, but without warmth. The +still air bites through any clothing but furs, moccasins, or +felt-lined overshoes. The farmers hug the shelter of their houses, and +only that work which is known as “doing the chores” receives attention +when once winter sets its seal upon the land. Little traffic passes +over the drifted trails now; a horseman upon a social visit bent, a +bobsleigh loaded with cord-wood for the wood-stoves at home, a cutter, +drawn by a rattling team of young bronchos, as rancher and wife seek +the alluring stores of some distant city to make their household +purchases, even an occasional “jumper,” one of those low-built, +red-painted, one-horsed sleighs, which resemble nothing so much as a +packing-case with a pair of shafts attached. But these are all; for +work has practically ceased in the agricultural regions, and a period +of hibernation has begun, when, like the dormouse, rancher and farmer +alike pass their slack time in repose from the arduous labors of the +open season.</p> + +<p>Even the most brilliant sunlight cannot cheer the mournful outlook to +any great extent. Out on the Edmonton <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span>trail, hundreds of miles to the +north of Forks, at the crossroads where the Battule trail branches to +the east, the cheerless prospect is intensified by the skeleton arms +of a snow-crowned bluff. The shelter of trees is no longer a shelter +against the wind, which now comes shrieking through the leafless +branches and drives out any benighted creature foolish enough to seek +its protection against the winter storm. But in winter the crossroads +are usually deserted.</p> + +<p>Contrary to custom, however, it is evident that a horseman has +recently visited the bluff. For there are hoof-prints on one of the +crossing trails; on the trail which comes from somewhere in the south. +The marks are sharp indentations and look fresh, but they terminate as +the crossing is reached. Here they have turned off into the bush and +are lost to view. The matter is somewhat incomprehensible.</p> + +<p>But there is something still more incomprehensible about the desolate +place. Just beyond where the hoof-prints turn off a lightning-stricken +pine tree stands alone, bare and blackened by the fiery ordeal through +which it has passed, and, resting in the fork of one of its shriveled +branches, about the height of a horseman’s head, is a board—a black +board, black as is the tree-trunk which supports it.</p> + +<p>As we draw nearer to ascertain the object of so strange a phenomenon +on a prairie trail we learn that some one has inscribed a message to +those who may arrive at the crossing. A message of strange meaning and +obscure. The characters are laboriously executed in chalk, and have +been emphasized with repeated markings and an <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span>attempt at block +capitals. Also there is a hand sketched roughly upon the board, with +an outstretched finger pointing vaguely somewhere in the direction of +the trail which leads to Battule.</p> + +<p class="center">“<i>This is the One-Way Trail</i>”</p> + +<p>We read this and glance at the pointing finger which is so shaky of +outline, and our first inclination is to laugh. But somehow before the +laugh has well matured it dies away, leaving behind it a look of +wonder not unmixed with awe. For there is something sinister in the +message, which, though we do not understand it, still has power to +move us. If we are prairie folk we shall have no inclination to laugh +at all. Rather shall we frown and edge away from the ominous black +board; and it is more than probable we shall avoid the trail +indicated, and prefer to make a detour if our destination should +chance to be Battule.</p> + +<p>Why is that board there? Who has set it up? And “the one-way trail” is +the trail over which there is no returning. The message is no jest.</p> + +<p>The coldly gleaming sun has set, and at last a horse and rider enter +the bluff. They turn off into the bush and are seen no more. The long +night passes. Dawn comes again, and, as the daylight broadens, the +horseman reappears and rides off down the trail. At evening he returns +again; disappears into the bush again; and, with daylight, rides off +again. Day after day this curious coming and going continues without +any apparent object, unless it be that the man has no place but the +skeleton bush in which to rest. And with each <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span>coming and going the +man rides slower, he lounges wearily in his saddle, and before the end +of a week looks a mere spectre of the man who first rode into the +bluff. Starvation is in the emaciated features, the brilliant feverish +eyes. His horse, too, appears little better.</p> + +<p>At length one evening he enters the bush, and the following dawn fails +to witness his departure. All that day there is the faint sound of a +horse moving about amongst the trees with that limping gait which +denotes the application of a knee-halter. But the man makes no sound.</p> + +<p>As night comes on a solitary figure may be seen seated on a horse at a +point which is sheltered from the trail by a screen of bushes. The man +sits still, silent, but drooping. His tall gaunt frame is bent almost +double over the horn of his saddle in his weakness. The horse’s head +is hanging heavy with sleep, but the man’s great, wild eyes are wide +open and alight with burning eagerness. The horse sleeps and +frequently has to be awakened by its rider as it stumbles beneath its +burden; but the man is as wakeful as the night-owl seeking its prey, +and the grim set of his wasted face implies a purpose no less +ruthless.</p> + +<p>At dawn the position is unchanged. The man still droops over his +saddle-horn, a little lower perhaps, but his general attitude is the +same. As the daylight shoots athwart the horizon and lightens the +darkness of the bush to a gray twilight the horse raises his head and +pricks up his ears. The man’s eyes glance swiftly toward the south and +his alertness is intensified.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span></p><p>Now the soft rustle of flurrying snow becomes audible, and the muffled +pounding of a horse’s hoofs can be heard upon the trail. The look that +leaps into the waiting man’s eyes tells plainly that this is what he +has so patiently awaited, that here, at last, is the key to his lonely +vigil. He draws his horse back further into the bushes and his hand +moves swiftly to one of the holsters upon his hips. His thin, drawn +features are sternly set, and the sunken eyes are lit with a deep, +hard light.</p> + +<p>Daylight broadens and reveals the barren surroundings; the sound draws +nearer. The silent horseman grips his gun and lays it across his lap +with his forefinger ready upon the trigger. His quick ears tell him +that the traveler has entered the bush and that he is walking his +horse. The time seems endless, while the horseman waits, but his +patience is not exhausted by any means. For more than a week, +subsisting on the barest rations which an empty pocket has driven him +to beg in that bleak country, he has looked for this meeting.</p> + +<p>Now, through the bushes, he sees the traveler as his horse ambles down +the trail toward him. It is a slight fur-clad figure much like his +own, but, to judge by the grim smile that passes across his gaunt +features, one which gives the waiting man eminent satisfaction. He +notes the stranger’s alert movements, the quick, flashing black eyes, +the dark features, as he peers from side to side in the bush, over the +edge of the down-turned storm-collar; the legs which set so close to +the saddle, the clumsily mitted hands. Nor does he fail to observe the +uneasy looks he casts about him, and he sees that, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span>in spite of the +solitude, the man is fearful of his surroundings.</p> + +<p>The stranger draws abreast of the black sign-board. His sidelong +glances cannot miss the irregular, chalked characters. His horse comes +to a dead stand opposite them, and the rider’s eyes become fixed upon +the strange message. He reads; and while he reads his lips move like +one who spells out the words he sees.</p> + +<p>“This is the One-Way Trail,” he reads. And then his eyes turn in the +direction of the pointing finger.</p> + +<p>He looks down the trail which leads to Battule, whither the finger is +pointing, and, looking, a strange expression creeps over his dusky +features. Instinctively, he understands that the warning is meant for +him. And, in his heart, he believes that death for him lies somewhere +out there. And yet he does not turn and flee. He simply sits looking +and thinking.</p> + +<p>Again, as if fascinated, his eyes wander back to the legend upon the +board and he reads and rereads the message it conveys. And all the +time he is a prey to a curious, uncertain feeling. For his mind goes +back over many scenes that do him little credit. Even to his callous +nature there is something strangely prophetic in that message, and its +effect he cannot shake off. And while he stares his dark features +change their hue, and he passes one mitted hand across his forehead.</p> + +<p>There is a sudden crackling of breaking brushwood within a few yards +of him; his horse bounds to one side and it is with difficulty he +retains his seat in the saddle; then he flashes a look in the +direction whence the noise proceeds, only to reel back as though to +ward <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span>off a blow. He is looking into the muzzle of a heavy “six” with +Arizona’s blazing eyes running over the sight.</p> + +<p>The silence of the bush remained unbroken as the two men looked into +each other’s faces. The gun did not belch forth its death-dealing +pellet. It was simply there, leveled, to enforce its owner’s will. Its +compelling presence was a power not easily to be defied in a country +where, in those days, the surest law was carried in the holster on the +hip. The man recovered and submitted. His hands, encased in mitts, had +placed him at a woeful disadvantage.</p> + +<p>Arizona saw this and lowered his gun, but his eyes never lost sight of +the fur-clad hands before him. He straightened himself up in the +saddle, refusing to display any of his weakness to this man.</p> + +<p>“Guess I’ve waited fer you, ‘Tough’ McCulloch, fer nigh on a week,” he +said slowly, in a thin, strident voice. “I’ve coaxed you some too, I +guess. You wus hidden mighty tight, but not jest tight ’nuff. I ’lows +I located you, an’ I wa’n’t goin’ to lose sight o’ you. When you quit +Skitter Bend, like the whipped cur you wus, I wus right hot on your +trail. An’ I ain’t never left it. See? Say, in all the hundreds o’ +miles you’ve traveled sence you quit the creek ther’ ain’t bin a move +as you’ve took I ain’t looked on at. I’ve trailed you, headed you, bin +alongside you, an’ located wher’ you wus makin’, an’ come along an’ +waited on you. Ther’s a score ’tween you an’ me as wants squarin’. I’m +right here fer to squar’ that score.”</p> + +<p>Arizona’s sombre face was unrelieved by any change <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span>of expression +while he was speaking. There was no anger in his tone; just cold, calm +purpose, and some contempt. And whatever feelings the half-breed may +have had he seemed incapable of showing them, except in the sickly hue +of his face.</p> + +<p>The fascination of the message on the board still seemed to attract +him, for, without heeding the other’s words, he glanced over at the +seared tree-trunk and nodded at it.</p> + +<p>“See. Dat ting. It your work. Hah?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; an’ I take it the meanin’s clear to you. You’ve struck the trail +we all stan’ on some time, pardner, an’ that trail is mostly called +the ‘One-Way Trail.’ It’s a slick, broad trail, an’ one as is that +smooth to the foot as you’re like to find anywheres. It’s so dead easy +you can’t help goin’ on, an’ you on’y larn its cussedness when you +kind o’ notion gittin’ back. I ’lows as one o’ them glacier things on +top o’ yonder mountains is li’ble to be easier climbin’ nor turnin’ +back on that trail. The bed o’ that trail is blood, blood that’s +mostly shed in crime, an’ its surface is dusted wi’ all manner o’ +wrong doin’s sech as you an’ me’s bin up to. Say, it ain’t a long +trail, I’m guessin’, neither. It’s dead short, in fac’ the end comes +sudden-like, an’ vi’lent. But I ’lows the end ain’t allus jest the +same. Sometimes y’ll find a rope hangin’ in the air. Sometimes ther’s +a knife jabbin’ around; sometimes ther’s a gun wi’ a light pull +waitin’ handy, same as mine. But I figger all them things mean jest +’bout the same. It’s death, pardner; an’ it ain’t easy neither. Say, +you an’ me’s pretty nigh that end. You ’special. Guess you’re goin’ to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span>pass over fust. Mebbe I’ll pass over when I’m ready. It ain’t jest +ne’sary fer the likes o’ us to yarn Gospel wi’ one another, but I’m +goin’ to tell you somethin’ as mebbe you’re worritin’ over jest ’bout +now. It’s ’bout a feller’s gal—his wife—which the same that feller +never did you no harm. But fust y’ll put up them mitts o’ yours, I +sees as they’re gettin’ oneasy, worritin’ around as though they’d a +notion to git a grip on suthin’.”</p> + +<p>The half-breed made no attempt to obey, but stared coldly into the +lean face before him.</p> + +<p>“Hands up!” roared Arizona, with such a dreadful change of tone that +the man’s hands were thrust above his head as though a shot had struck +him.</p> + +<p>Arizona moved over to him and removed a heavy pistol from the man’s +coat pocket, and then, having satisfied himself that he had no other +weapons concealed about him, dropped back to his original position.</p> + +<p>“Ah, I wus jest sayin’, ’bout that feller’s wife,” he went on quietly. +“Say, you acted the skunk t’ward that feller. An’ that feller wus me. +I don’t say I wus jest a daisy husband fer that gal, but that wa’n’t +your consarn. Wot’s troublin’ wus your monkeyin’ around, waitin’ so +he’s out o’ the way an’ then vamoosin’ wi’ the wench an’ all. Guess +I’m goin’ to kill you fer that sure. But ther’ ain’t none o’ the skunk +to me. I’m goin’ to treat you as you wouldn’t treat me ef I wus +settin’ wher’ you are, which I ain’t. You’re goin’ to hit the One-Way +Trail. But you ken hit it like what you ain’t, an’ that’s a man.”</p> + +<p>Arizona’s calm, judicial tone goaded his hearer. But <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span>“Tough” +McCulloch was not the man to shout. His was a deadlier composition +such as the open American hated and despised, and hardly understood. +He contented himself with a cynical remark which fired the other’s +volcanic temper so that he could scarcely hold his hand.</p> + +<p>“Me good to her,” he said, with a shrug.</p> + +<p>“You wus good to her, wus you? You who knew her man wus livin’! You, +as mebbe has ha’f a dozen wives livin’. You wus good to her! Wal, +you’re goin’ to pay now. Savee? You’re goin’ to pay fer your flutter +wi’ chips, chips as drip wi’ blood—your blood.”</p> + +<p>The half-breed shrugged again. He was outwardly unconcerned, but +inwardly he was cursing the luck that he had been wearing mitts upon +his hands when he entered the bluff. He watched Arizona as he climbed +out of his saddle. He beheld the signs of weakness which the other +could no longer disguise, but they meant nothing to him, at least, +nothing that could serve him. He knew he must wait the cowpuncher’s +pleasure; and why? The ring of white metal which marks the muzzle of a +gun has the power to hold brave man and coward alike. He dared not +move, and he was wise enough not to attempt it.</p> + +<p>Arizona drove his horse off into the bush, and stepped over to his +prisoner, who still remained mounted, halting abreast of the man’s +stirrup and a few yards to one side of it. His features now wore the +shadow of a grim smile as he paused and looked into the face which +displayed so much assumed unconcern.</p> + +<p>“See this gun,” he said, drawing attention to the one <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span>he held in his +right hand; “it’s a forty-fi’, an’ I’m guessin’ it’s loaded in two +chambers.” Then he scraped the snow off a small patch of the road with +his foot. “That gun I lay right here,” he went on, stooping to deposit +it, but still keeping his eyes fixed upon the horseman. “Then I step +back, so,” moving backward with long regular strides, “an’ I reckon I +count fifteen paces. Then I clear another space,” he added grimly, +like some fiendish conjurer describing the process of his tricks, “and +stand ready. Now, ‘Tough’ McCulloch, or Anton, or wotever you notion +best, skunk as you are, you’re goin’ to die decent. You’re goin’ to +die as a gentleman in a square fought duel. You’re goin’ to die in a +slap-up way as is a sight too good fer you, but don’t go fer to make +no mistake—you’re goin’ to die. Yes, you’re goin’ to get off’n that +plug o’ yours an’ stand on that patch, an’ I’m goin’ to count three, +nice an’ steady, one-two-three! Just so. An’ then we’re goin’ to grab +up them guns an’ let rip. I ’lows you’ll fall first ’cause I’m goin’ +to kill you—sure. Say, you’ll ’blige me by gittin’ off’n that plug.”</p> + +<p>The half-breed made no move. His unconcern was leaving him under the +deliberate purpose of this man.</p> + +<p>“Git off o’ that plug!” Arizona roared out his command with all the +force of his suppressed passion.</p> + +<p>The man obeyed instantly. And it was plain now that his courage was +deserting him. But in proportion his cunning rose. He made a pitiful +attempt at swagger as he walked up to his mark, and his fierce eyes +watched every movement of his opponent. And Arizona’s evident +condition of starvation struck him <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span>forcibly, and the realization of +it suggested to his scheming brain a possible means of escape.</p> + +<p>“You mighty fine givin’ chances, mister,” he said, between his teeth. +“Maybe you sing different later. Bah! you make me laff. Say, I ready.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, git right ahead an’ laff,” Arizona replied imperturbably. “An’ +meanwhiles while you’re laffin’, I’ll trouble you to git out o’ that +sheep’s hide. It ain’t fit clothin’ fer you noways. Howsum, it helps +to thicken your hide. Take it off.”</p> + +<p>The half-breed obeyed and the two men now stood motionless. Arizona +was an impressive figure in that world of snow. Never before had his +personality been so marked. It may have been the purpose that moved +him that raised him to something superior to the lean, volcanic cowboy +he had hitherto been. His old slouching gait, in spite of his evident +weakness, was quite gone; his shaggy head was held erect, and he gazed +upon his enemy with eyes which the other could not face. For the time, +at least, the indelible stamp of his disastrous life was disguised by +the fire of his eyes and the set of his features. And this moral +strength he conveyed in every action in a manner which no violence, no +extent of vocabulary could have done. This man before him had robbed +him of the woman he had loved. He should die.</p> + +<p>His pistol was still in his hand.</p> + +<p>“When I say ‘three,’ you’ll jest grab for your gun—an’ fire,” he said +solemnly.</p> + +<p>He relapsed into silence, and, after a moment’s pause, slowly stooped +to deposit his weapon. His <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span>great roving eyes never relaxed their +vigilance, and all the while he watched the man before him.</p> + +<p>Lower he bent, and the pistol touched the ground. He straightened up +swiftly and stood ready.</p> + +<p>“One!”</p> + +<p>The half-breed started as though a sharp spasm of pain had convulsed +his body. Then he stood as if about to spring.</p> + +<p>“Two!”</p> + +<p>McCulloch moved again. He stooped with almost incredible swiftness and +seized his gun, and the next moment two loud reports rang out, and he +threw his smoking weapon upon the ground.</p> + +<p>Arizona had not moved, though his face had gone a shade paler. He knew +he was wounded.</p> + +<p>“Three!”</p> + +<p>The American bent and seized his gun as the other made a dash for his +horse. He stood up, and took deliberate aim. The half-breed was in the +act of swinging himself into his saddle. A shot rang out, and the +would-be fugitive’s foot fell out of the stirrup, and his knees gave +under him. Another shot split the air, and, without so much as a +groan, the man fell in a heap upon the ground, while a thick red +stream flowed from a wound at his left temple.</p> + +<p>Then silence reigned once more.</p> + +<p>After a while the sound of a slouching gait disturbed the grim peace +of the lonely bluff. Arizona shuffled slowly off the road. He reached +the edge of the bush; but he went no further. For he reeled, and his +hands clasped his body somewhere about his chest. His eyes <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span>were half +closed, and his face looked ghastly in the wintry light. By a great +effort he steadied himself and abruptly sat down in the snow. He was +just off the track and his back was against a bush.</p> + +<p>Leaning forward he drew his knees up and clasped his arms about them, +and remained rocking himself slowly to and fro. And, as he sat, he +felt something moist and warm saturating his clothes about his chest. +Several times he nodded and his lips moved, and his eyelids fell lower +and lower until he saw nothing of what was about him. He knew it was +over for him and he was satisfied.</p> + +<p>He remained for some time in this attitude. Once he opened his eyes +and looked round, but, somehow, he drew no satisfaction from what he +beheld. The world about him seemed unsteady and strangely dark. The +snow was no longer white, but had turned gray, and momentarily it grew +darker. He thankfully reclosed his eyes and continued to nurse +himself. Now, too, his limbs began to grow cold, and to feel useless. +He had difficulty in keeping his hands fast about his knees, but he +felt easy, and even comfortable. There was something soothing to him +in that warm tide which he felt to be flowing from somewhere about his +chest.</p> + +<p>The minutes slipped away and the man’s lips continued their silent +movement. Was he praying for the soul which he knew to be passing from +his body? It may have been so. It may have been that he was praying +for a girl and a man whom he had learned to love in the old days of +Mosquito Bend, and whom he <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a></span>was leaving behind him. This latter was +more than likely, for his was not a selfish nature.</p> + +<p>Again his eyes opened, and now they were quite unseeing; but the brain +behind them was still clear, for words, which were intelligible, came +slowly from his ashen lips.</p> + +<p>“It’s over, I guess,” he muttered. “Maybe life ain’t wi’out gold for +some. I ’lows I ain’t jest struck color right. Wal, I’m ready for the +reckonin’.”</p> + +<p>His hands unclasped and his legs straightened themselves out. Like a +weary man seeking repose he turned over and lay with his face buried +in the snow. Nor did he move again. For Arizona had ended his journey +over the One-Way Trail.</p> + +<hr class="large" /> +<h3><span class="smcap">Transcriber’s Note:</span></h3> + +<p>Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters’ errors; otherwise, +every effort has been made to remain true to the author’s words and +intent.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Night Riders, by Ridgwell Cullum + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NIGHT RIDERS *** + +***** This file should be named 29479-h.htm or 29479-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/4/7/29479/ + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +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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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 Night Riders + A Romance of Early Montana + +Author: Ridgwell Cullum + +Release Date: July 21, 2009 [EBook #29479] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NIGHT RIDERS *** + + + + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + The Night-Riders + + A Romance of Early Montana + + By + + RIDGWELL CULLUM + + _Author of "The Watchers of the Plains," "The + Sheriff of Dyke Hole," "The Trail of the + Axe," "The One-Way Trail," etc._ + + PHILADELPHIA + GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY + PUBLISHERS + + + + +Copyright, 1913, by + +GEORGE W. JACOBS & COMPANY + +_Published February, 1913_ + +_All rights reserved_ Printed in U. S. A. + + + + +[Illustration: He took her in his powerful arms and drew her to his +breast] + + + + +Contents + + + I. IN THE HANDS OF THE PHILISTINES 9 + + II. MOSQUITO BEND 26 + + III. THE BLIND MAN 46 + + IV. THE NIGHT-RIDERS 68 + + V. TRESLER BEGINS HIS EDUCATION 82 + + VI. THE KILLING OF MANSON ORR 104 + + VII. WHICH DEALS WITH THE MATTER OF DRINK 127 + + VIII. JOE NELSON INDULGES IN A LITTLE MATCH-MAKING 141 + + IX. TRESLER INVOLVES HIMSELF FURTHER; THE + LADY JEZEBEL IN A FREAKISH MOOD 157 + + X. A WILD RIDE 177 + + XI. THE TRAIL OF THE NIGHT-RIDERS 192 + + XII. THE RISING OF A SUMMER STORM 213 + + XIII. THE BEARDING OF JAKE 232 + + XIV. A PORTENTOUS INTERVIEW 248 + + XV. AT WILLOW BLUFF 263 + + XVI. WHAT LOVE WILL DO 285 + + XVII. THE LIGHTED LAMP 301 + + XVIII. THE RENUNCIATION 315 + + XIX. HOT UPON THE TRAIL 332 + + XX. BY THE LIGHT OF THE LAMP 349 + + XXI. AT WIDOW DANGLEY'S 364 + + XXII. THE PURSUIT OF RED MASK 381 + + XXIII. A RETURN TO THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES 395 + + XXIV. ARIZONA 412 + + + + +Illustrations + + + He Took Her in His Powerful Arms and Drew Her + to His Breast _Frontispiece_ + + A Moment Later He Beheld Two Horsemen + _Facing page_ 74 + + Left Alone with her Patient, She had Little to Do + but Reflect _Facing page_ 302 + + + + +The Night-Riders + + + + +CHAPTER I + +IN THE HANDS OF THE PHILISTINES + + +Forks Settlement no longer occupies its place upon the ordnance map of +the state of Montana. At least not _the_ Forks Settlement--the one +which nestled in a hollow on the plains, beneath the shadow of the +Rocky Mountains. It is curious how these little places do contrive to +slip off the map in the course of time. There is no doubt but that +they do, and are wholly forgotten, except, perhaps, by those who +actually lived or visited there. It is this way with all growing +countries, and anywhere from twenty to thirty years ago Montana was +distinctly a new country. + +It was about '85 that Forks Settlement enjoyed the height of its +prosperity--a prosperity based on the supply of dry-goods and +machinery to a widely scattered and sparse population of small +ranchers and farmers. These things brought it into existence and kept +it afloat for some years. Then it gradually faded from existence--just +as such places do. + +When John Tresler rode into Forks he wondered what rural retreat he +had chanced upon. He didn't wonder in those words, his language was +much more derogatory to the place than that. + +It was late one afternoon when his horse ambled gently on to the green +patch which served Forks as a market-place. He drew up and looked +around him for some one to give him information. The place was quite +deserted. It was a roasting hot day, and the people of Forks were not +given to moving about much on hot days, unless imperative business +claimed them. As there were only two seasons in the year when such a +thing was likely to happen, and this was not one of them, no one was +stirring. + +The sky was unshaded by a single cloud. Tresler was tired, stiff, and +consumed by a sponge-like thirst, for he was unused to long hours in +the saddle. And he had found a dreary monotony in riding over the +endless prairie lands of the West. + +Now he found himself surrounded by an uncertain circle of wooden +houses. None of them suggested luxury, but after the heaving rollers +of grass-land they suggested companionship and life. And just now that +was all the horseman cared about. + +He surveyed each house in turn, searching for a single human face. And +at last he beheld a window full of faces staring curiously at him from +the far side of the circle. It was enough. Touching his jaded horse's +flanks he rode over toward it. + +Further life appeared now in the form of a small man who edged shyly +round the angle of the building and stood gazing at him. The stranger +was a queer figure. His face was as brown as the surface of a prairie +trail and just as scored with ruts. His long hair and flowing beard +were the color of matured hay. His dress was simple and in keeping +with his face; moleskin trousers, worn and soiled, a blue serge shirt, +a shabby black jacket, and a fiery handkerchief about his neck, while +a battered prairie hat adorned the back of his head. + +Tresler pulled his horse up before this welcome vision and slid +stiffly to the ground, while the little man slanted his eyes over his +general outfit. + +"Is this Forks Settlement?" the newcomer asked, with an ingratiating +smile. He was a manly looking fellow with black hair and steel-blue +eyes; he was dressed in a plain Norfolk jacket and riding kit. He was +not particularly handsome, but possessed a strong, reliant face. + +The stranger closed his eyes in token of acquiescence. + +"Ur-hum," he murmured. + +"Will you point me out the hotel?" + +The other's eyes had finally settled themselves on the magnificent +pair of balloon-shaped corduroy riding-breeches Tresler was wearing, +which had now resettled themselves into their natural voluminous +folds. + +He made no audible reply. He was engrossed with the novel vision +before him. A backward jerk of the head was the only sign he permitted +himself. + +Tresler looked at the house indicated. He felt in some doubt, and not +without reason. The place was a mere two-storied shanty, all askew and +generally unpromising. + +"Can I--that is, does the proprietor take--er--guests?" he asked. + +"Guess Carney takes most anythin'," came the easy reply. + +The door of the hotel opened and two men came out, eyeing the newcomer +and his horse critically. Then they propped themselves in leisurely +fashion against the door-casing, and chewed silently, while they gazed +abroad with marked unconcern. + +Tresler hazarded another question. He felt strange in this company. It +was his first real acquaintance with a prairie settlement, and he +didn't quite know what to expect. + +"I wonder if there is any one to see to my horse," he said with some +hesitation. + +"Hitch him to the tie-post an' ast in ther'," observed the +uncommunicative man, pointing to a post a few yards from the door, but +without losing interest in the other's nether garments. + +"That sounds reasonable." + +Tresler moved off and secured his horse and loosened the +saddle-girths. + +"Pardon me, sir," he said, when he came back, his well-trimmed six +feet towering over the other's five feet four. "Might I ask whom I +have the pleasure of addressing? My name is John Tresler; I am on my +way to Mosquito Bend, Julian Marbolt's ranch. A stranger, you see, in +a strange land. No doubt you have observed that already," he finished +up good-naturedly. + +But the other's attention was not to be diverted from the interesting +spectacle of the corduroys, and he answered without shifting his gaze. + +"My name's Ranks--gener'ly called 'Slum.' Howdy." + +"Well, Mr. Ranks----" + +"Gener'ly called 'Slum,'" interrupted the other. + +"Mr. Slum, then----" Tresler smiled. + +"Slum!" + +The man's emphasis was marked. There was no cheating him of his due. +"Slum" was his sobriquet by the courtesy of prairie custom. "Ranks" +was purely a paternal heirloom and of no consequence at all. + +"Well, Slum," Tresler laughed, "suppose we go and sample Carney's +refreshments. I'm tired, and possess a thirst." + +He stepped toward the doorway and looked back. Mr. Ranks had not +moved. Only his wondering eyes had followed the other's movements. + +"Won't you join me?" Tresler asked. Then, noting the fixed stare in +the man's eyes, he went on with some impatience, "What the dickens are +you staring at?" And, in self-defense, he was forced into a survey of +his own riding-breeches. + +Slum looked up. A twinkle of amusement shone beneath his heavy brows, +while a broad grin parted the hair on his face. + +"Oh, jest nothin'," he said amiably. "I wer' kind o' figgerin' out +what sort of a feller them pants o' yours wus made for." He doused the +brown earth at his feet with tobacco juice. Then shaking his head +thoughtfully, a look of solemn wonder replaced the grin. "Say," he +added, "but he must 'a' bin a dandy chunk of a man." + +Tresler was about to reply. But a glance at Mr. Ranks, and an audible +snigger coming from the doorway, suddenly changed his mind. He swung +round to face a howl of laughter; and he understood. + +"The drinks are on me," he said with some chagrin. "Come on, all of +you. Yes, I'm a 'tenderfoot.'" + +And it was the geniality of his reply that won him a place in the +society of Forks Settlement at once. In five minutes his horse was +stabled and cared for. In five minutes he was addressing the occupants +of the saloon by their familiar nicknames. In five minutes he was +paying for whisky at an exorbitant price. In five minutes--well, he +sniffed his first breath of prairie habits and prairie ways. + +It is not necessary to delve deeply into the characters of these +citizens of Forks. It is not good to rake bad soil, the process is +always offensive. A mere outline is alone necessary. Ike Carney +purveyed liquor. A little man with quick, cunning eyes, and a mouth +that shut tight under a close-cut fringe of gray moustache. "Shaky" +Pindle, the carpenter, was a sad-eyed man who looked as gentle as a +disguised wolf. His big, scarred face never smiled, because, his +friends said, it was a physical impossibility for it to do so, and his +huge, rough body was as uncouth as his manners, and as unwieldy as his +slow-moving tongue. Taylor, otherwise "Twirly," the butcher, was a man +so genial and rubicund that in five minutes you began to wish that he +was built like the lower animals that have no means of giving audible +expression to their good humor, or, if they have, there is no +necessity to notice it except by a well-directed kick. And Slum, +quiet, unsophisticated Slum, shadier than the shadiest of them all, +but a man who took the keenest delight in the humors of life, and who +did wrong from an inordinate delight in besting his neighbors. A man +to smile at, but to avoid. + +These were the men John Tresler, fresh from Harvard and a generous +home, found himself associated with while he rested on his way to +Mosquito Bend. + +Ike Carney laid himself out to be pleasant. + +"Goin' to Skitter Bend?" he observed, as he handed his new guest the +change out of a one hundred dollar bill. "Wal, it's a tidy +layout;--ninety-five dollars, mister; a dollar a drink. You'll find +that c'rect--best ranch around these parts. Say," he went on, "the ol' +blind hoss has hunched it together pretty neat. I'll say that." + +"Blind mule," put in Slum, vaulting to a seat on the bar. + +"Mule?" questioned Shaky, with profound scorn. "Guess you ain't worked +around his layout, Slum. Skunk's my notion of him. I 'lows his +kickin's most like a mule's, but ther' ain't nothin' more to the +likeness. A mule's a hard-workin', decent cit'zen, which ain't off'n +said o' Julian Marbolt." + +Shaky swung a leg over the back of a chair and sat down with his arms +folded across it, and his heavy bearded chin resting upon them. + +"But you can't expect a blind man to be the essence of amiability," +said Tresler. "Think of his condition." + +"See here, young feller," jerked in Shaky, thrusting his chin-beard +forward aggressively. "Condition ain't to be figgered on when a man +keeps a great hulkin', bulldozin' swine of a foreman like Jake +Harnach. Say, them two, the blind skunk an' Jake, ken raise more hell +in five minutes around that ranch than a tribe o' neches on the +war-path. I built a barn on that place last summer, an' I guess I +know." + +"Comforting for me," observed Tresler, with a laugh. + +"Oh, you ain't like to git his rough edge," put in Carney, easily. + +"Guess you're payin' a premium?" asked Shaky. + +"I'm going to have three years' teaching." + +"Three years o' Skitter Bend?" said Slum, quietly. "Guess you'll learn +a deal in three years o' Skitter Bend." + +The little man chewed the end of a cigar Tresler had presented him +with, while his twinkling eyes exchanged meaning glances with his +comrades. Twirly laughed loudly and backed against the bar, stretching +out his arms on either side of him, and gripping its moulded edge with +his beefy hands. + +"An' you're payin' fer that teachin'?" the butcher asked +incredulously, when his mirth had subsided. + +"It seems the custom in this country to pay for everything you get," +Tresler answered, a little shortly. + +He was being laughed at more than he cared about. Still he checked his +annoyance. He wanted to know something about the local reputation of +the rancher he had apprenticed himself to, so he fired a direct +question in amongst his audience. + +"Look here," he said sharply. "What's the game? What's the matter with +this Julian Marbolt?" + +He looked round for an answer, which, for some minutes, did not seem +to be forthcoming. + +Slum broke the silence at last. "He's blind," he said quietly. + +"I know that," retorted Tresler, impatiently. "It's something else I +want to know." + +He looked at the butcher, who only laughed. He turned on the +saloon-keeper, who shook his head. Finally he applied to Shaky. + +"Wal," the carpenter began, with a ponderous air of weighing his +words. "I ain't the man to judge a feller offhand like. I 'lows I know +suthin' o' the blind man o' Skitter Bend, seein' I wus workin' +contract fer him all last summer. An' wot I knows is--nasty. I've +see'd things on that ranch as made me git a tight grip on my axe, an' +long a'mighty hard to bust a few heads in. I've see'd that all-fired +Jake Harnach, the foreman, hammer hell out o' some o' the hands, wi' +tha' blind man standin' by jest as though his gummy eyes could see +what was doin', and I've watched his ugly face workin' wi' every blow +as Jake pounded, 'cos o' the pleasure it give him. I've see'd some o' +those fellers wilter right down an' grovel like yaller dorgs at their +master's feet. I've see'd that butcher-lovin' lot handle their hosses +an' steers like so much dead meat--an' wuss'n. I've see'd hell around +that ranch. 'An' why for,' you asks, 'do their punchers an' hands +stand it?' ''Cos,' I answers quick, 'ther' ain't a job on this +countryside fer 'em after Julian Marbolt's done with 'em.' That's why. +'Wher' wus you workin' around before?' asks a foreman. 'Skitter Bend,' +says the puncher. 'Ain't got nothin' fer you,' says the foreman +quick; 'guess this ain't no butcherin' bizness!' An' that's jest how +it is right thro' with Skitter Bend," Shaky finished up, drenching the +spittoon against the bar with consummate accuracy. + +"Right--dead right," said Twirly, with a laugh. + +"Guess, mebbe, you're prejudiced some," suggested Carney, with an eye +on his visitor. + +"Shaky's taken to book readin'," said Slum, gently. "Guess dime +fiction gits a powerful holt on some folk." + +"Dime fiction y'rself," retorted Shaky, sullenly. "Mebbe young Dave +Steele as come back from ther' with a hole in his head that left him +plumb crazy ever since till he died, 'cos o' some racket he had wi' +Jake--mebbe that's out of a dime fiction. Say, you git right to it, +an' kep on sousin' whisky, Slum Ranks. You ken do that--you can't tell +me 'bout the blind man." + +A pause in the conversation followed while Ike dried some glasses. The +room was getting dark. It was a cheerless den. Tresler was +thoughtfully smoking. He was digesting and sifting what he had heard; +trying to separate fact from fiction in Shaky's story. He felt that +there must be some exaggeration. At last he broke the silence, and all +eyes were turned on him. + +"And do you mean to say there is no law to protect people on these +outlying stations? Do you mean to tell me that men sit down quietly +under such dastardly tyranny?" His questions were more particularly +directed toward Shaky. + +"Law?" replied the carpenter. "Law? Say, we don't rec'nize no law +around these parts--not yet. Mebbe it's comin', but--I 'lows ther's +jest one law at present, an' that we mostly carries on us. Oh, Jake +Harnach's met his match 'fore now. But 'tain't frekent. Yes, Jake's a +big swine, wi' the muscle o' two men; but I've seen him git downed, +and not a hund'ed mile from wher' we're settin'. Say, Ike," he turned +to the man behind the bar, "you ain't like to fergit the night Black +Anton called his 'hand.' Ther' ain't no bluff to Anton. When he gits +to the bizness end of a gun it's best to get your thumbs up sudden." + +The saloon-keeper nodded. "Guess there's one man who's got Jake's +measure, an' that's Black Anton." + +The butcher added a punctuating laugh, while Slum nodded. + +"And who's Black Anton?" asked Tresler of the saloon-keeper. + +"Anton? Wal, I guess he's Marbolt's private hoss keeper. He's a +half-breed. French-Canadian; an' tough. Say, he's jest as quiet an' +easy you wouldn't know he was around. Soft spoken as a woman, an' jest +about as vicious as a rattler. Guess you'll meet him. An' I 'lows he's +meetable--till he's riled." + +"Pleasant sort of man if he can cow this wonderful Jake," observed +Tresler, quietly. + +"Oh, yes, pleasant 'nough," said Ike, mistaking his guest's meaning. + +"The only thing I can't understand 'bout Anton," said Slum, suddenly +becoming interested, "is that he's earnin' his livin' honest. He's too +quiet, an'--an' iley. He sort o' slid into this territory wi'out a +blamed cit'zen of us knowin'. We've heerd tell of him sence from +'crost the border, an' the yarns ain't nice. I don't figger to argue +wi' strangers at no time, an' when Anton's around I don't never git +givin' no opinion till he's done talkin', when I mostly find mine's +the same as his." + +"Some folks ain't got no grit," growled Shaky, contemptuously. + +"An' some folk 'a' got so much grit they ain't got no room fer savee," +rapped in Slum sharply. + +"Meanin' me," said Shaky, sitting up angrily. + +"I 'lows you've got grit," replied the little man quietly, looking +squarely into the big man's eyes. + +"Go to h----" + +"Guess I'd as lief be in Forks; it's warmer," replied Slum, +imperturbably. + +"Stow yer gas! You nag like a widder as can't git a second man." + +"Which wouldn't happen wi' folk o' your kidney around." + +Shaky was on his feet in an instant, and his anger was blazing in his +fierce eyes. + +"Say, you gorl----" + +"Set right ther', Shaky," broke in Slum, as the big man sprang toward +him. "Set right ther'; ther' ain't goin' to be no hoss-play." + +Slum Ranks had not shifted his position, but his right hand had dived +into his jacket pocket and his eyes flashed ominously. And the +carpenter dropped back into his seat without a word. + +And Tresler looked on in amazement. It was all so quick, so sudden. +There had hardly been a breathing space between the passing of their +good-nature and their swift-rising anger. The strangeness of it all, +the lawlessness, fascinated him. He knew he was on the fringe of +civilization, but he had had no idea of how sparse and short that +fringe was. He thought that civilization depended on the presence of +white folk. That, of necessity, white folk must themselves have the +instincts of civilization. + +Here he saw men, apparently good comrades all, who were ready, on the +smallest provocation, to turn and rend each other. It was certainly a +new life to him, something that perhaps he had vaguely dreamt of, but +the possibility of the existence of which he had never seriously +considered. + +But, curiously enough, as he beheld these things for himself for the +first time, they produced no shock, they disturbed him in nowise. It +all seemed so natural. More, it roused in him a feeling that such +things should be. Possibly this feeling was due to his own upbringing, +which had been that of an essentially athletic university. He even +felt the warm blood surge through his veins at the prospect of a +forcible termination to the two men's swift passage of arms. + +But the ebullition died out as quickly as it had risen. Slum slid from +the bar to the ground, and his deep-set eyes were smiling again. + +"Pshaw," he said, with a careless shrug, "ther' ain't nothin' to grit +wi'out savee." + +Shaky rose and stretched himself as though nothing had happened to +disturb the harmony of the meeting. The butcher relinquished his hold +on the bar and moved across to the window. + +"Guess the missis'll be shoutin' around fer you fellers to git your +suppers," Slum observed cheerfully. Then he turned to Tresler. "Ike, +here, don't run no boarders. Mebbe you'd best git around to my shack. +Sally'll fix you up with a blanket or two, an' the grub ain't bad. You +see, I run a boardin'-house fer the boys--leastways, Sally does." + +And Tresler adopted the suggestion. He had no choice but to do so. +Anyway, he was quite satisfied with the arrangement. He had entered +the life of the prairie and was more than willing to adopt its ways +and its people. + +And the recollection of that first night in Forks remained with him +when the memory of many subsequent nights had passed from him. It +stuck to him as only the first strong impressions of a new life can. + +He met Sally Ranks--she was two sizes too large for the dining-room of +the boarding-house--who talked in a shrieking nasal manner that cut +the air like a knife, and who heaped the plates with coarse food that +it was well to have a good appetite to face. He dined for the first +time in his life at a table that had no cloth, and devoured his food +with the aid of a knife and fork that had never seen a burnish since +they had first entered the establishment, and drank boiled tea out of +a tin cup that had once been enameled. He was no longer John Tresler, +fresh from the New England States, but one of fourteen boarders, the +majority of whom doubled the necessary length of their sentences when +they conversed by reason of an extensive vocabulary of blasphemy, and +picked their teeth with their forks. + +But it was pleasant to him. He was surrounded by something approaching +the natural man. Maybe they were drawn from the dregs of society, but +nevertheless they had forcibly established their right to live--a +feature that had lifted them from the ruck of thousands of law-abiding +citizens. He experienced a friendly feeling for these ruffians. More, +he had a certain respect for them. + +After supper many of them drifted back to their recreation-ground, the +saloon. Tresler, although he had no inclination for drink, would have +done the same. He wished to see more of the people, to study them as a +man who wishes to prepare himself for a new part. But the quiet Slum +drew him back and talked gently to him; and he listened. + +"Say, Tresler," the little man remarked offhandedly, "ther's three +fellers lookin' fer a gamble. Two of 'em ain't a deal at 'draw,' the +other's pretty neat. I tho't, mebbe, you'd notion a hand up here wi' +us. It's better'n loafin' down 't the saloon. We most gener'ly play a +dollar limit." + +And so it was arranged. Tresler stayed. He was initiated. He learned +the result of a game of "draw" in Forks, where the players made the +whole game of life a gamble, and attained a marked proficiency in the +art. + +The result was inevitable. By midnight there were four richer citizens +in Forks, and a newcomer who was poorer by his change out of a +hundred-dollar bill. But Tresler lost quite cheerfully. He never +really knew how it was he lost, whether it was his bad play or bad +luck. He was too tired and sleepy long before the game ended. He +realized next morning, when he came to reflect, that in some +mysterious manner he had been done. However, he took his initiation +philosophically, making only a mental reservation for future guidance. + +That night he slept on a palliasse of straw, with a pillow consisting +of a thin bolster propped on his outer clothes. Three very yellow +blankets made up the tally of comfort. And the whole was spread out on +the floor of a room in which four other men were sleeping noisily. + +After breakfast he paid his bill, and, procuring his horse, prepared +for departure. His first acquaintance in Forks stood his friend to the +last. Slum it was who looked round his horse to see that the girths of +the saddle were all right; Slum it was who praised the beast in quiet, +critical tones; Slum it was who shook him by the hand and wished him +luck; Slum it was who gave him a parting word of advice; just as it +was Slum who had first met him with ridicule, cared for him--at a +price--during his sojourn, and quietly robbed him at a game he knew +little about. And Tresler, with the philosophy of a man who has that +within him which must make for achievement, smiled, shook hands +heartily and with good will, and quietly stored up the wisdom he had +acquired in his first night in Forks Settlement. + +"Say, Tresler," exclaimed Slum, kindly, as he wrung his departing +guest's hand, "I'm real glad I've met you. I 'lows, comin' as you did, +you might 'a' run dead into some durned skunk as hadn't the manners +for dealin' with a hog. There's a hatful of 'em in Forks. S'long. Say, +ther's a gal at Skitter Bend. She's the ol' blind boss's daughter, an' +she's a dandy. But don't git sparkin' her wi' the ol' man around." + +Tresler laughed. Slum amused him. + +"Good-bye," he said. "Your kindness has taken a load--off my mind. I +know more than I did yesterday morning. No, I won't get sparking the +girl with the old man around. See you again some time." + +And he passed out of Forks. + +"That feller's a decent--no, he's a gentleman," muttered Slum, staring +after the receding horseman. "Guess Skitter Bend's jest about the +place fer him. He'll bob out on top like a cork in a water bar'l. Say, +Jake Harnach'll git his feathers trimmed or I don't know a +'deuce-spot' from a 'straight flush.'" + +Which sentiment spoke volumes for his opinion of the man who had just +left him. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +MOSQUITO BEND + + +Forks died away in a shimmering haze of heat as Tresler rode out over +the hard prairie trail. Ten miles they had told him it was to Mosquito +Bend; a ten-mile continuation of the undulating plains he had now +grown accustomed to. He allowed his horse to take it leisurely. There +was no great hurry for an early arrival. + +John Tresler had done what many an enterprising youngster from the New +England States has done since. At the age of twenty-five, finding +himself, after his university career at Harvard, with an excellent +training in all athletics, particularly boxing and wrestling and all +those games pertaining to the noble art of self-defense, but with only +a limited proficiency in matters relating to the earning of an +adequate living, he had decided to break new ground for himself on the +prairie-lands of the West. Stock-raising was his object, and, to this +end, he had sought out a ranch where he could thoroughly master the +craft before embarking on his own enterprise. + +It was through official channels that he had heard of Mosquito Bend as +one of the largest ranches in the country at the time, and he had at +once entered into negotiations with the owner, Julian Marbolt, for a +period of instruction. His present journey was the result. + +He thought a good deal as his horse ambled over that ten miles. He +weighed the stories he had heard from Shaky, and picked them +threadbare. He reduced his efforts to a few pointed conclusions. +Things were decidedly rough at Mosquito Bend. Probably the brutality +was a case of brute force pitted against brute force--he had taken +into consideration the well-known disposition of the Western +cowpuncher--and, as such, a matter of regretable necessity for the +governing of the place. Shaky had in some way fallen foul of the +master and foreman and had allowed personal feelings to warp his +judgment. And, lastly, taking his "greenness" into account, he had +piled up the agony simply from the native love of the "old hand" for +scaring a newcomer. + +Tresler was no weakling or he would never have set out to shape his +own course as he was now doing. He was a man of considerable purpose, +self-reliant and reasonable, with sufficient easy good-nature to be +compatible with strength. He liked his own experiences too, though he +never scorned the experiences of another. Slum had sized him up pretty +shrewdly when he said "he'll bob out on top like a cork in a water +bar'l," but he had not altogether done him full justice. + +The southwestern trail headed slantwise for the mountains, which snowy +barrier bounded his vision to the west the whole of his journey. He +had watched the distant white-capped ramparts until their novelty had +worn off, and now he took their presence as a matter of course. His +eyes came back to the wide, almost limitless plains about him, and he +longed for the sight of a tree, a river, even a cultivated patch of +nodding wheat. But there was just nothing but the lank, tawny grass +for miles and miles, and the blazing sunlight that scorched him and +baked gray streaks of dusty sweat on his horse's shoulders and flanks. + +He rode along dreaming, as no doubt hundreds of others have dreamt +before and since. There was nothing new or original about his dreams, +for he was not a man given to romance. He was too direct and practical +for that. No, his were just the thoughts of a young man who has left +his home, which thereby gains in beauty as distance lends enchantment +to it, and kindly recollection crowns it with a glory that it could +never in reality possess. + +Without indication or warning, he came upon one of those strangely +hidden valleys in which the prairie near the Rockies abounds. He found +himself at the edge of it, gazing down upon a wide woodland-bound +river, which wound away to the east and west like the trail of some +prehistoric monster. The murmur of the flowing waters came to him with +such a suggestion of coolness and shade that, for the first time on +his long journey from Whitewater, he was made to forget the park-like +beauties of his own native land. + +There was a delightful variation of color in the foliage down there. +Such a density of shadow, such a brilliancy. And a refreshing breeze +was rustling over the tree-tops, a breath he had longed for on the +plains but had never felt. The opposite side was lower. He stood on a +sort of giant step. A wall that divided the country beyond from the +country he was leaving. A wall that seemed to isolate those who might +live down there and shut them out as though theirs was another world. + +He touched his horse's flanks, and, with careful, stilted steps, the +animal began the descent. And now he speculated as to the whereabouts +of the ranch, for he knew that this was the Mosquito River, and +somewhere upon its banks stood his future home. As he thought of this +he laughed. His future home; well, judging by what he had been told, +it would certainly possess the charm of novelty. + +He was forced to give up further speculation for a while. The trail +descended so sharply that his horse had to sidle down it, and the +loose shingle under its feet set it sliding and slipping dangerously. + +In a quarter of an hour he drew up on the river bank and looked about +him. Whither? That was the question. He was at four crossroads. East +and west, along the river bank; and north and south, the way he had +come and across the water. + +Along the bank the woods were thick and dark, and the trail split them +like the aisle of an aged Gothic church. The surface of red sand was +hard, but there were marks of traffic upon it. Then he looked across +the river at the distant rolling plains. + +"Of course," he said aloud. "Who's going to build a ranch on this +side? Where could the cattle run?" + +And he put his horse at the water and waded across without further +hesitation. Beyond the river the road bent away sharply to the right, +and cut through a wide avenue of enormous pine trees, and along this +he bustled his horse. Half a mile further on the avenue widened. The +solemn depths about him lightened, and patches of sunlight shone down +into them and lit up the matted underlay of rotting cones and +pine-needles which covered the earth. + +The road bent sharply away from the river, revealing a scrub of low +bush decorated with a collection of white garments, evidently set out +to dry. His horse shied at the unusual sight, and furthermore took +exception to the raucous sound of a man's voice chanting a dismal +melody, somewhere away down by the river on his right. + +In this direction he observed a cattle-path. And the sight of it +suggested ascertaining the identity of the doleful minstrel. No doubt +this man could give him the information he needed. He turned off the +road and plunged into scrub. And at the river bank he came upon a +curious scene. There was a sandy break in the bush, and the bank +sloped gradually to the water's edge. Three or four wash-tubs, +grouped together in a semicircle, stood on wooden trestles, and a +quaint-looking little man was bending over one of them washing +clothes, rubbing and beating a handful of garments on a board like any +washerwoman. His back was turned to the path, and he faced the river. +On his right stood an iron furnace and boiler, with steam escaping +from under the lid. And all around him the bushes were hung with +drying clothes. + +"Hello!" cried Tresler, as he slipped to the ground. + +"Holy smoke!" + +The scrubbing and banging had ceased, and the most curiously twisted +face Tresler had ever seen glanced back over the man's bowed shoulder. +A red, perspiring face, tufted at the point of the chin with a knot of +gray whisker, a pair of keen gray eyes, and a mouth--yes, it was the +mouth that held Tresler's attention. It went up on one side, and had +somehow got mixed up with his cheek, while a suggestion of it was +continued by means of a dark red scar right up to the left eye. + +For a second or two Tresler could not speak, he was so astonished, so +inclined to laugh. And all the while the gray eyes took him in from +head to foot; then another exclamation, even more awestruck, broke +from the stranger. + +"Gee-whizz!" + +And Tresler sobered at once. + +"Where's Mosquito Bend Ranch?" he asked. + +The little man dropped his washing and turned round, propping himself +against the edge of the tub. + +"Skitter Bend Ranch?" he echoed slowly, as though the meaning of the +question had not penetrated to his intellect. Then a subdued whisper +followed. "Gee, but I----" And he looked down at his own clothes as +though to reassure himself. + +Tresler broke in; he understood the trend of the other's thoughts. + +"Yes, Mosquito Bend," he said sharply. + +"Nigh to a mile on. Keep to the trail, an' you'll strike Blind Hell in +a few minutes. Say----" He broke off, and looked up into Tresler's +face. + +"Yes, I'm going there. You don't happen to belong to--to Blind Hell?" + +"Happen I do," assured the washerman. "I do the chores around the +ranch. Joe Nelson, once a stock raiser m'self. Kerrville, Texas. +Now----" He broke off, and waved a hand in the direction of the drying +clothes. + +"Well, I'm John Tresler, and I'm on my way to Mosquito Bend." + +"So you're the 'tenderfoot,'" observed the choreman, musingly. "You're +the feller from Noo England as Jake's goin' to lick into shape." + +"Going to teach, you mean." + +"I s'pose I do," murmured the other gently, but without conviction. +The twisted side of his face wrinkled hideously, while the other side +smiled. + +"You mentioned Blind Hell just now?" questioned Tresler, as the other +relapsed into a quiet survey of him. + +"Blind Hell, did I?" said Nelson, repeating the name, a manner which +seemed to be a habit of his. + +"Yes. What is it? What did you mean?" + +Tresler's questions were a little peremptory. He felt that the +riding-breeches that had caused such notice in Forks were likely to +bring him further ridicule. + +"Oh, it's jest a name. 'Tain't of no consequence. Say," the choreman +broke out suddenly, "you don't figger to git boostin' steers in that +rig?" He stretched out an abnormally long arm, and pointed a rough but +wonderfully clean finger at the flowing corduroys Tresler had now +become so sensitive about. + +"Great Scott, man!" he let out testily. "Have you never seen +riding-breeches before?--you, a ranchman." + +The tufted beard shot sideways again as the face screwed up and half +of it smiled. + +"I do allow I've seen such things before. Oncet," he drawled slowly, +with a slight Southern accent, but in a manner that betokened a speech +acquired by association rather than the natural tongue. "He was a +feller that came out to shoot big game up in the hills. I ain't seen +him sence, sure. Guess nobody did." He looked away sadly. "We heerd +tell of him. Guess he got fossicking after b'ar. The wind was blowin' +ter'ble. He'd climbed a mount'n. It was pretty high. Ther' wa'n't no +shelter. A gust o' that wind come an'--took him." + +Nelson had turned back to his tubs, and was again banging and rubbing. + +"A mile down the trail, I think you said?" Tresler cried, springing +hastily into the saddle. + +"Sure." + +And for the first time Tresler's horse felt the sharp prick of the +spurs as he rode off. + +Mosquito Bend Ranch stood in a wide clearing, with the house on a +rising ground above it. It was lined at the back by a thick pinewood. +For the rest the house faced out on to the prairie, and the verandahed +front overlooked the barns, corrals, and outhouses. It stood apart, +fully one hundred yards from the nearest outbuildings. + +This was the first impression Tresler obtained on arrival. The second +was that it was a magnificent ranch and the proprietor must be a +wealthy man. The third was one of disappointment; everything was so +quiet, so still. There was no rush or bustle. No horsemen riding +around with cracking whips; no shouting, no atmosphere of wildness. +And, worst of all, there were no droves of cattle tearing around. Just +a few old milch cows near by, peacefully grazing their day away, and +philosophically awaiting milking time. These, and a few dogs, a horse +or two loose in the corrals, and a group of men idling outside a low, +thatched building, comprised the life he first beheld as he rode into +the clearing. + +"And this is Blind Hell," he said to himself as he came. "It belies +its name. A more peaceful, beautiful picture, I've never clapped eyes +on." + +And then his thoughts went back to Forks. That too had looked so +innocent. After all, he remembered, it was the people who made or +marred a place. + +So he rode straight to a small, empty corral, and, off-saddling, +turned his horse loose, and deposited his saddle and bridle in the +shadow of the walls. Then he moved up toward the buildings where the +men were grouped. + +They eyed him steadily as he came, much as they might eye a strange +animal, and he felt a little uncomfortable as he recollected his +encounter first with Slum and more recently with Joe Nelson. He had +grown sensitive about his appearance, and a spirit of defiance and +retaliation awoke within him. + +But for some reason the men paid little attention to him just then. +One man was talking, and the rest were listening with rapt interest. +They were cowpunchers, every one. Cowpunchers such as Tresler had +heard of. Some were still wearing their fringed "chapps," their waists +belted with gun and ammunition; some were in plain overalls and thin +cotton shirts. All, except one, were tanned a dark, ruddy hue, +unshaven, unkempt, but tough-looking and hardy. The pale-faced +exception was a thin, sick-looking fellow with deep hollows under his +eyes, and lips as ashen as a corpse. He it was who was talking, and +his recital demanded a great display of dramatic gesture. + +Tresler came up and joined the group. "I never ast to git put up +ther'," he heard the sick man saying; "never ast, an' didn't want. It +was her doin's, an' I tell you fellers right here she's jest thet +serrupy an' good as don't matter. I'd 'a' rotted down here wi' flies +an' the heat for all they'd 'a' cared. That blind son of a ---- 'ud +'a' jest laffed ef I'd handed over, an' Jake--say, we'll level our +score one day, sure. Next time Red Mask, or any other hoss thief, gits +around, I'll bear a hand drivin' off the bunch. I ain't scrappin' no +more fer the blind man. Look at me. Guess I ain't no more use'n yon +'tenderfoot.'" The speaker pointed scornfully at Tresler, and his +audience turned and looked. "Guess I've lost quarts o' blood, an' have +got a hole in my chest ye couldn't plug with a corn-sack. An' now, +jest when I'm gittin' to mend decent, he comes an' boosts me right out +to the bunkhouse 'cause he ketches me yarnin' wi' that bit of a gal o' +his. But, say, she just let out on him that neat as you fellers never +heerd. Yes, sir, guess her tongue's like velvet mostly, but when she +turned on that blind hulk of a father of hers--wal, ther', ef I was a +cat an' had nine lives to give fer her they jest wouldn't be enough by +a hund'ed." + +"Say, Arizona," said one of the men quietly, "what was you yarnin' +'bout? Guess you allus was sweet on Miss Dianny." + +Arizona turned on the speaker fiercely. "That'll do fer you, Raw; +mebbe you ain't got savee, an' don't know a leddy when you sees one. +I'm a cow-hand, an' good as any man around here, an' ef you've any +doubts about it, why----" + +"Don't take no notice, Arizona," put in a lank youth quickly. He was a +tall, hungry-looking boy, in that condition of physical development +when nature seems in some doubt as to her original purpose. "'E's only +laffin' at you." + +"Guess Mister Raw Harris ken quit right here then, Teddy. I ain't +takin' his slack noways." + +"Git on with the yarn, Arizona," cried another. "Say, wot was you +sayin' to the gal?" + +"Y' see, Jacob," the sick man went on, falling back into his drawling +manner, "it wus this ways. Miss Dianny, she likes a feller to git +yarnin', an', seein' as I've been punchin' most all through the +States, she kind o' notioned my yarns. Which I 'lows is reasonable. +She'd fixed my chest up, an' got me trussed neat an' all, an' set +right down aside me fer a gas. You know her ways, kind o' sad an' +saft. Wal, she up an' tells me how she'd like gittin' in to Whitewater +next winter, an' talked o' dances an' sech. Say, she wus jest +whoopin' wi' the pleasure o' the tho't of it. Guess likely she'd be +mighty pleased to git a-ways. Wal, I don't jest know how it come, but +I got yarnin' of a barbecue as was held down Arizona way. I was +tellin' as how I wus ther', an' got winged nasty. It wa'n't much. Y' +see I was tellin' her as I wus runnin' a bit of a hog ranch them +times, an', on o-casions, we used to give parties. The pertickler +party I wus referrin' to wus a pretty wholesome racket. The boys got +good an' drunk, an' they got slingin' the lead frekent 'fore daylight +come around. Howsum, it wus the cause o' the trouble as I wus gassin' +'bout. Y' see, Brown was one of them juicy fellers that chawed hunks +o' plug till you could nose Virginny ev'ry time you got wi'in gunshot +of him. He was a cantankerous cuss was Brown, an' a deal too free wi' +his tongue. Y' see he'd a lady with him; leastways she wus the +pot-wolloper from the saloon he favored, an' he guessed as she wus +most as han'some as a Bible 'lustration. Wal, 'bout the time the +rotgut wus flowin' good an' frekent, they started in to pool fer the +prettiest wench in the room, as is the custom down ther'. Brown, he +wus dead set on his gal winnin', I guess; an' 'Dyke Hole' Bill, he'd +got a pretty tidy filly wi' him hisself, an' didn't reckon as no daisy +from a bum saloon could gi' her any sort o' start. Wal, to cut it +short, I guess the boys went dead out fer Bill's gal. It wus voted as +ther' wa'n't no gal around Spawn City as could dec'rate the country +wi' sech beauty. I guess things went kind o' silent when Shaggy Steele +read the ballot. The air o' that place got uneasy. I located the door +in one gulp. Y' see Brown was allus kind o' sudden. But the trouble +come diff'rent. The thing jest dropped, an' that party hummed fer a +whiles. Brown's gal up an' let go. Sez she, 'Here, guess I'm the dandy +o' this run, an' I ain't settin' around while no old hen from Dyke +Hole gits scoopin' prizes. She's goin' to lick me till I can't see, ef +she's yearnin' fer that pool. Mebbe you boys won't need more'n half an +eye to locate the winner when I'm done.' Wi' that she peels her waist +off'n her, an' I do allow she wus a fine chunk. An' the 'Dyke Hole' +daisy, she wa'n't no slouch; guess she wus jest bustin' wi' fight. But +Brown sticks his taller-fat nose in an' shoots his bazzoo an'---- + +"An' that's most as fer as I got when along comes that all-fired +'dead-eyes' an' points warnin' at me while he ogled me with them gummy +red rims o' his. An', sez he, 'You light right out o' here sharp, +Arizona; the place fer you scum's down in the bunkhouse. An' I'm not +goin' to have any skulkin' up here, telling disreputable yarns to my +gal.' I wus jest beginnin' to argyfy. 'But,' sez I. An' he cut me +short wi' a curse. 'Out of here!' he roared. 'I give you ten minutes +to git!' Then she, Miss Dianny, bless her, she turned on him quick, +an' dressed him down han'some. Sez she, 'Father, how can you be so +unkind after what Arizona has done for you? Remember,' sez she, 'he +saved you a hundred head of cattle, and fought Red Mask's gang until +help came and he fell from his horse.' Oh, she was a dandy, and heaped +it on like bankin' a furnace. She cried lots an' lots, but it didn't +signify. Out I wus to git, an' out I got. An' now I'll gamble that +swine Jake'll try and set me to work. But I'll level him--sure." + +One of the men, Lew Cawley, laughed silently, and then put in a +remark. Lew was a large specimen of the fraternity, and history said +that he was the son of an English cleric. But history says similar +things of many ne'er-do-wells in the Northwest. He still used the +accent of his forebears. + +"Old blind-hunks knows something. With all respect, Arizona has +winning ways; but," he added, before the fiery Southerner could +retort, "if I mistake not, here comes Jake to fulfil Arizona's +prophecy." + +Every one swung round as Lew nodded in the direction of the house. A +huge man of about six feet five was striding rapidly down the slope. +Tresler, who had been listening to the story on the outskirts of the +group, eyed the newcomer with wonder. He came at a gait in which every +movement displayed a vast, monumental strength. He had never seen such +physique in his life. The foreman was still some distance off, and he +could not see his face, only a great spread of black beard and +whisker. So this was the much-cursed Jake Harnach, and, he thought +without any particular pleasure, his future boss. + +There was no further talk. Jake Harnach looked up and halted. Then he +signaled, and a great shout came to the waiting group. + +"Hi! hi! you there! You with the pants!" + +A snigger went round the gathering, and Tresler knew that it was he +who was being summoned. He turned away to hide his annoyance, but was +given no chance of escape. + +"Say, send that guy with the pants along!" roared the foreman. And +Tresler was forced into unwilling compliance. + +And thus the two men, chiefly responsible for the telling of this +story of Mosquito Bend, met. The spirit of the meeting was +antagonistic; a spirit which, in the days to come, was to develop into +a merciless hatred. Nor was the reason far to seek, nor could it have +been otherwise. Jake looked out upon the world through eyes that +distorted everything to suit his own brutal nature, while Tresler's +simple manliness was the result of his youthful training as a public +schoolboy. + +The latter saw before him a man of perhaps thirty-five, a man of +gigantic stature, with a face handsome in its form of features, but +disfigured by the harsh depression of the black brows over a pair of +hard, bold eyes. The lower half of his face was buried beneath a beard +so dense and black as to utterly disguise the mould of his mouth and +chin, thus leaving only the harsh tones of his voice as a clue to what +lay hidden there. + +His dress was unremarkable but typical--moleskin trousers, a thin +cotton shirt, a gray tweed jacket, and a silk handkerchief about his +neck. He carried nothing in the shape of weapons, not even the usual +leather belt and sheath-knife. And in this he was apart from the +method of his country, where the use of firearms was the practice in +disputes. + +On his part, Jake looked upon a well-built man five inches his +inferior in stature, but a man of good proportions, with a pair of +shoulders that suggested possibilities. But it was the steady look in +the steel-blue eyes which told him most. There was a simple directness +in them which told of a man unaccustomed to any browbeating; and, as +he gazed into them, he made a mental note that this newcomer must be +reduced to a proper humility at the earliest opportunity. + +There was no pretense of courtesy between them. Neither offered to +shake hands. Jake blurted out his greeting in a vicious tone. + +"Say, didn't you hear me callin'?" he asked sharply. + +"I did." And the New Englander looked quietly into the eyes before +him, but without the least touch of bravado or of yielding. + +"Then why in h---- didn't you come?" + +"I was not to know you were calling me." + +"Not to know?" retorted the other roughly. "I guess there aren't two +guys with pants like yours around the ranch. Now, see right here, +young feller, you'll just get a grip on the fact that I'm foreman of +this layout, and, as far as the 'hands' are concerned, I'm boss. When +I call, you come--and quick." + +The man towered over Tresler in a bristling attitude. His hands were +aggressively thrust into his jacket pockets, and he emphasized his +final words with a scowl. And it was his attitude that roused Tresler; +the words were the words of an overweening bully, and might have been +laughed at, but the attitude said more, and no man likes to be +browbeaten. His anger leapt, and, though he held himself tightly, it +found expression in the biting emphasis of his reply. + +"When I'm one of the 'hands,' yes," he said incisively. + +Jake stared. Then a curious sort of smile flitted across his features. + +"Hah!" he ejaculated. + +And Tresler went on with cold indifference. "And, in the meantime, I +may as well say that the primary object of my visit is to see Mr. +Marbolt, not his foreman. That, I believe," he added, pointing to the +building on the hill, "is his house." + +Without waiting for a reply he stepped aside, and would have moved on. +But Jake had swung round, and his hand fell heavily upon his shoulder. + +"No, you don't, my dandy cock!" he cried violently, his fingers +painfully gripping the muscle under the Norfolk jacket. + +Springing aside, and with one lithe twist, in a flash Tresler had +released himself, and stood confronting the giant with blazing eyes +and tense drawn muscles. + +"Lay a hand on me again, and there'll be trouble," he said sharply, +and there was an oddly furious burr in his speech. + +The foreman stood for a moment as words failed him. Then his fury +broke loose. + +"I told you jest now," he cried, falling back into the twang of the +country as his rage mastered him, "that I run this layout----" + +"And I tell you," broke in the equally angry Tresler, "that I've +nothing to do with you or the ranch either until I have seen your +master. And I'll have you know that if there's any bulldozing to be +done, you can keep it until I am one of the 'hands.' You shan't lack +opportunity." + +The tone was as scathing as the violence of his anger would permit. He +had not moved, except to thrust his right hand into his jacket pocket, +while he measured the foreman with his eyes and watched his every +movement. + +He saw Harnach hunch himself as though to spring at him. He saw the +great hands clench at his sides and his arms draw up convulsively. He +saw the working face and the black eyes as they half closed and +reduced themselves to mere slits beneath the overshadowing brows. Then +the hoarse, rage-choked voice came. + +"By G----! I'll smash you, you----" + +"I shouldn't say it." Tresler's tone had suddenly changed to one of +icy coldness. The flash of a white dress had caught his eye. "There's +a lady present," he added abruptly. And at the same time he released +his hold on the smooth butt of a heavy revolver he had been gripping +in his pocket. + +What might have happened but for the timely interruption it would be +impossible to say. Jake's arms dropped to his sides, and his attitude +relaxed with a suddenness that was almost ludicrous. The white dress +fluttered toward him, and Tresler turned and raised his prairie hat. +He gave the foreman no heed whatever. The man might never have been +there. He took a step forward. + +"Miss Marbolt, I believe," he said. "Forgive me, but it seems that, +being a stranger, I must introduce myself. I am John Tresler. I have +just been performing the same ceremony for your father's foreman's +benefit. Can I see Mr. Marbolt?" + +He was looking down into what he thought at the moment was the +sweetest, saddest little face he had ever seen. It was dark with +sunburn, in contrast with the prim white drill dress the girl wore, +and her cheeks were tinged with a healthy color which might have been +a reflection of the rosy tint of the ribbon about her neck. But it was +the quiet, dark brown eyes, half wistful and wholly sad, and the +slight droop at the corners of the pretty mouth, that gave him his +first striking impression. She was a delightful picture, but one of +great melancholy, quite out of keeping with her youth and fresh +beauty. + +She looked up at him from under the brim of a wide straw sun-hat, +trimmed with a plain silk handkerchief, and pinned to her wealth of +curling brown hair so as to give her face the utmost shade. Then she +frankly held out her hand in welcome to him, whilst her eyes +questioned his, for she had witnessed the scene between the two men +and overheard their words. But Tresler listened to her greeting with a +disarming smile on his face. + +"Welcome, Mr. Tresler," she said gravely. "We have been expecting you. +But I'm afraid you can't see father just now. He's sleeping. He always +sleeps in the afternoon. You see, daylight or night, it makes no +difference to him. He's blind. He has drifted into a curious habit of +sleeping in the day as well as at night. Possibly it is a blessing, +and helps him to forget his affliction. I am always careful, in +consequence, not to waken him. But come along up to the house; you +must have some lunch, and, later, a cup of tea." + +"You are awfully kind." + +Tresler watched a troubled look that crept into the calm expression of +her eyes. Then he looked on while she turned and dismissed the +discomfited foreman. + +"I shan't ride this afternoon, Jake," she said coldly. "You might have +Bessie shod for me instead. Her hoofs are getting very long." Then she +turned again to her guest. "Come, Mr. Tresler." + +And the New Englander readily complied. + +Nor did he even glance again in the direction of the foreman. + +Jake cursed, not audibly, but with such hateful intensity that even +the mat of beard and moustache parted, and the cruel mouth and +clenched teeth beneath were revealed. His eyes, too, shone with a +diabolical light. For the moment Tresler was master of the situation, +but, as Jake had said, he was "boss" of that ranch. "Boss" with him +did not mean "owner." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE BLIND MAN + + +Tresler was unfeignedly glad to leave Jake Harnach behind him, but he +looked very serious as he and his companion moved on to the house. The +result of his meeting with the foreman would come back on him later, +he knew, and it was as well that he was prepared. The meeting had been +unfortunate, but, judging by what he had heard of Jake in Forks, he +must inevitably have crossed the bully sooner or later; Jake himself +would have seen to that. + +Diane Marbolt paused as she came to the verandah. They had not spoken +since their greeting. Now she turned abruptly, and quietly surveyed +her guest. Nor was there any rudeness in her look. Tresler felt that +he was undergoing a silent cross-examination, and waited, quietly +smiling down at her from his superior height. + +At last she smiled up at him and nodded. + +"Will I do?" he asked. + +"I think so." + +It was a curious position, and they both laughed. But in the girl's +manner there was no levity. + +"You are not sure? Is there anything wrong about me? My--my dress, for +instance?" Tresler laughed again; he had missed the true significance +of his companion's attitude toward him. + +Just for a moment the dark little face took on a look of perplexity. +Then the pucker of the brows smoothed out, and she smiled demurely as +she answered. + +"Oh, I see--no," doubtfully. Then more decidedly, "No. You see, you +are a 'tenderfoot.' You'll get over it later on." + +And the last barrier of formality was set aside. + +"Good," exclaimed Tresler, emphatically. "We are going to be friends, +Miss Marbolt. I knew it. It was only that I feared that 'they' might +ruin my chances of your approbation. You see, they've already caused +me--er--trouble." + +"Yes, I think we shall be friends," Diane answered quietly. "In the +meantime, come along into the house and have your lunch. It is ready, +I saw you coming and so prepared it at once. You will not mind if I +sit and look on while you eat. I have had mine. I want to talk to you +before you see my father." + +There was distinct anxiety in her manner. More surely than all, her +eyes betrayed her uneasiness. However, he gave no sign, contenting +himself with a cordial reply. + +"You are very kind. I too should like a chat. You see, I am a +'tenderfoot,' and you have been kind enough to pass over my +shortcomings." + +Diane led the way into the house. And Tresler, following her, was +struck with the simple comfort of this home in the wilds. It was a +roomy two-storied house, unpretentious, but very capacious. They +entered through one of three French windows what was evidently a +useful sort of drawing-room-parlor. Beyond this they crossed a +hallway, the entrance door of which stood open, and passed into a +dining-room, which, in its turn, opened directly into a kitchen +beyond. This room looked out on the woods at the back. Diane explained +that her father's sanctum was in front of this, while behind the +parlor was his bedroom, opposite the dining-room and kitchen. The +rooms up-stairs were bedrooms, and her own private parlor. + +"You see, we keep no female servants, Mr. Tresler," the girl said, as +she brought a pot of steaming coffee from the kitchen and set it on +the table. "I am housekeeper. Joe Nelson, the choreman, is my helper +and does all the heavy work. He's quite a character." + +"Yes, I know. I've met him," observed Tresler, dryly. + +"Ah! Try that ham. I don't know about the cold pie, it may be tough. +Yes, old Joe is an Englishman; at least, he was, but he's quite +Americanized now. He spent forty years in Texas. He's really an +educated man. Owned a nice ranch and got burned out. I'm very fond of +him; but it isn't of Joe I want to talk." + +"No." + +The man helped himself to the ham and veal pie, and found it anything +but tough. + +Diane seated herself in a chair with her back to the uncurtained +window, through which the early summer sun was staring. + +"You have met Jake Harnach and made an enemy of him," she said +suddenly, and with simple directness. + +"Yes; the latter must have come anyway." + +The girl sighed, and her eyes shone with a brooding light. And +Tresler, glancing at her, recognized the sadness of expression he had +noticed at their first meeting, and which, he was soon to learn, was +habitual to her. + +"I suppose so," she murmured in response. Then she roused herself, and +spoke almost sharply. "What would you have done had he struck you? He +is a man of colossal strength." + +Tresler laughed easily. "That depends. I'm not quite sure. I should +probably have done my best to retaliate. I had an alternative. I might +have shot him." + +"Oh!" the girl said with impulsive horror. + +"Well, what would you have?" Tresler raised his eyebrows and turned +his astonished eyes upon her. "Was I to stand lamb-like and accept a +thrashing from that unconscionable ruffian? No, no," he shook his +head. "I see it in your eyes. You condemn the method, but not the man. +Remember, we all have a right to live--if we can. Maybe there's no +absolute necessity that we should, but still we are permitted to do +our best. That's the philosophy I've had hammered into me with the +various thrashings the school bullies at home have from time to time +administered. I should certainly have done my best." + +"And if you had done either of these things, I shudder to think what +would have happened. It was unfortunate, terribly unfortunate. You do +not know Jake Harnach. Oh, Mr. Tresler," the girl hurried on, leaning +suddenly forward in her chair, and reaching out until her small brown +hand rested on his arm, "please, please promise me that you won't run +foul of Jake. He is terrible. You don't, you can't know him, or you +would understand your danger." + +"On the contrary, Miss Marbolt. It is because I know a great deal of +him that I should be ready to retaliate very forcibly. I thank my +stars I do know him. Had I not known of him before, your own words +would have warned me to be ready for all emergencies. Jake must go his +way and I'll go mine. I am here to learn ranching, not to submit to +any bulldozing. But let us forget Jake for the moment, and talk of +something more pleasant. What a charming situation the ranch has!" + +The girl dropped back in her chair. There was no mistaking the +decision of her visitor's words. She felt that no persuasion of hers +could alter him. With an effort she contrived to answer him. + +"Yes, it is a beautiful spot. You have not yet had time to appreciate +the perfections of our surroundings." She paused for him to speak, but +as he remained silent she labored on with her thoughts set on other +things. "The foot-hills come right down almost to our very doors. And +then in the distance, above them, are the white caps of the mountains. +We are sheltered, as no doubt you have seen, by the almost +inaccessible wall beyond the river, and the pinewoods screen us from +the northeast and north winds of winter. South and east are miles and +miles of prairie-lands. Father has been here for eighteen years. I was +a child of four when we came. Whitewater was a mere settlement then, +and Forks wasn't even in existence. We hadn't a neighbor nearer than +Whitewater in those days, except the Indians and half-breeds. They +were rough times, and father held his place only by the subtlety of +his poor blind brain, and the arms of the men he had with him. Jake +has been with us as long as I can remember. So you see," she added, +returning to her womanly dread for his safety, "I know Jake. My +warning is not the idle fear of a silly girl." + +Tresler remained silent for a moment or two. Then he asked sharply-- + +"Why does your father keep him?" + +The girl shrugged her shoulders. "Jake is the finest ranchman in the +country." + +And in the silence that followed Tresler helped himself to more +coffee, and finished off with cheese and crackers. Neither seemed +inclined to break up the awkwardness of the pause. For the time the +man's thoughts were wandering in interested speculation as to the +possibilities of his future on the ranch. He was not thinking so much +of Jake, nor even of Julian Marbolt. It was of the gentler +associations with the girl beside him--associations he had never +anticipated in his wildest thoughts. She was no prairie-bred girl. Her +speech, her manner, savored too much of civilization. Yes, he decided +in his mind, although she claimed Mosquito Bend as her home since she +was four, she had been educated elsewhere. His thoughts were suddenly +cut short. A faint sound caught his quick ears. Then Diane's voice, +questioning him, recalled his wandering attention. + +"I understand you intend to stay with us for three years?" + +"Just as long as it will take to learn all the business of a ranch," +he answered readily. "I am going to become one of the----" + +Again he heard the peculiar noise, and he broke off listening. Diane +was listening too. It was a soft tap, tap, like some one knocking +gently upon a curtained door. It was irregular, intermittent, like the +tapping of a telegraph-sounder working very slowly. + +"What's that?" he asked. + +The girl had risen, and a puzzled look was in her eyes. "The noise? +Oh, it's father," she said, with a shadowy smile, and in a lowered +tone. "Something must have disturbed him. It is unusual for him to be +awake so early." + +Now they heard a door open, and the tapping ceased. Then the door +closed and the lock turned. A moment later there came the jingle of +keys, and then shuffling footsteps accompanied the renewed tapping. + +Tresler was still listening. He had turned toward the door, and while +his attention was fixed on the coming of the blind rancher, he was yet +aware that Diane was clearing the table with what seemed to him +unnecessary haste and noise. However, his momentary interest was +centred upon the doorway and the passage outside, and he paid little +heed to the girl's movements. The door stood open, and as he looked +out the sound of shuffling feet drew nearer; then a figure passed the +opening. + +It was gone in a moment. But in that moment he caught sight of a tall +man wrapped in the gray folds of a dressing-gown that reached to his +feet. That, and the sharp outline of a massive head of close-cropped +gray hair. The face was lost, all except the profile. He saw a long, +high-bridged nose and a short, crisp grayish beard. The tapping of the +stick died slowly away. And he knew that the blind man had passed out +on to the verandah. + +Now he turned again to the girl, and would have spoken, but she raised +a warning finger and shook her head. Then, moving toward the door, she +beckoned to him to follow. + + * * * * * + +"Father, this is Mr. Tresler." + +Tresler found himself looking down upon a remarkable face. He +acknowledged Diane's introduction, forgetful, for the moment, of the +man's sightless eyes. He gripped the outstretched hand heartily, while +he took in his first impression of a strange personality. + +They were out on the verandah. The rancher was sitting in a prim, +uncushioned armchair. He had a strong, well-moulded, pale face, the +sightless eyes of which held the attention. Tresler at once +appreciated Shaky's description of them. + +They were dreadful eyes. The pupils were there, and, in a measure, +appeared natural except for their enormous size. They were black, jet +black, and divided from what should have been the whites by minute +rings of blue, the only suspicion of iris they possessed. But it was +the whites that gave them their dreadful expression. They were scarlet +with inflammation--an inflammation which extended to the rims of the +lids and had eaten away the lashes. Of the rest of the face it was +impossible for him to form much of an opinion. The iron-gray brows +were depressed as though with physical pain, and so obliterated all +natural expression. And the beard shut out the indications which the +mouth and chin might have afforded. + +"You're welcome, Mr. Tresler," he said, in a low, gentle tone. "I knew +you were here some time ago." + +Tresler was astonished at the quiet refinement of his voice. He had +grown so accustomed to the high, raucous twang of the men of these +wilds that it came as a surprise to him. + +"I hope I didn't disturb you," he answered cheerily. "Miss Marbolt +told me you were sleeping, and----" + +"You didn't disturb me--at least, not in the way you mean. You see, +I have developed a strange sensitiveness--a sort of second sight," +he laughed a little bitterly. "I awoke by instinct the moment you +approached the house, and heard you come in. The loss of one sense, +you see, has made others more acute. Well, well, so you have +come to learn ranching? Diane"--the blind man turned to his +daughter--"describe Mr. Tresler to me. What does he look like? Forgive +me, my dear sir," he went on, turning with unerring instinct to the +other. "I glean a perfect knowledge of those about me in this way." + +"Certainly." The object of the blind man's interest smiled over at the +girl. + +Diane hesitated in some confusion. + +"Go on, child," her father said, with a touch of impatience in his +manner. + +Thus urged she began. "Mr. Tresler is tall. Six feet. +Broad-shouldered." + +The man's red, staring eyes were bent on his pupil with a steady +persistency. + +"Yes, yes," he urged, as the girl paused. + +"Dressed in--er fashionable riding costume." + +"His face?" + +"Black hair, steel-blue eyes, black eyelashes and brows. Broad +forehead----" + +"Any lines?" questioned the blind man. + +"Only two strong marks between the brows." + +"Go on." + +"Broad-bridged, rather large nose; well-shaped mouth, with inclination +to droop at the corners; broad, split chin; well-rounded cheeks and +jaw." + +"Ha! clean-shaven, of course--yes." + +The rancher sat silent for some moments after Diane had finished her +description. His lips moved, as though he were talking to himself; but +no words came to those waiting. At last he stirred, and roused from +his reverie. + +"You come from Springfield, Mr. Tresler, I understand?" he said +pleasantly. + +"Yes." + +"Um. New England. A good country that breeds good men," he nodded, +with an expression that was almost a smile. "I'm glad to be able to +welcome you; I only wish I could see. However," he went on kindly, +"you will be able to learn ranching in all its branches here. We breed +horses and cattle. You'll find it rough. My foreman is not exactly +gentle, but, believe me, he knows his business. He is the finest +ranchman in the country, and I owe much of my success to him. You must +get on the right side of Jake, though. It requires finding--the right +side, I mean--but it is worth seeking." + +Tresler smiled as he listened. He thoroughly agreed with the reference +to the difficulty of finding Jake's "right" side. He endeavored to +catch Diane's eye, but she avoided his gaze. As the rancher paused, he +broke in at once. + +"I presume I start work in earnest to-morrow morning?" + +The blind man shook his head. "No; better start in to-day. Our +agreement reads to-day; it must not be broken. You take your position +as one of the hands, and will be under the control of Jake Harnach." + +"We can have tea first, though," put in Diane, who had followed her +father's words with what seemed unnecessary closeness. + +"Tut, tut, child," he replied impatiently. "Yes, we will have tea. +'Tis all you think of. See to it, and bring Tresler a chair; I must +talk to him." + +His words were a dismissal; and after Diane had provided a chair, she +retired into the house, leaving apprentice and master alone. And the +two men talked, as men will talk who have just come together from the +ends of the world. Tresler avoided the details of his journey; nor +did the blind man seem in any way interested in his personal affairs. +It was the news of men, and matters concerning the world, that they +discussed. And the rancher's information and remarks, and keen, +incisive questions, set the newcomer wondering. He watched the face +before him, the red, sightless eyes. He studied the quiet, +gentle-voiced man, as one may study an abstruse problem. The result +was disheartening. One long, weary expression of pain was all he +beheld; no lights and shades of emotion and interest. It was the face +of one grown patient under a lifelong course of suffering. Tresler had +listened to the bitter cursings against this man, but as the soft +voice and cultured expressions fell upon his ears, the easy-flowing, +pointed criticisms on matters of public interest, the broad +philosophy, sometimes faintly dashed with bitterness and cynicism, but +always sound, he found it hard to associate him with the significant +sobriquet of the ranch. Tea-time found him still wrestling with the +unsolved problem. But, with the advent of Diane with the table and +laden tray, he set it aside for future study. + +For the next half-hour he transferred his attention to the relations +between father and daughter, as they chatted pleasantly of the +ranching prospects of the country, for the benefit of their visitor. +This was a lesser problem, and one he came near to achieving. Before +he left them, he resolved that Diane stood in great awe, not to say +fear, of her father. This to him was astonishing, judging by the +strength of character every feature in her face displayed. It seemed +to him that she was striving hard to bestow affection on him--trying +to create an affection that had no place in her heart. Her efforts +were painfully apparent. She convinced him at once of a lively sense +of duty--a sense she was carrying to a point that was almost pitiful. +All this he felt sure of, but it was the man who finally baffled him +as he had baffled him before. How he regarded Diane it was impossible +to say. Sometimes he could have sworn that the man's devotion to her +was that of one who, helpless, clings to a support which never fails +him; at others, he treated her to a sneering intolerance, which roused +the young man's ire; and, again, he would change his tone, till the +undercurrent of absolute hatred drowned the studied courtesy which +veneered it. And when he finally rose to leave the verandah and seek +out the foreman and report himself for duty, it was with a genuine +feeling of relief at leaving the presence of those dreadful red eyes. + +Diane was packing up the tea-things, and Tresler still lingered on the +verandah; he was watching the blind man as he tapped his way into the +house. Then, as he disappeared, and the sound of his shuffling feet +grew faint and distant, he became aware that Diane was standing +holding the tray and watching him. He knew, too, by her attentive +attitude, that she was listening to ascertain when her father should +be out of ear-shot. As the sounds died away, and all became silent +within the house, she came over to him. She spoke without pausing on +her way; it seemed that she feared observation. + +"Don't forget, Mr. Tresler, what I told you about Jake. Be warned. In +spite of what you say, you do not know him." + +"Thanks, Miss Marbolt," he replied warmly; "I shall not forget." + +Diane was about to speak again, but the voice of her father, harsh and +strident enough now, reached them from the hallway. + +"Come in, child, and let Tresler go to his work." + +And Tresler noted the expression of fear that leapt into the girl's +face as she hurriedly passed into the house. He stood for a moment +wrathful and wondering; then he strode away toward the corrals, +reflecting on the strange events which had so swiftly followed one +upon the other. + +"Ye gods," he muttered, "this is a queer place--and these are queer +people." + +Then as he saw the great figure of Jake coming up the hill toward him, +from the direction of a small isolated hut, he went out to meet him, +unconsciously squaring himself as he drew near. + +He expected an explosion; at least an angry demonstration. But nothing +of the sort happened. The whole attitude of the man had changed to one +of studied amiability. Not only that, but his diction was careful to a +degree, as though he were endeavoring to impress this man from the +East with his superiority over the other ranchmen. + +"Well? You have seen him?" + +"Yes. I have now come to report myself ready for work," Tresler +replied at once. He adopted a cold business tone, deeming it best to +observe this from the start. + +To his surprise Jake became almost cordial. "Good. We can do with some +hands, sure. Had a pleasant talk with the old man?" The question came +indifferently, but a sidelong glance accompanied it as the foreman +turned away and gazed out over the distant prairie. + +"I have," replied Tresler, shortly. "What are my orders, and where do +I sleep?" + +"Then you don't sleep up at the house?" Jake inquired, pretending +surprise. There was a slight acidity in his tone. + +"That is hardly to be expected when the foreman sleeps down there." +Tresler nodded, indicating the outbuildings. + +"That's so," observed the other, thoughtfully. "No, I guess the old +man don't fancy folk o' your kidney around," he went on, relapsing +into the speech of the bunkhouse unguardedly. "Mebbe it's different +wi' the other." + +Tresler could have struck him as he beheld the meaning smile that +accompanied the fellow's words. + +"Where do I sleep?" he demanded sharply. + +"Oh, I guess you'll roll into the bunkhouse. Likely the boys'll fix +you for blankets till your truck comes along. As for orders, why, we +start work at sunup, and Slushy dips out breakfast before that. Guess +I'll put you to work in the morning; you can't do a deal yet, but +maybe you'll learn." + +"Then I'm not wanted to-night?" + +"Guess not." Jake broke off. Then he turned sharply and faced his man. +"I've just one word to say to you 'fore you start in," he went on. "We +kind o' make allowance fer 'tenderfeet' around here--once. After that, +we deal accordin'--savee? Say, ther' ain't no tea-parties customary +around this layout." + +Tresler smiled. If he had been killed for it he must have smiled. In +that last remark the worthy Jake had shown his hand. And the latter +saw the smile, and his face darkened with swift-rising anger. But he +had evidently made up his mind not to be drawn, for, with a curt +"S'long," he abruptly strode off, leaving the other to make his way to +the bunkhouse. + +The men had not yet come in for their evening meal, but he found +Arizona disconsolately sitting on a roll of blankets just outside the +door of the quarters. He was chewing steadily, with his face turned +prairieward, gazing out over the tawny plains as though nothing else +in the world mattered to him. + +He looked up casually as Tresler came along, and edged along the +blankets to make room, contenting himself with a laconic-- + +"Set." + +The two men sat in silence for some moments. The pale-faced cowpuncher +seemed absorbed in deep reflection. Tresler was thinking too; he was +thinking of Jake, whom he clearly understood was in love with his +employer's daughter. It was patent to the veriest simpleton. Not only +that, but he felt that Diane herself knew it. The way the foreman had +desisted from his murderous onslaught upon himself at her coming was +sufficient evidence without the jealousy he had betrayed in his +reference to tea-parties. Now he understood, too, that it was because +the blind man was asleep, and in going up to the house he, Tresler, +would only meet Diane, and probably spend a pleasant afternoon with +her until her father awoke, that Jake's unreasoning jealousy had been +aroused, and he had endeavored to forcibly detain him. He felt glad +that he had learned these things so soon. All such details would be +useful. + +At last Arizona turned from his impassive contemplation of the +prairie. + +"Wal?" he questioned. And he conveyed a world of interrogation in his +monosyllable. + +"Jake says I begin work to-morrow. To-night I sleep in the bunkhouse." + +"Yes, I know." + +"You know?" Tresler looked around in astonishment. + +"Guess Jake's bin 'long. Say, I'll shoot that feller, sure--'less some +interferin' cuss gits along an' does him in fust." + +"What's up? Anything fresh?" + +For answer Arizona spat forcibly into the little pool of tobacco-juice +on the ground before him. Then, with a vicious clenching of the +teeth-- + +"He's a swine." + +"Which is a libel on hogs," observed the other, with a smile. + +"Libel?" cried Arizona, his wild eyes rolling, and his lean nostrils +dilating as his breath came short and quick. "Yes, grin; grin like a +blazin' six-foot ape. Mebbe y'll change that grin later, when I tell +you what he's done." + +"Nothing he could do would surprise me after having met him." + +"No." Arizona had calmed again. His volcanic nature was a study. +Tresler, although he had only just met this man, liked him for his +very wildness. "Say, pardner," he went on quietly, reaching one long, +lean hand toward him, "shake! I guess I owe you gratitood fer bluffin' +that hog. We see it all. Say, you've got grit." And the fierce eyes +looked into the other's face. + +Tresler shook the proffered hand heartily. "But what's his latest +achievement?" he asked, eager to learn the fresh development. + +"He come along here 'bout you. Sed we wus to fix you up in pore Dave +Steele's bunk." + +"Yes? That's good. I rather expected he'd have me sleep on the floor." + +Arizona gave a snort. His anger was rising again, but he checked it. + +"Say," he went on, "guess you don't know a heap. Ther' ain't bin a +feller slep in that bunk since Dave--went away." + +"Why?" Tresler's interest was agog. + +"Why?" Arizona's voice rose. "'Cos it's mussed all up wi' a crazy +man's blood. A crazy man as wus killed right here, kind of, by Jake +Harnach." + +"I heard something of it." + +"Heerd suthin' of it? Wal, I guess ther' ain't a feller around this +prairie as ain't yelled hisself hoarse 'bout Dave. Say, he wus the +harmlessest lad as ever jerked a rope or slung a leg over a stock +saddle. An' as slick a hand as ther' ever wus around this ranch. I +tell ye he could teach every one of us, he wus that handy; an' that's +a long trail, I 'lows. Wal, we wus runnin' in a bunch of outlaws fer +brandin', an' he wus makin' to rope an old bull. Howsum he got him +kind o' awkward. The rope took the feller's horns. 'Fore Dave could +loose it that bull got mad, an' went squar' for the corral walls an' +broke a couple o' the bars. Dave jumped fer it an' got clear. Then +Jake comes hollerin' an' swearin' like a stuck hog, an' Dave he took +it bad. Y' see no one could handle an outlaw like Dave. He up an' let +fly at Jake, an' cussed back. Wot does Jake do but grab up a brandin' +iron an' lay it over the boy's head. Dave jest dropped plumb in his +tracks. Then we got around and hunched him up, an' laid him out in his +bunk, bleedin' awful. We plastered him, an' doctored him, an' after a +whiles he come to. He lay on his back fer a month, an' never a sign o' +Jake or the blind man come along, only Miss Dianny. She come, an' we +did our best. But arter a month he got up plump crazed an' silly-like. +He died back ther' in Forks soon after." Arizona paused significantly. +Then he went on. "No, sir, ther' ain't bin a feller put in that bunk +sense, fer they ain't never gotten pore Dave's blood off'n it. Say, +ther' ain't a deal as 'ud scare us fellers, but we ain't sleepin' over +a crazy man's blood." + +"Which, apparently, I've got to do," Tresler said sharply. Then he +asked, "Is it the only spare bunk?" + +"No. Ther's Thompson's, an' ther's Massy's." + +"Then what's the object?" + +"Cussedness. It's a kind o' delicate attention. It's fer to git back +on you, knowin' as us fellers 'ud sure tell you of Dave. It's to kind +o' hint to you what happens to them as runs foul o' him. What's like +to happen to you." + +Arizona's fists clenched, and his teeth gritted with rage as he +deduced his facts. Tresler remained calm, but it did him good to +listen to the hot-headed cowpuncher, and he warmed toward him. + +"I'm afraid I must disappoint him," he said, when the other had +finished. "If you fellows will lend me some blankets, I'll sleep in +Massy's or Thompson's bunk, and Mr. Jake can go hang." + +Arizona shot round and peered into Tresler's face. "An' you'll do +that--sure?" + +"Certainly. I'm not going to sleep in a filthy bunk." + +"Say, you're the most cur'usest 'tenderfoot' I've seen. Shake!" + +And again the two men gripped hands. + +That first evening around the bunkhouse Tresler learned a lot about +his new home, and, incidentally, the most artistic manner of cursing +the flies. He had supper with the boys, and his food was hash and tea +and dry bread. It was hard but wholesome, and there was plenty of it. +His new comrades exercised their yarning propensities for him, around +him, at him. He listened to their chaff, boisterous, uncultured; +their savage throes of passion and easy comradeships. They seemed to +have never a care in the world but the annoyances of the moment. Even +their hatred for the foreman and their employer seemed to lift from +them, and vanish with the sound of the curses which they heaped upon +them. It was a new life, a new world to him; and a life that appealed +to him. + +As the sun sank and the twilight waned, the men gradually slipped away +to turn in. Arizona was the last to go. Tresler had been shown Massy's +bunk, and friendly hands had spread blankets upon it for him. He was +standing at the foot of it in the long aisle between the double row of +trestle beds. Arizona had just pointed out the dead man's disused +couch, all covered with gunny sacks. + +"That's Dave's," he said. "I kind o' think you'll sleep easier right +here. Say, Tresler," he went on, with a serious light in his eyes, +"I'd jest like to say one thing to you, bein' an old hand round these +parts myself, an' that's this. When you git kind o' worried, use your +gun. Et's easy an' quick. Guess you've plenty o' time an' to spare +after fer sizin' things up. Ther' ain't a man big 'nough in this world +to lift a finger ef you sez 'no' and has got your gun pointin' right. +S'long." + +But Tresler detained him. "Just one moment, Arizona," he said, +imitating the other's impressive manner. "I'd just like to say one +thing to you, being a new hand around these parts myself, and that's +this. You being about my size, I wonder if you could sell me a pair +of pants, such as you fellows ordinarily wear?" + +The cowpuncher smiled a pallid, shadowy smile, and went over to his +kit-bag. He returned a moment later with a pair of new moleskin +trousers and threw them on the bunk. + +"You ken have them, I guess. Kind o' remembrancer fer talkin' straight +to Jake. Say, that did me a power o' good." + +"Thanks, but I'll pay----" + +"Not on your life, mister." + +"Then I'll remember your advice." + +"Good. S'long." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE NIGHT-RIDERS + + +Tresler had not the smallest inclination for sleep. He was tired +enough physically, but his brain was still much too active. Besides, +the bunkhouse was uninviting to him as yet. The two lines of +trestle-beds, with their unkempt occupants, were suggestive of--well, +anything but congenial sleeping companions. The atmosphere was close +and stuffy, and the yellow glimmer of the two oil-lamps, one stationed +at each end of the room, gave the place a distasteful suggestion of +squalor. + +He was not unduly squeamish--far from it; but, be it remembered, he +had only just left a world of ease and luxury, where snow-white linen +and tasteful surroundings were necessary adjuncts to existence. +Therefore these things came to him in the nature of a shock. + +He looked at his blankets spread over the straw palliasse that +disguised the loose bed-boards underneath, and this drew his attention +to the mattress itself. It was well-worn and dusty, and as he moved it +he felt that the straw inside was crushed to the smallest chaff. He +laid it back carefully so as not to disturb the dust, and rearranged +the blankets over it. Then he sat on the foot of it and pondered. + +He gazed about him at the other beds. Some of the men were already +sleeping, announcing the fact more or less loudly. Others were swathed +in their blankets smoking in solemn silence. One was deep in the +blood-curdling pages of a dime novel, straining his eyes in the fitful +light of the lamps. The scene had novelty for him, but it was not +altogether enthralling, so he filled his pipe and lit it, and passed +out into the fresh night air. It was only ten o'clock, and he felt +that a smoke and a comfortable think would be pleasant before facing +the charms of his dusty couch. + +The moon had not yet risen, but the starry sheen of the sky dimly +outlined everything. He was gazing upon the peaceful scene of a ranch +when night has spread her soft, velvety wings. There were few sounds +to distract his thoughts. The air still hummed with the busy insect +life; one of the prowling ranch dogs occasionally gave tongue, its +fiercely suspicious temper no doubt aroused by some vague shadow which +surely no other eyes than his could possibly have detected in the +darkness; sometimes the distressful plaint of a hungry coyote, hunting +for what it never seems to find--for he is always prowling and +hunting--would rouse the echoes and startle the "tenderfoot" with the +suddenness and nearness of its uncanny call. But for the rest all was +still. And he paced to and fro before the bunkhouse, thinking. + +And, strangely enough, of all the scenes he had witnessed that day, +and of all the people he had met, it was the scene in which Diane +Marbolt had taken part, and of her he mostly thought. Perhaps it was +the unexpectedness of meeting a girl so charming that held him +interested. Perhaps it was the eager desire she had displayed in +warning him of his personal danger. Perhaps, even, it was the +recollection of the soft, brown eyes, the charming little sun-tanned +face that had first looked up at him from beneath the broad-brimmed +straw hat. Certain it was her sad face haunted him as no woman's face +had ever haunted him before as he looked out on the vast, dark world +about him. He felt that he would like to know something of her story; +not out of idle curiosity, but that he might discover some means of +banishing the look of sadness so out of place upon her beautiful +features. + +His pipe burned out, and he recharged and lit it afresh; then he +extended his peregrinations. He moved out of the deeper shadows of the +bunkhouse and turned the corner in the direction of the western group +of corrals. + +Now he saw the foreman's hut beyond the dark outline of the great +implement shed, and a light was still shining in the window. Turning +away he passed to the left of the shed, and strolled leisurely on to +the corrals. He had no desire in the world to meet Jake Harnach; not +that he thought such a contingency likely, but still there was always +the chance if the man had not yet gone to bed. He had already decided +that the less he saw of Jake the better it would be for both of them. +He remained for some minutes seated on the top of the corral fence, +but the mosquitoes were too thick, and drove him to further +wanderings. + +Just as he was about to move away, he saw the door of the foreman's +hut open, and in the light that shone behind, the small figure of the +choreman, Joe Nelson, come out. Then the light was shut out as the +great figure of Jake blocked the doorway. Now he distinctly heard them +speaking. + +"I shall want it first thing in the morning," said the foreman, in his +great hoarse voice. + +"Guess I'll see to it," replied Joe; "but 'tain't the saddle fer +anybody who ain't used to it." + +"That's o' no consequence. Your business is to have it there." + +Then Jake retired, and the door was shut. A moment later the waiting +man saw Joe emerge from the shadow and stump off in the direction of +the bunkhouse. A few yards from the foreman's hut he halted and turned +about. Then Tresler witnessed something that made him smile, while it +raised a lively feeling of satisfaction in his heart. Joe slowly +raised one arm in the direction of the hut, and, although the light +was insufficient for him to see it, and he could hear no words, he +felt sure that the fist was clenched, and a string of blasphemous +invective was desecrating the purity of the night air. A moment later +Joe passed leisurely on his way, and the light went out in Jake's +dwelling. + +And now, without concerning himself with his direction, Tresler +continued his walk. He moved toward an open shed crowded with wagons. +This he skirted, intending to avoid the foreman's hut, but just as he +moved out from the shadow, he became aware that Jake's door had opened +again and some one was coming out. He waited for a moment listening. +He fancied he recognized the foreman's heavy tread. Curiosity +prompted him to inquire further, but he checked the impulse. After +all, the bully's doings were no concern of his. So he waited until the +sound of receding footsteps had died out, and then passed round the +back of the shed and strolled on. + +There was nothing now in front of him but the dense black line of the +boundary pinewoods. These stretched away to the right and left as far +as the darkness permitted him to see. The blackness of their depths +was like a solid barrier, and he had neither time nor inclination to +explore them at that hour. Therefore he skirted away to the right, +intending to leave the forest edge before he came to the rancher's +house, and so make his way back to his quarters. + +He was approaching the house, and it loomed dark and rigid before him. +Gazing upon it, his mind at once reverted to its blind owner, and he +found himself wondering if he were in bed yet, if Diane had retired, +and in which portion of the house she slept. + +His pipe had gone out again, and he paused to relight it. He had his +matches in his hand, and was about to strike one, when suddenly a +light flashed out in front of him. It came and was gone in a second. +Yet it lasted long enough for him to realize that it came from a +window, and the window, he knew, from its position, must be the window +of Julian Marbolt's bedroom. + +He waited for it to reappear, but the house remained in darkness; and, +after a moment's deliberation, he realized its meaning. The door of +the blind man's room must be opposite the window, and probably it was +the opening of it that had revealed the lamplight in the hall. The +thought suggested the fact that the rancher had just gone to bed. + +He turned his attention again to his pipe; but he seemed destined not +to finish his smoke. Just as he had the match poised for a second +time, his ears, now painfully acute in the stillness about him, caught +the sound of horses' hoofs moving through the forest. + +They sounded quite near; he even heard the gush of the animals' +nostrils. He peered into the depths. Then, suddenly realizing the +strangeness of his own position lurking so near the house and under +cover of the forest at that hour of the night, he dropped down in the +shadow of a low bush. Nor was it any too soon, for, a moment or two +later, he beheld two horsemen moving slowly toward him out of the +black depths. They came on until they were within half a dozen yards +of him, and almost at the edge of the woods. Then they drew up and sat +gazing out over the ranch in silent contemplation. + +Tresler strained his eyes to obtain a knowledge of their appearance, +but the darkness thwarted him. He could see the vague outline of the +man nearest him, but it was so uncertain that he could make little of +it. One thing only he ascertained, and that was because the figure was +silhouetted against the starlit sky. The man seemed to have his face +covered with something that completely concealed his profile. + +The whole scene passed almost before he realized it. The horsemen had +appeared so suddenly, and were gone so swiftly, returning through the +forest the way they had come, that he was not sure but that the whole +apparition had been a mere trick of imagination. Rising swiftly, he +gazed after the vanished riders, and the crunching of the pine cones +under the horses' hoofs, dying slowly away as they retreated, warned +him that the stealthy, nocturnal visit was no illusion, but a curious +fact that needed explanation. + +Just for an instant it occurred to him that it might be two of the +hands out on night work around the cattle, then he remembered that the +full complement were even now slumbering in the bunkhouse. Puzzled and +somewhat disquieted, he turned his steps in the direction of his +quarters, fully intending to go to bed; but his adventures were not +over yet. + +As he drew near his destination he observed the figure of a man, +bearing something on his back, coming slowly toward him. A moment +later he was looking down upon the diminutive person of Joe Nelson in +the act of carrying a saddle upon his shoulder. + +"Hello, Nelson, where are you going at this hour of the night?" he +asked, as he came face to face with the little man. + +The choreman deposited the saddle on the ground, and looked his man up +and down before he answered. + +"Wher' am I goin'?" he said, as though he were thinking of other +things. "I guess I'm doin' a job in case I git fergittin' by the +mornin'. Jake reckons to want my saddle in the mornin' over at the +hoss corrals. But, say, why ain't you abed, Mr. Tresler?" + +"Never mind the 'mister,' Joe," Tresler said amiably. + +[Illustration: A moment later he beheld two horsemen] + +"If you're going to the horse corrals now I'll go with you. I'm so +beastly wide awake that I can't turn in yet." + +"Come right along, then. Guess I ain't feelin' that ways, sure." + +Joe jerked his saddle up and slung it across his back again, and the +two men walked off in silence. + +And as they walked, Joe, under cover of the darkness, eyed his +companion with occasional sidelong glances, speculating as to what he +wanted with him. He quite understood that his companion was not +walking with him for the pleasure of his company. On his part Tresler +was wondering how much he ought to tell this man--almost a +stranger--of what he had seen. He felt that some one ought to +know--some one with more experience than himself. He felt certain that +the stealthy visit of the two horsemen was not wholesome. Such +espionage pointed to something that was not quite open and aboveboard. + +They reached the corrals, and Joe deposited his burden upon the wooden +wall. Then he turned sharply on his companion. + +"Wal, out wi' it, man," he demanded. "Guess you got something you're +wantin' to git off'n your chest." + +Tresler laughed softly. "You're pretty sharp, Joe." + +"Pretty sharp, eh?" returned the little man. "Say, it don't need no +razor to cut through the meanin' of a 'tenderfoot.' Wal?" + +Tresler was looking up at the saddle. It was a small, almost skeleton +saddle, such as, at one time, was largely used in Texas; that was +before the heavier and more picturesque Mexican saddles came into +vogue among the ranchmen. + +"What does Jake want that for?" he asked. + +His question was an idle one, and merely put for the sake of gaining +time while he arrived at a definite decision upon the other matter. + +"Guess it's fer some feller to ride to-morrow--eh? Whew!" + +The choreman broke off and whistled softly. Something had just +occurred to him. He measured Tresler with his eye, and then looked at +the short-seated saddle with its high cantle and tall, abrupt horn in +front. He shook his head. + +Tresler was not heeding him. Suddenly he stopped and sat on the +ground, propping his back against the corral wall, while he looked up +at Joe. + +"Sit down," he said seriously; "I've got something rather particular I +want to talk about. At least, I think it's particular, being a +stranger to the country." + +Without replying, Joe deposited himself on the ground beside his new +acquaintance. His face was screwed up into the expression Tresler had +begun to recognize as a smile. He took a chew of tobacco and prepared +to give his best attention. + +"Git goin'," he observed easily. + +"Well, look here, have we any near neighbors?" + +"None nigher than Forks--'cep' the Breeds, an' they're nigh on six +mile south, out toward the hills. How?" + +Then Tresler told him what he had seen at the edge of the pinewoods, +and the choreman listened with careful attention. At the end of his +story Tresler added-- + +"You see, it's probably nothing. Of course, I know nothing as yet of +prairie ways and doings. No doubt it can be explained. But I argued +the matter out from my own point of view, and it struck me that two +horsemen, approaching the ranch under cover of the forest and a dark +night, and not venturing into the open after having arrived, simply +didn't want to be seen. And their not wishing to be seen meant that +their object in coming wasn't--well, just above suspicion." + +"Tol'ble reasonin'," nodded Joe, chewing his cud reflectively. + +"What do you make of it?" + +"A whole heap," Joe said, spitting emphatically. "What do I make of +it? Yes, that's it, a whole heap. Guess that feller you see most of +had his face covered. Was that cover a mask?" + +"It might have been." + +"A red mask?" + +"I couldn't see the color. It was too dark. Might have been." + +Joe turned and faced his companion, and, hunching his bent knees into +his arms, looked squarely into his eyes. + +"See here, pard, guess you never heard o' hoss thieves? They ain't +likely to mean much to you," he said, with some slight contempt. Then +he added, by way of rubbing it in, "You bein' a 'tenderfoot.' Guess +you ain't heard tell of Red Mask an' his gang, neither?" + +"Wrong twice," observed Tresler, with a quiet smile. "I've heard of +both horse thieves and Red Mask." + +"You've heard tell of hoss thieves an' Red Mask? Wal, I'm figgerin' +you've seen both to-night, anyway; an' I'll further tell you this--if +you'd got the drop on him this night an' brought him down, you'd 'a' +done what most every feller fer two hundred miles around has been +layin' to do fer years, an' you'd 'a' been the biggest pot in Montana +by sundown to-morrow." He spoke with an accent of triumph, and paused +for effect. "Say, ther' wouldn't 'a' been a feller around as wouldn't +'a' taken his hat off to you," he went on, to accentuate the +situation. "Say, it was a dandy chance. But ther', you're a +'tenderfoot,'" he added, with a sigh of profound regret. + +Tresler was inclined to laugh, but checked himself as he realized the +serious side of the matter. + +"Well, if he were here to-night, what does it portend?" he asked. + +"If he was here to-night it portends a deal," said Joe, sharply. "It +portends that the biggest 'tough,' the biggest man-killer an' hoss +thief in the country, is on the war-path, an' ther'll be trouble +around 'fore we're weeks older." + +"Who is he?" + +"Who is he? Wal, I 'lows that's a big question. Guess ther' ain't no +real sayin'. Some sez he's from across the border, some sez he's a +Breed, some sez he's the feller called Duncan, as used to run a bum +saloon in Whitewater, an' shot a man in his own bar an' skipped. No +one rightly knows, 'cep' he's real 'bad,' an' duffs nigh on to a +thousand head o' stock most every year." + +"Then what's to be done?" Tresler asked, watching the little man's +twisted face as he munched his tobacco. + +"What's to be done? Wal, I don't rightly know. Say, what wus you doin' +around that house? I ain't askin' fer cur'osity. Ye see, if you got +tellin' Jake as you wus round ther', it's likely he'd git real mad. Y' +see, Jake's dead sweet on Miss Dianny. It gives him the needle that +I'm around that house. O' course, ther' ain't nuthin' wi' me an' Miss +Dianny, 'cep' we're kind o' friendly. But Jake's that mean-sperrited +an' jealous. She hates him like pizen. I know, 'cos I'm kind o' +friendly wi' her, so to speak, meanin' nuthin', o' course. But that +ain't the point. If you wus to tell him he'd make your head swim." + +"Oh, hang Jake!" exclaimed Tresler, impatiently; "I'm sick to death of +hearing of his terrorizing. He can't eat me----" + +"No, but he'll make you wish he could," put in the choreman, quietly. + +"He'd find me a tough mouthful," Tresler laughed. + +"Mebbe. How came you around that house?" + +"I simply wandered there by chance. I was smoking and taking a stroll. +I'd been all round the ranch." + +"That wouldn't suit Jake. No." Joe was silent for a moment. + +Tresler waited. At last the little man made a move and spat out his +chew. + +"That's it," he said, slapping his thigh triumphantly--"that's it, +sure. Say, we needn't to tell Jake nuthin'. I'll git around among the +boys, an' let 'em know as I heerd tell of Red Mask bein' in the region +o' the Bend, an' how a Breed give me warnin', bein' scared to come +along to the ranch lest Red Mask got wind of it an' shut his head +lights fer him. Ther' ain't no use in rilin' Jake. Meanin' for you. +He's layin' fer you anyways, as I'm guessin' you'll likely know. +Savee? Lie low, most as low as a dead cat in a well. I'll play this +hand, wi'out you figgerin' in it; which, fer you, I guess is best." + +Tresler got up and dusted his clothes. There was a slight pause while +he fingered the leather-capped stirrups of the stock saddle on the +wall. + +Joe grew impatient. "Wal?" he said at last; "y' ain't bustin' wi' +'preciation." + +"On the contrary, I appreciate your shrewdness and kindly interest on +my behalf most cordially," Tresler replied, dropping the stirrup and +turning to his companion; "but, you see, there's one little weakness +in the arrangement. Jake's liable to underestimate the importance of +the nocturnal visits unless he knows the real facts. Besides----" + +"Besides," broke in Joe, with an impatience bred of his reading +through Tresler's lame objection, "you jest notion to rile Jake some. +Wal, you're a fool, Tresler--a dog-gone fool! Guess you'll strike a +snag, an' snags mostly hurts. Howsum, I ain't no wet-nurse, an' ef you +think to bluff Jake Harnach, get right ahead an' bluff. An' when you +bluff, bluff hard, an' back it, or you'll drop your wad sudden. Guess +I'll turn in." + +Joe moved off and Tresler followed. At the door of the bunkhouse they +parted, for Joe slept in a lean-to against the kitchen of the +rancher's house. They had said "good-night," and Joe was moving away +when he suddenly changed his mind and came back again. + +"Say, ther' ain't nothin' like a 'tenderfoot' fer bein' a fool, 'less +it's a settin' hen," he said, with profound contempt but with evident +good-will. "You're kind o' gritty, Tresler, I guess, but mebbe you'll +be ast to git across a tol'ble broncho in the mornin'. That's as may +be. But ef it's so, jest take two thinks 'fore settin' your six foot +o' body on a saddle built fer a feller o' five foot one. It ain't +reason'ble, an' it's dangerous. It's most like tryin' to do that as +isn't, never wus, and ain't like to be, an' if it did, wouldn't amount +to a heap anyway, 'cep' it's a heap o' foolishness." + +Tresler laughed. "All right. Two into one won't go without leaving a +lot over. Good-night, Joe." + +"So long. Them fellers as gits figgerin' mostly gits crazed fer doin' +what's impossible. Guess I ain't stuck on figgers nohow." + +And the man vanished into the night, while Tresler passed into the +bunkhouse to get what little sleep his first night as a ranchman might +afford him. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +TRESLER BEGINS HIS EDUCATION + + +But the story of the nocturnal visit of the horse thieves did not +reach the foreman next morning. Jake hailed Tresler down to the +corrals directly after breakfast. He was to have a horse told off to +him, and this matter, and the presence of others, made him postpone +his purpose to a more favorable time. + +When he arrived at the corrals, three of the boys, under Jake's +superintendence, were cutting out a big, raw-boned, mud-brown mare +from a bunch of about sixty colts. + +She stood well over sixteen hands--a clumsy, big-footed, mean-looking, +clean-limbed lady, rough-coated, and scored all over with marks of +"savaging." She was fiddle-headed and as lean as a hay-rake, but in +build she was every inch a grand piece of horse-flesh. And Tresler was +sufficient horseman to appreciate her lines, as well as the vicious, +roving eye which displayed the flashing whites at every turn. + +Jacob Smith was after her with a rope, and the onlookers watched his +lithe, active movements as he followed her, wildly racing round and +round the corral seeking a means of escape. + +Suddenly the man made a dart in to head her off. She turned to +retreat, but the other two were there to frustrate her purpose. Just +for a second she paused irresolutely; then, lowering her head and +setting her ears back, she came open-mouthed for Jacob. But he +anticipated her intention, and, as she came, sprang lightly aside, +while she swept on, lashing out her heels at him as she went. It was +the opportunity the man sought, and, in the cloud of dust that rose in +her wake, his lariat shot out low over the ground. The next moment she +fell headlong, roped by the two forefeet, and all three men sprang in +to the task of securing her. + +It was done so quickly that Tresler had hardly realized her capture +when Jake's harsh voice rang out-- + +"That's your mare, Tresler!" he cried; "guess that plug of yours'll do +for fancy ridin'. You'll break this one to handlin' cattle. You're a +tolerable weight, but she's equal to it." He laughed, and his laugh +sent an angry flush into the other's face. "Say," he went on, in +calmly contemptuous tones; "she's wild some. But she's been saddled +before. Oh, yes, she ain't raw off the grass. You, comin' from down +east, can mebbe ride. They mostly reckon to be able to ride till they +come along to these parts." + +Tresler understood the man's game; he also understood and fully +appreciated Joe Nelson's warning. He glanced at the saddle still +hanging on the corral wall. It would be simple suicide for him to +attempt to ride an outlaw with a saddle fit for a boy of fifteen. And +it was Jake's purpose, trading on his ignorance of such matters, to +fool him into using a saddle that would probably rupture him. + +"I presume she's the worst outlaw on the ranch," he replied quietly, +though his blue eyes shone dangerously. "She must be," he went on, as +Jake made no answer, "or you wouldn't give her to me, and point out +that she's been saddled before." + +"Kind o' weakenin'?" Jake asked with a sneer. + +"No. I was just thinking of my saddle. It will be no use on her; she'd +burst the girths." + +"That needn't worry you any. There's a stock saddle there, on the +fence." + +"Thank you, I'll ride on a saddle that fits a man of my size, or you +can ride the mare yourself." + +Tresler was round and facing his man, and his words came in a tone the +other was unaccustomed to. But Jake kept quite cool while he seemed to +be debating with himself. Then he abruptly turned away with a short, +vicious laugh. + +"Guess the 'tenderfoot's' plumb scared to ride her, boys," he called +out to the men, relapsing into the vernacular as he addressed them. +"Any o' you boys lendin' a saddle, or shall we find him a rockin'-hoss +to run around on?" + +Tresler fell headlong into the trap. Jake had drawn him with a skill +worthy of a better object. + +"If there is anybody scared, I don't think it is I, boys," he said +with a laugh as harsh as Jake's had been. "If one of you will lend me +a man's saddle, I'll break that mare or she'll break me." + +Now, Tresler was a very ordinary horseman. He had never in his life +sat a horse that knew the first rudiments of bucking; but at that +moment he would have mounted to the back of any horse, even if his +life were to pay the forfeit next moment. Besides, even in his blind +anger, he realized that this sort of experience must come sooner or +later. "Broncho-busting" would be part of his training. Therefore, +when some one suggested Arizona's saddle--since Arizona was on the +sick list--he jumped at the chance, for that individual was about his +size. + +The mare was now on her legs again, and stood ready bridled, while two +men held her with the lariat drawn tight over her windpipe. She stood +as still as a rock, and to judge by the flashing of her eyes, inwardly +raging. They led her out of the corral, and Arizona's saddle was +brought and the stirrups adjusted to Tresler's requirements. She was +taken well clear of the buildings into the open, and Jacob, with the +subtlety and art acquired by long practice in breaking horses, +proceeded to saddle her. Lew and Raw Harris choked her quiet with the +lariat, and though she physically attempted to resent the indignity of +being saddled, the cinchas were drawn tight. + +Tresler had come over by himself, leaving Jake to watch the +proceedings from the vantage ground of the rise toward the house. He +was quite quiet, and the boys stole occasional apprehensive glances at +him. They knew this mare; they knew that she was a hopeless outlaw and +fit only for the knacker's yard. At last Jacob beckoned him over. + +"Say, ther' ain't no need fer you to ride her, mister," he said, +feeling that it was his duty as a man to warn him. "She's the worstest +devil on the range, an' she'll break your neck an' jump on you with +her maulin' great hoofs, sure. I guess ther' ain't a 'buster' in the +country 'ud tackle her fer less 'an a fi' dollar wager, she's that +mean." + +"And she looks all you say of her, Jacob," replied Tresler, with a +grim smile. "Thanks for your warning, but I'm going to try and ride +her," he went on with quiet decision. "Not because I think I can, but +because that bully up there"--with a nod in Jake's direction--"would +only be too glad of the chance of taunting me with 'weakening.' She +shall throw me till she makes it a physical impossibility for me to +mount her again. All I ask is that you fellows stand by to keep her +off when I'm on the ground." + +By this time Jacob had secured the saddle, and now Tresler walked +round the great beast, patting her gently and speaking to her. And she +watched him with an evil, staring eye that boded nothing good. Then he +took a rawhide quirt from Jacob and, twisting it on his wrist, mounted +her, while the men kept the choking rope taut about her throat, and +she stood like a statue, except for the heaving of her sides as she +gasped for breath. + +He gathered the reins up, which had been passed through the noose of +the lariat, and sat ready. Jacob drew off, and held the end of the +rope. Tresler gave the word. The two men left her, while, with a shake +and a swift jerk, Jacob flung the lariat clear of the mare's head. In +an instant the battle had begun. + +Down went the lady's head (the boys called her by a less complimentary +name), and she shot into the air with her back humped till she shaped +like an inverted U with its extremities narrowed and almost touching. +There was no seesaw bucking about her. It was stiff-legged, with her +four feet bunched together and her great fiddle-head lost in their +midst. And at the first jump Tresler shot a foot out of the saddle, +lurched forward and then back, and finally came down where he had +started from. And as he fell heavily into the saddle his hand struck +against a coiled blanket strap behind the cantle, and he instinctively +grabbed hold of it and clung to it for dear life. + +Up she shot again, and deliberately swung round in the air and came +down with her head where her tail had been. It was a marvelous, +cat-like spring, calculated to unseat the best of horsemen. Tresler +was half out of the saddle again, but the blanket strap saved him, and +the next buck threw him back into his seat. Now her jumps came like +the shots from a gatling gun, and the man on her back was dazed, and +his head swam, and he felt the blood rushing to his ear-drums. But +with desperate resolve he clung to his strap, and so retained his +seat. But it couldn't last, and he knew it, although those looking on +began to have hopes that he would tire the vixen out. But they didn't +know the demon that possessed her. + +Suddenly it seemed as though an accident had happened to her. Her legs +absolutely shot from under her as she landed from one terrific buck, +and she plunged to the ground. Then her intention became apparent. But +luckily the antic had defeated its own end, for Tresler was flung +wide, and, as she rolled on the ground, he scrambled clear of her +body. + +He struggled to his feet, but not before she had realized his escape, +and, with the savage instinct of a man-eater, had sprung to her feet +and was making for him open-mouthed. It was Jacob's readiness and +wonderful skill that saved him. The rope whistled through the air and +caught her, the noose falling over her head with scarcely room between +her nose and her victim's back for the rawhide to pass. In a flash the +strands strung tight, and her head swung round with such a jolt that +she was almost thrown from her feet. + +Again she was choked down, and Tresler, breathing desperately, but +with his blood fairly up, was on top of her almost before the man +holding her realized his intention. The mare was foaming at the mouth, +and a lather of sweat dripped from her tuckered flanks. The whites of +her eyes were flaming scarlet now, and when she was let loose again +she tried to savage her rider's legs. Failing this, she threw her head +up violently, and, all unprepared for it, Tresler received the blow +square in the mouth. Then she was up on her hind legs, fighting the +air with her front feet, and a moment later crashed over backward. And +again it seemed like a miracle that he escaped; he slid out of the +saddle, not of his own intention, and rolled clear as she came down. + +This time she was caught before she could struggle to her feet, and +when at last she stood up she was dazed and shaken, though still +unconquered. + +Again Tresler mounted. He was bruised and bleeding, and shaking as +with an ague. And now the mare tried a new move. She bucked; but it +was a running buck, her body twisting and writhing with curious +serpentine undulations, and her body seemed to shrink under his legs +as though the brute were drawing in her whole frame of a settled +purpose. Then, having done enough in this direction, she suddenly +stood, and began to kick violently, with her head stretched low +between her forelegs. And Tresler felt himself sliding, saddle and +all, over her withers! Suddenly the blanket strap failed him. It +cracked and gave, and he shot from the saddle like a new-fired rocket. + +And when the mare had been caught again she was without the saddle, +which was now lying close to where her rider had fallen. She had +bucked and kicked herself clean through the still-fastened cinchas. + +Tresler was bleeding from nose and ears when he mounted again. The +saddle was cinched up very tight, and the mare herself was so blown +that she was unable to distend herself to resist the pressure. But, +nevertheless, she fought as though a devil possessed her, and, +exhausted, and without the help of the blanket strap, he was thrown +again and again. Five times he fell; and each time, as no bones were +broken, he remounted her. But he was growing helpless. + +But the men looking on realized that which was lost upon the rider +himself. The mare was done; she was fairly beaten. The fifth time he +climbed into the saddle her bucks wouldn't have thrown a babe; and +when they beheld this, they, with one accord, shouted to him. + +"Say, thrash her, boy! Lace h---- out of her!" roared Jacob. + +"Cut her liver out wi' that quirt!" cried Lew. + +"Ay, run her till she can't see," added Raw. + +And Tresler obeyed mechanically. He was too exhausted to do much; but +he managed to bring the quirt down over her shoulders, until, maddened +with pain, she rose up on her hind legs, gave a mighty bound forward, +and raced away down the trail like a creature possessed. + +It was dinner-time when Tresler saw the ranch again. He returned with +the mare jaded and docile. He had recovered from the battle, while she +had scarcely energy enough to put one foot before the other. She was +conquered. To use Arizona's expression, when, from the doorway of the +bunkhouse, he saw the mare crawling up the trail toward the ranch-- + +"Guess she's loaded down till her springs is nigh busted." + +And Tresler laughed outright in Jake's face when that individual came +into the barn, while he was rubbing her down, and generally returning +good for evil, and found fault with his work. + +"Where, I'd like to know, have you been all this time?" he asked +angrily. Then, as his eyes took in the pitiful sight of the exhausted +mare, "Say, you've ruined that mare, and you'll have to make it good. +We don't keep horses for the hands to founder. D'you see what you've +done? You've broke her heart." + +"And if I'd had the chance I'd have broken her neck too," Tresler +retorted, with so much heat, that, in self-defense, the foreman was +forced to leave him alone. + +That afternoon the real business of ranching began. Lew Cawley was +sent out with Tresler to instruct him in mending barbed-wire fences. +A distant pasture had been broken into by the roving cattle outside. +Lew remained with him long enough to show him how to strain the wires +up and splice them, then he rode off to other work. + +Tresler was glad to find himself out on the prairie away from the +unbearable influence of the ranch foreman. The afternoon was hot, but +it was bright with the sunshine, which, in the shadow of the +mountains, is so bracing. The pastures he was working in were +different from the lank weedy-grown prairie, although of the same +origin. They were irrigated, and had been sown and re-sown with +timothy grass and clover. The grass rose high up to the horse's knees +as he rode, and the quiet, hard-working animal, his own property, +reveled in the sweet-scented fodder which he could nip at as he moved +leisurely along. + +And Tresler worked very easily that afternoon. Not out of indolence, +not out of any ill-feeling toward his foreman. He was weary after his +morning's exertions, and, besides, the joy of being out in the pure, +bright air, on that wondrous sea of rolling green grass with its +illimitable suggestion of freedom and its gracious odors, seduced him +to an indolence quite foreign to him. He was beyond the view of the +ranch, with two miles of prairie rollers intervening, so he did his +work without concern for time. + +It was well after four o'clock when the last strand of wire was strung +tight. Then, for want of a shady tree to lean his back against, he sat +down by a fence post and smoked, while his horse, with girths +loosened, and bit removed from its mouth, grazed joyfully near by. + +And then he slept. The peace of the prairie world got hold of him; the +profound silence lulled his fagged nerves, his pipe went out, and he +slept. + +He awoke with a start. Nor, for the moment, did he know where he was. +His pipe had fallen from his mouth, and he found himself stretched +full length upon the ground. But something unusual had awakened him, +and when he had gathered his scattered senses he looked about him to +ascertain what the nature of the disturbance had been. The next moment +a laughing voice hailed him. + +"Is this the way you learn ranching, Mr. Tresler? Oh, shame! Sleeping +the glorious hours of sunshine away." + +It was the rich, gentle voice of Diane Marbolt, and its tone was one +of quiet raillery. She was gazing down at him from the back of her +sturdy broncho mare, Bessie, with eyes from which, for the moment at +least, all sadness had vanished. + +Just now her lips were wreathed in a bright smile, and her soft brown +eyes were dancing with a joyous light, which, when Tresler had first +seen her, had seemed impossible to them. She was out on the prairie, +on the back of her favorite, Bessie; she was away from the ranch, from +the home that possessed so many cares for her. She was out in her +world, the world she loved, the world that was the only world for her, +breathing the pure, delicious air which, even in moments of profound +unhappiness, had still power to carry her back to the days of happy, +careless childhood; had still power to banish all but pleasant +thoughts, and to bestow upon her that wild sense of freedom such as is +only given to those who have made their home on its virgin bosom. + +Tresler beheld this girl now in her native mood. He saw before him the +true child of the prairie such as she really was. She was clad in a +blue dungaree habit and straw sun-hat, and he marveled at the +ravishing picture she made. He raised himself upon his elbow and +stared at her, and a sensation of delight swept over him as he +devoured each detail of face and figure. Then, suddenly, he was +recalled to his senses by the abrupt fading of the smile from the face +before him; and he flushed with a rueful sense of guiltiness. + +"Fairly caught napping, Miss Marbolt," he said, in confusion. "I +acknowledge the sloth, but not the implied laxness anent ranching. +Believe me, I have learned an ample lesson to-day. I now have a fuller +appreciation of our worthy foreman; a fair knowledge of the horse, +most accurately termed 'outlaw', as the bruised condition of my body +can testify; and, as for barbed-wire fencing, I really believe I have +discovered every point in its construction worthy of consideration." + +He raised a pair of lacerated hands for the girl's inspection, and +rose, smiling, to his feet. + +"I apologize." Diane was smiling again now as she noted the network of +scratches upon his outstretched palms. "You certainly have not been +idle," she added, significantly. + +Then she became serious with a suddenness that showed how very near +the surface, how strongly marked was that quiet, thoughtful nature her +companion had first realized in her. + +"But I saw you on that mare, and I thought you would surely be killed. +Do you know they've tried to break her for two seasons, and failed +hopelessly. What happened after she bolted?" + +"Oh, nothing much. I rode her to Forks and back twice." + +"Forty miles! Good gracious! What is she like now?" + +"Done up, of course. Jake assures me I've broken her heart; but I +haven't. My Lady Jezebel has a heart of stone that would take +something in the nature of a sledge-hammer to break. She'll buck like +the mischief again to-morrow." + +"Yes." + +The girl nodded. She had witnessed the battle between the "tenderfoot" +and the mare; and, now that it was all over, she felt pleased that he +had won. And there was no mistaking the approval in the glance she +gave him. She understood the spirit that had moved him to drive the +mare that forty miles; nor, in spite of a certain sympathy for the +jaded creature, did she condemn him for it. She was too much a child +of the prairie to morbidly sentimentalize over the matter. The mare +was a savage of the worst type, and she knew that prairie horses in +their breaking often require drastic treatment. It was the stubborn, +purposeful character of the man that she admired, and thought most +of. He had carried out a task that the best horse-breaker in the +country might reasonably have shrunk from, and all to please the +brutal nature of Jake Harnach. + +"And you've christened her 'Lady Jezebel'?" she asked. + +Tresler laughed. "Why, yes, it seems to suit her," he said +indifferently. + +Then a slight pause followed which amounted almost to awkwardness. The +girl had come to find him. Her visit was not a matter of chance. She +wanted to talk to this man from the East. And, somehow, Tresler +understood that this was so. For some moments she sat stroking +Bessie's shoulder with her rawhide riding-switch. The mare grew +restive. She, too, seemed to understand something of the awkwardness, +and did her best to break it up by one or two of her frivolous +gambols. When she had been pacified, the girl leaned forward in her +saddle and looked straight into her companion's eyes. + +"Tell me," she said, abruptly; "why did you ride that animal?" + +The man laughed a little harshly. "Because--well, because I hadn't +sense enough to refuse, I suppose." + +"Ah, I understand. Jake Harnach." + +Tresler shrugged. + +"I came out purposely to speak to you," the girl went on, in a quiet, +direct manner. There was not the least embarrassment now. She had made +up her mind to avoid all chance of misunderstanding. "I want to put +matters quite plainly before you. This morning's business was only a +sequel to your meeting with Jake, or rather a beginning of the +sequel." + +Tresler shook his head and smiled. "Not the beginning of the sequel. +That occurred last evening, after I left you." + +Diane looked a swift inquiry. + +"Yes, Jake is not an easy man. But believe me, Miss Marbolt, you need +have no fear. I see what it is; you, in the kindness of your heart, +dread that I, a stranger here in your land, in your home, may be +maltreated, or even worse by that unconscionable ruffian. Knowing your +father's affliction, you fear that I have no protection from Jake's +murderous savagery, and you are endeavoring bravely to thrust your +frail self between us, and so stave off a catastrophe. Have no fear. I +do not anticipate a collision. He is only an atrocious bully." + +"He is more than that. You underestimate him." + +The girl's face had darkened. Her lips were firmly compressed, and an +angry fire burned in her usually soft eyes. + +Tresler, watching, read the hatred for Jake; read the hatred, and saw +that which seemed so out of place in the reliant little face. A +pronounced fear was also expressed, and the two were so marked that it +was hard to say which feeling predominated. Hatred had stirred depths +of fire in her beautiful eyes, but fear had paled her features, had +set drawn lines about her mouth and brows. He wondered. + +"You are right, Mr. Tresler, in that you think I dread for your +safety," she went on presently. "It was certainly that dread that +brought me out here to-day. You do not anticipate a collision because +you are a brave man. You have no fear, therefore you give no thought +to possibilities. I am weak and a woman, and I see with eyes of +understanding and knowledge of Jake, and I know that the collision +will be forced upon you; and, further, when the trouble comes, Jake +will take no chances. But you must not think too well of me. Believe +me, there is selfishness at the root of my anxiety. Do you not see +what trouble it will cause to us; my father, me?" + +Tresler looked away. The girl had a strange insistence. It seemed to +him folly to consider the matter so seriously. He was convinced that +she was holding something back; that she was concealing her real +reason--perhaps the reason of her own fear of Jake--for thus +importuning him. It did not take him long to make up his mind with +those lovely, appealing eyes upon him. He turned back to her with a +frank smile, and held out his hand. Diane responded, and they shook +hands like two friends making a bargain. + +"You are right, Miss Marbolt," he said. "I promise you to do all in my +power to keep the peace with Jake. But," and here he held up a finger +in mock warning, "anything in the nature of a physical attack will be +resented--to the last." + +Diane nodded. She had obtained all the assurance he would give, she +knew, and wisely refrained from further pressure. + +Now a silence fell. The sun was dropping low in the west, and already +the shadows on the grass were lengthening. Tresler brought his +grazing horse back. When he returned Diane reverted to something he +had said before. + +"This 'sequel' you spoke of. You didn't tell me it." Her manner had +changed, and she spoke almost lightly. + +"The matter of the sequel was a trivial affair, and only took the form +of Jake's spleen in endeavoring to make my quarters as uncomfortable +for me as possible. No, the incident I had chiefly in mind was +something altogether different. It was all so strange--so very +strange," he went on reflectively. "One adventure on top of another +ever since my arrival. The last, and strangest of all, did not occur +until nearly midnight." + +He looked up with a smile, but only to find that Diane's attention was +apparently wandering. + +The girl was gazing out over the waving grass-land with deep, +brooding, dreamy eyes. There was no anger in them now, only her +features looked a little more drawn and hard. The man waited for a +moment, then as she did not turn he went on. + +"You have strange visitors at the ranch, Miss Marbolt--very strange. +They come stealthily in the dead of night; they come through the +shelter of the pinewoods, where it is dark, almost black, at night. +They come with faces masked--at least one face----" + +He got no further. There was no lack of effect now. Diane was round +upon him, gazing at him with frightened eyes. + +"You saw them?" she cried; and a strident ring had replaced her +usually soft tones. + +"Them? Who?" + +For a moment they stared into each other's eyes. He inquiringly; she +with fear and mingled horror. + +"These--these visitors." The words came almost in a whisper. + +"Yes." + +"And what were they like?" + +The girl spoke apprehensively. + +Then Tresler told his story as he had told it to Joe Nelson. And Diane +hung on every word he uttered, searching him through and through with +her troubled eyes. + +"What are you going to do about it?" she asked as he finished. + +Tresler was struck with the peculiarity of the question. She expressed +no surprise, no wonder. It seemed as though the matter was in nowise +new to her. Her whole solicitude was in her anticipation of what he +would do about it. + +"I am not sure," he said, concealing his surprise under a leisurely +manner. "I had intended to tell Jake," he went on a moment later, +"only the Lady Jezebel put it out of my head. I told Joe Nelson last +night. He told me I had seen Red Mask, the cattle thief, and one of +his men. He also tried to get me to promise that I would say nothing +about it to Jake. I refused to give that promise. He gave me no +sufficient reasons, you see, and--well, I failed to see the necessity +for silence." + +"But there is a necessity, Mr. Tresler. The greatest." Diane's tone +was thrilling with an almost fierce earnestness. "Joe was right. Jake +is the last person to whom you should tell your story." + +"Why?" + +"Why?" Diane echoed, with a mirthless laugh. "Pshaw!" + +"Yes, why? I have a right to know, Miss Marbolt." + +"You shall know all I can tell you." The girl seemed on the verge of +making an impulsive statement, but suddenly stopped; and when at last +she did proceed her tone was more calm and so low as to be little +above a whisper. "Visitors such as you have seen have been seen by +others before. The story, as you have told it, has in each case been +told to Jake by the unfortunate who witnessed these strange movements +at night----" + +"Unfortunate?" + +"Yes. The informant has always met with misfortune, accident--whatever +you like to call it. Listen; it is a long story, but I will merely +outline the details I wish to impress on you. Some years ago this Red +Mask appeared from no one knows where. Curiously enough his appearance +was in the vicinity of this ranch. We were robbed, and he vanished. +Some time later he was seen again, much the same as you saw him last +night. One of our boys gave the warning to Jake. Two days later the +poor fellow who informed upon him was found shot on the trail into +Forks. Later, again, another hand witnessed a somewhat similar scene +and gave information. His end was by drowning in a shallow part of the +river. Folks attributed his end to drink, but----Again Red Mask +showed up--always at night--again he was seen, and Jake was warned. +The victim this time met his death by the falling of a rock in the +foot-hills. The rock killed horse and rider. And so it has gone on at +varying intervals. Eight men have been similarly treated. The ninth, +Arizona, barely escaped with his life a little while ago. I've no +doubt but that some accident will happen to him yet. And, mark this, +in each case the warning has gone first to Jake. I may be altogether +wrong; certainly other folks do not look upon the death of these +various men with suspicion, but I have watched, and reasoned out all I +have seen. And----" + +"Why, Jake must----" + +"Hush!" + +Diane gazed round her apprehensively. + +"No, no, Mr. Tresler," she went on hurriedly, "I do not say that; I +dare not think of it. Jake has been with us so long; he cares for +father's interest as for his own. In spite of his terrible nature he +is father's--friend." + +"And the man who intends to marry you," Tresler added to himself. +Aloud he asked, "Then how do you account for it?" + +"That's just it. I--I don't account for it. I only warn you not to +take your story to Jake." + +Tresler drew a step nearer, and stood so close to her that her +dungaree skirt was almost touching him. He looked up in a manner that +compelled her gaze. + +"You do account for it, Miss Marbolt," he said emphatically. + +Nor did the girl attempt denial. Just for a moment there was a +breathless silence. Then Bessie pawed the ground, and thrust her nose +into the face of Tresler's horse in friendly, caressing fashion; and +the movement broke the spell. + +"Urge me no further, Mr. Tresler," Diane exclaimed appealingly. "Do +not make me say something I have no right to say; something I might +have cause to regret all my life. Believe me, I hardly know what to +believe, and what not to believe; I hardly know what to think. I can +only speak as my instinct guides me. Oh, Mr. Tresler, I--I can trust +you. Yes--I know I can." + +The girl's appeal had its effect. Tresler reached up and caught the +little outstretched hands. + +"Yes, you can trust me, Miss Marbolt," he said with infinite kindness. +"You have done the very best thing you could have done. You have given +me your confidence--a trouble that I can see has caused you ages of +unhappiness. I confess you have opened up suspicions that seem almost +preposterous, but you----" He broke off, and stood gazing down +thoughtfully at the two hands he still held clasped within his. Then +he seemed to become suddenly aware of the position, and, with a slight +laugh, released them. "Pardon me," he said, glancing up into the +troubled eyes with a kindly smile. "I was dreaming. Come, let us +return to the ranch. It is time. It will be pleasant riding in the +cool. By Jove, I begin to think that it is more than possible I owe +Jake considerable gratitude after all." + +"You owe him nothing," answered Diane, with angry emphasis. "You owe +him nothing but obedience as a ranch hand, and that you will have to +pay him. For the rest, avoid him as you would a pest." + +Tresler sprang into the saddle, and the horses ambled leisurely off in +the direction of the ranch. And, as he rode, he set aside all thoughts +of Jake and of Red Mask. He thought only of the girl herself, of her +delightful companionship. + +His steady-going horse, with due regard for the sex of his companion, +allowed Bess to lead him by a neck. He traveled amiably by her side, +every now and then raising his nose as though to bite his spirited +little companion, but it was only pretense. Nor did Tresler urge him +faster. He preferred that they should travel thus. He could gaze to +his heart's content upon Diane without displaying rudeness. He could +watch the trim, erect figure, poised so easily and gracefully upon the +saddle. She rode like one born to the saddle, and by the gait of her +mare, he could see that her hands were of the lightest, yet firm and +convincing to the high-mettled animal they controlled. + +The girl was a perfect picture as she rode; her rich, dark hair was +loosely coiled, and several waving ringlets had fluffed loose with the +breeze and motion of riding, and strayed from the shadow of her wide +hat. Tresler's thoughts went back to his home; and, he told himself, +none of the horsewomen he had known could have displayed such an +abundant grace in the saddle with their rigid habits and smart hats. +There was nothing of the riding-school here; just the horsemanship +that is so much a natural instinct. + +And so they rode on to the ranch. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE KILLING OF MANSON ORR + + +All was still and drowsy about the ranch. Every available hand was out +at work upon some set task, part of the daily routine of the cattle +world. Mosquito Bend was a splendid example of discipline, for Jake +was never the man to let his men remain idle. Even Arizona had been +set to herd the milch cows and generally tend the horses remaining in +the barn; and Tresler, too, was further acquainting himself with the +cantankerous nature of barbed-wire fencing. + +On this particular afternoon there was nothing about the ranch to +indicate the undercurrent of trouble Tresler had so quickly discovered +to be flowing beneath its calm surface. The sun was pouring down upon +the wiltering foliage with a fierceness which had set the insect world +droning its drowsy melody; the earth was already parching; the sloughs +were already dry, and the tall grass therein was rapidly ripening +against the season of haying. But in spite of the seeming peace; in +spite of the cloudless sky, the pastoral beauty of the scene, the +almost inaudible murmur of the distant river, the tide was flowing +swiftly and surely. It was leaping with the roar of a torrent. + +A clatter of horse's hoofs broke up the quiet, and came rattling over +the river trail. The noise reached Jake's ears and set him alert. He +recognized the eager haste, the terrific speed, of the animal +approaching. He rose from his bunk and stood ready, and a look of deep +interest was in his bold black eyes. Suddenly a horseman came into +view. He was leaning well over his horse's neck, urging to a race with +whip and spur. Jake saw him sweep by and breast the rise to the +rancher's house. + +At the verandah the man flung off his horse, and left the drooping +beast standing while he hammered at the door. There was some delay, +and he repeated his summons still more forcibly, adding his voice to +his demand. + +"Hello there!" he called. "Any one in?" + +"Archie Orr," Jake muttered to himself, as he stepped out of his hut. + +The next moment the man at the verandah was caught up in the full +blast of the foreman's half-savage and wholly hectoring protest. + +"What blazin' racket are you raisin' ther'?" he roared, charging up +the hill with heavy, hurried strides. "This ain't Skitter Reach, you +dog-gone coyote, nor that ain't your pap's shanty. What's itchin' you, +blast you?" + +Archie swung round at the first shout. There was a wild expression on +his somewhat weak face. It was the face of a weak nature suddenly +worked up into the last pitch of frenzy. But even so the approach of +Jake was not without its effect. His very presence was full of threat +to the weaker man. Archie was no physical coward, but, in that first +moment of meeting, he felt as if he had been suddenly taken by the +collar, lifted up and shaken, and forcibly set down on his feet again. +And his reply came in a tone that voiced the mental process he had +passed through. + +"I've come for help. I was in Forks last night, and only got home this +afternoon," he answered, with unnatural calmness. Then the check gave +way before his hysterical condition, and Jake's momentary influence +was lost upon him. "I tell you it's Red Mask! It's him and his gang! +They've shot my father down; they've burned us out, and driven off our +stock! God's curse on the man! But I'll have him. I'll hunt him down. +Ha! ha!" The young man's blue eyes flashed and his face worked as his +hysteria rose and threatened to overwhelm him. "You hear?" he shouted +on--"what does it say? Blood for blood. I'll have it! Give me some +help. Give me horses, and I'll have it! I'll----" His voice had risen +to a shriek. + +"You'll shut off that damned noise, or"--Jake's ferocious face was +thrust forward, and his fierce eyes glared furiously into the +other's--"or git." + +Archie shrank back silenced at once. The effect suited the foreman, +and he went on with a sardonic leer-- + +"An' you'll have 'blood for blood' o' Red Mask? You? You who was away +boozin' in Forks when you'd a right to ha' been around lookin' to see +that old skinflint of a father o' yours didn't git no hurt. You're +goin' to round up Red Mask; you who ain't got guts enough but to crawl +round here fer help to do it. You!" + +A hot reply sprang to the youngster's lips in spite of his fear of +this man, but it died suddenly as a voice from within the doorway +broke in upon them. + +"And a right purpose too, Archie." + +Diane stepped out on to the verandah and ranged herself at his side, +while her scornful brown eyes sought the foreman's face. There was a +moment's pause, then she looked up into the boy's troubled face. + +"You want to see my father?" + +Archie was only eighteen, and though well grown and muscular, he was +still only a boy. + +"Yes, Miss Diane; I do want to see him. I want to borrow a couple of +horses from him, and to ask his advice." + +Archie's recent heat and hysteria had soothed under the influence of +the girl's presence. He now stood bowed and dejected; he appeared to +have suddenly grown old. Jake watched the scene with a sneer on his +brutal face, but remained silent now that Diane was present. + +"I will rouse him myself," she said quietly, moving toward the door. +"Yes, you shall see him, Archie. I heard what you said just now, and +I'll tell him. But----" She broke off, hesitating. Then she came back +to him. "Is--is your father dead, or--only wounded?" + +The boy's head dropped forward, and two great tears rolled slowly down +his cheeks. Diane turned away, and a far-off look came into her steady +brown eyes. There was a silence for a moment, then a deep, +heart-broken sob came from the lad at her side. She flashed one hard +glance in Jake's direction and turned to her companion, gently +gripping his arm in a manner that expressed a world of womanly +sympathy. Her touch, her quiet, strong helpfulness, did more for him +than any formal words of condolence could have done. He lifted his +head and dashed the tears from his face; and the girl smiled +encouragement upon him. + +"Wait here," she said; "I will go and fetch father." + +She slipped away, leaving the two men alone. And when she had gone, +the foreman's raucous voice sounded harshly on the still air. + +"Say, you ain't smart, neither. We got one of your kidney around here +now. Kind o' reckons to fix the old man through the girl. Most +weak-kneed fellers gamble a pile on petticoats. Wal, I guess you're +right out. Marbolt ain't easy that way. You'll be sorry you fetched +him from his bed, or I don't know him." + +Archie made no reply. Nor was any more talk possible, for at that +moment there came the steady tap, tap, of the blind man's stick down +the passage, and the two men faced the door expectantly. The rancher +shuffled out on to the verandah. Diane was at his side, and led him +straight over to young Orr. The old man's head was poised alertly for +a second; then he turned swiftly in the foreman's direction. + +"Hah! that you, Jake?" He nodded as he spoke, and then turned back to +the other. The blind man's instinct seemed something more than human. + +"Eh? Your father murdered, boy?" Marbolt questioned, without the least +softening of tone. "Murdered?" + +Archie gulped down his rising emotion. But there was no life in his +answer--his words came in a tone of utter hopelessness. + +"Yes, sir; shot down, I gather, in defense of our homestead." + +The steady stare of the rancher's red eyes was hard to support. Archie +felt himself weaken before the personality of this man he had come to +see. + +"Gather?" + +The hardness of his greeting had now changed to the gentleness of tone +in which the blind man usually spoke. But the boy drew no confidence +from it while confronted by those unseeing eyes. It was Diane who +understood and replied for him. + +"Yes; Archie was in Forks last night, on business, father. He only +learned what had happened on returning home this afternoon. He--he +wants some help." + +"Yes, sir," Archie went on quickly; "only a little help. I came home +to find our homestead burned clean out. Not a roof left to shelter my +mother and sister, and not one living beast left upon the place, +except the dogs. Oh, my God, it is awful! Mother and Alice were +sitting beside the corral gate weeping fit to break their hearts over +the dead body of father when I found them. And the story, as I learned +it, sir, was simple--horribly, terribly simple. They were roused at +about two in the morning by the dogs barking. Father, thinking timber +wolves were around, went out with a gun. He saw nothing till he got to +the corrals. Then mother, watching from her window, saw the flash of +several guns, and heard the rattle of their reports. Father dropped. +Then the gang of murderers roused out the stock, and some drove it +off, while others wantonly fired the buildings. It was Red Mask, sir, +for he came up to the house and ordered mother out before the place +was fired. She is sure it was him because of his mask. She begged him +not to burn her home, but the devil had no remorse; he vouchsafed only +one reply. Maybe she forced him to an answer with her appeal; maybe he +only spoke to intimidate others who might hear of his words from her. +Anyway, he said, 'Your man and you open your mouths too wide around +this place. Manson Orr wrote in to the police, and asked for +protection. You won't need it now, neither will he.'" He paused, while +the horror of his story sank deeply into the heart of at least one of +his hearers. Then he went on with that eager, nervous fire he had at +first displayed: "Mr. Marbolt, I look to you to help me. I've got +nothing to keep me now from following this devil of a man. I want to +borrow horses, and I'll hunt him down. I'll hunt him down while I've a +breath left in my body, sir," he went on, with rising passion. "I'll +pay him if it takes me my lifetime! Only lend me the horses, sir. It +is as much to your interest as mine, for he has robbed you before now; +your property is no more safe than any other man's. Let us combine to +fight him, to bring him down, to measure him his full measure, to send +him to hell, where he belongs. I'll do this----" + +"Yes, while your mother and sister starve," put in the blind man, +drily. Then, as the fire of Archie's passion suddenly sank at the +cold, incisive words, and he remained silent and abashed, he went on, +in quiet, even tones, while his red eyes were focussed upon his +visitor's face with disconcerting directness, "No, no; go you--I won't +say 'home,' but go you to your mother and sister: look after them, +care for them, work for them. You owe that to them before any act of +vengeance be made. When you have achieved their comfort, you are at +liberty to plunge into any rashness you choose. I am no youngster, +Archie Orr, I am a man of years, who has seen, all my life, only +through a brain rendered doubly acute by lack of sight, and my advice +is worthy of your consideration. You have nothing more to fear from +Red Mask at present, but if you continue your headlong course you will +have; and, as far as I can make out, his hand is heavy and swift in +falling. Go back to your women-folk, I say. You can get no horses from +me for such a foolhardy purpose as you meditate." + +Diane had watched her father closely, and as he finished speaking, she +moved toward the bereaved man and laid a hand upon his arm in gentle +appeal. + +"Father is right, Archie. Go back to them, those two lonely, +broken-hearted women. You can do all for them if you will. They need +all that your kind, honest heart can bestow. It is now that you must +show the stuff you are made of." + +Archie had turned away; but he looked round and mechanically glanced +down at the brown hand still resting upon his arm. The sight of it +held him for some moments, and when he raised his head a new look was +in his eyes. The sympathy in her tones, the gentle encouragement of +the few words she had spoken, had completed that which the sound but +unsympathetic advice of her father had begun. + +His purpose had been the wild impulse of unstable youth; there was no +strength to it, no real resolution. Besides, he was a gentle-hearted +lad, to whom Diane's appeal for his mother and sister was +irresistible. + +"Thank you, Miss Diane," he said, with a profound sigh. "Your kind +heart has seen where my anger has been blind. Yes, I will return and +help my mother. And I thank you, sir," he went on, turning reluctantly +to face the stare of the rancher's eyes again. "You, too, have plainly +shown me my duty, and I shall follow it, but--if ever----" + +"And you'll do well," broke in Jake, with a rough laugh that jarred +terribly. "Your father's paid his pound. If his son's wise, he'll hunt +his hole." + +Archie's eyes flashed ominously. Diane saw the look, and, in an +instant, drew his attention to his horse, which was moving off toward +the barn. + +"See, Archie," she said, with a gentle smile, "your horse is weary, +and is looking for rest." + +The boy read her meaning. He held out his hand impulsively, and the +girl placed hers into it. In a moment his other had closed over it, +and he shook it tenderly. Then, without a word, he made off after his +horse. + +The blind man's face was turned in his direction as he went, and when +the sound of his footsteps had died away, he turned abruptly and +tapped his way back to the door. At the threshold he turned upon the +foreman. + +"Two days in succession I have been disturbed," he gritted out. "You +are getting past your work, Jake Harnach." + +"Father----" Diane started forward in alarm, but he cut her short. + +"And as for you, miss, remember your place in my house. Go, look to +your duties. Sweep, wash, cook, sew. Those are the things your sex is +made for. What interest have you, dare you have, in that brainless +boy? Let him fight his own battles. It may make a man of him; though I +doubt it. He is nothing to you." + +Diane shrank before the scathing blast of that sightless fury. But she +rallied to protest. + +"It is the women-folk, father." + +"Women-folk? Bah!" + +He threw up his hands in ineffable scorn, and shuffled away into the +house. + +Jake, still smarting under the attack, stood leaning against the +verandah post. He was looking away down at the bunkhouse, where a +group of the men were gathered about Archie Orr, who, seated on his +horse, was evidently telling his tale afresh. + +Diane approached him. He did not even turn to meet her. + +"Jake, I want Bess at once. Hitch her to the buckboard, and have her +sent round to the kitchen door." + +"What are you goin' to do, my girl?" he asked, without shifting his +gaze. + +"Maybe I shall drive over to see those poor women." + +"Maybe?" + +"Yes." + +"You can't have her." + +Jake turned, and looked down at her from his great height. Archie Orr +had just ridden off. + +Diane returned his look fearlessly, and there was something in the +directness of her gaze that made the giant look away. + +"I think I can," she said quietly. "Go and see to it now." + +The man started. It seemed as if he were about to bluster. His bold, +black eyes flashed ominously, and it was plain from his attitude that +a flat and harsh refusal was on his lips. But somehow he didn't say +it. The brutality of his expression slowly changed as he looked at +her. A gentle light stole slowly, and it seemed with difficulty, into +his eyes, where it looked as out of place as the love-light in the +eyes of a tiger. But there was no mistaking it. However incongruous it +was there, and the lips that had been framing a cruel retort merely +gave utterance to a quiet acquiescence. + +"All right. I'll send her round in five minutes." + +And Diane went into the house at once. + +Meanwhile, a great discussion of young Orr's affairs was going on at +the bunkhouse. Arizona had vacated his favorite seat, and was now +holding the floor. His pale face was flushed with a hectic glow of +excitement. He was taxing his little stock of strength to the +uttermost, and, at least, some of those looking on listening to him +knew it. + +"I tell you ther' ain't nothin' fer it but to roll up to old blind +hulks an' ast him to send us out. Ef this dog-gone skunk's let be, +ther' ain't no stock safe. Guess I've had my med'cine from 'em, and +I'm jest crazy fer more. I've had to do wi' fellers o' their kidney +'fore, I guess. We strung six of 'em up in a day on the same tree down +Arizona way, as that gray-headed possum, Joe Nelson, well remembers. +Say, we jest cleaned our part o' that country right quick. Guess ther' +wa'n't a 'bad man' wuth two plugs o' nickel chawin' around when we'd +finished gettin' 'em. Say, this feller's played it long enough, an' +I'm goin' right now to see the boss. He's around. Who's comin'?" + +"Yes, an' Archie Orr's a pore sort o' crittur to git left wi' two +women-folk," said Raw Harris, rising from his upturned bucket and +putting forth his argument, regardless of its irrelevance. "Not a +stick to shelter him--which I mean 'them.' An' not a dog-gone cent +among 'em. By G----, Arizona's right." + +"That's it," put in Joe Nelson; "you've hit it. Not a dog-gone cent +among 'em, an', what's more, owin' blind hulks a whole heap o' bills +on mortgage. Say, that was mostly a weak move him askin' the boss fer +help. Why, I guess old Marbolt hates hisself on'y one shade wuss'n he +hated Manson Orr. Say, boys, ef we're askin' to lynch Red Mask, we +ain't askin' in any fancy name like 'Orr.' Savee?" + +There was silence for a moment while they digested the wisdom of the +suggestion. Then Jacob Smith nodded, and Lew Cawley murmured-- + +"Dead gut every time, is Joe." + +This loosened their tongues again until Tresler spoke. + +"See here, boys, you're talking of lynching, and haven't a notion of +how you're going to get your man. Don't even know where to lay hands +on him. Do you think Marbolt's going to turn us all loose on the +war-path? Not he. And how are two or three of us going to get a gang +of ten or twelve? Besides, I believe it'll be easier to get him +without a lynching party. Remember he's no ordinary cattle-rustler. I +say lie low, he'll come our way, and then----" + +"That's it, lie low," broke in Joe Nelson, shaking his gray head over +a pannikin of tea, and softly blowing a clearing among the dead flies +floating on its surface. "Maybe y' ain't heard as the sheriff's come +around Forks. Guess he's fixed a station ther'." + +"He's already done so?" asked Tresler. + +"Yup." + +"By Jove! The very thing, boys. Don't roll up. Don't do any lynching. +The sheriff's the boy for Red Mask." + +But Arizona, backed by Raw Harris, would have none of it. They were of +the old-time stock who understood only old-time methods, and cordially +resented any peaceful solution to the difficulty. They wanted a +lynching, and no argument would dissuade them. And after much +discussion it was Arizona's final word that carried the day. + +"Now, you see, Tresler," he said huskily, for his voice was tired with +sustained effort. "You're the remarkablest smart 'tenderfoot' that +ever I see. Say, you're a right smart daddy--an' I ain't given to +latherin' soap-suds neither. But ther's suthin's I calc'late that no +'tenderfoot,' smart as he may be, is goin' to locate right. Hoss +thieves is hoss thieves, an' needs stringin'. Ther' ain't nuthin' for +it but a rawhide rope fer them fellers. Guess I've seen more'n you've +heerd tell of. Say, boys, who's goin' to see the boss? Guess he's +right ther' on the verandah." + +Though there was no verbal reply as the wild American turned to move +off, there was a general movement to follow him. Raw Harris started +it. Pannikins were set down upon the ground, and, to a man, the rest +followed in their leader's wake. Tresler went too, but he went only +because he knew it would be useless--even dangerous--to hold back. The +general inclination was to follow the lead of this volcanic man. +Besides, he had only voiced that which appealed to them all. The +gospel of restraint was not in their natures. Only Joe Nelson really +endorsed Tresler's opinion. But then Joe was a man who had lived his +youth out, and had acquired that level-headedness from experience +which Tresler possessed instinctively. Besides, he was in touch with +Diane. He had lived more than ten years on that ranch, during which +time he had stood by watching with keenly observant eyes the doings of +the cattle world about him. But he, too, in spite of his own good +reason, moved on to the verandah with the rest. + +And Jake saw the movement and understood, and he reached the verandah +first and warned the blind man of their coming. + +And Tresler's prophecy was more than fulfilled. As they came they saw +the rancher rise from his seat. He faced them, a tall, awesome figure +in his long, full dressing-gown. His large, clean-cut head, his gray, +clipped beard, the long aquiline nose, and, overshadowing all, his +staring, red eyes; even on Arizona he had a damping effect. + +"Well?" he questioned, as the men halted before him. Then, as no +answer was forthcoming, he repeated his inquiry. "Well?" + +And Arizona stepped to the front. "Wal, boss, it's this a-ways," he +began. "These rustlers, I guess----" + +But the blind man cut him short. The frowning brows drew closer over +the sightless eyes, which were focussed upon the cowpuncher with a +concentration more overpowering than if their vision had been +unimpaired. + +"Eh? So you've been listening to young Orr," he said, with a quietness +in marked contrast to the expression of his face. "And you want to get +after them?" Then he shook his head, and the curious depression of his +brows relaxed, and a smile hovered round his mouth. "No, no, boys; +it's useless coming to me. Worse than useless. You, Arizona, should +know better. There are not enough ranches round here to form a +lynching party, if one were advisable. And I can't spare men from +here. Why, to send enough men from here to deal with this gang would +leave my place at their mercy. Tut, tut, it is impossible. You must +see it yourselves." + +"But you've been robbed before, sir," Arizona broke out in protest. + +"Yes, yes." There was a grating of impatience in the blind man's +voice, and the smile had vanished. "And I prefer to be robbed of a few +beeves again rather than run the chance of being burned out by those +scoundrels. I'll have no argument about the matter. I can spare no +hand among you. I'll not police this district for anybody. You +understand--for anybody. I will not stop you--any of you"--his words +came with a subtle fierceness now, and were directed at Arizona--"but +of this I assure you, any man who leaves this ranch to set out on any +wild-goose chase after these rustlers leaves it for good. That's all I +have to say." + +Arizona was about to retort hotly, but Tresler, who was standing close +up to him, plucked at his shirt-sleeve, and, strangely enough, his +interference had its effect. The man glared round, but when he saw who +it was that had interrupted him, he made no further effort to speak. +The wild man of the prairie was feeling the influence of a stronger, +or, at least, a steadier nature than his own. And Jake's lynx eyes +watching saw the movement, and he understood. + +The men moved reluctantly away. Their moody looks and slouching gait +loudly voiced their feelings. No words passed between them until they +were well out of ear-shot. And Tresler realized now the wonderful +power of brain behind the sightless eyes of the rancher. Now, he +understood something of the strength which had fought the battle, +sightless though he was, of those early days; now he comprehended the +man who could employ a man of Jake's character, and have strength +enough to control him. That afternoon's exhibition made a profound +impression on him. + +Their supper was finished before they set out for the house, and now +the men, murmuring, discontented, and filled with resentment against +the rancher, loafed idly around the bunkhouse. They smoked and chewed +and discussed the matter as angry men who are thwarted in their plans +will ever do. Tresler and Joe alone remained quiet. Tresler, for the +reason that a definite plan was gradually forming in his brain out of +the chaos of events, and Joe because he was watching the other for his +own obscure reasons. + +The sun had set when Tresler separated himself from his companions. +Making his way down past the lower corrals he took himself to the +ford. Joe thoughtfully watched him go. + +Seated on a fallen tree-trunk Tresler pondered long and deeply. He was +thinking of Joe's information that the sheriff had at last set up a +station at Forks. Why should he not carry his story to him? Why should +he not take this man into his confidence, and so work out the trapping +of the gang? And, if Jake were---- + +He had no time to proceed further. His thoughts were interrupted by +the sound of wheels, followed, a moment later, by the splash of a +horse crossing the ford. He turned in the direction whence the sound +came, and beheld Bessie hauling a buckboard up the bank of the river; +at the same instant he recognized the only occupant of the vehicle. It +was Diane returning from her errand of mercy. + +Tresler sprang to his feet. He doffed his prairie hat as the +buckboard drew abreast of him. Nor was he unmindful of the sudden +flush that surged to the girl's cheeks as she recognized him. Without +any intention Diane checked the mare, and, a moment later, realizing +what she had done, she urged her on with unnecessary energy. But +Tresler had no desire that she should pass him in that casual fashion, +and, with a disarming smile, hailed her. + +"Don't change a good mind, Miss Marbolt," he cried. + +Whereat the blush returned to the girl's cheek intensified, for she +knew that he had seen her intention. This time, however, she pulled up +decidedly, and turned a smiling face to him. + +"This is better than I bargained for," he went on. "I came here to +think the afternoon's events out, and--I meet you. I had no idea you +were out." + +"I felt that Bess wanted exercise," the girl answered evasively. + +Without asking herself why, Diane felt pleased at meeting this man. +Their first encounter had been no ordinary one. From the beginning he +seemed to link himself with her life. For her their hours of +acquaintance might have been years; years of mutual help and +confidence. However, she gathered her reins up as though to drive on. +Tresler promptly stayed her. + +"No, don't go yet, Miss Marbolt, please. Pleasures that come +unexpectedly are pleasures indeed. I feel sure you will not cast me +back upon my gloomy thoughts." + +Diane let the reins fall into her lap. + +"So your thoughts were gloomy; well, I don't wonder at it. There are +gloomy things happening. I was out driving, and thought I would look +in at Mosquito Reach. It has been razed to the ground." + +"You have been to see--and help--young Orr's mother and sister? I know +it. It was like you, Miss Marbolt," Tresler said, with a genuine look +of admiration at the dark little face so overshadowed by the sun-hat. + +"Don't be so ready to credit me with virtues I do not possess. We +women are curious. Curiosity is one of our most pronounced features. +Poor souls--their home is gone. Utterly--utterly gone. Oh, Mr. +Tresler, what are we to do? We cannot remain silent, and yet--we don't +know. We can prove nothing." + +"And what has become of them--I mean Mrs. Orr and her daughter?" +Tresler asked, for the moment ignoring the girl's question. + +"They have gone into Forks." + +"And food and money?" + +"I have seen to that." Diane shrugged her shoulders to make light of +what she had done, but Tresler would not be put off. + +"Bless you for that," he said, with simple earnestness. "I knew I was +right." Then he reverted abruptly to her question. "But we can do +something; the sheriff has come to Forks." + +"Yes, I know." Diane's tone suddenly became eager, almost hopeful. +"And father knows, and he is going to send in a letter to +Fyles--Sheriff Fyles is the great prairie detective, and is in charge +of Forks--welcoming him, and inviting him out here. He is going to +tell him all he knows of these rustlers, and so endeavor to set him on +their track. Father laughs at the idea of the sheriff catching these +men. He says that they--the rustlers--are no ordinary gang, but clever +men, and well organized. But he thinks that if he gets Fyles around it +will save his property." + +"And your father is wise. Yes, it will certainly have that effect; but +I, too, have a little idea that I have been working at, and--Miss +Marbolt, forgive the seeming impertinence, but I want to discuss Jake +again; this time from a personal point of view. You dislike Jake; +more, you have shown me that you fear him." + +The girl hesitated before replying. This man's almost brusque manner +of driving straight to his point was somewhat alarming. He gave her no +loophole. If she discussed the matter with him at all it must be +fully, or she must refuse to answer him. + +"I suppose I do fear him," she said at last with a sigh. Then her face +suddenly lit up with an angry glow. "I fear him as any girl would fear +the man who, in defiance of her expressed hatred, thrusts his +attentions upon her. I fear him because of father's blindness. I fear +him because he hopes in his secret heart some day to own this ranch, +these lands, all these splendid cattle, our fortune. Father will be +gone then. How? I don't know. And I--I shall be Jake's slave. These +are the reasons why I fear Jake, Mr. Tresler, since you insist on +knowing." + +"I thank you, Miss Marbolt." The gentle tone at once dispelled the +girl's resentment. "You have suspicions which may prove to be right. +It was for this reason I asked you to discuss Jake. One thing more +and I'll have done. This Joe Nelson, he is very shrewd, he is in close +contact with you. How far is he to be trusted?" + +"To any length; with your life, Mr. Tresler," the girl said with +enthusiasm. "Joe is nobody's enemy but his own, poor fellow. I am +ashamed to admit it, but I have long since realized that when things +bother me so that I cannot bear them all alone, it is Joe that I look +to for help. He is so kind. Oh, Mr. Tresler, you cannot understand the +gentleness, the sympathy of his honest old heart. I am very, very fond +of Joe." + +The man abruptly moved from his stand at the side of the buckboard, +and looked along the trail in the direction of the ranch. His action +was partly to check an impulse which the girl's manner had roused in +him, and partly because his quick ears had caught the sound of some +one approaching. He was master of himself in a moment, however, and, +returning, smiled up into the serious eyes before him. + +"Well, Joe shall help me," he said. "He shall help me as he has helped +you. If----" he broke off, listening. Then with great deliberation he +came close up to the buckboard. "Miss--Diane," he said, and the girl's +lids lowered before the earnestness of his gaze, "you shall +never--while I live--be the slave of Jake Harnach." + +Nor had Tresler time to move away before a tall figure rounded the +bend of the trail. In the dusk he mistook the newcomer for Jake, then, +as he saw how slim he was, he realized his mistake. + +The man came right up to the buckboard with swift, almost stealthy +strides. The dark olive of his complexion, the high cheek-bones, the +delicately chiseled, aquiline nose, the perfectly penciled eyebrows +surmounting the quick, keen, handsome black eyes; these things +combined with the lithe, sinuous grace of an admirably poised body +made him a figure of much attraction. + +The man ignored Tresler, and addressed the girl in the buckboard in a +tone that made the former's blood boil. + +"The boss, him raise hell. Him say, 'I mak' her wish she not been born +any more.' Him say, 'Go you, Anton, an' find her, an' you not leave +her but bring her back.' Ho, the boss, your father, he mad. Hah?" The +half-breed grinned, and displayed a flashing set of teeth. "So I go," +he went on, still smiling in his impudent manner. "I look out. I see +the buckboard come down to the river. I know you come. I see from +there back"--he pointed away to the bush--"you talk with this man, an' +I wait. So!" + +Diane was furious. Her gentle brown eyes flashed, and two bright +patches of color burned on her cheeks. The half-breed watched her +carelessly. Turning to Tresler she held out her hand abruptly. + +"Good-night, Mr. Tresler," she said quietly. Then she chirruped to her +light-hearted mare and drove off. + +Anton looked after her. "Sacre!" he cried, with a light shrug. "She is +so mad--so mad. Voila!" and he leisurely followed in the wake of the +buckboard. + +And Tresler looked after him. Then it was that his thoughts reverted +to the scene in the saloon at Forks. So this was Anton--"Black" +Anton--the man who had slid into the country without any one knowing +it. He remembered Slum Ranks's words and description. This was the man +who had the great Jake's measure. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +WHICH DEALS WITH THE MATTER OF DRINK + + +Although the murder of Manson Orr caused a wide-spread outcry, it +ended at that in so far as the inhabitants of the district were +concerned. There were one or two individuals who pondered deeply on +the matter, and went quietly about a careful investigation, and of +these Tresler was the most prominent. He found excuse to visit the +scene of the outrage; he took interest in the half-breed settlement +six miles out from Mosquito Bend. He hunted among the foot-hills, even +into the obscurer confines of the mountains; and these doings of his +were the result of much thought, and the work of much time and +ingenuity; for everything had to be done without raising the suspicion +of anybody on the ranch, or for that matter, off it. Being a "green" +hand helped him. It was really astonishing how easily an intelligent +man like Tresler could get lost; and yet such was the deplorable fact. +Even Arizona's opinion of him sank to zero, while Jake found a wide +scope for his sneering brutality. + +As the days lengthened out into a week, and then a fortnight passed +and nothing more was heard of Red Mask, the whole matter began to pass +out of mind, and gradually became relegated to the lore of the +country. It was added to the already long list of barroom stories, to +be narrated, with embellishments, by such men as Slum or the worthy +Forks carpenter. + +The only thing that stuck in people's minds, and that only because it +added fuel to an already deep, abiding, personal hatred, was the story +of Julian Marbolt's treatment of young Archie Orr, and his refusal to +inaugurate a vigilance party. The blind man's name, always one to +rouse the roughest side of men's tongues, was now cursed more bitterly +than ever. + +And during these days the bunkhouse at Mosquito Bend seethed with +revolt. But though this was so, underneath all their most bitter +reflections the men were not without a faint hope of seeing the career +of these desperadoes cut short; and this hope sprang from the +knowledge of the coming of the sheriff to Forks. The faith of Arizona +and the older hands in the official capacity for dealing with these +people was a frail thing, but the younger set were less sceptical. + +And at last Julian Marbolt's tardy invitation to Fyles was despatched. +Tresler had watched and waited for the sending of that letter; he had +hoped to be the bearer of it himself. It would have given him the +opportunity of making this Fyles's acquaintance, which was a matter he +desired to accomplish as soon as possible, without drawing public +attention to the fact. But in this he was disappointed, for Jake sent +Nelson. Nor did he know of the little man's going until he saw him +astride of his buckskin "shag-an-appy," with the letter safely +bestowed in his wallet. + +This was not the only disappointment he experienced during that +fortnight. He saw little or nothing of Diane. To Tresler, at least, +their meeting at the ford was something more than a recollection. +Every tone of the girl's voice, every look, every word she had spoken +remained with him, as these things will at the dawn of love. Many +times he tried to see her, but failed. Then he learned the meaning of +their separation. One day Joe brought him a note from Diane, in which +she told him how Black Anton had returned to her father and poured +into his only too willing ears a wilfully garbled story of their +meeting at the ford. She told him of her father's anger, and how he +had forbidden her to leave the house unattended by at least one of his +two police--Anton and Jake. This letter made its recipient furious, +but it also started a secret correspondence between them, Joe Nelson +proving himself perfectly willing to act as go-between. And this +correspondence was infinitely pleasant to Tresler. He treasured +Diane's letters with a jealous care, making no attempt to disguise the +truth from himself. He knew that he was falling hopelessly in +love--had fallen hopelessly in love. + +This was the position when the evening of the day came on which the +rancher's invitation to Fyles had been despatched. The supper hash had +been devoured by healthy men with healthy appetites. Work was +practically over, there was nothing more to be done but feed, water, +and bed down the horses. And Joe Nelson had not yet returned from +Forks; he was at least five hours overdue. + +Arizona, practically recovered from his wound, was carefully soaping +his saddle, and generally preparing his accoutrements for return to +full work on the morrow. He had grown particularly sour and irritable +with being kept so long out of the saddle. His volcanic temper had +become even more than usually uncertain. + +His convalescence threw him a good deal into Tresler's company, and a +sort of uncertain friendship had sprung up between them. Arizona at +first tolerated him, protested scathingly at his failures in the +craft, and ended by liking him; while the other cordially appreciated +the open, boisterous honesty of the cowpuncher. He was equally ready +to do a kindly action, or smite the man hip and thigh who chanced to +run foul of him. Tresler often told him that his nationality was a +mistake, that instead of being an American he should have been born in +Ireland. + +Just now the prospect of once more getting to work had put Arizona +in high good temper, and he took his comrades' rough chaff +good-naturedly, giving as good as he got, and often a little better. + +Jacob Smith had been watching him for some time, and a thoughtful grin +had quietly taken possession of his features. + +"Soapin' yer saddle," he observed at last, as the lean man happened to +look up and see the grinning face in the doorway of the bunkhouse. +"Guess saddles do git kind o' slippery when you ain't slung a leg over +one fer a whiles. Say, best soap the knees o' yer pants too, Arizona. +Mebbe y'll sit tighter." + +"Wal," retorted Arizona, bending to his work again, "I do allow ther's +more savee in that tip than most gener'ly slobbers off'n your tongue. +I'll kind o' turn it over some." + +Jacob's grin broadened. "Guess I should. Your plug ain't been saddled +sence you wus sent sick. Soft soap ain't gener'ly in your line; makes +me laff to see you handlin' it." + +"That's so," observed the other, imperturbably. "I 'lows it has its +uses. 'Tain't bad fer washin'. Guess you ain't tried it any?" + +At that moment Raw Harris came across from the barn. He lounged over +to an upturned box and sat down. + +"Any o' you fellers seen Joe Nelson along yet?" he asked as he +leisurely filled his pipe. + +"Five hours overdue," said Tresler, who was cleaning out the chambers +of his revolver. + +"Joe ain't likely to git back this night," observed Arizona. "He's a +terror when he gits alongside a saloon. Guess he's drank out one ranch +of his own down Texas way. He's the all-firedest bag o' tricks I've +ever see. Soft as a babby is Joe. Honest? Wal, I'd smile. Joe's that +honest he'd give up his socks ef the old sheep came along an' claimed +the wool. Him an' me's worked together 'fore. He's gittin' kind o' +old, an' ain't as handy as he used to be. Say, he never told you 'bout +that temperator feller, Tresler, did he?" + +Tresler shook his head, and paused in his work to relight his pipe. + +"It kind o' minds me to tell you sence we're talkin' o' Joe. It likely +shows my meanin' when I sez he's that soft an' honest, an' yet crazy +fer drink. You see, it wus this a-ways. I wus kind o' foreman o' the +'U bar U's' in Canada, an' Joe wus punchin' cows then. The boys wus +sheer grit; good hands, mind you, but sudden-like." + +Arizona ceased plastering the soap on his saddle and stood erect. His +gaunt figure looked leaner than ever, but his face was alight with +interest in the story he was about to narrate, and his great wild eyes +were shining with a look that suggested a sort of fierce amusement. +Teddy Jinks lounged into view and stood propped against an angle of +the building. + +"Git on," said Lew, between the puffs at his pipe. + +Arizona shot a quick, disdainful glance at the powerful figure of the +parson's progeny, and went on in his own peculiar fashion fashion-- + +"Wal, it so happened that the records o' the 'U bar U's' kind o' got +noised abroad some, as they say in the gospel. Them coyotes as +reckoned they wus smart 'lowed as even the cattle found a shortage o' +liquid by reason of an onnatural thirst on that ranch. Howsum, mebbe +ther' wus reason. Old Joe, he wus the daddy o' the lot. Jim Marlin +used to say as Joe most gener'ly used a black lead when he writ his +letters; didn't fancy wastin' ink. Mebbe that's kind o' zaggerated, +but I guess he wus the next thing to a fact'ry o' blottin' paper, +sure. + +"Wal, I reckon some bald-faced galoot got yappin', leastways there wus +a temperance outfit come right along an' lay hold o' the boss. Say, +flannel-mouthed orators! I guess that feller could roll out more juicy +notions on the subject o' drink in five minutes than a high-pressure +locomotive could blow off steam through a five-inch leak in ha'f a +year. He wus an eddication in langwidge, sir, sech as 'ud per-suade a +wall-eyed mule to do what he didn't want, and wa'n't goin' to do +anyways. + +"I corralled the boys up in the yard, an' the feller got good an' +goin'. He spotted Joe right off; fixed him wi' his eye an' focussed +him dead centre, an' talked right at him. An' Joe wus iled--that iled +he couldn't keep a straight trail fer slippin'. Say, speakin' +metaphoric, that feller got the drop on pore Joe. He give him a dose +o' syllables in the pit o' the stummick that made him curl, then he +follered it right up wi' a couple o' slugs o' his choicest, 'fore he +could straighten up. Then he sort o' picked him up an' shook him with +a power o' langwidge, an' sot him down like a spanked kid. Then he +clouted him over both lugs with a shower o' words wi' capitals, +clumped him over the head wi' a bunch o' texts, an' thrashed him wi' a +fact'ry o' trac' papers. Say, I guess pore Joe wouldn't 'a' rec'nized +the flavor o' whisky from blue pizen when that feller had done; an' we +jest looked on, feelin' 'bout as happy as a lot o' old hens worritin' +to hatch out a batch o' Easter eggs. Say, pore Joe wus weepin' over +his sins, an' I guess we wus all 'most ready to cry. Then the feller +up an' sez, 'Fetch out the pernicious sperrit, the nectar o' the +devil, the waters o' the Styx, the vile filth as robs homes o' their +support, an' drives whole races to perdition!' an' a lot o' other big +talk. An', say, we fetched! Yes, sir, we fetched like a lot o' silly, +skippin' lambs. We brought out six bottles o' the worstest rotgut +ever faked in a settlement saloon, an' handed it over. After that I +guess we wus feelin' better. Sez we, feelin' kind o' mumsy over the +whole racket, it ain't right, we sez, to harbor no sperrit-soaked, +liver-pickled tag of a decent citizen's life around this layout; an' +so we took Joe Nelson to the river and diluted him. After that I 'lows +we lay low. I did hear as some o' the boys said their prayers that +night, which goes to show as they wus feelin' kind o' thin an' mean. +Ther' wa'n't a feller ther' but wus dead swore off fer a week. + +"Guess it wus most the middle o' the night when Jim Yard comes to my +shack an' fetched me out. He told me there wus a racket goin' on in +the settlement. That temperator wus down ther' blazin' drunk an' +shootin' up the town. Say, I felt kind o' hot at that. Yup, pretty +sulphury an' hot, an' I went right out, quiet like, and fetched the +boys. Them as had said their prayers wus the first to join me. Wal, we +went along an' did things with that.--Ah, guess Jake's comin' this +way; likely he wants somethin'." + +Arizona turned abruptly to his saddle again, while all eyes looked +over at the approaching foreman. Jake strode up. Arizona took no +notice of him. It was his way of showing his dislike for the man. Jake +permitted one glance--nor was it a friendly one--in his direction, +then he went straight over to where Tresler was sitting. + +"Get that mare of yours saddled, Tresler," he said, "and ride into +Forks. You'll fetch out that skulkin' coyote, Joe Nelson. You'll fetch +him out, savee? Maybe he's at the saloon--sure he's drunk, anyway. +An' if he ain't handed over that letter to the sheriff, you'll see to +it. Say, you'd best shake him up some; don't be too easy." + +"I'll bring him out," replied Tresler, quietly. + +"Hah, kind o' squeamish," sneered Jake. + +"No. I'm not knocking drunken men about. That's all." + +"Wal, go and bring him out," snarled the giant. "I'll see to the +rest." + +Tresler went off to the barn without another word. His going was +almost precipitate, but not from any fear of Jake. It was himself he +feared. This merciless brute drove him to distraction every time he +came into contact with him, and the only way he found it possible to +keep the peace with him at all was by avoiding him, by getting out of +his way, by shutting him out of mind, whenever it was possible. + +In a few minutes he had set out. His uneasy mare was still only half +tamed, and very fresh. She left the yards peaceably enough, but jibbed +at the river ford. The inevitable thrashing followed, Tresler knowing +far too much by now to spare her. Just for one moment she seemed +inclined to submit and behave herself, and take to the water kindly. +Then her native cussedness asserted itself; she shook her head +angrily, and caught the bar of the spade-bit in her great, strong +teeth, swung round, and, stretching her long ewe neck, headed south +across country as hard as she could lay heels to the ground. + +Tresler fought her every foot of the way, but it was useless. The +devil possessed her, and she worked her will on him. By the time he +should have reached Forks he was ten miles in the opposite direction. + +However, he was not the man to take such a display too kindly, and, +having at length regained control, he turned her back and pressed her +to make up time. And it made him smile, as he rode, to feel the swing +of the creature's powerful strides under him. He could not punish her +by asking for pace, and he knew it. She seemed to revel in a rapid +journey, and the extra run taken on her own account only seemed to +have warmed her up to even greater efforts. + +It was nearly ten o'clock when he drew near Forks; and the moon had +only just risen. The mare was docile enough now, and raced along with +her ears pricked and her whole fiery disposition alert. + +The trail approached Forks from the west. That is to say, it took a +big bend and entered on the western side. Already Tresler could see +the houses beyond the trees silhouetted in the moonlight, but the +nearer approach was bathed in shadow. The trail came down from a +rising ground, cutting its way through the bush, and, passing the +lights of the saloon, went on to the market-place. + +He checked the mare's impetuosity as he came down the slope. She was +too valuable for him to risk her legs. With all her vices, he knew +there was not a horse on the ranch that could stand beside the Lady +Jezebel on the trail. + +She propped jerkily as she descended the hill. Every little rustle of +the lank grass startled her, and gave her excuse for frivolity. Her +rider was forced to keep a watchful eye and a close seat. A shadowy +kit fox worried her with its stealthy movements. It kept pace with her +in its silent, ghostly way, now invisible in the long grass, now in +full view beside the trail; but always abreast. + +Half-way down the trail both horse and rider were startled seriously. +A riderless horse, saddled and bridled, dashed out of the darkness and +galloped across them. Of her own accord Lady Jezebel swung round, and, +before Tresler could check her, had set off in hot pursuit. For once +horse and rider were of the same mind, and Tresler bent low in the +saddle, ready to grab at the bridle when his mare should overhaul the +stranger. + +In less than a minute they were abreast of their quarry. The +stranger's reins were hanging broken from the bit, and Tresler grabbed +at them. Nor could he help a quiet laugh, when, on pulling up, he +recognized the buckskin pony and quaint old stock saddle of Joe +Nelson. And he at once became alive to the necessity of his journey. +What, he wondered, had happened to the little choreman? + +Leading the captive, he rode back to the trail and pushed on toward +the village. But his adventures were not over yet. At the bottom of +the hill the mare, brought up to a stand, reared and shied violently. +Then she stood trembling like an aspen, seizing every opportunity to +edge from the trail, and all the while staring with wild, dilated eyes +away out toward the bush on the right front. Her rider followed the +direction of her gaze to ascertain the cause of the trouble. For some +minutes he could distinguish nothing unusual in the darkness. The moon +had not as yet attained much power, and gave him very little +assistance; but, realizing the wonderful acuteness of a horse's +vision, he decided that there nevertheless was something to be +investigated. So he dismounted, and adopting the common prairie method +of scanning the sky-line, he dropped to the ground. + +For some time his search was quite vain, and only the mare's nervous +state encouraged him. Then at length, low down in the deep shadow of +the bush, something caught and held his attention. Something was +moving down there. + +He lay quite still, watching intently. Something of the mare's nervous +excitement gripped him. The movement was ghostly. It was only a +movement. There was nothing distinct to be seen, nothing tangible; +just a weird, nameless something. A dozen times he asked himself what +it was. But the darkness always baffled him, and he could find no +answer. He had an impression of great flapping wings--such wings as +might belong to a giant bat. The movement was sufficiently regular to +suggest this, but the idea carried no conviction. There, however, his +conjectures ended. + +At last he sprang up with a sharp ejaculation, and his hand went to +his revolver. The thing, or creature, whatever it was, was coming +slowly but steadily toward him. Had he not been sure of this, the +attitude of the horses would have settled the question for him. Lady +Jezebel pulled back in the throes of a wild fear, and the buckskin +plunged madly to get free. + +He had hardly persuaded them to a temporary calmness, when a mournful +cry, rising in a wailing crescendo, split the air and died away +abruptly. And he knew that it came from the advancing "movement." + +And now it left the shadow and drew out into the moonlight. And the +man watching beheld a dark heap distinctly outlined midway toward the +bush. The wings seemed to have folded themselves, or, at least, to +have lowered, and were trailing on the ground in the creature's wake. +Presently the whole thing ceased to move, and sat still like a great +loathsome toad--a silent, uncanny heap amidst the lank prairie grass. +And somehow he felt glad that it was no longer approaching. + +The moments crept by, and the position remained unchanged. Then +slowly, with an air of settled purpose, the creature raised itself on +its hind legs, and, swaying and shuffling, continued its advance. In +an instant Tresler's revolver leapt from its holster, and he was ready +to defend himself. The attitude was familiar to him. He had read +stories of the bears in the Rockies, and they came home to him now as +he saw his adversary rear itself to its full height. His puzzlement +was over; he understood now. He was dealing with a large specimen of +the Rocky Mountain grizzly. + +Yes, there could be no mistaking the swaying gait, the curious, +snorting breathing, the sadly lolling head and slow movements. He +remembered each detail with an exactness which astonished him, and was +thrilled with the bristling sensation which assails every hunter when +face to face with big game for the first time in his life. + +He raised his gun, and took a long, steady aim, measuring the distance +with deliberation, and selecting the animal's breast for his shot. +Then, just as he was about to fire, the brute's head turned and caught +the cold, sharp moonlight full upon its face. There was a momentary +flash of white, and Tresler's gun was lowered as though it had been +struck down. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +JOE NELSON INDULGES IN A LITTLE MATCH-MAKING + + +The moonlight had revealed the grotesque features of Joe Nelson! + +Tresler returned his gun to its holster precipitately, and his action +had in it all the chagrin of a man who has been "had" by a practical +joker. His discomfiture, however, quickly gave way before the humor of +the situation, and he burst into a roar of laughter. + +He laughed while he watched his bear drop again to his hands and +knees, and continue to crawl toward him, till the tears rolled down +his cheeks. On came the little fellow, enveloped in the full embracing +folds of a large brown blanket, and his silent dogged progress warned +Tresler that, as yet, his own presence was either unrealized or +ignored in the earnestness of his unswerving purpose. And the nature +of that purpose--for Tresler had fully realized it--was the most +laughable thing of all. Joe was stalking his buckskin pony with the +senseless cunning of a drunken man. + +At last the absurdity of the position became too much, and he hailed +the little choreman in the midst of his laughter. + +"Ho! You, Joe!" he called. "What the blazes d'you think you're doing?" + +There was no reply. For all heed the man under the blanket gave, he +might have been deaf, dumb and blind. He just came steadily on. + +Tresler shouted again, and more sharply. This time his summons had its +effect. It brought an answer--an answer that set him off into a fresh +burst of laughter. + +"Gorl darn it, boys," came a peevish voice, from amidst the blanket, +"'tain't smart, neither, playin' around when a feller's kind o' +roundin' up his plug. How'm I goin' to cut that all-fired buckskin out +o' the bunch wi' you gawkin' around like a reg'ment o' hoboes? Ef you +don't reckon to fool any, why, some o' you git around an' head him off +from the rest of 'em. I'd do it myself on'y my cussed legs has given +out." + +"Boys, eh?" Tresler was still laughing, but he checked his mirth +sufficiently to answer, "Why, man, it's the whisky that's fooling you. +There are no 'boys,' and no 'bunch' of horses here. Just your horse +and mine; and I've got them both safe enough. You're drunk, +Joe--beastly drunk." + +Joe suddenly struggled to his feet and stood swaying uncertainly, but +trying hard to steady himself. He focussed his eyes with much effort +upon the tall figure before him, and then suddenly moved forward like +a man crossing a brook on a single, narrow, and dangerously swaying +plank. He all but pitched headlong into the waiting man as he reached +him, and would undoubtedly have fallen to the ground but for the aid +of a friendly hand thrust out to catch him. And while Tresler turned +to pacify the two thoroughly frightened horses, the little man's angry +tones snapped out at him in what was intended for a dignified +protest. In spite of his drunken condition, his words were distinct +enough, though his voice was thick. After all, as he said, it was his +legs that had given way. + +"Guess you're that blazin' 'tenderfoot' Tresler," he said, with all +the sarcasm he was capable of at the moment. "Wal, say, Mr. a'mighty +Tresler, ef it wa'n't as you wus a 'tenderfoot,' I'd shoot you fer +sayin' I wus drunk. Savee? You bein' a 'tenderfoot,' I'll jest mention +you're side-tracked, you're most on the scrap heap, you've left the +sheer trail an' you're ditched. You've hit a gait you can't travel, +an' don't amount to a decent, full-sized jackass. Savee? I ain't +drunk. It's drink; see? Carney's rotgut. I tell you right here I'm +sober, but my legs ain't. Mebbe you're that fool-headed you don't +savee the difference." + +Tresler restrained a further inclination to laugh. He had wasted too +much time already, and was anxious to get back to the ranch. He quite +realized that Joe knew what he was about, if his legs were +_hors-de-combat_, for, after delivering himself of this, his +unvarnished opinion, he wisely sought the safer vantage-ground of a +sitting posture. + +Tresler grabbed at the blanket and pulled it off his shoulders. + +"What's this?" he asked sharply. + +Joe looked up, his little eyes sparkling with resentment. + +"'Tain't yours, anyway," he said. Then he added with less anger, and +some uncertainty, "Guess I slept some down at the bushes. Durned plug +got busy 'stead o' waitin' around. The fool hoss ain't got no manners +anyways." + +"Manners? Don't blither." Tresler seized him by the coat collar and +yanked him suddenly upon his feet. "Now, hand over that letter to +Sheriff Fyles. I've orders to deliver it myself." + +Joe's twisted face turned upward with a comical expression of +perplexity. The moonlight caught his eyes, and he blinked. Then he +looked over at the horses, and, shaking his head solemnly, began to +fumble at his pockets. + +"S-Sheriff F-Fyles," he answered doubtfully. He seemed to have +forgotten the very name. "F-Fyles?" he repeated again. "Letter? Say, +now, I wus kind o' wonderin' what I cum to Forks fer. Y' see I mostly +git around Forks fer Carney's rotgut. Course, ther' wus a letter. Jest +wher' did I put that now?" He became quite cheerful as he probed his +pockets. + +Tresler waited until, swaying and even stumbling in the process, he +had turned out two pockets; then his impatience getting the better of +him, he proceeded to conduct the search himself. + +"Now see here," he said firmly, "I'll go through your pockets. If +you've lost it, there'll be trouble for you when you get back. If +you'd only kept clear of that saloon you would have been all right." + +"That's so," said Joe humbly, as he submitted to the other's search. + +Tresler proceeded systematically. There was nothing but tobacco and +pipe in the outside pockets of his coat. His trousers revealed a +ten-cent piece and a dollar bill, which the choreman thanked him +profusely for finding, assuring him, regretfully, that he wouldn't +have left the saloon if he had known he had it. The inside pocket of +the coat was drawn blank of all but a piece of newspaper, and Tresler +pronounced his verdict in no measured terms. + +"You drunken little fool, you've lost it," he said, as he held out the +unfolded newspaper. + +Joe seemed past resentment with his fresh trouble. He squinted hard to +get the newspaper into proper focus. + +"Say," he observed meekly, "I guess it wus in that, sure. Sure, yes," +he nodded emphatically, "I planted it that a-ways to kep it from the +dirt. I 'member readin' the headin' o' that paper. Et wus 'bout some +high-soundin' female in New Yo----" + +"Confound it!" Tresler was more distressed for the little man than +angry with him. He knew Jake would be furious, and cast about in his +mind for excuses that might save him. The only one he could think of +was feeble enough, but he suggested it. + +"Well, there's only one thing to do; we must ride back, and you can +say you lost the letter on the way out, and have spent the day looking +for it." + +Joe seemed utterly dejected. "Sure, yes. There's on'y one thing to +do," he murmured disconsolately. "We must ride back. Say, you're sure, +plumb sure it ain't in one of my pockets? Dead sure I must 'a' lost +it?" + +"No doubt of it. Damn it, Joe, I'm sorry. You'll be in a deuce of a +scrape with Jake. It's all that cursed drink." + +"That's so," murmured the culprit mournfully. His face was turned +away. Now it suddenly brightened as though a fresh and more hopeful +view of the matter had presented itself, and his twisted features +slowly wreathed themselves into a smile. His deep-set eyes twinkled +with an odd sort of mischievous humor as he raised them abruptly to +the troubled face of his companion. + +"Guess I kind o' forgot to tell you. I gave the sheriff that letter +this mornin' 'fore I called on Carney. Mebbe, ef I'd told you 'fore +I'd 'a' saved you----" + +"You little----" + +Tresler could find no words to express his exasperation. He made a +grab at the now grinning man's coat collar, seized him, and, lifting +him bodily, literally threw him on to the back of his buckskin pony. + +"You little old devil!" he at last burst out; "you stay there, and +back you go to the ranch. I'll shake the liquor out of you before we +get home." + +Tresler sprang into his saddle, and, turning his mare's head homeward, +led the buckskin and its drunken freight at a rattling pace. And Joe +kept silence for a while. He felt it was best so. But, in the end, he +was the first to speak, and when he did so there was a quiet dryness +in his tone that pointed all he said. + +"Say, Tresler, I'm kind o' sorry you wus put to all that figgerin' an' +argyment," he said, shaking up his old pony to bring him alongside the +speedy mare. "Y' see ye never ast me 'bout that letter. Kind o' jumped +me fer a fool-head at oncet. Which is most gener'ly the nature o' boys +o' your years. Conclusions is mostly hasty, but I 'lows they're +reas'nable in their places--which is last. An' I sez it wi'out +offense, ther' ain't a blazin' thing born in this world that don't +reckon to con-clude fer itself 'fore it's rightly begun. Everything +needs teachin', from a 'tenderfoot' to a New York babby." + +Joe's homily banished the last shadow of Tresler's ill-humor. The +little man had had the best of him in his quiet, half-drunken manner; +a manner which, though rough, was still irresistible. + +"That's all right, Joe. I'm no match for you," he said with a laugh. +"But, setting jokes on one side, I think you're in for trouble with +Jake. I saw it in his eye before I started out." + +"I don't think. Guess I'm plumb sure," Joe replied quietly. + +"Then why on earth did you do it?" + +Joe humped his back with a movement expressive of unconcern. + +"It don't matter why. Jake's nigh killed me ha'f a dozen times. One o' +these days he'll fix me sure. He'll lace hell out o' me to-morrow, I'm +guessin', an' when it's done it won't alter nothin' anyways. I've jest +two things in this world, I notion, an'--one of 'em's drink. 'Tain't +no use in sayin' it ain't, 'cos I guess my legs is most unnateral +truthful 'bout drink. Say, I don't worrit no folk when I'm drunk; +guess I don't interfere wi' no one's consarns when I'm drunk; I'm jest +kind o' happy when I'm drunk. Which bein' so, makes it no one's +bizness but my own. I do it 'cos I gits a heap o' pleasure out o' it. +I know I ain't worth hell room. But I got my notions, an' I ain't +goin' ter budge fer no one." Joe's slantwise mouth was set +obstinately; his little eyes flashed angrily in the moonlight, and his +whole attitude was one of a man combating an argument which his soul +is set against. + +As Tresler had no idea of arguing the question and remained silent, +the choreman went on in a modified tone of morbid self-sympathy +sympathy-- + +"When the time comes around I'll hand over my checks wi'out no fuss +nor botheration; guess I'll cash in wi' as much grit as George +Washington. I don't calc'late as life is wuth worritin' over anyways. +We don't ast to be born, an', comin' into the world wi'out no +by-your-leave, I don't figger as folks has a right to say we've got to +take a hand in any bluff we don't notion." + +"Perhaps you've a certain amount of right on your side." Tresler felt +that this hopeless pessimism was rather the result of drink than +natural to him. "But you said you had two things that you considered +worth living for?" + +"That's so. I ain't goin' back on what I said. It's jest that other +what set me yarnin'. Say, guess you're mostly a pretty decent feller, +Tresler, though I 'lows you has failin's. You're kind o' young. Now I +guess you ain't never pumped lead into the other feller, which the +same he's doin' satisfact'ry by you? You kind o' like most fellers?" + +Tresler nodded. + +"Jest so. But I've noticed you don't fancy folks as gits gay wi' you. +You kind o' make things uneasy. Wal, that's a fault you'll git over. +Mebbe, later on, when a feller gits rilin' you you'll work your gun, +instead of trying to thump savee into his head. Heads is mighty +cur'us out west here. They're so chock full o' savee, ther' ain't no +use in thumpin' more into 'em. Et's a heap easier to let it out. But +that's on the side. I most gener'ly see things, an' kind o' notice +fellers, an' that's how I sized you up. Y' see I've done a heap o' +settin' around M'skeeter Bend fer nigh on ten years, mostly watchin'. +Now, mebbe, y' ain't never sot no plant, an' bedded it gentle wi' +sifted mould, an' watered it careful, an' sot right ther' on a box, +an' watched it grow in a spot wher' ther' wa'n't no bizness fer +anythin' but weeds?" + +Tresler shook his head, wonderingly. + +"No; guess not," Joe went on. "Say," he added, turning and looking +earnestly into his companion's face, "I'm settin' on that box right +now. Yes, sir, I've watched that plant grow. I've picked the stones +out so the young shoots could git through nice an' easy-like. I've +watered it. I've washened the leaves when the blights come along. I've +sticked it against the winds. I've done most everythin' I could, usin' +soap-suds and soot waters, an' all them tasty liquids to coax it on. +I've sot ther' a-smilin' to see the lovesome buds come along an' open +out, an' make the air sweet wi' perfumes an' color an' things. I've +sot right ther' an' tho't an' tho't a heap o' tho'ts around that +flower, an' felt all crinkly up the back wi' pleasure. An' I ain't +never wanted ter leave that box. No, sir, an' the days wus bright, an' +nothin' seemed amiss wi' life nor nothin'. But I tell you it ain't no +good. No, sir, 'tain't no good, 'cos I ain't got the guts to git up +an' dig hard. I've reached out an' pulled a weed or two, but them +weeds had got a holt on that bed 'fore I sot the seedlin', an' they've +growed till my pore flower is nigh to be choked. 'Tain't no use +watchin' when weeds is growin'. It wants a feller as can dig; an' I +guess I ain't that feller. Say, ther's mighty hard diggin' to be done +right now, an' the feller as does it has got to do it standin' right +up to the job. Savee? I'm sayin' right now to you, Tresler, them weeds +is chokin' the life out o' her. She's mazed up wi' 'em. Ther' ain't no +escape. None. Her life's bound to be hell anyways." + +"Her? Whom?" Tresler asked the question, but he knew that Joe was +referring to Diane; Diane's welfare was his other interest in life. + +The little man turned with a start "Eh? Miss Dianny--o' course." + +"And the weeds?" + +"Jake--an' her father." + +And the two men became silent, while their horses ambled leisurely on +toward home. It was Tresler who broke the silence at last. + +"And this is the reason you've stayed so long on the ranch?" he asked. + +"Mebbe. I don't reckon as I could 'a' done much," Joe answered +hopelessly. "What could a drunken choreman do anyways? Leastways the +pore kid hadn't got no mother, an' I guess ther' wa'n't a blazin' soul +around as she could yarn her troubles to. When she got fixed, I guess +ther' wa'n't no one to put her right. And when things was hatchin', +ther' wa'n't no one to give her warnin' but me. 'What is the trouble?' +you ast," the little man went on gloomily. "Trouble? Wal, I'd smile. +Ther' ain't nothin' but trouble around M'skeeter Bend, sure. Trouble +for her--trouble all round. Her trouble's her father, an' Jake. Jake's +set on marryin' her. Jake," in a tone of withering scorn, "who's only +fit to mate wi' a bitch wolf. An' her father--say, he hates her. Hates +her like a neche hates a rattler. An' fer why? Gawd only knows; I +ain't never found out. Say, that gal is his slave, sure. Ef she raises +her voice, she gits it. Not, I guess, as Jake handles me, but wi' the +sneakin' way of a devil. Say, the things he does makes me most ready +to cry like a kid. An' all the time he threatens her wi' Jake fer a +husband. An' she don't never complain. Not she; no sir. You don't know +the blind hulks, Tresler; but ther', it ain't no use in gassin'. He +don't never mean her fer Jake, an' I guess she knows it. But she's +plumb scared, anyways." + +Tresler contemplated the speaker earnestly in the moonlight. He +marveled at the quaint outward form of the chivalrous spirit within. +He was trying to reconcile the antagonistic natures of which this +strange little bundle of humanity was made up. For ten years Joe had +put up with the bullying and physical brutality of Jake Harnach, so +that, in however small a way, he might help to make easy the rough +life-path of a lonely girl. And his motives were all unselfish. A +latent chivalry held him which no depths of drunkenness could drown. +He leant over and held out his hand. + +"Joe," he said, "I want to shake hands with you and call you my +friend." + +The choreman held back for a moment in some confusion. Then, as though +moved by sudden impulse, he gripped the hand so cordially offered. + +"But I ain't done yet," he said a moment later. He had no wish to +advertise his own good deeds. He was pleading for another. Some one +who could not plead for herself. His tone had assumed a roughness +hardly in keeping with the gentle, reflective manner in which he had +talked of his "flower." "Tresler," he went on, "y're good stuff, but +y' ain't good 'nough to dust that gal's boots, no--not by a sight. +Meanin' no offense. But she needs the help o' some one as'll dig at +them weeds standin'. See? Which means you. I can't tell you all I +know, I can't tell you all I've seed. One o' them things--I guess on'y +one--is that Jake's goin' to best blind hulks an' force him into +givin' him his daughter in marriage, and Gawd help that pore gal. But +I swar to Gawd ef I'm pollutin' this airth on the day as sees Jake +worritin' Miss Dianny, I'll perf'rate him till y' can't tell his +dog-gone carkis from a parlor cinder-sifter." + +"Tell me how I can help, and count me in to the limit," said Tresler, +catching, in his eagerness, something of the other's manner of +expression. + +It was evident by the way the choreman's face lit up at his friend's +words that he had hoped for such support, but feared that he should +not get it. Joe Nelson was distinctly worldly wise, but with a heart +of gold deep down beneath his wisdom. He had made no mistake in this +man whose sympathies he had succeeded in enlisting. He fully +understood that he was dealing with just a plain, honest man, +otherwise he would have kept silence. + +"Wal, I guess ther' ain't a deal to tell." The little man looked +straight ahead toward the dark streak which marked the drop from the +prairie land to the bed of the Mosquito River. "Still, it's li'ble to +come along right smart." + +The man's suggestion puzzled Tresler, but he waited. His own mind was +clear as to what he personally intended, but it seemed to him that Joe +was troubled with other thoughts besides the main object of his +discourse. And it was these very side issues that he was keen to +learn. However, whatever Joe thought, whatever confusion or perplexity +he might have been in, he suddenly returned to his main theme with +great warmth of feeling. + +"But when it comes, Tresler, you'll stand by? You'll plug hard fer +her, jest as ef it was you he was tryin' to do up? You'll stop him? +Say, you'll jest round that gal up into your own corrals, an' set your +own brand on her quick, eh? That's what I'm askin'." + +"I see. Marry her, eh?" + +"An' why not?" asked Joe quickly. "She's a heap too good fer you. +Ther' ain't a feller breathin' amounts to a row o' beans aside o' her. +But it's the on'y way to save her from Jake. You'll do it. Yes, sure, +you'll do it. I ken see it in your face." + +The little fellow was leaning over, peering up into Tresler's face +with anxious, almost fierce eyes. His emotion was intense, and at that +moment a refusal would have driven him to despair. + +"You are too swift for me, Joe," Tresler said quietly. But his tone +seemed to satisfy his companion, for the latter sat back in his saddle +with a sigh of relief. "It takes the consent of two people to make a +marriage. However," he went on, with deep earnestness, "I'll promise +you this, Miss Marbolt shall never marry Jake unless it is her own +wish to do so. And, furthermore, she shall never lack a friend, ready +to act on her behalf, while I am in the country." + +"You've said it." + +And the finality of Joe's tone brought silence. + +In spite of the punishment he knew to be awaiting him, Joe was utterly +happy. It was as though a weight, which had been oppressing him for +years, had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. He would +cheerfully have ridden on to any terror ever conceived by the ruthless +Jake. Diane's welfare--Diane's happiness; it was the key-note of his +life. He had watched. He knew. Tresler was willing enough to marry +her, and she--he chuckled joyfully to himself. + +"Jake ain't a dorg's chance--a yaller dorg's chance. When the +'tenderfoot' gits good an' goin' he'll choke the life out o' Master +Jake. Gee!" + +And Tresler, too, was busy with his thoughts. Joe's suggestion had +brought him face to face with hard fact, and, moreover, in a measure, +he had pledged himself. Now he realized, after having listened to the +little man's story, how much he had fallen in love with Diane. Joe, he +knew, loved her as a father might love his child, or a gardener his +flowers; but his was the old, old story that brought him a delight +such as he felt no one else had ever experienced. Yes, he knew now he +loved Diane with all the strength of his powerful nature; and he knew, +too, that there could be little doubt but that he had fallen a victim +to the beautiful dark, sad face he had seen peering up at him from +beneath the straw sun-hat, at the moment of their first meeting. Would +he marry Diane? Ay--a thousand times ay--if she would have him. But +there it was that he had more doubts than Joe. Would she marry him? he +asked himself, and a chill damped the ardor of his thoughts. + +And so, as they rode on, he argued out the old arguments of the lover; +so he wrestled with all the old doubts and fears. So he became +absorbed in an ardent train of thought which shut out all the serious +issues which he felt, that, for his very love's sake, he should have +probed deeply. So he rode on impervious to the keen, studious, +sidelong glances wise old, drunken old Joe favored him with; +impervious to all, save the flame of love this wild old ranchman had +fanned from a smouldering ember to a living fire; impervious to time +and distance, until the man at his side, now thoroughly sobered, +called his attention to their arrival at the ranch. + +"Say, boy," he observed, "that's the barn yonder. 'Fore we git ther' +ther's jest one thing more. Jake's goin' to play his hand by force. +Savee? Mebbe we've a notion o' that force--Miss Dianny an' me----" + +"Yes, and we must think this thing thoroughly out, Joe. Developments +must be our cue. We can do nothing but wait and be ready. There's the +sheriff----" + +"Eh? Sheriff?" Joe swung round, and was peering up into Tresler's +face. + +"Ah, I forgot." Tresler's expression was very thoughtful. They had +arrived at the barn, and were dismounting. "I was following out my own +train of thought. I agree with you, Joe, Red Mask and his doings are +at the bottom of this business." His voice had dropped now to a low +whisper lest any one should chance to be around. + +Without a word Joe led his horse into the barn, and, off-saddling him, +fixed him up for the night. Tresler did the same for his mare. Then +they came out together. At the door Joe paused. + +"Say," he remarked simply, "I jest didn't know you wus that smart." + +"Don't credit me with smartness. It's--poor little girl." + +"Ah!" Joe's face twisted into his apish grin. "Say, you'll stick to +what you said?" + +"Every word of it." + +"Good; the rest's doin' itself, sure." + +And they went their several ways; Joe to the kitchen of the house, and +Tresler to his dusty mattress in the bunkhouse. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +TRESLER INVOLVES HIMSELF FURTHER; +THE LADY JEZEBEL IN A FREAKISH MOOD + + +Enthusiasm is the mainspring of a cowboy's life. Without enthusiasm a +cowboy inevitably falls to the inglorious level of a "hired man"; a +nice distinction in the social conditions of frontier life. The cowboy +is sometimes a good man--not meaning a man of religion--and often a +bad man. He is rarely indifferent. There are no half measures with +him. His pride is in his craft. He will lavish the tenderness of a +mother for her child upon his horse; he will play poker till he has +had the doubtful satisfaction of seeing his last cent pass into +somebody else's pocket; he will drink on the most generous scale, and +is ever ready to quarrel. Even in this last he believes in +thoroughness. But he has many good points which often outweigh his +baser instincts. They can be left to the imagination; for it is best +to know the worst of him at the outset to get a proper, and not a +glorified estimate of his true character. The object of this story is +to give a veracious, and not a highly gilded picture of the hardy +prairie man of days gone by. + +Before all things the cowboy is a horseman. His pride in this almost +amounts to a craze. His fastidiousness in horse-flesh, in his +accoutrements, his boots, his chapps, his jaunty silk handkerchief +about his neck, even to the gauntlets he so often wears upon his +hands, is an education in dandyism. He is a thorough dandy in his +outfit. And the greater the dandy, the more surely is he a capable +horseman. He is not a horse-breaker by trade, but he loves +"broncho-busting" as a boy loves his recreation. It comes to him as a +relief from the tedium of branding, feeding, rounding up, cutting out, +mending fences, and all the utility work of the ranch. Every unbroken +colt is like a ticket in a lottery; it may be easy, or it may be a +tartar. And the tartar is the prize that every cowpuncher wants to +draw so that he may demonstrate his horsemanship. + +Broncho-busting was the order of the next day at Mosquito Bend, and +all hands were agog, and an element of general cheeriness pervaded the +bunkhouse whilst breakfast was in preparation. Marbolt had obtained a +contract to supply the troops with a large band of remounts, and the +terms demanded that each animal must be saddle-broken. + +Tresler, with the rest, was up betimes. He, too, was going to take his +part in the horse-breaking. While breakfast was in the course of +preparation he went out to overhaul his saddle. There must be no +doubtful straps in his gear. Each saddle would have a heavy part to +play, and his own, being one he had bought second-hand from one of his +comrades, needed looking to. + +He was very thoughtful as he went about his work. His overnight talk +with Joe Nelson had made him realize that he was no longer a +looker-on, a pupil, simply one of the hands on the ranch. Hitherto he +had felt, in a measure, free in his actions. He could do as it pleased +him to do. He could have severed himself from the ranch, and washed +his hands of all that was doing there. Now it was different. Whether +he would or no he must play out his part. He had taken a certain +stand, and that stand involved him with responsibilities which he had +no wish to shirk. + +His saddle was in order, his mare had been rubbed down and fed, and he +was leisurely strolling over to the bunkhouse for breakfast. And as he +passed the foreman's hut he heard Jake's voice from within hailing him +with unwonted cheeriness. + +"Mornin', Tresler," he called out. "Late gettin' in last night." + +Tresler moved over and stood in the doorway. He was wary of the tone, +and answered coolly-- + +"Yes; the mare bolted this side of the ford, and took me ten miles +south. When I got on the Forks trail I met Nelson on his way home." + +"Ah, that mare's the very devil. How are you doin' with her now?" + +"Oh, so, so. She leads me a dance, but I'd rather have her than any +plug you've got on the ranch. She's the finest thing I've ever put a +leg over." + +"Yes, guess that's so. The boss was always struck on her. I kind of +remember when she came. She wasn't bred hereabouts. The old man bought +her from some half-breed outfit goin' through the country three years +ago--that's how he told me. Then we tried to break her. Say, you've +done well with her, boy." + +Jake had been lacing up a pair of high field boots; they were massive +things with heavy, clumped soles, iron tips and heels. Now he +straightened up. + +"Did Nelson say why he was late?" he went on abruptly. + +"No. And I didn't ask him." + +"Ah, knew it, I s'pose. Drunk?" + +"No." + +Tresler felt that the lie was a justifiable one. + +"Then what the devil kept the little swine?" + +Jake's brows suddenly lowered, and the savage tone was no less than +the coarse brutality of his words. The other's coolness grew more +marked. + +"That was none of my concern. He'd delivered the letter, and it was +only left for me to hurry him home." + +"I'll swear he was loafin' around the saloon all day. Say, I guess +I'll see him later." + +Tresler shrugged and turned away. He wanted to tell this man what he +thought of him. He felt positively murderous toward him. He had never +met anybody who could so rouse him. Sooner or later a crisis would +come, in spite of his reassurances to Diane, and then--Jake watched +him go. Then he turned again to the contemplation of his great boots, +and muttered to himself. + +"It won't be for long--no, not for long. But not yet. Ther's too much +hangin' to it----" He broke off, and his fierce eyes looked after the +retreating man. + +The unconscious object of these attentions meanwhile reached the +bunkhouse. Breakfast was well on, and he had to take his pannikin and +plate round to Teddy's cookhouse to get his food. "Slushy," as the +cook was familiarly called, dipped him out a liberal measure of pork +and beans, and handed him half a loaf of new-made bread. Jinks was no +niggard, and Tresler was always welcome to all he needed. + +"Goin' to ride?" the youth demanded, as he filled the pannikin with +tea. + +"Why, of course." Tresler had almost forgotten the change of work that +had been set out for the day. His face brightened now as the cook +reminded him of it. "Wouldn't miss it for a lot. That mare of mine has +given me a taste for that sort of thing." + +"Taste!" Teddy exclaimed, with a scornful wave of his dipper. "Belly +full, I tho't, mebbe." He turned to his stove and shook the ashes +down. "Say," he went on, over his shoulder, "guess I'm bakin' hash in +mine. Ther' ain't so much glory, but ther's a heap more comfort to +it." + +Tresler passed out smiling at the youth's ample philosophy. But the +smile died out almost on the instant. A half-smothered cry reached him +from somewhere in the direction of the barn. He stood for an instant +with his brows knitted. + +The next, and his movements became almost electrical. + +Now the man's deliberate character flatly contradicted itself. There +was no pause for consideration, no thought for what was best to do. He +had heard that cry, and had recognized the voice. It was a cry that +summoned him, and wrung the depths of his heart. His breakfast was +pitched to the ground. And, as though fate had ordained it, he beheld +a heavy rawhide quirt lying on the ground where he had halted. He +grabbed the cruel weapon up, and set off at a run in the direction +whence the cry had come. + +His feet were still encased in the soft moccasin slippers he usually +wore in exchange for his riding boots, and, as he ran, they gave out +no sound. It was a matter of fifty yards to the foreman's hut, and he +sprinted this in even time, keeping the building between himself and a +direct view of the barn, in the region of which lay his destination. +And as he ran the set expression of his face boded ill for some one. +Jaws and mouth were clenched to a fierce rigidity that said far more +than any words could have done. + +He paused for one breathless instant at the hither side of the +foreman's hut. It was because he heard Jake's voice cursing on the +other side of it. Then he heard that which made his blood leap to his +brain. It was a stifled cry in Nelson's now almost unrecognizable +voice. And its piteous appeal aroused in him a blind fury. + +He charged round the building in half a dozen strides. One glance at +the scene was sufficient. Poor old Joe Nelson was lying on the ground, +his arms thrown out to protect his head, while Jake, his face ablaze, +stood over him, kicking him with his cruel field boots, with a force +and brutishness that promised to break every bone in the old man's +body. + +It all came to him in a flash. + +Then he leapt with a rush at the author of the unnatural scene. The +butt of his quirt was uplifted. It swung above his head a full +half-circle, then it descended with that whistling split of the air +that told of the rage and force that impelled it. It took the giant +square across the face, laying the flesh open and sending the blood +spurting with its vicious impact. It sent him reeling backward with a +howl of pain, like a child at the slash of an admonishing cane. And +Jake's hands went up to his wounds at once; but, even so, his +movements were not swift enough to protect him from a second slash of +the vengeful thong. And Tresler's aim was so swift and sure that the +bully fell to the ground like a pole-axed steer. + +And with Jake's fall the tension of Tresler's rage relaxed. He could +have carried the chastisement further with a certain wild delight, but +he was no savage, only a real, human man, outraged and infuriated by +the savagery of another. His one thought was for his poor old friend, +and he dropped on his knees, and bent over the still, shrunken form in +a painful anxiety. He called to him, and put one hand under the gray +old head and raised it up. And as he did so the poor fellow's eyes +opened. Joe murmured something unintelligible, and Tresler was about +to speak again, when a movement behind him changed his purpose and +brought him to his feet with a leap. + +Nor was he any too soon. And his rage lit anew as he saw Jake +struggling to rise. In an instant he was standing over him +threateningly. + +"Move, and I'll paralyze you!" he cried hoarsely. + +And Jake made no further effort. He lay back with a growl of impotent +rage, while his hands moved uneasily, mopping his blood-stained +features. + +Now it was, for the first time, Tresler became aware that the men from +the bunkhouse had come upon the scene. + +The sight of all those faces gazing in wide-eyed astonishment at the +fallen Jake brought home to him something of the enormity of his +offense, and it behooved him to get Joe out of further harm's way. He +stooped, and gathering the little choreman tenderly into his powerful +arms, lifted him on to his shoulders and strode away to the bunkhouse, +followed by his silent, wondering comrades. + +He deposited Joe upon his own bed, and the men crowded round. And +questions and answers came in a wild volley about him. + +It was Arizona who spoke least and rendered most assistance. Together +he and Tresler undressed the patient and treated him to a rough +surgical examination. They soon found that no limbs were broken, but +of his ribs they were less certain. He was severely bruised about the +head, and this latter no doubt accounted for his unconsciousness. Cold +water, harshly applied, though with kind intent, was the necessary +restorative, and after a while the twisted face took on a hue of life +and the eyes opened. Then Tresler turned to the men about him. + +"Boys," he said gravely, "I want you all to remember that this is +purely my affair. Joe's and mine--and Jake's. I shall settle it in my +own way. For the present we have our work to do." + +There was a low murmur, and Arizona raised a pair of fierce eyes to +his face. He was going to speak--to voice a common thought; but +Tresler understood and cut him short. + +"Go easy, Arizona. We're good friends all. You wouldn't like me to +interfere in a quarrel of yours." + +"That's so--but----" + +"Never mind the 'buts.'" And Tresler's keen, honest eyes looked +squarely into the seared face of the wild cowpuncher. + +For a moment the men stood around looking on with lowering faces, +eyeing the prostrate man furtively. But Tresler's attitude gave them +no encouragement, and even Arizona felt the influence of his strong +personality. Suddenly, as though with a struggle, the cowboy swung +round on his fellows and his high-pitched tones filled the silent +room. + +"Come right on, boys. Guess he's right. We'll git." And he moved +toward the door. + +And the men, after the slightest possible hesitation, passed out in +his wake. Tresler waited until the door had closed behind the last of +them, then he turned to the injured man. + +"Feeling better, Joe?" + +"Feelin' better? Why, yes, I guess." + +Joe's answer came readily, but in a weak voice. + +"No bones broken?" + +"Bones? Don't seem." + +Tresler seated himself on the bunk and looked into the gray face. At +last he rose and prepared to go, but Joe detained him with a look. + +"Say--they're gone?" he murmured. + +The other sat down again. "Yes." + +"Good." Joe sighed and reclosed his eyes; but it was only for a +second. He opened them again and went on. "Say, you won't tell +her--Miss Dianny. Don't you tell her. Pore little soul, she'll wep +them pretty eyes o' hers out, sure. Y' see, I know her. Y' see, I did +git drunk yesterday. I knew I'd git it. So it don't signify. Don't +tell her." + +"She'll be sure to hear of it." + +"Say, Tresler," Joe went on, ignoring the other's objection. "Go easy; +jest say nothin'. Kind o' fergit this thing fer the time. Ther's other +work fer you. I'd a heap sooner I'd bin killed than you git roped into +this racket. It's Miss Dianny you're to look to, not me; an' now, +mebbe, they'll run you off'n the ranch." + +Tresler shook his head decidedly. "Don't be afraid; they can't get rid +of me, Joe," he said. + +"Ah! Wal, I guess meanwhile you'd best git off to work. I'll pull +round after a while. You see, you must go dead easy wi' Jake, 'cos o' +her. Mind it's her--on'y her. You sed it last night. Mebbe this +thing's goin' to make trouble. Trouble fer you; an' trouble fer you +means trouble fer her." + +"I'm going." + +Tresler saw the force of the other's argument. He must give them no +further hold to turn on him. Yes, he saw how bad his position would be +in the future. He wondered what would come of that morning's work; +and, in spite of his confident assurance to Joe, he dreaded now lest +there should be any means for them to get rid of him. He moved toward +the door. + +"All right, Joe. I'll keep a check on myself in the future," he said. +"But don't you go and get drunk again or----" + +He broke off. Flinging the door open to pass out, he found himself +face to face with the object of their solicitude. Diane had been about +to knock, and now started back in confusion. She had not expected +this. She thought Tresler was with the "breaking" party. The man saw +her distress, and the anxiety in her sweet brown eyes. He knew that at +that moment all her thought was for Joe. It was the basket on her arm, +full of comforts, that told him. And he knew, too, that she must have +been a witness to the disgraceful scene by the barn, for how else +could she have learned so quickly what had happened? He put his finger +on his lip to silence her, while he closed the bunkhouse door behind +him. Then he responded to the inquiry he saw in her eager, troubled +face. + +"He is better, Miss Diane. He will soon be all right," he added, +keeping his voice low lest it should reach the man inside. "Can I give +him anything for you? Any message?" He glanced significantly from her +face to the basket on her arm. + +The girl did not answer at once. Her eyes looked seriously up into his +face. + +"Thank you," she said at last, a little vaguely. Then she broke out +eagerly, and Tresler understood the feeling that prompted her. "I saw +the finish of it all," she went on; "oh, the dreadful finish. Thank +God I did not see the rest. When you bore him off on your shoulders I +thought he was dead. Then I felt I could not stay away. While I was +wondering how to get down here without attracting attention, Sheriff +Fyles arrived, and father and he went at once into the office. I knew +Jake would be out of the way. I waited until Anton had disappeared +with the sheriff's horse, then I hurried down here. Can I see him now? +I have a few little luxuries here which I scrambled together for him." + +The girl's appeal was irresistible. Nor was Tresler the man to attempt +the impossible. Besides, she knew all, so there was nothing to hide +from her. He glanced over at the barn. The men had already saddled. He +saw Arizona leading two horses, and recognized Lady Jezebel as one of +them. The wild cowpuncher had saddled his mare for him, and the +friendliness of the act pleased him. + +"Yes, go in and see him," he said. "The place hasn't been cleaned up +yet, but perhaps you won't mind that. You will come like an angel of +comfort to poor Joe. Poor old fellow! He thinks only of you. You are +his one care in life. It will be like a ray of sunshine in his clouded +life to be waited on by you. I need hardly give you the caution, +but--don't stay long." + +Diane nodded, and Tresler stepped aside. The girl's hand was on the +door-latch; she hesitated a moment and finally faced about. + +"Fyles is here now," she said significantly. "The raiders; do you +think you ought----" + +"I am going to see him." + +"Yes." The girl nodded. She would have said more, but her companion +cut her short. + +"I must go," he said. Then he pointed over at the mare. "You see?" he +added. "She is in view of Jake's window." + +The next moment they had parted. + +The Lady Jezebel was very fretful when Tresler mounted her. She +treated him to a mild display of bad temper, and then danced +boisterously off down the trail, and her progress was as much made on +her hind legs as on all fours. Once round the bend her rider tried to +bring her to a halt, but no persuasion could reduce her to the +necessary docility. She fretted on until, exasperated, the man jabbed +her sharply with the spurs. Then the mischief started. Her head went +down and her back humped, and she settled to a battle royal. + +It was in the midst of this that another horseman rounded the bend and +rode leisurely on to the field of battle. He drew up and watched the +conflict with interest, his own great raw-boned bay taking quite as +enthusiastic an interest in what was going forward as its rider. + +The mare fought like a demon; but Tresler had learned too much for +her, and sat on his saddle as though glued to it; and the newcomer's +interest became blended with admiration for the exhibition of +horsemanship he was witnessing. As suddenly as she had begun the lady +desisted. It was in a pause for breath that she raised her infuriated +head and espied the intruder. Doubtless, realizing the futility of her +efforts, and at the same time not wishing one of the opposite sex to +witness her defeat, she preferred to disguise her anger and gave the +impression of a quiet, frivolous gambol, for she whinnied softly and +stared, with ears pricked and head erect, in a haughty look of inquiry +at the more cumbersome figure of the bay. + +And her rider, too, had time to look around. His glance at once fell +upon the stranger, and he knew that it was the man he wanted to talk +to. + +The two men met with little formality. + +"Sheriff Fyles?" Tresler said as he came up. + +There was something wonderfully picturesque yet businesslike about +this prairie sleuth. This man was the first of his kind he had seen, +and he studied him with interest. The thought of Sheriff Fyles had +come so suddenly into his mind, and so recently, that he had no time +to form any imaginative picture of him. Had he done so he must +inevitably have been disappointed with the reality, for Fyles was +neither becoming nor even imposing. He was rather short and decidedly +burly, and his face had an innocent caste about it, a farmer-like +mould of russet-tanned features that was extremely healthy-looking, +but in no way remarkable for any appearance of great intelligence. + +But this was a case of the fallibility of appearances. Fyles was +remarkable both for great intelligence and extreme shrewdness. Not +only that, he was a man of cat-like activity. His bulk was the result +of a superabundance of muscle, and not of superfluous tissue. His +bucolic spread of features was useful to him in that it detracted from +the cold, keen, compelling eyes which looked out from beneath his +shaggy eyebrows; and, too, the full cheeks and fat neck, helping to +hide the determined jaws, which had a knack of closing his rather +full lips into a thin, straight line. Nature never intended a man of +his mould to occupy the position that Fyles held in his country's +peace regime. He was one of her happy mistakes. + +And in that first survey Tresler realized something of the personality +which form and features were so ludicrously struggling to conceal. + +"Yes." The officer let his eyes move slowly over this stranger. Then, +without the least expression of cordiality he spoke the thought in his +mind. "That's a good nag--remarkably good. You handle her tolerably. +Didn't get your name?" + +"Tresler--John Tresler." + +"Yes. New hereabouts?" + +The broad-shouldered man had an aggravatingly official manner. Tresler +replied with a nod. + +"Ah! Remittance man?" + +At this the other laughed outright. He saw it was useless to display +any anger. + +"Wrong," he said. "Learning the business of ranching. Going to start +on my own account later on." + +"Ah! Younger son?" + +"Not even a younger son!" The two horses were now moving leisurely on +toward the ford. "Suppose we quit questions and answers that serve no +particular purpose, sheriff. I have been waiting to see you." + +"So I figured," observed the other, imperturbably, "or you wouldn't +have answered my questions so amiably. Well?" + +The sheriff permitted himself a sort of wintry smile, while his +watchful eyes wandered interestedly over the surrounding bush. + +"There are things doing about this country," Tresler began a little +lamely. "You've possibly heard?" + +"Things are generally doing in a cattle country where brands are +easily changed and there is no official to inquire who has changed +them." + +Fyles glanced admiringly down at Lady Jezebel's beautiful clean legs. + +"This Red Mask?" Tresler asked. + +"Exactly." + +"You've heard the story of his latest escapade? The murder of Manson +Orr?" + +"From Mr. Marbolt--and others. In telling me, the blind man offered +five thousand dollars' reward for the capture of the man." + +"That's better than I hoped for," replied Tresler, musingly. "You +see," he went on, "the blind man's something cantankerous. He's lost +cattle himself, but when some of the boys offered to hunt Red Mask +down, he treated them with scant courtesy--in fact, threatened to +discharge any man who left the ranch on that quest." + +"I found him amiable." + +"You would." Tresler paused. This man was difficult to talk to, and he +wanted to say so much. Suddenly he turned and faced him, and, to his +chagrin, discovered that the other was still intent on the mare he was +riding. His eyes were fixed on the lady's shoulder, where the +indistinct marks of the brand were still visible. "You see, sergeant," +he went on, ignoring the other's abstraction, "I have a story to tell +you, which, in your official capacity, you may find interesting. In +the light of recent events, I, at any rate, find it interesting. It +has set me thinking a heap." + +"Go ahead," said the officer, without even so much as raising his +eyes. Tresler followed the direction of his gaze, but could see +nothing more interesting in his mare's fore-quarters than their +perfect shape. However, there was no alternative but to proceed with +his narrative. And he told the sheriff of the visit of the +night-riders which he had witnessed on the night of his arrival at the +ranch. In spite of the other's apparent abstraction, he told the story +carefully and faithfully, and his closing remarks were well pointed +and displayed a close analysis. He told him of the previous visits of +these night-riders, and the results following upon the circulation of +the story by each individual who chanced to witness them. He told of +Joe Nelson's warning to him, and how his earnestness had, at length, +persuaded him to keep quiet. He felt no scruples in thus changing the +responsibility of Diane's warning. Nothing would have induced him to +drag her name into the matter. + +"You see, sheriff," he said in conclusion, "I think I did right to +keep this matter to myself until such time as I could tell it to you. +It has all happened several times before, and, therefore, will no +doubt happen again. What do you think?" + +"She's the finest thing I've ever set two eyes on. There's only one +like her--eh?" Tresler had given audible expression to his impatience, +and the other abruptly withdrew his gaze from the mare. "It's +interesting--decidedly." + +"Did Marbolt tell you of the previous visits of these raiders? He +knows of them." + +"He told me more than I had time to listen to." + +"How?" + +"He told me of the revolutionary spirit pervading the ranch." + +"Ah!" + +Tresler saw the trap the wily police officer had laid for him and +refused the bait. Evidently the blind man had told his version of that +morning's doings, and the sheriff wished to learn the men's side of +it. Probably his, Tresler's. This calm, cold man seemed to depend in +no way upon verbal answers for the information he desired, for he went +on without any appearance of expecting a reply. + +"There's one thing you've made plain to me. You suspect collusion +between these raiders and some one on the ranch." + +"Yes. I meant you to understand that." + +"Whom do you suspect? And your reasons?" + +The two questions rapped out one after the other like lightning. + +"My suspicions rest nowhere, because I can find no reason." + +They had drawn rein at the ford. Fyles now looked keenly into +Tresler's face, and his glance was full of meaning. + +"I'm glad I've had this talk with you, Tresler. You have a keen +faculty for observation, and a wise caution. When you have reason to +suspect any one, and wish to tell me of it, you can communicate with +me at any hour of the day or night. I know this ranch well by repute. +So well, in fact, that I came out here to find you. You see, you also +were known to me--through mutual acquaintances in Forks. Now your +excellent caution will tell you that it would be bad policy for you to +communicate openly with me. Good. Your equally excellent observation +will have called your attention to this river. I have a posse +stationed further down stream, for certain reasons which I will keep +to myself. It is a hidden posse, but it will always be there. Now, to +a man of your natural cleverness, I do not think you will have any +difficulty in finding a means of floating a message down to me. But do +not send an urgent message unless the urgency is positive. Any message +I receive in that way I shall act upon at once. I have learned a great +deal to-day, Tresler, so much indeed that I even think you may +need to use this river before long. All I ask of you is to be +circumspect--that's the word, circumspect." + +The sheriff edged his horse away so that he could obtain a good view +of Lady Jezebel. And he gazed at her with so much intentness that +Tresler felt he must call attention to it. + +"She is a beauty," he suggested. + +And Fyles answered with a sharp question. "Is she yours?" + +"No. Only to use." + +"Belongs to the ranch?" + +"Jake told me she is a mare the blind man bought from a half-breed +outfit passing through the country. He sets great store by her, but +they couldn't tame her into reliability. That's three years ago. By +her mouth I should say she was rising seven." + +"That's so. She'd be rising seven. She's a dandy." + +"You seem to know her." + +But Fyles made no answer. He swung his horse round, and, raising his +hand in a half-military salute in token of "good-bye," called over his +shoulder as his bay took to the water-- + +"Don't forget the river." + +Tresler looked after him for some moments, then his mare suddenly +reared and plunged into the water to follow. He understood at once +that fresh trouble was brewing in her ill-balanced equine mind, and +took her sharply to task. She couldn't buck in the water; and, +finally, after another prolonged battle, she dashed out of it and on +to the bank again. But in the scrimmage she had managed to get the +side-bar of the bit between her teeth, and, as she landed, she +stretched out her lean neck, and with a snort of ill-temper, set off +headlong down the trail. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +A WILD RIDE + + +The intractability of the Lady Jezebel was beyond all bounds. Her +vagaries were legion. After his experiences with her, Tresler might +have been forgiven the vanity of believing, in spite of her sex, that +he had fathomed her every mood. But she was forever springing +unpleasant surprises, and her present one was of a more alarming +nature than anything that had gone before. One of her tricks, bolting, +was not so very serious, but now she proved herself a "blind bolter." +And among horsemen there is only one thing to do with a blind +bolter--shoot it. A horse of this description seems to be imbued with +but one idea--a furious desire to go, to run anywhere, to run into +anything lying in its course, to run on until its strength is spent, +or its career is suddenly terminated by a forcible full stop. + +At the bend of the trail the mare took blindly to the bush. Chance +guided her on to a cattle-path which cut through to the pinewoods +beyond. It was but a matter of moments before her rider saw the dark +shadow of the woodlands come at him with a rush, and he plunged +headlong into the gray twilight of their virgin depths. He had just +time to crouch down in the saddle, with his face buried in the tangle +of the creature's flying mane, when the drooping boughs, laden with +their sad foliage, swept his back. He knew there were only two +courses open to him. Either he must sit tight and chance his luck till +the mad frolic was spent, or throw himself headlong from the saddle at +the first likely spot. A more experienced horseman would, no doubt, +have chosen the latter course without a second thought. But he +preferred to stay with the mare. He was loth to admit defeat. She had +never bested him yet, and a sort of petty vanity refused to allow him +to acknowledge her triumph now. They might come to an opening, he told +himself, a stretch of open country. The mare might tire of the forest +gloom and turn prairieward. These things suggested themselves merely +as an excuse for his foolhardiness in remaining in the saddle, not +that he had any hope of their fulfilment. + +And so it was. Nothing moved the animal out of her course, and it +seemed almost as though a miracle were in operation. For, in all that +labyrinth of tree-trunks, a sheer road constantly opened out before +them. Once, and once only, disaster was within an ace of him. She +brushed a mighty black-barked giant with her shoulders. Tresler's knee +struck it with such painful force that his foot was wrenched from the +stirrup and dragged back so that the rowel of his spur was plunged, +with terrific force, into the creature's flank. She responded to the +blow with a sideways leap, and it was only by sheer physical strength +her rider retained his seat. Time and again the reaching boughs swept +him and tore at his clothes, frequently lacerating the flesh beneath +with the force of their impact. + +These things, however, were only minor troubles as he raced down the +grim forest aisles. His thoughts centred themselves on the main +chance--the chance that embraced life and death. An ill-fate might, at +any moment, plunge horse and rider headlong into one of those silent +sentries. It would mean anything. Broken limbs at the best. But +Providence ever watches over the reckless horseman, and, in spite of a +certain native caution in most things, Tresler certainly was that. He +knew no fear of this jade of a mare, and deep down in his heart there +was a wild feeling of joy, a whole-hearted delight in the very madness +of the race. + +And the animal herself, untamed, unchecked, frothing at her bit, her +sides a-lather with foam, her barrel tuckered like that of a finely +trained race-horse, rushed blindly on. The forest echoed and reechoed +with the dull thud of her hoofs as they pounded the thick underlay of +rotting cones. And her rider breathed hard as he lay with his head +beside the reeking neck, and watched for the coming of the end. + +Suddenly, in the midst of the gray, he saw a flash of sunlight. It was +like a beacon light to a storm-driven mariner. It was only a gleam of +sunshine and was gone almost at once, but it told him that he was fast +coming on the river. The final shoals, maybe, where wreck alone +awaited him. Just for an instant his purpose wavered. There was still +time to drop to the ground. He would have to chance the mare's flying +heels. And it might save him. + +But the idea was driven from his head almost before he realized it; +the mare swerved like a skidding vehicle. He clung desperately to her +mane, one arm was even round her neck in a forcible embrace. The +struggle lasted only a few seconds. Then, as he recovered his +equilibrium, he saw that she had turned into what was undoubtedly a +well-defined, but long-disused, forest trail. The way was clear of +obstruction. The trees had parted, opening up a wide avenue, and above +him shone the perfect azure of the summer sky. + +He was amazed. Where could such a trail lead? His answer came +immediately. Away ahead of him, towering above the abundant foliage, +he saw the distant shimmer of snowy peaks, and nearer--so near as to +make him marvel aloud--the forest-clad, broken lands of the +foot-hills. Immediate danger was past and he had time to think. At all +cost he must endeavor to stop the racing beast under him. So he began +a vicious sawing at her mouth. His efforts only drove her faster, and +caused her to throw her head higher and higher, until her crown was +within six inches of his face. + +The futility of his purpose was almost ludicrous. He desisted. And the +Lady Jezebel lowered her head with an angry snort and rushed on harder +than ever. And now the race continued without relaxing. Once or twice +Tresler thought he detected other hoof-marks on the trail, but his +impression of them was very uncertain. One thing surely struck him, +however: since entering this relic of the old Indian days, a decided +change had come over the mare. She was no longer running blind; more, +it seemed to him that she displayed that inexpressible familiarity +with her surroundings which a true horseman can always detect, yet +never describe. This knowledge led him to the hope of the passing of +her temper. + +But his hope was an optimistic mistake. The sweat pouring from neck, +shoulders, and flanks, she still lifted her mud-brown barrel to her +mighty stride, with all the vim and lightness of the start. He felt +that, jade that she was, she ran because she loved it; ran with a +delight that acted as a safety-valve for her villainous temper. She +would run herself into amiability and then stop, but not before. And +he knew her temper so well that he saw many miles lying ahead of him. + +The rift was gradually widening, and the forest on either side +thinned. The trees were wider and more scattered, and the broken +hilltops, which but now had been well ahead, were frowning right over +him, and he knew, by the steady, gradual rise of the country, that he +would soon be well within the maze of forest, crag, and ravine, which +composed the mountain foot-hills. + +At last the forest broke and the ragged land leapt into full view with +magical abruptness. It was as though Nature had grown her forest +within the confines of a field embraced by an imaginary hedge. There +were no outskirts, no dwindling away. It ended in one clean-cut line. +And beyond lay the rampart hills, fringed and patched with disheveled +bluff, split by rifts and yawning chasms. And ever they rose higher +and higher as the distance gained, and, though summer was not yet at +its height, it was gaunt-looking, torn, chaotic, a land of desolation. + +The mare held straight on. The change of scene had no effect on her; +the trail still lay before her, and she seemed satisfied with it. +Tresler looked for the river. He knew it was somewhere near by. He +gazed away to the right, and his conjecture was proved at once. There +it lay, the Mosquito River, narrowed and foaming, a torrent with high, +clean-cut banks. He followed its course ahead and saw that the banks +lost themselves in the shadow between towering, almost barren hills, +which promised the narrow mouth of a valley beyond. + +And as he watched these things, a feeling of uneasiness came over him. +The split between the hills looked so narrow. He looked for the trail. +It seemed to make straight for the opening. As the ground flew under +him, he turned once more to the river and followed its course with his +eyes, and suddenly he was thrilled with his first real feeling of +apprehension. The river on the right, and the hill on the left of him +were converging. Nor could he avoid that meeting-point. + +He was borne on by the bolting mare. There was not the smallest hope +of restraining her. Whatever lay before him, he must face it, and face +it with every faculty alert and ready. His mouth parched, and he +licked his lips. He was facing a danger now that was uncertain, and +the uncertainty of it strung him with a nervous apprehension. + +Bluff succeeded bluff in rapid succession. The hill on the left had +become a sheer cliff, and the general aspect of the country, that of a +tremendous gorge. The trail rose slightly and wound its tortuous way +in such an aggravating manner that it was impossible for him to see +what lay before him. + +At one point he came to a fork where another trail, less defined, +branched away to the right. For a moment he dreaded lest the mare +should adopt the new way. He knew what lay out there--the river. +However, his fears were quickly allayed. The Lady Jezebel had no +intention of leaving the road she was on. + +They passed the fork, and he sighed his relief. But his relief was +short-lived. Without a sign or warning the trail he was on died out, +and his course lay over a narrow level flat sparsely dotted with +small, stubbly bush. Now he knew that the mare had been true to +herself. She had passed the real trail by, and was running headlong +to---- + +He dared think no more. He knew the crisis was at hand. He had reached +the narrowest point of the opening between the two hills, and there +stretched the river right across his path less than fifty yards ahead. +It took no central course--as might have been expected--through the +gorge. It met the left-hand cliff diagonally, and, further on, adopted +its sheer side for its left bank. He saw the clearly defined cutting, +sharp, precise, before it reached the cliff, and he was riding +straight for it! + +In that first moment of realization he passed through every sensation +of fear; but no time was given him for thought. Fifty yards! What was +that to the raking stride of his untamed mare? It would be gone in a +few seconds. Action was the only thing to serve him, and such action +as instinct prompted him to was utterly unavailing. With a mighty +heave of his body, and with all the strength of his sinewy arms, he +tried to pull the creature on to her haunches. As well try to stem +the tide ahead of him. She threw up her head until it nearly struck +him in the face; she pawed the air with her great front legs; then, as +he released her, she rushed forward again with a vicious snort. + +His case seemed utterly hopeless. He sat down tight in the saddle, +leaning slightly forward. He held his reins low, keeping a steady +strain upon them. There was a vague, wild thought in his mind. He knew +the river had narrowed. Was it a possible jump? He feared the very +worst, but clung desperately to the hope. He would lift the creature +to it when it came, anyhow. Would she see it? Would she, freakish +brute that she was, realize her own danger, and, for once in her +desperate life, do one sensible act? He did not expect it. He dared +not hope for that. He only wondered. + +He could see the full extent of the chasm now. And he thrilled as he +realized that it was broader than he had supposed. Worse, the far bank +was lower, and a fringe of bush hung at its very edge. His jaws +tightened as he came up. He could hear the roar of the torrent below, +and, to his strained fancy, it seemed to come up from the very bowels +of the earth. + +A few more strides. He timed his effort with a judgment inspired by +the knowledge that his life depended on it--it, and the mare. + +The chasm now came at him with a rush. Suddenly he leaned over and let +out a wild "halloo!" in the creature's ears. At the same time he +lifted her and plunged his spurs hard into her flanks. The effect was +instantaneous, electrical. Just for an instant it seemed to him that +some unseen power had suddenly shot her from under him. He had a +sensation of being left behind, while yet he was rushing through the +air with the saddle flying from under him. Then all seemed still, and +he was gliding, the lower part of his body struggling to outstrip the +rest of him. He had an impression of some great depth below him, +though he knew he saw nothing, heard nothing. There came a great jolt. +He lurched on to the animal's neck, recovered himself, and, the next +instant, the old desperate gallop was going on as before. + +He looked back and shivered as he saw the gaping rift behind him. The +jump had been terrific, and, as he realized the marvel of the feat, he +leaned over and patted the mare's reeking shoulder. She had performed +an act after her own wild heart. + +And Tresler laughed aloud at the thought. He could afford to laugh +now, for he saw the end of his journey coming. He had landed on the +trail he had lost, in all probability the continuation across the +river of the branch road he had missed on the other side, and this was +heading directly for the hill before him. More, he could see it +winding its way up the hill. Even the Lady Jezebel, he thought, would +find that ascent more than to her liking. + +And he was right. She faced it and breasted it like the lion-hearted +animal she was, but the loose sandy surface, and the abruptness of the +incline, first brought her to a series of plunges, and finally to her +knees and a dead halt. + +And Tresler was out of the saddle in an instant, and drew the reins +over her head, while she, now quite subdued, struggled to her feet. +She was utterly blown, and her master was little better. They stood +together on that hillside and rested. + +Now the man had a full view of the river below, and he realized the +jump that the mare had made. And, further down, he beheld an +astonishing sight. At a point where the course of the river narrowed, +a rough bridge of pine-logs had been thrown across it. He stood for +some minutes contemplating the scene and busy with his thoughts, which +at last culminated in a question uttered aloud-- + +"Where on earth does it lead to?" + +And he turned and surveyed the point, where, higher up, the trail +vanished round the hillside above him. The question voiced a natural +curiosity which he promptly proceeded to satisfy. Linking his arm +through the reins, he led the mare up the hill. + +It was a laborious climb. Even free of her burden the horse had +difficulty in keeping her feet. The sandy surface was deep, and poured +away at every step like the dry sand on the seashore. And as they +labored up, Tresler's wonder increased at every step. Why had such a +trail been made, and where--where could it lead to? + +At length the vanishing-point was reached, and horse and rider rounded +the bend. And immediately the reason was made plain. But even the +reason sank into insignificance before the splendor of the scene which +presented itself. + +He was standing on a sort of shelf cut out of the hillside. It was +not more than fifty yards long, and some twenty wide, but it stood +high over a wide, far-reaching valley, scooped out amongst the great +foot-hills which reared their crests about him on every side. Far as +the eye could see was spread out the bright, early summer green of the +grass-land hollow. For the most part the surrounding hills were +precipitate, and rose sheer from the bed of the valley, but here and +there a friendly landslide had made the place accessible. Just where +he stood, and all along the shelf, the face of the hill formed a +precipice, both above and below, and the only approach to it was the +way he had come round from the other side of the hill. + +And the object, the reason, of that hidden road. A small hut crushed +into the side of the sheer cliff. A dugout of logs, and thatch, and +mud plaster. A hut with one fronting door, and a parchment window; a +hut such as might have belonged to some old-time trapper, who had +found it necessary to set his home somewhere secure from the attacks +of marauding Indians. + +And what a strategic position it was! One approach to be barred and +barricaded; one laborious road which the besieged could sweep with his +rifle-fire, and beat back almost any horde of Indians in the country. +He led his horse on toward the hut. The door was closed, and the +parchment of the window hid the interior. + +The outside appearance showed good repair. He examined it critically. +He walked round its three sides, and, as he came to the far side of +it, and thoughtfully took in the method of its construction, he +suddenly became aware of another example of the old trapper's cunning. +The cliff that rose sheer up for another two or three hundred feet +slightly sloped backward at the extremity of the shelf, and here had +been cut a rude sort of staircase in the gray limestone of which it +was composed. There were the steps, dangerous enough, and dizzying to +look at, rising up, up, to the summit above. He ventured to the brink +where they began, but instantly drew back. Below was a sheer drop of +perhaps five hundred feet. + +Turning his eyes upward, his fancy conjured up a picture of the poor +wretch, hunted and besieged by the howling Indians, starving perhaps, +creeping at dead of night from the little fort he had held so long and +so valiantly against such overwhelming odds, and, in desperation, +availing himself of his one and only possible escape. Step by step, he +followed him, in imagination, up the awful cliff, clinging for dear +life with fingers worn and lacerated by the grinding stone. Weary and +exhausted, he seemed to see him draw near the top. Then a slip, one +slip of his tired feet, and no hold upon the limestone with his hands +would have power to save him. Down, down---- + +He turned back to the hut with a sick feeling in his stomach. Securing +his mare to an iron ring, which he found driven firmly into one of the +logs, he proceeded to investigate further. The door was held by a +common latch, and yielded at once when he raised it. It opened inward, +and he waited after throwing it open. He had a strange feeling of +trespass in thus intruding upon what might prove to be the home of +some fur-hunter. + +No sound followed the opening of the door. He waited listening; then +at last he stepped forward and announced himself with a sharp "Hello!" + +His only answer was the echo of his greeting. Without more ado he +stepped in. For a moment the sharpness of the contrast of light made +it impossible for him to see anything; but presently he became used to +the twilight of the interior, and looked about him curiously. It was +his first acquaintance with a dugout, nor was he impressed with the +comfort it displayed. The place was dirty, unkempt, and his dream of +the picturesque, old-time trapper died out entirely. He beheld walls +bare of all decoration, simply a rough plastering of mud over the +lateral logs; a frowsy cupboard, made out of a huge packing-case, +containing odd articles for housekeeping purposes. There were the +fragments of two chairs lying in a heap beside a dismembered table, +which stood only by the aid of two legs and the centre post which +supported the pitch of the roof. A rough trestle-bed occupied the far +end of the hut, and in shape and make it reminded him of his own bed +in the bunkhouse. But there the resemblance ended, for the palliasse +was of brown sacking, and a pair of dull-red blankets were tumbled in +a heap upon its foot. One more blanket of similar hue was lying upon +the floor; but this was only a torn fragment that had possibly served +as a carpet, or, to judge by other fragments lying about, had been +used to patch shirts, or even the well-worn bedclothes. + +It was a squalid hovel, and reeked of the earth out of which it was +dug. Beyond the bedding, the red blankets, and the few plates and pots +in the packing-case cupboard, there was not a sign of the owner, and +Tresler found himself wondering as to what manner of man it was who +could have endured such meanness. It did not occur to him that +probably the very trapper he had thought of had left his eyrie in +peace and taken his belongings with him, leaving behind him only those +things which were worthless. + +A few minutes satisfied his curiosity. Probably his ride, and a +natural desire to return to the ranch as quickly as possible, had +dulled the keenness of his faculties of observation. Certain it is +that, squalid as the place was, there was an air of recent habitation +about it that he missed. He took it for a deserted shack merely, and +gave it no second thought. + +He passed out into the daylight with an air of relief; he had seen +quite enough. The Lady Jezebel welcomed him with an agitated snort; +she too seemed anxious to get away. He led her down the shelving trail +again. The descent was as laborious as the ascent had been, and much +more dangerous. But it was accomplished at last, and at the foot of +the hill he mounted the now docile animal, who cantered off as amiably +as though she had never done anything wrong in her life. + +And as he rode away his thoughts reverted to the incidents of that +morning; he went again over the scenes in which he had taken part, the +scenes he had witnessed. He thought of his brief battle with Jake, of +Diane and Joe, of his interview with Fyles. All these things were of +such vital import to him that he had no thought for anything else; +even the log bridge spanning the river could not draw from him any +kind of interest. Had his mind been less occupied, he might have +paused to ask himself a question about the things he had just seen. He +might even have wondered how the logs of that dugout had been hauled +to the shelf on which it stood. Certain it was that they must have +been carried there, for there was not a single tree upon the hillside, +only a low bush. And the bridge; surely it was the work of many hands. +And why was it there on a disused trail? + +But he had no thought for such questions just then. He bustled the +mare and hurried on. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE TRAIL OF THE NIGHT-RIDERS + + +A week passed before Tresler was again brought into contact with +Jake. When he got back from his ride into the foot-hills, the +"broncho-busting" carnival was in full swing; but he was fated to have +no share in it. Jacob Smith was waiting for him with a message from +Julian Marbolt; his orders were peremptory. He was to leave at once +for Whitewater, to make preparations for the reception of the young +horses now being broken for the troops. The rancher made his meaning +quite plain. And Tresler was quick to understand that this was simply +to get him out of the way until such time as Jake's temper had cooled +and the danger of a further rupture was averted. + +He received his instructions without comment. It was rough on his +mare, but as the Lady Jezebel was fond of giving hard knocks, she must +not mind if she received a similar treatment in return. And so he +went, much to the disquiet of Joe Nelson, and with a characteristic +admonition from Arizona. That individual had just finished thrashing a +bull-headed young broncho with a quirt, because he wouldn't move from +the spot where he had been saddled, when Tresler came up. The lean man +was breathing hard as he rested, and he panted his farewell huskily. + +"Kep y'r gun good an' handy," he said. "Et's mighty good company, if +et don't git gassin' wi'out you ast it a question." + +In this case, however, there was no need for the advice. The journey +was a peaceful relief after the storms of Mosquito Bend. Tresler +transacted his business, the horses arrived, were delivered to the +authorities, and he witnessed the military methods of dealing with +their remounts, which was a wonderful example of patience and +moderation. Then he set out for the ranch again, in company with Raw +Harris and Lew Cawley--the two men who had brought the band into the +town. + +His return to Mosquito Bend was very different from his first coming. +It seemed to him as if a lifetime had passed since he had been +ridiculed about his riding-breeches by all who met him. So much had +happened since then. Now he was admittedly a full-blown prairie man, +with much to learn, perhaps, but garbed like the other cowpunchers +with him, in moleskin and buckskin, Mexican spurs, and slouch hat; his +gun-belt slantwise on his hips, and his leather chapps creaking as he +rode. He was no longer "the guy with the pants" he had been when he +first entered the land of cattle, and somehow he felt glad at the +metamorphosis. It brought him nearer to the land, which, with all its +roughness, he felt to be the true life for him. + +It was evening; the sun had not yet set, but it was dipping low +over the western hills, casting long shadows from behind the +gorgeous-colored heat clouds. Its dying lustre shone like a fire of +molten matter through the tree-tops, and lit the forest-crowned hills, +until the densest foliage appeared like the most delicate fretwork of +Nature's own cutting. And in the shadow cast by the hilly background +there nestled the ranch, overlooking its vast, wide-spreading pastures +of succulent grass. + +Yes, Tresler was glad to be back to it all, no matter what the future +might hold for him. He had missed his companions; he had missed +Arizona, with his fierce, untamed spirit; he had missed Joe, with his +quaint face and staunch heart; but more than all, he had longed to get +back to Diane, looking forward to the greeting she would extend him as +only a lover can. But there was something more in his longing than +that. Every day he had been away he had fretted and chafed at the +thought of what might be happening to her. Joe was there to send him +word, but even this was insufficient. There had been times when he +felt that he could not stay to finish the work put upon him; there had +been times when his patience utterly gave way before the nervous +tension of his feelings, and he had been ready to saddle his mare and +offer her a race against time back to the girl he loved. + +His feelings were stirred to their very depths as he came up the trail +from the ford. He had no words for either of his companions, nor did +they seem inclined for speech. They passed the corrals in silence and +reached the bunkhouse, where several of their comrades greeted them +with a nod or a casual "Hello!" They might have just returned from a +day's work on the range for all the interest displayed at their +coming. But, then, effusiveness is no part of the cowboy's manner. +There is rarely a "good-bye" on the prairie, unless it is when a +comrade "hits the one-way trail." Even then it is more often a quiet +"s'long," without any demonstrativeness, but which may mean far more +than a flood of tears. + +Jake was at his door when Tresler rode over to report. He was still +bearing the marks of the quirt on his face, and the author of them +beheld his handiwork with some qualms of regret. However, there was +none of this in his manner as he made his report. And, much to his +astonishment, Jake displayed a cold civility. He surpassed himself. +Not a sneer or sarcasm passed his lips. The report done, he went on to +the barn and stabled his mare for the night. Then he passed on toward +his quarters. + +Before he reached his destination, however, he was joined by Nelson. +The little man had evidently been waiting for him. + +"Well?" + +There was no greeting. Tresler put his monosyllabic question at once. +And the choreman responded without hesitation. + +"She's bin astin' fer you three times. When wus you gittin' around +agin? I guessed I didn't know fer sure. She wus kind o' worrited, I +reckon." He paused, and his twisted face turned in the direction of +the foreman's hut. "She wus weepin' last night," he went on. Then he +paused again, and his shrewd eyes came back to Tresler's face. "She's +bin weepin' to-day," he said, with a peculiar look of expectation in +his manner. + +"What's the trouble?" The question came short and sharp. + +"Mebbe she's lonesome." + +"That's not it; you've got other reasons." + +Joe looked away again. "Jake's bin around some. But I guess she's +lonesome too. She's ast fer you." The little man's tone was full of +obstinacy. + +Tresler understood his drift. If Joe had his way he'd march Diane and +him off to the nearest parson with no more delay than was required to +saddle two horses. + +"I'm going to see her to-night," Tresler replied quietly. Then, as he +saw Jake appear again in the doorway, he said, "You'd better pass on +now. Maybe I'll see you afterward." + +And Joe moved off without another word. Jake had seen them together, +but he was unsuspicious. He was thinking of the scars on his face, and +of something else that had nothing to do with their meeting. And his +thoughts made him smile unpleasantly. + +If Tresler's first greeting had been indifferent, his reception, as he +came over to the bunkhouse now, was far from being so. Talk flowed +freely, inquiries hailed him on every side; jests passed, sometimes +coarse, sometimes subtle, but always cordial. All the men on the ranch +had a fair good-will for him. "Tenderfoot" he might be, but they +approved his grit, and with frontiersmen grit is all that matters. + +After supper he separated himself from his companions under pretext of +cleaning his saddlery. He hauled a bucket of water, and went down to +the lower corrals and disposed his accoutrements for the operation, +but he did no work until he saw Arizona approaching. That unkempt +personage loafed up in a sort of manner that plainly said he didn't +care if he came or not. But Tresler knew this was only his manner. The +cleaning of the saddle now proceeded with assiduity, and Arizona sat +himself down on a fallen log and spat tobacco-juice around him. At +last he settled himself, nursing one knee in his clasped hands, and +spoke with that air of absolute conviction which always characterized +him. + +"Say, Jake's grittin' his teeth tight," he said. Then, as an +afterthought, "But he ain't showin' 'em." + +Tresler looked up and studied the cadaverous face before him. + +"You mean--about----" + +"Wal, I wus jest figgerin' on how you wus standin'. Seems likely +you're standin' lookin' east wi' a feller due west who's got the drop +on yer; which, to my reckonin', ain't as safe as handin' trac's to a +lodge o' Cheyenne neches on the war-path." + +"You think that Jake's quietly getting the drop on me?" + +"Wal, I allow ef I wus Jake I'd be gettin' a'mighty busy that way. An' +I kind o' calc'late that's wot he's doin'." + +Tresler smiled and returned to his work. "And what form do you think +his 'drop' will take?" he asked, without looking up. + +"I ain't gifted wi' imagination. Y' ain't never sure which way a blind +mule's likely ter kick. Jake's in the natur' of a blind mule. What I +sez is, watch him. Don't look east when he's west. Say," he went on, +in a tone of disgust, "you Noo Yorkers make me sick. Ther' ain't +nothin' ter hittin' a feller an' makin' him sore. It on'y gives him +time to git mad. A gun's handy an' sudden. On'y you need a goodish +bore ef you're goin' ter perf'rate the hide of a guy like Jake. +Pshaw!" he finished up witheringly, "you fellers ain't got shut o' +last century." + +"Maybe we haven't," Tresler retorted, with a good-humored laugh; "but +your enterprise has carried you so far ahead of time that you've +overlapped. I tell you, man, you're back in the savage times. You're +groping in the prehistoric periods--Jurassic, Eocene, or some such." + +"Guess I ain't familiar wi' Jurassics an' Eocenes," Arizona replied +gravely. "Mebbe that was before my time; but ef you're speakin' o' +them fellers as clumped each other over the head wi' stone clubs, I +'lows they had more savee than a Noo Yorker, ef they wus kind o' +primitive in the'r habits." + +Tresler accepted the argument in the spirit in which it was put +forward. It was no use getting angry. Arizona was peculiar, but he had +reason to consider him, in his own parlance, "a decent citizen." He +went on with his work steadily while the cowpuncher grunted out his +impatience. Then at last, as though it were forced from him, the +latter jerked out a more modified opinion of the civilized American. +It seemed as though Tresler's very silence had drawn it from him. + +"Wal," he said grumblingly, "mebbe you Noo Yorkers has points--mebbe, +I sez." Then he dismissed the subject with an impatient shrug of his +drooping shoulders, and went off at a fresh angle. "Say, I wus kind o' +wonderin' some 'bout that flea-bitten shadder, Joe Nelson. He's +amazin' queer stayin' 'round here. He's foxin' some, too. Y' ain't +never sure when you're like to strike them chewed-up features o' his +after nightfall. Y' see he's kind o' quit drinkin'--leastways, he's +frekent sober. Mebbe he can't sleep easy. Ther's suthin' worritin' his +head, sure. He 'pears ter me desp'rate restless--kind o' like an old +hoss wi' the bush-ticks. Et don't fit noways wi' the Joe Nelson I +oncet knew. Mebbe it's religion. Ther' ain't nuthin' like religion fer +makin' things oneasy in your head. Joe allus had a strain o' religion +in him." + +The Southerner gazed gloomily at the saddle on the fence, while he +munched his tobacco in thoughtful silence. + +"I don't think Joe's got religion," said Tresler, with a smile. "He's +certainly worried, and with reason. Jake's got his knife into him. No, +I think Joe's got a definite object in staying around here, and I +shouldn't wonder if he's clever enough to attain it, whatever it is." + +"That sounds more like Joe," assented the other, cheering up at the +suggestion. "Still, Joe allus had a strain o' religion in him," he +persisted. "I see him drop a man in his tracks oncet, an' cry like a +noo-born babby 'cos ther' wa'n't a chu'ch book in Lone Brake +Settlement, an' he'd forgot his prayers, an' had ter let the feller +lie around fer the coyotes, instead o' buryin' him decent. That's a +whiles ago. Guess Lone Brake's changed some. They do say ther's a +Bible ther' now. Kind o' roped safe to the desk in the meetin'-house, +so the boys can't git foolin' wi' it. Yup," he went on, with an +abstracted look in his expressive eyes, "religion's a mighty powerful +thing when it gits around. Most like the fever. I kind o' got touched +wi' it down Texas way on the Mexican border. Guess et wer' t' do wi' a +lady I favored at the time; but that ain't here nor there. Guess most +o' the religion comes along o' the wimmin folk. 'Longside o' wimmin +men is muck." + +Tresler nodded his appreciation of the sentiment. + +"Gettin' religion's most like goin' on the bust. Hits yer sudden, an' +yer don't git off'n it easy. The signs is allus the same. You kind o' +worry when folks gits blasphemin', an' you don't feel like takin' a +hand to help 'em out. You hate winnin' at 'draw,' an' talks easy when +a feller holds 'fours' too frekent. An' your liquor turns on your +stummick. They're all signs," he added expansively. "When a feller +gits like that he'd best git right off to the meetin'-house. That's +how I tho't." + +"And you went?" + +"That's so. Say, an' it ain't easy. I 'lows my nerve's pretty right +fer most things, but when you git monkeyin' wi' religion it's kind o' +different. 'Sides, ther's allus fellers ter choke you off. Nassy +Wilkes, the s'loon-keeper, he'd had religion bad oncet, tho' I 'lows +he'd fergot most o't sence he'd been in the s'loon biz; he kind o' +skeered me some. Sed they used a deal o' water, an' mostly got ducking +greenhorns in it. Wal, I put ha'f a dozen slugs o' whisky down my +neck--which he sed would prevent me gittin' cold, seein' water wa'n't +in my line--an' hit the trail fer the meetin'." + +"What denomination?" asked Tresler, curiously. "What religion?" he +added, for the man's better understanding. + +"Wal, I don't rightly knows," Arizona went on gravely. "I kind o' +fancy the boys called 'em 'dippers'; but I guess this yarn don't call +fer no argyment," he added, with a suspicion of his volcanic temper +rising at the frequent interruptions. Then, as the other kept silence, +he continued in his earnest way, "Guess that meetin'-house wus mostly +empty. Ther' wus one feller ther' a'ready when I come. He wus playin' +toons on a kind o' 'cordian he worked wi' his feet----" + +"Harmonium," suggested Tresler, diffidently. + +"That's it. I could 'a' wep' as I looked at that feller, he wus that +noble. He'd long ha'r greased reg'lar, an' wore swaller-tails. Guess +he wus workin' that concertina-thing like mad; an' he jest looked +right up at the ceilin' as if he wer' crazy fer some feller to come +'long an' stop him 'fore he bust up the whole shootin' match." + +"Looked inspired," Tresler suggested. + +"Mebbe that's wot. Still, I wus glad I come. Then the folks come +along, an' the deac'n; an' the feller quit. Guess he wus plumb scart +o' that deac'n, tho' I 'lows he wus a harmless-lookin' feller 'nough. +I see him clear sheer out o' range on sight, which made me think he +wus a mean-sperrited cuss anyway. + +"Yes, I guess I wus glad I'd come; I felt that easy an' wholesome. +Say, the meetin's dead gut stuff. Yes, sir--dead gut. I felt I'd never +handle a gun again; I couldn't 'a' blasphemed 'longside a babby ef +you'd give me ten dollars to try. An' I guess ther' wa'n't no dirty +Greaser as I couldn't ha' loved like a brother, I wus that soothed, +an' peaceful, an' saft feelin'. I jest took a chaw o' plug, an' sat +back an' watched them folks lookin' so noble as they come along in +the'r funeral kids an' white chokers. Then the deac'n got good an' +goin', an' I got right on to the 'A-mens,' fetchin' 'em that easy I +wished I'd never done nothin' else all my life. I set ther' feelin' +real happy." + +Arizona paused, and his wild eyes softened as his thoughts went back +to those few happy moments of his chequered career. Then he heaved a +deep sigh of regret and went on-- + +"But it wa'n't to last. No, sir, religion ain't fer the likes o' me. +Ye can't play the devil an' mix wi' angels. They're bound to out you. +Et's on'y natteral. Guess I'd bin chawin' some, an' ther' wa'n't no +spit boxes. That's wher' the trouble come. Ther' wus a raw-boned cuss +wi' his missis settin' on the bench front o' me, an' I guess her silk +fixin's got mussed up wi' t'bacca juice someways. I see her look down +on the floor, then she kind o' gathered her skirts aroun' her an' got +wipin' wi' her han'k'chief. Then she looks aroun' at me, an', me +feelin' friendly, I kind o' smiled at her, not knowin' she wus riled. +Then she got whisperin' to her wall-eyed galoot of a man, an' he turns +aroun' smart, an' he sez, wi' a scowl, sez he, 'The meetin'-house +ain't no place fer chawin' hunks o' plug, mister; wher' wus you +dragged from?' Ther' wus a nasty glint to his eye. But ef he wus goin' +to fergit we wus in the meetin'-house I meant showin' him I wa'n't. So +I answers him perlite. Sez I, wi' a smile, 'Sir,' sez I, 'I take it we +ain't from the same hog trough.' I see he took it mean, but as a +feller got up from behind an' shouts 'Silence,' I guessed things would +pass over. But that buzzard-headed mule wus cantankerous. He beckons +the other feller over an' tells him I wus chawin', an' the other +feller sez to me: 'You can't chaw here, mussin' up the lady's +fixin's.' + +"Wal, bein' on'y human, I got riled, but, not wishin' to raise a +racket, I spat my chew out. I don't know how it come, but, I guess, +bein' riled, I jest didn't take notice wher' I dumped it, till, kind +o' sudden-like, I found I wus inspectin' the vitals o' that +side-show-freak's gun. Sez he, in a nasty tone, which kind o' +interrupted the deac'n's best langwidge, an' made folks fergit to +fetch the 'A-men' right, 'You dog-gone son of a hog----' But I didn't +wait fer no more. I sees then what's amiss. My chaw had located itself +on the lady's ankle--which I 'lows wus shapely--which she'd left +showin' in gatherin' her fixin's aroun' her. I see that, an' I see his +stovepipe hat under the seat. I jest grabbed that hat sudden, an' +'fore he'd had time to drop his hammer I'd mushed it down on his head +so he couldn't see. Then I ups, wi' the drop on him, an' I sez: 'Come +right along an' we'll settle like honest cit'zens.' An' wi' that I +backed out o' the meetin'. Wal, I guess he wus clear grit. We settled. +I 'lows he wus a dandy at the bizness end o' a gun, an' I walked lame +fer a month after. But ther' was a onattached widdy in that town when +we'd done." + +"You killed him?" Tresler asked. + +"Wal, I didn't wait to ast no details. Guess I got busy fergittin' +religion right off. Mebbe ther's a proper time fer ev'rything, an' I +don't figger it's reas'nable argyfyin' even wi' a deac'n when his +swaller-tail pocket's bustin' wi' shootin' materials. No, sir, guess +religion ain't no use fer me." + +Arizona heaved a deep sigh of regret. Tresler gathered up his saddle +and bridle. Once or twice he had been ready to explode with laughter +during his companion's story, but the man's evident sincerity and +earnestness had held him quiet; had made him realize that the story +was in the nature of a confidence, and was told in no spirit of +levity. And, somehow, now, at the end of it, he felt sorry for this +wandering outcast, with no future and only a disreputable past. He +knew there was far more real good in him than bad, and yet there +seemed no possible chance for him. He would go on as he was; he would +"punch" cattle so long as he could find employment. And when chance, +or some other matter, should plunge him on his beam ends, he would +take to what most cowboys in those days took to when they fell upon +evil days--cattle-stealing. And, probably, end his days dancing at the +end of a lariat, suspended from the bough of some stout old tree. + +As he moved to go, Arizona rose abruptly from his seat, and stayed him +with a gesture. + +"Guess I got side-tracked yarnin'. I wanted to tell you a few things +that's bin doin' sence you've bin away." + +Tresler stood. + +"Say," the other went on at once, "ther's suthin' doin' thick 'tween +Jake an' blind hulks. Savee? I heerd Jake an' Miss Dianny gassin' at +the barn one day. She wus ther' gittin' her bit of a shoe fixed by +Jacob--him allus fixin' her shoes for her when they needs it--an' Jake +come along and made her go right in an' look at the new driver he wus +breakin' fer her. Guess they didn't see me, I wus up in the loft +puttin' hay down. When they come in I wus standin' takin' a chaw, an' +Jake's voice hit me squar' in the lug, an' I didn't try not to hear +what he said. An' I soon felt good that I'd held still. Sez he, 'You +best come out wi' me an' learn to drive her. She's dead easy.' An' +Miss Dianny sez, sez she, 'I'll drive her when she's thoroughly +broken!' An' he sez, 'You mean you ain't goin' out wi' me?' An' she +answers short-like, 'No.' Then sez he, mighty riled, 'You shan't go +out with that mare by yourself to meet no Treslers,' sez he. 'I'll +promise you that. See? Your father's on to your racket, I've seen to +that. He knows you an' him's bin sparkin', an' he's real mad. That's +by the way,' he sez. 'What I want to tell you's this. You're goin' to +marry me, sure. See? An' your father's goin' to make you.' An' Miss +Dianny jest laffed right out at him. But her laff wa'n't easy. An' sez +she, wi' mock 'nuff to make a man feel as mean as rank sow-belly, +'Father will never let me marry, and you know it.' An' Jake stands +quiet a minnit. Then I guess his voice jest rasped right up to me +through that hay-hole. 'I'm goin' to make him,' sez he, vicious-like. +'A tidy ranch, this, eh? Wal, I tell you his money an' his stock an' +his land won't help him a cent's worth ef he don't give you to me. I +ken make him lick my boots if I so choose. See?' Ther' wa'n't another +word spoke. An' I heerd 'em move clear. Then I dropped, an' pushin' my +head down through the hay-hole, I see that Jake's goin' out by +hisself. Miss Dianny had gone out clear ahead, an' wus talkin' to +Jacob." + +"What do you think it means?" asked Tresler, quietly. + +And in a moment the other shot off into one of his volcanic surprises. + +"I ain't calc'latin' the'r meanin'. Say, Tresler." The man paused, and +his great rolling eyes glanced furtively from right to left. Then he +came close up and spoke in a harsh whisper. "It's got to be. He ain't +fit to live. This is wot I wus thinkin'. I'll git right up to his +shack, an' I'll call him every son-of-a---- I ken think of. See? He'll +git riled, an'--wal, I owe her a debt o' gratitood, an' I can't never +pay it no other ways, so I'll jest see my slug finds his carkis right, +'fore he does me in." + +Arizona stepped back with an air of triumph. He could see no flaw in +his plan. It was splendid, subtle. + +It was the one and only way to settle all the problems centering round +the foreman. Thus he would pay off a whole shoal of debts, and rid +Diane of Jake forever. And he felt positively injured when Tresler +shook his head. + +"You would pay her ill if you did that," he said gravely. "Jake was +probably only trying to frighten her. Besides, he is her father's +foreman. The man he trusts and relies on." + +"You ain't got no savee," Arizona broke out in disgust. "Say, he won't +need no foreman when Jake's out of the way. You'll marry the gal, +an'----" + +But he got no further. Tresler interrupted him coldly. + +"That's enough, Arizona. We aren't going to discuss it further. In the +meantime, believe me that I am wide awake to my position, and to Miss +Marbolt's, and ready to do the best for her in emergency. I must get +on now, for I have several things to do before I turn in." + +Arizona had no more to say. He relapsed into moody silence, and, as +they moved away together, Tresler was thankful for the freakish chance +that had made this man come to him with his plan before putting it +into execution. It was dark now, and as they reached the bunkhouse +they parted. Tresler deposited his saddle at the barn, but he did not +return to the bunkhouse. He meant to see Diane before he turned in, by +hook or by crook. + +He knew that the time had come when he must actively seek to help her. +When Jake openly threatened her, and she was found weeping, there was +certainly need of that help. He was alarmed, seriously alarmed, and +yet he hardly knew what it was he feared most. He quite realized the +difficulties that confronted him. She had given him no right to +interfere in her affairs. More, she would have every reason to resent +such interference. But, in spite of this, he held to his resolve. It +was his love that urged him on, his love that overbore his scruples, +his gravest apprehensions. He told himself that he had the right which +every man has. The right to woo and win for himself the love he +covets. It was for Diane to say "yea" or "nay," not her father. There +was no comfort she had been accustomed to, or even luxury, that he +could not give her. There was no earthly reason why he should not try +to win her. He vividly called to mind what Joe had suggested, and +Arizona's unfinished sentence rang in his ears, but both suggestions +as a basis of hope he set aside with a lover's egotism. What could +these men know or understand of such a matter? + +He had left the barn, and his way took him well out from the ranch +yards in the direction of the pinewoods. He remembered his walk on his +first night on the ranch, and meant to approach the back of the blind +man's house by the same route. + +The calm of the prairie night had settled upon the ranch. The lowing +of the cattle was hushed, the dogs were silent; and the voices of men +and the tramp of horses' hoofs were gone. There was only the harsh +croaking of the frogs in the Mosquito River and the cry of the +prowling coyote to disturb the peace of the summer night. + +And as he walked, he felt for the first time something of the grip +which sooner or later the prairie fixes upon those who seriously seek +life upon its bosom. Its real fascination begins only when the first +stages of apprenticeship to its methods and habits are passing. The +vastness of its world, its silence, its profound suggestion of +solitude, which ever remains even where townships and settlements +exist, holds for man a fascination which appeals to the primitive +senses and drags him back from the claims of civilization to the old, +old life. And when that call comes, and the latent savage is roused +from the depths of subjection, is it wonder that men yield to what, +after all, is only the true human instinct--the right of the +individual to defend itself from all attacks of foes? No; and so +Tresler argued as he thought of the men who were his comrades. + +Under the influence of his new feelings it seemed to him that life was +so small a thing, on which folks of civilization set much too high a +value. The ready appeal to the gun, which seemed to be one of the +first principles of the frontiersman's life, was already beginning to +lose its repugnance for him. After all, where no arbitration could be +enforced, men still had a right to defend self and property. + +His thoughts wandered on through a maze of argument which convinced +him notwithstanding he told himself that it was all wrong. He told +himself weakly that his thoughts were the result of the demoralizing +influence of lawless associates, but, in spite of this, he felt that +there was, in reality, something in them of a deeper, more abiding +nature. + +He had made the woodland fringe, and was working his way back toward +the house. The darkness was profound here. The dense, sad-foliaged +pines dropped their ponderous boughs low about him as he passed, +shielding him from all possible view from the ranch. And, even over +the underlay of brittle cones, his moccasined feet bore him along in +a silent, ghostly manner. It was the first time in his life he had +been forced to steal upon anybody's house like a thief in the night; +but he felt that his object was more than sufficient justification. + +Now he looked keenly for any sign of lights among the ranch buildings. +The bunkhouse was in darkness, but Jake's house was still lit up. +However, this did not bother him much. He knew that the foreman was in +the habit of keeping his lamp burning, even after retiring. Perhaps he +read at night. The idea amused him, and he wondered what style of +literature might appeal to a man of Jake's condition of mind. But even +as he watched, the light went out, and he felt more satisfied. + +He reached a point on the edge of the forest opposite the barn. Then +something brought him up with a start. Some unusual sound had caught +his ear. It was the murmur of voices in the distance. Immediately his +mind went back to his first night on the ranch, and he remembered Red +Mask and his attendant horseman. Now he listened, peering hard into +the darkness in the direction of the house, at the point whence the +sound was proceeding. Whoever were talking they seemed to be standing +still. The sound grew no louder, nor did it die away. His curiosity +drew him on; and with cautious steps, he crept forward. + +He tried to estimate how far the speakers were from the house. It +seemed to him that they were somewhere in the neighborhood of the +rancher's private stable. But he could not be altogether sure. + +Now, as he drew nearer, the voices became louder. He could distinctly +hear the rise and fall of their tones, but still they were +unrecognizable. Again he paused, this time for caution's sake only. He +estimated that he was within twenty-five yards of the stable. It would +not be safe to go further. The steady murmur that reached him was +tantalizing. Under ordinary circumstances he would have risked +discovery and gone on, but he could not jeopardize his present object. + +He stretched himself under the shelter of a low bush, and, strangely +enough, recognized it as the one he had lain under on that memorable +first night. This realization brought him a grim foreboding; he knew +what he expected, he knew what was coming. And his foreboding was +fulfilled within a few seconds of taking up his position. + +Suddenly he heard a door close, and the voices ceased speaking. He +waited almost breathlessly for the next move. It came. The crackling +of pine cones under shod hoofs sounded sharply to his straining ears. +It was a repetition of what had happened before. Two horsemen were +approaching from the direction of the house. It was inevitable that +his hand should go to his gun, and, as he realized his own action, he +understood how surely the prairie instincts had claimed him. But he +withdrew it quickly and waited, for he had no intention of taking +action. It might be Red Mask. It probably was. But he had no intention +of upsetting his present plans by any blind, precipitate attack upon +the desperado. Besides, if Red Mask and Jake were one, then the +shooting of him, in cold blood, in the vicinity of the ranch, would, +in the eyes of the police, be murder. No story of his would convince a +jury that the foreman of Mosquito Bend was a cattle-rustler. + +A moment later the horses dimly outlined themselves. There were two of +them, as before. But he could not see well, the woods seemed darker +than before; and, besides, they did not pass so near to him. They went +on like ghostly, silent shadows, only the scrunch of the cones +underfoot told of their solidity. + +He waited until the sound died out, then he rose quietly and pursued +his way. But what he had just witnessed plunged his thoughts into a +moody channel. The night-riders were abroad again, riding unchecked +upon their desperate way, over the trail of murder and robbery they +cut for themselves wherever they went. He wondered with dread who was +to be victim to-night. He remembered Manson Orr and shuddered. He had +a bitter feeling that he had acted wrongly in letting them pass +unchallenged in spite of what reason and a cool judgment told him. His +duty had been to investigate, but he also thought of a sad-faced girl, +friendless and alone, weeping her heart out in the midst of her own +home. And somehow his duty faded out before the second picture. And, +as though to further encourage him, the memory of Joe Nelson's words +came to him suddenly, and continued to haunt him persistently. + +"You'll jest round that gal up into your own corrals, an' set your own +brand on her quick, eh?" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE RISING OF A SUMMER STORM + + +When the horsemen had passed out of hearing, Tresler still exerted the +utmost caution. He had yet to pass the blind man's room, and he knew +that that individual's hearing was something bordering on the +marvelous, and, he argued, he must still be up, or, at least, awake. +So he moved on with the lightest tread, with every sense alert; +watchful alike for every unusual sound or movement. At the stable he +paused and gently tried the door. It was fast. He put his ear to it +and listened, and was forced to be content with the rattle of the +collar chains, and the sound of the heavy-breathing animals within. He +would have liked to investigate further, for the noise of the shutting +door, he knew, had come from the stable, but it behooved him to +refrain. It would be worse than useless to rouse the man, Anton, who +slept over the stable. And there was no other means of ascertaining +what had been going on. + +He crept on; and now the shadowy outline of the house itself shut him +off from the ranch. He cleared the danger zone of the rancher's +bedroom and reached the kitchen, where he met with a first +disappointment. He was relieved and delighted to find that a light was +still burning there; but his joy was dashed almost immediately by +finding that the linen blind was down, and not a crack showed by +which he could get a view of the room. He dared not go to the door +until he had ascertained who was within, so he stood for a moment +uncertain what to do. Then he suddenly remembered that the kitchen had +another window on the far side of the lean-to. It would mean passing +out into the open again; still, the darkness was such that the risk +was reduced to a minimum. + +With no further hesitation he hurried round. His only care now was to +tread quietly, and even this seemed unnecessary, for the blind man's +room was at the other side of the house, and, if his suspicions were +correct, Jake was busy at his nocturnal trade. Fortune favored him. +The blind was down, but the lower sash of the window was raised, and +he saw that, by pulling the linen on one side, he could obtain a full +view of the room. + +He was about to carry out his purpose. His hand was raised and +reaching toward the window, when the sound of weeping came to him and +checked his action. He stood listening for a second. Then, with a +stifled ejaculation, he thrust his hand out further, and caught the +edge of the blind. + +He paused for nothing now. He had no scruples. He knew without inquiry +who it was that was weeping within; who else but Diane could it be? +And at the sound of each choking sob, his heart was wrung, and he +longed to clasp her in his arms and comfort her. This love of his +which had taken its place so suddenly in his life thrilled through his +body like a fiery torrent roused to fever heat by the sound of the +girl's sobs. + +Drawing the edge of the blind sharply on one side, he peered into the +room. His worst fears were realized. Diane was at the far side of the +kitchen sitting over the square cook-stove, rocking herself to and fro +in an access of misery, and, in what seemed to him, an attitude of +physical suffering. Her pretty head was bowed low upon her hands, and +her whole frame was shaken by the sobs she was struggling hard to, but +could not, suppress. + +He took all this in at a glance, then his eyes rested upon her arms. +The sleeves of her dress had been unfastened, and were thrown back +from her wrists, leaving them bare to the elbow. And he saw, to his +horror and indignation, that the soft, rounded flesh of her forearm +was swollen and bruised. The sight made him clench his teeth, and his +blue eyes suddenly hardened. He no longer permitted caution to govern +his actions. + +"Hist, Diane!" he whispered hoarsely. And he shook the stiff blind to +further draw her attention. "It is I, Tresler," he went on urgently. + +And the girl sprang from her seat instantly and faced the window. She +dashed her hand across her eyes and hastily sought to readjust her +sleeves. But the pitiful attempt to thus hide her trouble only made +the signs more marked. The tears still flowed, in spite of her bravest +manner, and no effort of hers was able to keep the sweet lips from +quivering. + +She took one step in the direction of the window, but drew up with +such a violent start and expression of alarm in her tearful eyes, that +Tresler peered all round the room for the cause. He saw nothing more +startling than a slumbering cat and the fragments of a broken lamp +upon the floor, and his eyes went back to her again. Then, as he +marked her attitude of attention, he understood. She was listening for +the familiar but ominous "tap, tap" of her father's stick. He too +listened. Then, as no sound came to his straining ears, he spoke +again. + +"I must speak with you, Miss Diane," he whispered. "Open the back +door." + +It was only after making his demand that he realized how impossible it +must have sounded to the distraught girl. It was the first time, since +he had set out to see her, that it occurred to him how one-sided was +the proposition. She had no knowledge of his resolve to thrust his aid +upon her. He told himself that she could have no possible inkling of +his feelings toward her; and he waited with no little anxiety for her +response. + +Nor was that response long in coming. She made another effort to dash +the tears from her eyes. Then, half defiantly and half eagerly, she +stepped up to the window. + +"Go round to the door, quick!" she whispered, and moved off again as +though she stood in imminent peril as a consequence of her words. + +And Tresler was round at the door and standing in the shadow of the +water-barrel before the bolt was slipped back. Now, as the girl raised +the latch and silently opened the door, he slid within. He offered no +explanation, but simply pointed to the window. + +"We must close that," he said in a low tone. + +And Diane obeyed without demur. There was a quiet unobtrusive force +about this man whenever his actions were directed into a definite +channel. And Diane found herself complying without the least +resentment, or even doubt as to the necessity for his orders. Now she +came back to him, and raised a pair of trusting eyes to his face, and +he, looking down into them, thought he had never gazed upon anything +so sweetly pathetic; nor had he ever encountered anything quite so +rousing as the implicit trust of her manner toward him. Whatever he +had felt for her before, it was as nothing to the delicious sense of +protection, the indefinable wave of responsibility, almost parental, +that now swept over him. He felt that, come what might, she was his to +cherish, to guard, to pilot through whatever shoals her life might +hold for her. It was the effect of her simple womanly trust appealing +to his manhood, unconsciously for her part, but nevertheless surely. +Nor was that feeling only due to his love for her; it was largely the +chivalrous instinct of a brave and strong man for a weak woman that +filled his heart at that moment. + +"There is a lot for us to talk about," he said. "A lot that others +mustn't hear," he added thoughtfully. + +"What others?" Diane asked anxiously. + +Tresler deemed it best to avoid half measures, and answered with +prompt decision-- + +"Your father, for one." + +"Then," said Diane, steadying at once, "we had better close the door +into the passage." + +She suited the action to the word, and returned dry-eyed and calm. + +"My father?" Her question was sharp; it was a demand. + +Instead of answering her, Tresler pointed to the broken lamp on the +floor. + +"You have had an accident," he said, and his blue eyes compelled hers, +and held them. + +"Yes," she said, after the least possible hesitation. Then, not +without a slight touch of resentment: "But you have not answered my +question." + +"I'll answer that later on. Let me go on in my own way." + +The girl was impressed with the gravity of his manner. She felt uneasy +too. She felt how impossible it would be to hide anything from this +man, who, quiet yet kindly, could exercise so masterful an influence +over her. And there was a good deal just now she would have liked to +keep from him. While they were talking she drew the sleeves of her +dress down over her bruised wrists. Tresler saw the action and called +her attention to the blackened flesh she was endeavoring to hide. + +"Another accident?" he asked. And Diane kept silence. "Two accidents, +and--tears," he went on, in so gentle a tone that fresh tears slowly +welled up into her eyes. "That is quite unlike you, Miss--Diane. One +moment. Let me look." He reached out to take her hands, but she drew +away from him. He shrugged his shoulders. "I wonder if it were an +accident?" he said, his keen eyes searching her face. "It would be +strange to bruise both wrists by--accident." + +The girl held silent for a while. It was evident that a struggle was +going on in her mind. Tresler watched. He saw the indecision. He knew +how sorely he was pressing his advantage. Yet he must do it, if he +would carry out his purpose. He felt that he was acting the brute, but +it was the only way. Every barrier must be swept aside. At last she +threw her head back with an impatient movement, and a slight flush of +anger tinged her cheeks. + +"And what if it were no accident?" + +"The bruises or the lamp?" + +"Both." + +"Then"--and Tresler's tone was keenly incisive--"it is the work of +some cruelly disposed person. You would not wilfully bruise yourself, +Diane," he moved nearer to her, and his voice softened wonderfully; +"is there any real reason why you cannot trust me with the truth? May +I not share something of your troubles? See, I will save you the pain +of the telling. If I am right, do not answer me, and I shall +understand. Your father has been here, and it was his doing--these +things." + +The anger had passed out of the girl's face, and her eyes, troubled +enough but yielding, looked up into his. + +"But how do you----?" + +"Some one, we both know whom, has maliciously been talking to your +father," Tresler went on, without heeding the interruption; "has been +lying to him to prejudice him against me--us. And your father has +accepted his tales without testing their veracity. Having done so, he +has spoken to you. What has passed between you I do not know, nor +shall I attempt to fathom. The result is more than sufficient for me. +You are unhappy; you have been unusually unhappy for days. You have +wept much, and now you bear signs of violence on your arms." + +Diane averted her gaze, her head was bent, and her eyes were fixed +upon the broken lamp. + +"Shall I go on?" Tresler continued. "Shall I tell you the whole story? +Yes, I had better." + +Diane nodded without looking at him. + +"You know most of it, but you may not have looked at it quite in the +same way that I do." His tone was very low, there was a great depth of +earnestness in it. "We are all in the midst of a foul conspiracy, and +that conspiracy it is for us to break up. Your father is threatened. +You know it. And you are threatened with marriage to a rascal that +should be wiped off the face of the earth. And this is the work of one +man whom we believe to be the scourge of the countryside; whom we call +Red Mask or Jake Harnach, according to when and where we meet him. +Now, is this all to go on without protest? Will you submit? Is your +father to be victimized?" + +The girl shook her head. + +"No," she said. Then with a sudden burst of passion she went on, only +keeping her voice low by the greatest effort. "But what can we do? I +have warned father. He has been told all that you have told me. He +laughed. And I grew angry. Then he grew angry, too. And--and these +things are the result. Oh, he hates you because he believes Jake's +stories. And he scorns all my accusations against Jake, and treats me +worse than some silly, tattling servant girl. How can we do anything?" + +It was that last question that set fire to the powder-train. She had +coupled herself with him, and Tresler, seeking only the faintest +loophole, jumped at the opportunity it afforded him. His serious face +softened. A slow, gentle smile crept into his eyes, and Diane was held +by their caressing gaze. + +"We can do something. We are going to do something," he said. "Not +singly, but together; you and I." + +There was that in his manner that made the girl droop her eyelids. +There was a warmth, a light in his eyes he had never permitted her to +see before, and her woman's instinct set her heart beating fast, so +fast that she trembled and fidgeted nervously. + +"Diane," he went on, reaching out and quietly taking possession of one +of her hands, and raising it till the bared wrist displayed the cruel +bruise encircling it, "no man has a right to lay a hand upon a woman +to give her pain. A woman has a right to look to her men-folk to +protect her, and when they fail her, she is indeed in sore straits. +This," touching the bruises with his finger, "is the work of your +father, the man of all who should protect you. You are sadly alone, so +much alone that I cannot see what will be the end of it--if it is +allowed to go on. Diane, I love you, and I want you, henceforward, to +let me be your protector. You will need some whole-hearted support in +the future. I can see it. And you can see it too. Say, tell me, +little girl, fate has pitched us together in a stormy sea, surely it +is for me to aid you with all the loving care and help I can bestow. +Believe me, I am no idle boaster. I do not even say that my protection +will be worth as much as that of our faithful old Joe, but, such as it +is, it is yours, whether you take me with it or no, for as long as I +live." + +Diane had had time to recover from her first embarrassment. She knew +that she loved this man; knew that she had done so almost from the +very first. He was so different from the men she had known about the +ranch. She understood, and acknowledged without shame, the feeling +that had prompted her first warning to him. She knew that ever since +his coming to the ranch he had hardly ever been out of her thoughts. +She had never attempted to deceive herself about him. All she had +feared was that she might, by some chance act, betray her feelings to +him, and so earn his everlasting contempt. She was very simple and +single-minded. She had known practically no association with her sex. +Her father, who had kept her a willing slave by his side all her life, +had seen to that. And so she had been thrown upon her own resources, +with the excellent result that she had grown up with a mind untainted +by any worldly thought. And now, when this man came to her with his +version of the old, old story, she knew no coquetry, knew how to +exercise no coyness or other blandishment. She made no pretense of any +sort. She loved him, so what else was there to do but to tell him so? + +"Joe has been my faithful protector for years, Mr. Tresler," she +replied, her sweet round face blushing and smiling as she raised it to +him, "and I know his value and goodness. But--but I'd sooner have +you--ever so much." + +And of her own accord she raised her other hand to his and placed it +trustfully within his only too willing clasp. But this was not +sufficient for Tresler. He reached out and took her in his powerful +arms and drew her to his breast. And when he released her there were +tears again in her eyes, but they were tears of happiness. + +"And now, sweetheart, we must be practical again," he said. "If I am +to be your protector, I must not allow my inclination to interfere +with duty. Some day, when you are my wife, we shall be able to look +back on this time and be proud of our restraint. Just now it is hard. +It is a moment for kisses and happy dreams, and these things are +denied us----" + +He broke off and started as the flutter of the linen blind behind him +drew his attention. + +"I thought you shut the window," he said sharply. + +"I thought I did; perhaps I didn't quite close it." + +Diane was about to move over to investigate, but Tresler restrained +her. + +"Wait." + +He went instead. The window was open about six inches. He closed and +bolted it, and came back with a smile on his face that in no way +deceived the girl. + +"Yes, you left it open," he said. + +And Diane's reply was an unconvinced "Ah!" + +"Now let us be quick," he went on. "Jake may threaten and bully, but +he can do nothing to really hurt you. You are safe from him. For, +before anything can possibly happen--I mean to you--I shall be on hand +to help you. Joe is our watch-dog, asking his pardon. You can take +heart in the thought that you are no longer alone. But developments +are imminent, and I want you to watch your father closely, and +endeavor to ascertain Jake's attitude toward him. This is my +fear--that Jake may put some nefarious scheme, as regards him, into +operation; such schemes as we cannot anticipate. He may even try to +silence me, or make me ineffective in some way before such time comes +along. He may adopt some way of getting rid of me----" + +"What way?" There was a world of fear and anxiety in Diane's question, +and she drew up close to him as though she would protect him with her +own frail body. + +Tresler shrugged. "I don't know. But it doesn't matter; I have my +plans arranged. The thing that is of more importance is the fact that +the night-riders are abroad again. I saw them on my way here. At the +same spot where I saw them before. This time I shall not conceal my +knowledge of the fact." + +"You mean you will tell Jake--to his face?" + +Diane gave a little gasp, and her beautiful eyes fixed themselves +apprehensively upon his. They had in their depths a soft look of +admiration, in spite of her anxiety and fear. But Tresler saw nothing +of that. He took her question seriously. + +"Certainly; it is my only means of getting into line of battle. By +this means I shall make myself the centre of open attack--if all our +surmises be true. It is getting late and I must go. I want to witness +the return of the ruffians." + +A silence fell. The man had said it was time for him to go, but he +found it hard to tear himself away. He wanted to say so much to her; +he wanted to ask her so much. Diane, half shyly, came a step nearer to +him, and, though her face was smiling bravely, a pucker wrinkled her +brows. + +"Mr. Tresler----" + +"I was christened 'John.'" + +"John, then." The girl blushed faintly as she pronounced the name, +which, spoken by her, seemed to seal the bond between them. "Is it +absolutely necessary to tell Jake? Is it absolutely necessary to put +yourself in such peril? Couldn't you----" + +But she got no further. Her lover's arms were about her in an instant. +He caught her to him in a great embrace and kissed her pleading, +upturned face. + +"Yes, yes, yes, child. It is absolutely necessary. No, you can't go +yet," as she struggled feebly to free herself. "I ought to leave you +now, yet I can hardly tear myself away. I have heaps to ask you: about +yourself, your life, your father. I want to learn all there is in your +little head, in your heart, little girl. I want to make our bond of +love one of perfect sympathy and understanding of each other; of trust +and confidence. It is necessary. We come together here with +storm-clouds gathering on our horizon; with the storm actually +breaking. We come together under strange and unusual circumstances, +and must fight for this love of ours. Ours will be no flower-strewn +path. This much I have fully realized; but it only makes me the more +determined to see it through quickly. We have to fight--good. We will +be early in the field. Now good-night, sweetheart. God bless you. +Trust to me. Whatever I do will be done after careful deliberation; +with a view to our common goal. If I am wrong, so much the worse. I +will do all that is given me to do. And, last, remember this. Should +anything happen to me, you have two friends who will never let Jake +marry you. They are Joe and Arizona. Now, good-bye again." + +"But nothing will happen to you--Jack?" + +Every vestige of independence, every atom of the old self-reliance had +gone from the girl's manner. She clung to him, timid, loving, a +gentle, weak woman. Her whole soul was in her appeal and the look she +bestowed. + +"I hope not. Courage, little woman. I remember the white dress, the +sad, dark little face beneath the straw sun-hat of the girl who knew +no fear when two men held thoughts of slaying each other, and were +almost in the act of putting them into execution. You must remember +her too." + +"You are right, Jack. I will be brave and help you, if I can. +Good-bye." + +They kissed once more, and Tresler hurried from the room with the +precipitancy of a man who can only hold to his purpose by an +ignominious flight from temptation. + +Outside the door he paused, turned, and closed it carefully after him. +And then he listened intently. He had in no way been deceived by the +window business. He knew, as Diane knew, that she had closed it. Some +hand from outside had opened it; and he wondered whose had been the +hand, and what the purpose. + +When he passed out of the kitchen, the whole aspect of the night had +changed. There was not a star visible, and the only light to guide him +was that which shone through the window. He waited while Diane bolted +the door, then, as nothing appeared to cause him alarm, he moved off. +He had to pass round the shed where Joe slept. This was an addition to +the kitchen, and quite shut off from the house. He groped his way +along the wall of it till he came to the door, which stood open. He +was half inclined to go in and rouse the little choreman. He felt that +he would like to tell his old friend of his luck, his happiness. Then +it flashed through his mind that, seeing the door was open, Joe might +still be abroad. So he contented himself with listening for the sound +of his breathing. All was still within; his conjecture was right. Joe +had not yet turned in. + +He was puzzled. Where was Joe, and what was he doing at this hour of +the night? + +He moved on slowly now. His thoughts were fully occupied. He was not +the man to let a single detail pass without careful analysis. And the +matter was curious. Especially in conjunction with the fact of the +open window. He attributed no treachery to Joe, but the thing wanted +explanation. He rounded the building, and as he did so understood the +change in the weather. A sharp gust of wind took him, and he felt +several drops of rain splash upon his face. A moment later a flash of +lightning preceded a distant rumble of thunder. + +He quickened his pace and drew out into the open, leaving the shadow +of the woods behind him as he turned toward the ranch buildings. The +light in the kitchen had been put out. Evidently Diane had already +gone to bed. He stepped out briskly, and a moment later another flash +of lightning revealed the window close beside him. He mechanically +stretched out a hand and felt along the sill. It was tightly closed +all right. A crash of thunder warned him of the quick-rising summer +storm that was upon him, and the rain was coming down with that +ominous solidity which portends a real, if brief, deluge. He started +at a run. A drenching at that hour was unpleasant to contemplate. He +had intended witnessing the return of the night-riders, but, under the +circumstances, that was now out of the question. + +He had only gone a few paces when he brought up to a stand. Even +amidst the noisy splashing of the rain, he thought he heard the sound +of running feet somewhere near by; so he stood listening with every +nerve straining. Then the promised deluge came and drowned every other +sound. It was no use waiting longer, so he hurried on toward his +quarters. + +A dozen strides further on and the sky was split from end to end with +a fork of lightning, and he was brought to a dead halt by the scene +it revealed. It was gone in an instant, and the thunder crashed right +above him. He had distinctly seen the figures of two men running. One +was running toward him, and, curiously enough, the other was running +from his left rear. And yet he had seen them both. Utterly heedless of +the rain now, he waited for another flash. There was something strange +doing, and he wished to fathom the mystery. + +The duration of the storm was only a matter of a few minutes. It +seemed to have spent itself in one flash of lightning and one peal of +thunder. The second flash was long in coming. But at last a hazy sheet +of white light shone for a second over the western sky, revealing the +ghostly shadow of a man coming at him, bearing in his upraised hand +some heavy weapon of offense. He leapt to avoid the blow. But he was +too late. The weapon descended, and, though he flung his arms to +protect himself, the darkness foiled him, and a crushing blow on the +head felled him to the ground. And as he fell some great noise roared +in his ears, or so it seemed, and echoed and reechoed through his +head. Then he knew no more. + +All sound was lost in the deluge of rain. The sky was unrelieved by +any further flashes of light for many minutes. Then, at last, one +came. A weak, distant lighting up of the clouds, overhead, but it was +sufficient to show the outstretched form of the stricken man lying +with his white face staring up at the sky. Also it revealed a shadowy +figure bending over him. There was no face visible, no distinct +outline of form. And this figure was moving, and appeared to be +testing the lifeless condition of the fallen man. + +Half an hour later the rain ceased, but the water was still racing +down the hill in little trickling rivulets toward the ranch buildings. +And as rapidly as the storm had come up so the sky cleared. Again the +stars shone out and a faint radiance dimly outlined the scene of the +attack. + +Within fifty yards of the rancher's house Tresler was still stretched +out upon the ground, but now a different figure was bending over him. +It was a well-defined figure this time, a familiar figure. A little +man with a gray head and a twisted face. + +It was Joe Nelson trying, by every rough art his prairie life had +taught him, to restore animation and consciousness in his friend. For +a long time his efforts were unavailing; the task seemed hopeless. +Then, when the little man had begun to fear the very worst, his +patient suddenly moved and threw out his legs convulsively. Once the +springs of life had been set in motion, the hardy constitution +asserted itself, and, without further warning, Tresler sat bolt +upright and stared about him wonderingly. For a few seconds he sat +thus, then, with a movement of intense agony, one hand went up to his +head. + +"My God! What's the matter with me? My head!" + +He slowly rocked himself for a brief spell; then, with another start, +he recognized his friend, and, with an effort, sprang to his feet. + +"Joe!" he cried. Then he reeled and would have fallen but for the +supporting arm about his waist. + +"You wer' nigh 'done up.' Say, I wus kind o' rattled. I'd shaddered +that feller fer an hour or more, an' then lost him. Gee!" And there +was an infinite expression of disgust in the exclamation. + +"Him! Who?" + +"Ther's on'y one feller around here hatin' you fit to murder, I +guess." + +"You mean--Jake?" asked Tresler, in a queer tone. + +"Sure," was the emphatic reply. + +"But, Joe, I saw the night-riders go out to-night. Not more than half +an hour before the storm came on." + +The little man made no answer, but quietly urged his patient forward +in the direction of the bunkhouse. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE BEARDING OF JAKE + + +That night was one that lived long in Tresler's memory. Weary in mind +and body, he was yet unable to sleep when at last he sought his bunk. +His head was racked with excruciating pain, which hammered through his +brain with every pulsation of his throbbing temples. But it was not +that alone which kept him awake. Thought ran riot with him, and his +mind flew from one scene to another without concentration, without +continuity, until he felt that if sleep did not come he must go mad. + +He had talked late into the night with his shrewd counselor, Joe; and +the net result of their talk was that all their theories, suspicions, +deductions, were wrong. Jake and Red Mask were not one and the same. +In all probability Jake had nothing to do with the ruffianly raider. + +They were driven to this ultimate conclusion by the simple fact that +while Tresler had been witnessing the movements of the masked +night-rider, Joe had been zealously dogging the footsteps of the +foreman in the general interests of his mistress. And that +individual's footsteps had never once taken him to the rancher's +private stable. + +Jake had evidently been out on the spy himself. Of this Joe was +certain, for the man had scoured the woods in the direction of the +river; he had watched the trail from the rancher's stable for nearly +half an hour; he had crept up to the verandah of the house under cover +of the darkness, seeking Joe knew not what, but always on the alert, +always with the unmistakable patience of a man by no means new to such +a task. Once Joe had missed him in the woods. Somehow, like a gigantic +shadow, Jake had contrived to give him the slip. And this, on +comparing notes, the two friends found coincided with the time of the +episode of the unclosed window. Doubtless he had been the author of +that matter. They made up their minds that he had witnessed the scene +in the kitchen, which, of course, accounted for his later dastardly +attack. Who had Jake been out looking for? What was the object of his +espionage? Had he been looking for him, Tresler, or some one else? And +herein lay the mystery. Herein, perhaps, lay the key to the greater +problem they sought to solve. + +Hour after hour Tresler lay awake, lost in a confusion of thought +which refused his best efforts to straighten out. The acuteness of the +pain in his head set his mind almost wandering. And he found himself +aimlessly reviewing the events since his coming to Mosquito Bend. He +tossed wearily, drearily, on his unyielding palliasse, driven to a +realization of his own utter impotence. What had he done in the cause +he had espoused? Nothing--simply nothing. Worse; he had thrust himself +like some clumsy, bull-headed elephant, into the girl's life, into the +midst of her troubles, without even that animal's capacity for +attaining his object by sheer might. And the result was only to +aggravate her lot; to cause Jake to hasten his plans, and add threats +to his other persecutions. And as for the raiders, they were still at +large and no nearer capture than when he had first arrived. Yes, he +told himself, he had nothing but failure to his account. And that +failure, instead of being harmlessly negative, was an aggravation of +the situation. + +But at last, miserable, overwrought, and suffering as he was, sleep +came to him; a deep sleep that carried him far into the morning. + +He had been left undisturbed by his comrades when they turned out at +daybreak. Joe had seen to this. He had put them off with an invention +of his fertile imagination which satisfied them. Then, having hurried +through his own immediate morning duties, he waited, with that +philosophic patience which he applied now in his declining years to +all the greater issues of his life, for his friend's awakening. + +And when Tresler awoke he was wonderfully refreshed. His recuperative +faculties were remarkable. The aching of his head had passed away, and +with it the deplorable hopelessness of overnight. He sat up on his +bunk, and the first object that his gaze fell upon was the patient +figure of old Joe. + +"Well--Scott! it's late. What's the time? Where are the boys? What are +you doing here?" + +He fired his questions rapidly. But Joe was not to be hurried; neither +was he going to waste precious time on unnecessary talk. So he +shrugged his shoulders and indicated the departure of the men to work +with a backward jerk of his head, and, while Tresler performed his +brief toilet, got to business in his own way. + +"Feelin' good?" he asked. + +"Fair." + +"Goin' right up to see Jake?" + +"Yes. Where is he?" + +"In his shack. Say," the old man shifted uneasily, "I've tho't a +crateful sence we wus yarnin' last night, I guess. Don't git shuvin' +Jake too close agin the wall. Give him your yarn easy. Kind o' talk +han'some by him. He's goin' to figger this thing out fer us. He'll git +givin' us a lead, mebbe, when he ain't calc'latin' to. Savee?" + +Tresler didn't answer at once; in fact, he didn't quite see the old +man's point. He completed his toilet by buckling on his belt and +revolver. Then he prepared to depart. + +"We'll see. I intend to be governed by circumstances," he said +quietly. + +"Jest so. An' circumstances has the way o' governin' most things, +anyways. Guess I'm jest astin' you to rub the corners off'n them +circumstances so they'll run smooth." + +Tresler smiled at the manner of the old man's advice, which was plain +enough this time. + +"I see. Well, so long." + +He hurried out and Joe watched him go. Then the little man rose from +his seat and went out to Teddy Jinks's kitchen on the pretense of +yarning. In reality he knew that the foreman's hut was in full view +from the kitchen window. + +Tresler walked briskly across to the hut. He never in his life felt +more ready to meet Jake than he did at this moment. He depended on the +outcome of this interview for the whole of his future course. He did +not attempt to calculate the possible result. He felt that to do so +would be to cramp his procedure. He meant to work on his knowledge of +his rival's character. Herein lay his hopes of success. It was Joe who +had given him his cue. "It's the most dangerousest thing to hit a +'rattler' till you've got him good an' riled," the little man had once +said. "Then he lifts an' it's dead easy, I guess. Hit him lyin', an' +ef you don't kill him, ther's goin' to be trouble. Them critters has a +way of thinkin' hard an' quick or'nary." And Tresler meant to deal +with Jake in a similar manner. The rest must be left to the +circumstances they had discussed. + +It so happened that Jake, too, was late abed that morning. Tresler +found him just finishing the breakfast Jinks had brought him. Jake's +surly "Come in," in response to his knock, brought him face to face +with the last man he desired to see in his hut at that moment. And +Tresler almost laughed aloud as the great man sprang from the table, +nearly overturning it in his angry haste. + +"It's all right, Jake," he said with a smile, "I come in peace." + +And the other stood for a moment eyeing him fiercely, yet not knowing +quite how to take him. Without waiting for an invitation his visitor +seated himself on the end of the bunk and stared back squarely into +the angry face. It did him good, as he remembered the events of the +night before, to thus beard this man who hated him to the point of +murder. + +He waited for Jake to reply; and while his gaze wandered over the +cruel, intolerant, overbearing face he found himself speculating as to +the caste of that which lay hidden beneath the black, coarse mat of +beard. + +At last the reply came, and he had expected no better. + +"What in h---- are you doin' here?" Jake asked brutally. Then, as an +afterthought, "Why ain't you out on the range?" + +Tresler permitted himself to lounge over on his elbow and cross his +legs with an aggravating air of ease. + +"For much the same reason that you are only just finishing your grub. +I overslept myself." + +And he watched Jake choke back the furious retort that suddenly leapt +to his lips. It was evident, even to the intolerant disposition of the +foreman, that it was no time for abuse and anger. This man had come to +him for some particular purpose, and it behooved him to keep guard on +himself. The doings of the night before were in his mind, and he +realized that it would be well to meet him coolly. Therefore, instead +of the outburst so natural to him, he contented himself with a cool +survey of his antagonist, while he put a non-committing inquiry. + +"Wal?" + +And Tresler knew that his presence was accepted, and that he had +scored the first point. At once he assumed a businesslike air. He sat +up and generally displayed a briskness quite out of keeping with his +former attitude. + +"I suppose I ought to apologize for my intrusion," he began, "but when +you have heard my story, you will understand its necessity. I had a +busy night last night." + +If he had expected any effect from this announcement he was +disappointed. Jake's face never for a moment relaxed its grim look of +attention. + +"Yes," he went on, as the foreman remained silent. "These +raiders--this Red Mask, or whatever he is called--I saw him last +night. I saw him here on this ranch." + +Jake stirred. He eyed his companion as though he would read him +through and through. + +"You saw--Red Mask--last night?" he said slowly. + +"Yes. I saw him and one of his satellites." + +"Go on." It was all the man vouchsafed, but it spoke volumes. + +And Tresler at once proceeded with his story of the midnight visit of +the masked rider and his companion. He told his story in as few words +as possible, being careful to omit nothing, and laying a slight stress +on his own rambling in the neighborhood of the house. He was very +careful to confine himself to the matter of the apparition, avoiding +all allusion to the further happenings of the night. When he had +finished, which he did without any interruption from the other, Jake +spoke with quiet appreciation. + +"An' you've brought the yarn to me. For any partic'lar reason?" + +Tresler raised his eyebrows. "Certainly," he replied. "You are foreman +of the ranch. Mr. Marbolt's interests are yours." + +"That being so, I'd like to know what you were doing around the house +at that hour of the night?" was Jake's prompt retort. + +Tresler had looked for this. He knew perfectly well that Jake did not +expect his question to be answered. Didn't particularly want it +answered. It was simply to serve a purpose. He was trying to draw him. + +"That is my affair, Jake. For the moment, at least, let us set +personalities on one side. No doubt we have accounts to settle. I may +as well say at once we are in each other's debt. But this matter I am +speaking of is of personal interest to everybody around the district." + +All the time he was speaking, Tresler was watching for the smallest +change in Jake's manner. And as he went on his appreciation of the +fellow's capability rose. He realized that Jake was, after all, +something more than a mass of beef and muscle. As no comment was +forthcoming he went on rapidly. + +"Now, last night's apparition was not altogether new to me. I saw the +same thing the first night I arrived on the ranch, but, being 'green' +at the time, it lost its significance. Now, it is different. It needs +explaining. So I have come to you. But I have not come to you without +having considered the matter as fully as it is possible for one in my +position to do. Mark me carefully. I have weighed all the details of +Red Mask's raids; considered them from all points. Time and place, +distance, the apparitions around the ranch, for those ghostly visitors +have, at times, been seen in the neighborhood by others. And all these +things so tally that they have produced a conviction in my mind that +there is a prime mover in the business to be found on this ranch." + +"An' the prime mover?" Jake's interest had in no way relaxed. He +seemed to be eager to hear everything Tresler could tell him. The +latter shrugged. + +"Who is there on this ranch that cannot at all times be accounted for? +Only one man. Anton--Black Anton." + +A pause ensued. Tresler had played a high card. If Jake refused to be +drawn it would be awkward. The pause seemed endless and he was forced +to provoke an answer. + +"Well?" he questioned sharply. + +"Well," echoed the foreman; and the other noted the quiet derision in +his tone, "seems to me you've done a deal of figgering." + +Tresler nodded. + +Jake turned away with something very like a smile. Evidently he had +decided upon the course to be pursued. Tresler, watching him, could +not quite make up his mind whether he was playing the winning hand, or +whether his opponent was finessing for the odd trick. Jake suddenly +became expansive. + +"I'd like to know how we're standin' before we go further," he said; +"though, mind you, I ain't asking. I tell you candidly I ain't got no +use for you, and I guess it would take a microscope to see your +affection for me. This bein' so, I ask myself, what has this feller +come around with his yarn to me for? I allow there's two possible +reasons which strike me as bein' of any consequence. One is that, +maybe, some'eres in the back of your head, you've a notion that I know +a heap about this racket, and sort o' wink at it, seein' Marbolt's +blind, an' draw a bit out of the game. And the other is, you're +honest, an' tryin' to play the game right. Now, I'll ask you not to +get plumb scared when I tell you I think you're dead honest about this +thing. If I didn't--wal, maybe you'd be lit out of this shack by now." + +Jake reached over to the table and picked up a plug of tobacco and +tore off a chew with his great strong teeth. And Tresler could not +help marveling at the pincher-like power with which he bit through the +plug. + +"Now, Tresler, there's that between us that can never let us be +friends. I'm goin' to get level with you some day. But just now, as +you said, we can let things bide. I say you're honest in this thing, +and if you choose to be honest with me I'll be honest with you." + +One word flashed through Tresler's brain: "finesse." + +"I'm glad you think that way, Jake," he said seriously. "My object is +to get to the bottom of this matter." + +It was a neat play in the game, the way in which these two smoothed +each other down. They accepted each other's assurances with the +suavity of practiced lawyers, each without an atom of credence or good +faith. + +"Just so," Jake responded, with a ludicrous attempt at benignity. "An' +it's due to the fact that you've been smart enough to light on the +right trail, that I'm ready to tell you something I've been holding up +from everybody, even Marbolt himself. Mind, I haven't got the dead-gut +cinch on these folk yet, though I'm right on to 'em, sure. Anton, +that's the feller. I've tracked him from the other side of the line. +His real name's 'Tough' McCulloch, an' I guess I know as much as there +is to be known of him an' his history, which is pretty rotten. He's +wanted in Alberta for murder. Not one, but half a dozen. Say, shall I +tell you what he's doin'? He rides out of here at night, an' joins a +gang of scallywag Breeds, like himself, an' they are the crowd that +have been raiding all around us. And Anton--well, I'd like to gamble +my last dollar he's the fellow wearing the Red Mask. Say, I knew he +was out last night. He was out with two of the horses. I was around. +An' at daylight I went up to the stable while he was sleepin', an' the +dog-gone fool hadn't cleaned the saddle marks from their backs. Now, +if you're feeling like bearin' a hand in lagging this black +son-of-a---- I'm with you fair an' square. We won't shake hands, for +good reasons, but your word'll go with me." + +"Nothing would suit me better." + +Tresler was struggling to fathom the man's object. + +"Good. Now we'll quietly go up to the stable. Maybe you can tell if a +horse has been recently saddled, even after grooming?" + +"Yes." + +"Then I'll show you. An' mind, Marbolt hasn't ordered one of his +private horses out. Nor ain't Miss Diane. It's Anton." + +He rose and prepared to depart, but Tresler stayed him. + +"One moment, Jake," he said. "I don't wish to give offense, but tell +me why, if you have discovered so much about Anton, have you let these +things go on so long? Think of the murder of Manson Orr, of Arizona's +wound, of the dozen and one outrages of which even I am aware." + +Jake stood silently contemplating him for a while. Nor was there any +sign of his swift anger. He smiled faintly, and again Tresler noted +the nasty tone of derision in his voice when he answered. + +"I thought maybe you'd learnt a deal out here where you find everybody +on their own. I thought you'd p'r'aps learned that it ain't wise to +raise trouble till you've got the business end of your gun pointin' +right. Can't you see there's not a cent's worth of evidence against +the man yet? Have you ever heard where he runs his cattle? Has +anybody? Has any one ever seen under that mask? Has any one been found +who could identify even his figure? No. Red Mask is a will-o'-the-wisp. +He's a ghost; and it's our business to find the body o' that ghost. +I'm not the fool to go around to Anton and say, 'You are Red Mask.' +He'd laugh in my face. An' later on I guess I'd be targettin' a shot +for him. What if I rounded to the gove'nor an' got him fired? It would +be the worst possible. Keepin' him here, and lying low, we have a +chance of puttin' him out of business. No, sir, we're dealin' with the +smartest crook west of Chicago. But I'll have him; we'll get him. I +never was bested yet. An' I'll have him, same as I get any other guy +that crosses me. Let's get on." + +They moved out of the hut. + +"It's been taking you some time, already," Tresler suggested with a +smile, as they moved across the open. + +Jake took no umbrage. His dark face responded with a sardonic grin, +and his eyes were fiercely alight. + +"Tchah!" he ejaculated impatiently. "Say, you never heard tell of a +feller gettin' his own good, an' gettin' it quick. Cattle-thieves +ain't easy handlin', an' I don't jump till I'm riled." + +Tresler made no answer, and the two reached the stable without +exchanging another word. Inside they found Anton at work, cleaning +harness. He looked up as they came in, and Tresler eyed him with a +renewed interest. And the man's face was worth studying. There was no +smile, no light in it, and even very little interest. His smooth, +tawny skin and aquiline features, his black hair and blacker eyes, in +their dark setting, had a devilish look to Tresler's imagination. He +even found himself wondering where the good looks he had observed when +they met before had vanished to. Jake nodded to him and passed into +Bessie's stall at once. + +"This is the mare, Tresler, the dandiest thing ever bred on this +ranch. Look at her points. See the coat, its color. Red roan, with +legs as black as soot. Say, she's a picture. Now I guess she'd fetch a +couple of hundred dollars away down east where you come from." + +He said all this for Anton's benefit while he smoothed his hand over +Bessie's back. Tresler followed suit, feeling for the impression of +the saddle-cloth in the hair. It was there, and he went on inspecting +the legs, with the air of a connoisseur. The other saddle-horse they +treated in the same way, but the drivers were left alone. For some +minutes they stood discussing the two animals and then passed out +again. Anton had displayed not the least interest in their doings, +although nothing had escaped his keen, swift-moving eyes. + +Once out of ear-shot Jake turned to Tresler. + +"Wal?" + +"The horses have both been saddled." + +"Good. Now we've got the thing plumb located. You heard them gassin' +at the stable. You heard 'em slam the door. You saw the two come +along. An' one of 'em must have been Anton. Leastways he must have let +'em have the hosses. I guess that's an alternative. I say Anton was up +on one of them hosses, an' the other was some gorl durned Breed mate +of his. Good. We're goin' right on to see the governor." + +"What to do?" asked Tresler. + +"To give him your yarn," Jake said shortly. + +They were half-way to the house when the foreman suddenly halted and +stared out over the lower ranch buildings at the distant pastures. +Tresler was slightly behind him as he stood, and only had a sight of +the man's profile. He did not seem to be looking at any particular +object. His attitude was one of thoughtful introspection. Tresler +waited. Things were turning out better than he had hoped, and he had +no wish but to let the arbiter of the situation take his own way. He +began to think that, whatever Jake's ulterior object might be, he was +in earnest about Anton. + +At last his companion grunted and turned, and he saw at once that the +artificial comradeship of his manner had lifted, and the "Jake" he had +already learned to understand was dominant again. He saw the vicious +setting of the brows, the fiery eyes. He quite understood that +self-control was the weakest side of this man's character, and could +not long withstand the more powerful bullying nature that swayed him. + +"I asked you a question back there," he said, jerking his head in the +direction of his hut, "an' you said it was your affair; an' we'd best +let personalities stand for the moment. I'd like an answer before we +go further. You reckon to be honest, I guess. Wal, now's your chance. +Tell me to my face what I've learned for myself. What were you doin' +round here last night? What were you doin' in Marbolt's kitchen?" + +Tresler understood the motive of the man's insistence now. Jake was +showing him a side of his character he had hardly suspected. It was +the human nature in the man asking for a confirmation of his worst +fears, in reality his worst knowledge. For he was well aware that Jake +had witnessed the scene in the kitchen. + +"As I said before, it is my affair," he responded, with an assumption +of indifference. "Still, since you insist, you may as well know first +as last. I went to see Miss Diane. I saw her----" + +"An'?" There was a tense restraint in the monosyllable. + +Tresler shrugged. "Miss Marbolt is my promised wife." + +There was a deathly silence after his announcement. Tresler looked out +over the ranch. He seemed to see everything about him at once; even +Jake was in the strained focus, although he was not looking at him. +His nerves were strung, and seemed as though they were held in a vice. +He thought he could even hear the sound of his own temples beating. He +had no fear, but he was expectant. + +Then Jake broke the silence, and his voice, though harsh, was low; it +was muffled with a throatiness caused by the passion that moved him. + +"You'll never marry that gal," he said. + +And Tresler was round on him in an instant, and his face was alight +with a cold smile. + +"I will," he said. + +And then Jake moved on with something very like a rush. And Tresler +followed. His smile was still upon his face. But it was there of its +own accord, a nervous mask which had nothing to do with the thoughts +passing behind it. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A PORTENTOUS INTERVIEW + + +Tresler was in no way blind to the quality of the armistice that had +been arranged between himself and Jake. He knew full well that that +peaceful interim would be used by Jake to raise earthworks of the +earthiest kind, and to train his guns with deadly accuracy upon his +enemy. Well, so he wanted. His purpose was to draw his adversary's +fire directly upon himself. As he had said, to do anything to help the +girl he loved, he must himself be in the fighting line. And from the +moment of his doubtful compact with Jake he felt that he was not only +in the fighting line, but that, if all he had heard on the subject of +Red Mask was true, he would become the centre of attack. There was a +pleasant feeling of excitement and uncertainty in his position, and he +followed Jake all the more eagerly to the presence of the rancher, +only wondering in what manner the forthcoming interview was to affect +matters. + +Julian Marbolt had not left his bedroom when they arrived at the +house. Diane, looking a little anxious when she saw these two +together, showed them into her father's office. She was half disposed +to refuse Jake's request that she should summon the blind man, but a +smiling nod from Tresler decided her. + +"Very well, Jake," she replied coldly. "You won't best please father +unless the matter is important." This was said merely to conceal her +real knowledge of the object of the visit. + +If Jake understood he gave no sign. But he had seen and resented the +silent assurance Tresler had given her. His angry eyes watched her as +she went off; and as she disappeared he turned to his companion, who +had seated himself by the window. + +"Guess you ain't figgered on the 'old man' 'bout her?" he said. + +"That, I think, is strictly my affair," Tresler replied coldly. + +Jake laughed, and sat down near the door. The answer had no effect on +him. + +"Say, I guess you ain't never had a cyclone hit you?" he asked +maliciously. "It'll be interestin' to see when you tell him. +Maybe----" + +Whatever he was about to say was cut short by the approach of the +rancher. And it was wonderful the change that came over the man as he +sat listening to the tap-tap of the blind man's stick in the passage. +He watched the door uneasily, and there was a short breathless +attention about him. Tresler, watching, could not help thinking of the +approach of some Eastern potentate, with his waiting courtiers and +subjects rubbing their faces in the dust lest his wrath should be +visited upon them. He admitted that Jake's attitude just now was his +true one. + +At the door Julian Marbolt stood for a moment, doing by means of his +wonderful hearing what his eyes failed to do for him. And the marvel +of it was that he faced accurately, first toward Tresler, then toward +Jake. He stood like some tall, ascetic, gray-headed priest, garbed in +a dressing-gown that needed but little imagination to convert into a +cassock. And the picture of benevolence he made was only marred by the +staring of his dreadful eyes. + +"Well, Jake?" he said, in subdued, gentle tones. "What trouble has +brought you round here at this hour?" + +"Trouble enough," Jake responded, with a slight laugh. "Tresler here +brings it, though." + +The blind man turned toward the window and instinctively focussed the +younger man, and somehow Tresler shivered as with a cold draught when +the sightless eyes fixed themselves upon him. + +"Ah, you Tresler. Well, we'll hear all about it." Marbolt moved +slowly, though without the aid of his stick now, over to the table, +and seated himself. + +"It's the old trouble," said Jake, when his master had settled +himself. "The cattle 'duffers.' They're gettin' busy--busy around this +ranch again." + +"Well?" Marbolt turned to Tresler; his action was a decided snub to +Jake. + +Tresler took his cue and began his story. He told it almost exactly as +he had told it to Jake, but with one slight difference: he gave no +undue emphasis to his presence in the vicinity of the house. And +Marbolt listened closely, the frowning brows bespeaking his +concentration, and his unmoving eyes his fixed attention. He listened +apparently unmoved to every detail, and displayed a wonderful +patience while Tresler went point for point over his arguments in +favor of his suspicions of Anton. Once only he permitted his sightless +glance to pass in Jake's direction, and that was at the linking of the +foreman's name with Tresler's suspicions. As his story came to an end +the blind man rested one elbow on the table, and propped his chin upon +his hand. The other hand coming into contact with a ruler lying +adjacent, he picked it up and thoughtfully tapped the table, while the +two men waited for him to speak. + +At last he turned toward his foreman, and, with an impressive gesture, +indicated Tresler. + +"This story is nothing new to us, Jake," he said. Then for a moment +his voice dropped, and took on a pained tone. "I only wish it were; +then we could afford to laugh at it. No, there can be no laughing +here. Past experience has taught us that. It is a matter of the +greatest seriousness--danger. So much for the main features. But there +are side issues, suspicions you have formed," turning back to Tresler, +"which I cannot altogether accept. Mind, I do not say flatly that you +are wrong, but I cannot accept them without question. + +"Jake here has had suspicions of Anton. I know that, though he has +never asserted them to me in so direct a fashion as apparently he has +to you." He paused: then he went on in an introspective manner. "I am +getting on in years. I have already had a good innings right here on +this ranch. I have watched the country develop. I have seen the +settlers come, sow the seeds of their homesteads and small ranches, +and watched the crop grow. I have rented them grazing. I have sold +them stock. I have made money, and they have made money, and the +country has prospered. It is good to see these things; good for me, +especially, for I was the first here. I have been lord of the land, +and Jake my lieutenant. The old Indian days have gone, and I have +looked for nothing but peace and prosperity. I wanted prosperity, for +I admit I love it. I am a business man, and I do everything in +connection with this ranch on a sound business basis. Not like many of +those about me. In short, I am here to make money. And why not? I own +the land." + +The last was said as though in argument. Tresler could not help being +struck by the manner in which he alluded to the making of money. There +was an air of the miser about him when he spoke of it, a hardness +about the mouth which the close-trimmed beard made no pretense of +concealing. And there was a world of arrogance in the way he said, "I +own the land." However, he was given no time for further observation, +for Marbolt seemed to realize his own digression and came back +abruptly to the object of his discourse. + +"Then this spectre, Red Mask, comes along. He moves with the mystery +of the Wandering Jew, and, like that imaginary person, scourges the +country wherever he goes, only in a different manner. Anton had been +with me three years when this raider appeared. Since then there have +been no less than twenty-eight robberies, accompanied more or less by +manslaughter." He became more animated and leaned forward in his +chair, pointing the ruler he still held in his hand at Tresler as he +named the figures. His red eyes seemed to stare harder and his heavy +brows to knit more closely across his forehead. "Yes," he reiterated, +"twenty-eight robberies. And I, with others, have estimated the number +and value of stock that has been lost to this scoundrel. In round +figures five thousand head of cattle, one hundred and fifty thousand +dollars, whisked away, spirited out of this district alone in the +course of a few years. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars; one +hundred and fifty thousand," he mouthed the words as though he +delighted in the sound of so large a sum of money. Then his whole +manner changed. A fiend could not have looked more vicious. "And in +all I have lost five hundred beeves to him. Five hundred," he cried, +his voice high-pitched in his anger, "fifteen thousand dollars, +besides horses, and--and some of my men wounded, even killed." + +Again he ceased speaking, and relapsed into a brooding attitude. And +the two men watched him. His personality fascinated Tresler. He even +began to understand something of the general fear he inspired. He +thought of Jake who had been so many years with him, and he thought he +understood something of the condition he must inspire in any one of no +great moral strength who remained with him long. Then he thought of +Diane, and moved uneasily. He remembered Jake's allusion to a cyclone. + +At Tresler's movement the blind man roused at once and proceeded with +his story. + +"And he roams this country at large, unchecked, unopposed. Working his +will whithersoever he fancies, unseen, unknown but for his sobriquet. +And you claim he and Anton are one. This great man--for in his way he +is great, head and shoulders above all other criminals, by reason of +the extent of his exploits. Pshaw!"--his tone was scoffing--"let me +tell you, on three different nights when this monster was abroad, +carrying destruction in his path, Anton was driving me. Or, at least, +was with me, having driven me into Forks on one occasion, and twice in +the neighborhood of Whitewater. No, I am aware that Anton is a +black-leg, or has been one, but he has served me well and truly since +he has been my servant. As for the saddle-marks," he leaned back in +his chair and his gentle smile returned slowly to his face. "No, no, +Tresler, that is insufficient. Remember, Anton is a Breed, a young +man, and, as Breeds go, good-looking. There is a Breed camp in the +neighborhood where they indulge in all the puskies and orgies native +to them. We must question him. I expect he has taken French leave with +my horses." + +"But you forget the Breed camp has gone," put in Jake quickly. "Since +the comin' of the sheriff and his men to Forks they've cleared out, +and, as yet, we ain't located 'em. I expect it's the hills." + +"Just so, Jake," replied Marbolt, turning to the foreman coldly. "I +forgot that you told me of it before. But that makes little +difference. I have no doubt Anton knows where they are. Now," he went +on, turning again to Tresler, "I hold no brief for Anton in +particular. If I thought for a moment it were so," a sudden storm of +vindictiveness leapt into his tone, "I would hound him down, and be +near while they hung him slowly to death on one of our own trees. I +would willingly stand by while he was put to the worst possible +tortures, and revel in his cries of agony. Don't mistake me. If you +could prove Anton to be the rascal, he should die, whatever the +consequences. We would wait for no law. But you are all on the wrong +trail, I feel sure." + +He had dropped back into his old soft-spoken manner, and Tresler felt +like hating him for the vileness of the nature he displayed. + +"You plead well for Anton, Mr. Marbolt," he could not help saying, +"but after what I heard last night, I cannot believe he is not in +league with these people." + +It was an unfortunate remark, and brought the biting answer that might +have been expected. + +"I plead for no man, Tresler. Most certainly not for a Breed. I show +you where you are wrong. Your inexperience is lamentable, but you +cannot help it." He paused, but went on again almost at once. "Since I +cannot persuade you, go with your story to the sheriff. Let him judge +of your evidence, and if a man of Fyles's undoubted skill and +shrewdness acts upon it, I'll pay you one hundred dollars." + +Tresler saw the force of the other's reply, but resented the tone, +while he still remained utterly unconvinced of Anton's innocence. +Perhaps the blind man realized his unnecessary harshness, for he +quickly veered round again to his low-voiced benignity. And Jake, +interested but silent, sat watching his master with an inscrutable +look in his bold eyes and a half smile on his hard face. + +"No, Tresler," he said, "we can set all that part of it on one side. +You did quite right to come to me, though," he added hastily; "I thank +you heartily. From past experience we have learned that your +apparition means mischief. It means that a raiding expedition is +afoot. Maybe it was committed last night. I suppose," turning to Jake, +"you have not heard?" + +"No." Jake shook his head. + +"Well, we are forewarned, thanks to you, Tresler," the other went on +gravely. "And it shan't be my fault if we are not forearmed. We must +send a warning round to the nearest homesteads. I really don't know +what will happen if this goes on much longer." + +"Why not take concerted action? Why not resort to what was recently +suggested--a vigilance party?" Tresler put in quickly. + +The other shook his head and turned to Jake for support. But none was +forthcoming. Jake was watching that strong sightless face, gazing into +it with a look of bitter hatred and sinister intentness. This change +so astonished Tresler that he paid no attention to the rancher's +reply. + +And at once Marbolt's peculiar instinct asserted itself. He faced from +one to the other with a perplexed frown, and as his red eyes fell +finally upon the foreman, that individual's whole expression was +instantly transformed to one of confusion. And Tresler could not help +calling to mind the schoolboy detected in some misdemeanor. At first +the confusion, then the attempt at bland innocence, followed by dogged +sullenness. It was evident that Jake's conscience blinded him to the +fact of the other's sightless gaze. + +"What say you, Jake? We can only leave it to the sheriff and be on our +guard." + +The foreman fumbled out his reply almost too eagerly. + +"Yes," he said, "sure; we must be on our guard. Guess we'd better send +out night guards to the different stations." He stretched himself with +an assumption of ease. Then suddenly he sat bolt upright and a +peculiar expression came into his eyes. Tresler detected the half +smile and the side glance in his own direction. "Yes," he went on, +composedly enough now, "partic'larly Willow Bluff." + +"Why Willow Bluff?" asked the rancher, with some perplexity. + +"Why? Why? Because we're waitin' to ship them two hundred beeves to +the coast. They're sold, you remember, an' ther's only them two +Breeds, Jim an' Lag Henderson, in charge of 'em. Why, it 'ud be pie, a +dead soft snap fer Red Mask's gang. An' the station's that lonesome. +All o' twenty mile from here." + +Julian Marbolt sat thinking for a moment. "Yes, you're right," he +agreed at last. "We'll send out extra night guards. And you'd best +detail two good, reliable men for a few days at Willow Bluff. Only +thoroughly reliable men, mind. You see to it." + +Jake turned to Tresler at once, his face beaming with a malicious +grin. And the latter understood. But he was not prepared for the +skilful trap which his archenemy was baiting for him, and into which +he was to promptly fall. + +"How'd it suit you, Tresler?" he asked. Then without waiting for a +reply he went on, "But ther', I guess it wouldn't do sendin' you. You +ain't the sort to get scrappin' hoss thieves. It wants grit. It's +tough work an' needs tough men. Pshaw!" + +Tresler's blood was up in a moment. He forgot discretion and +everything else under the taunt. + +"I don't know that it wouldn't do, Jake," he retorted promptly. "It +seems to me your remarks come badly from a man who has reason to +know--to remember--that I am capable of holding my own with most men, +even those big enough to eat me." + +He saw his blunder even while he was speaking. But he was red-hot with +indignation and didn't care a jot for the consequences. And Jake came +at him. If the foreman's taunt had roused him, it was nothing to the +effect of his reply. Jake crossed the room in a couple of strides and +his furious face was thrust close into Tresler's, and, in a voice +hoarse with passion, he fairly gasped at him-- + +"I ain't fergot. An' by G----" + +But he got no further. A movement on the part of the rancher +interrupted him. Before he realized what was happening the blind man +was at his side with a grip on his arm that made him wince. + +"Stop it!" he cried fiercely. "Stop it, you fool! Another word and, +blind as I am, I'll----" Jake struggled to release himself, but +Marbolt held him with almost superhuman strength and slowly backed him +from his intended victim. "Back! Do you hear? I'll have no murder done +in here--unless I do it myself. Get back--back, blast you!" And Jake +was slowly, in spite of his continued struggles, thrust against the +wall. And then, as he still resisted, Marbolt pushed the muzzle of a +revolver against his face. "I'll drop you like a hog, if you +don't----" + +But the compelling weapon had instant effect, and the foreman's +resistance died out weakly. + +The whole scene had occurred so swiftly that Tresler simply stood +aghast. The agility, the wonderful sureness and rapidity of movement +on Marbolt's part were staggering. The whole thing seemed impossible, +and yet he had seen it; and the meaning of the stories of this man he +had listened to came home to him. He was, indeed, something to fear. +The great bullying Jake was a child in his hands. Now like a whipped +child, he stood with his back to the wall, a picture of hate and fury. + +With Jake silenced Marbolt turned on him. His words were few but +sufficient. + +"And as for you, Tresler," he said coldly, "keep that tongue of yours +easy. I am master here." + +There was a brief silence, then the rancher returned to the subject +that had caused the struggle. + +"Well, what about the men for Willow Bluff, Jake?" + +It was Tresler who answered the question, and without a moment's +hesitation. + +"I should like to go out there, Mr. Marbolt. Especially if there's +likely to be trouble." + +It was the only position possible for him after what had gone before, +and he knew it. He glanced at Jake and saw that, for the moment at +least, his hatred for his employer had been set aside. He was smiling +a sort of tigerish smile. + +"Very well, Tresler," responded the rancher. "And you can choose your +own companion. You can go and get ready. Jake," turning to the other, +"I want to talk to you." + +Tresler went out, feeling that he had made a mess of things. He gave +Jake credit for his cleverness, quite appreciating the undying hate +that prompted it. But the thing that was most prominent in his +thoughts was the display the blind man had given him. He smiled when +he thought of Jake's boasted threats to Diane; how impotent they +seemed now. But the smile died out when he remembered he, himself, had +yet to face the rancher on the delicate subject of his daughter. He +remembered only too well Jake's reference to a cyclone, and he made +his way to the bunkhouse with no very enlivening thoughts. + +In the meantime the two men he had just left remained silent until the +sound of his footsteps had quite died out. Then Marbolt spoke. + +"Jake, you are a damned idiot!" he said abruptly. + +The foreman made no answer and the other went on. + +"Why can't you leave the boy alone? He's harmless; besides he's useful +to me--to us." + +"Harmless--useful?" Jake laughed bitterly. "Pshaw, I guess your +blindness is gettin' round your brains!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean it 'ud have been better if you'd let me--wipe him out. Better +for us--for you." + +"I don't see; you forget his money." The blind man's tone was very +low. "You forget he intends to buy a ranch and stock. You forget that +he has twenty-five thousand dollars to expend. Bah! I'll never make a +business man of you." + +"And what about your girl?" Jake asked, quite unmoved by the other's +explanation. + +"My girl?" Marbolt laughed softly. "You are always harping on that. He +will leave my girl alone. She knows my wishes, and will--shall obey +me. I don't care a curse about him or his affairs. But I want his +money, and if you will only see to your diabolical temper, I'll--we'll +have it. Your share stands good in this as in all other deals." + +It was the foreman's turn to laugh. But there was no mirth in it. It +stopped as suddenly as it began, cut off short. + +"He will leave your girl alone, will he?" he said, with a sneer. "Say, +d'you know what he was doin' around this house last night when he saw +those hoss-thief guys, or shall I tell you?" + +"You'd better tell me," replied the rancher, coldly. + +"He was after your girl. Say, an' what's more, he saw her. An' what's +still more, she's promised to be his wife. He told me." + +"What's that? Say it again." There was an ominous calmness in the +blind man's manner. + +"I said he was after your girl, saw her, and +she's--promised--to--be--his--wife." + +"Ah!" + +Then there was a silence for some minutes. The red eyes were frowning +in the direction of the window. At last the man drew a deep breath, +and Jake, watching him, wondered what was coming. + +"I'll see her," he said slowly, "and I'll see him--after he comes back +from Willow Bluff." + +That was all, but Jake, accustomed to Julian Marbolt's every mood, +read a deal more than the words expressed. He waited for what else +might be coming, but only received a curt dismissal in tones so sharp +that he hurried out of the room precipitately. + +Once clear of the verandah he walked more slowly, and his eyes turned +in the direction of the bunkhouse. All the old hatred was stirred +within him as he saw Tresler turn the angle of the building and +disappear within its doorway. + +"Guess no one's goin' to see you--after Willow Bluff," he muttered. +"No one." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +AT WILLOW BLUFF + + +Tresler would have liked to see Diane before going out to Willow +Bluff, but reflection showed him how impossible that would be; at +least, how much unnecessary risk it would involve for her. After what +he had just witnessed of her father, it behooved him to do nothing +rashly as far as she was concerned, so he turned his whole attention +to his preparations for departure. + +He had made up his mind as to his comrade without a second thought. +Arizona was his man, and he sent the diplomatic Joe out to bring him +in from Pine Creek sloughs, where he was cutting late hay for winter +stores. + +In about half an hour the American came in, all curiosity and +eagerness; nor would he be satisfied until he had been told the whole +details of the matter that had led up to the appointment. Tresler kept +back nothing but his private affairs relating to Diane. At the +conclusion of the recital, Arizona's rising temper culminated in an +explosion. + +"Say, that feller Jake's a meaner pirate an' cus as 'ud thieve the +supper from a blind dawg an' then lick hell out o' him 'cos he can't +see." Which outburst of feeling having satisfied the necessity of the +moment, he became practical. "An' you're goin', you an' me?" he asked +incredulously. + +"That's the idea, Arizona; but of course you're quite free to please +yourself. I chose you; Marbolt gave me the privilege of selection." + +"Wal, guess we'd best git goin'. Willow Bluff station's fair to +decent, so we'll only need our blankets an' grub--an' a tidy bunch of +ammunition. Guess I'll go an' see Teddy fer the rations." + +He went off in a hurry. Tresler looked after him. It was good to be +dealing with such a man after those others, Jake and the rancher. +Arizona's manner of accepting his selection pleased him. There was no +"yes" or "no" about it: no argument. A silent acceptance and ready +thought for their needs. A thorough old campaigner. A man to be relied +on in emergency--a man to be appreciated. + +In two hours everything was in readiness, Tresler contenting himself +with a reassuring message to Diane through the medium of Joe. + +They rode off. Jezebel was on her good behavior, and Arizona's mount +kept up with her fast walk by means of his cowhorse amble. As they +came to the ford, Tresler drew up and dismounted, and the other +watched him while he produced a wicker-covered glass flask from his +pocket. + +"What's that?" he asked. "Rye?" + +Tresler shook his head, and tried the metal screw cap. + +"No," he replied shortly. + +Then he leant over the water and carefully set the bottle floating, +pushing it out as far as possible with his foot while he supported +himself by the overhanging bough of a tree. Then he stood watching it +carried slowly amid-stream. Presently the improvised craft darted out +with a rush into the current, and swept onward with the main flow of +the water. Then he returned and remounted his impatient mare. + +"That," he said, as they rode on, "is a message. Fyles's men are down +the river spying out the land, and, incidentally, waiting to hear from +me. The message I've sent them is a request for assistance at Willow +Bluff. I have given them sound reason, which Fyles will understand." + +Arizona displayed considerable astonishment, which found expression in +a deprecating avowal. + +"Say, I guess I'm too much o' the old hand. I didn't jest think o' +that." + +It was all he vouchsafed, but it said a great deal. And the thin face +and wild eyes said more. + +Now they rode on in silence, while they followed the wood-lined trail +along the river. The shade was delightful, and the trail sufficiently +sandy to muffle the sound of the horses' hoofs and so leave the +silence unbroken. There was a faint hum from the insects that haunted +the river, but it was drowsy, soft, and only emphasized the perfect +sylvan solitude. After a while the trail left the river and gently +inclined up to the prairie level. Then the bush broke and became +scattered into small bluffs, and a sniff of the bracing air of the +plains brushed away the last odor of the redolent glades they were +leaving. + +It was here that Arizona roused himself. He was of the prairie, +belonging to the prairie. The woodlands depressed him, but the prairie +made him expansive. + +"Seems to me, Tresler, you're kind o' takin' a heap o' chances--mostly +onnes'ary. Meanin' ther' ain't no more reason to it than whistlin' +Methody hymns to a deaf mule. Can't see why you're mussin' y'self up +wi' these all-fired hoss thieves. You're askin' fer a sight more'n you +ken eat." + +"And, like all men of such condition, I shall probably eat to +repletion, I suppose you mean." + +Arizona turned a doubtful eye on the speaker, and quietly spat over +his horse's shoulder. + +"Guess your langwidge ain't mine," he said thoughtfully; "but if +you're meanin' you're goin' to git your belly full, I calc'late you're +li'ble to git like a crop-bound rooster wi' the moult 'fore you're +through. An' I sez, why?" + +Tresler shrugged. "Why does a man do anything?" he asked +indifferently. + +"Gener'ly fer one of two reasons. Guess it's drink or wimmin." Again +he shot a speculating glance at his friend, and, as Tresler displayed +more interest in the distant view than in his remarks, he went on. "I +ain't heerd tell as you wus death on the bottle." + +The object of his solicitude smiled round on him. + +"Perhaps you think me a fool. But I just can't stand by seeing things +going wrong in a way that threatens to swamp one poor, lonely girl, +whose only protection is her blind father." + +"Then it is wimmin?" + +"If you like." + +"But I don't jest see wher' them hoss thieves figger." + +"Perhaps you don't, but believe me they do--indirectly." Tresler +paused. Then he went on briskly. "There's no need to go into details +about it, but--but I want to run into this gang. Do you know why? +Because I want to find out who this Red Mask is. It is on his +personality depends the possibility of my helping the one soul on this +ranch who deserves nothing but tender kindness at the hands of those +about her." + +"A-men," Arizona added in the manner he had acquired in his "religion" +days. + +"I must set her free of Jake--somehow." + +Arizona's eyes flashed round on him quickly. "Jest so," he observed +complainingly. "That's how I wanted to do last night." + +"And you'd have upset everything." + +"Wrong--plumb wrong." + +"Perhaps so," Tresler smiled confidently. "We are all liable to +mistakes." + +Arizona's dissatisfied grunt was unmistakable. "Thet's jest how that +sassafras-colored, bull-beef Joe Nelson got argyfyin' when Jake come +around an' located him sleepin' off the night before in the hog-pen. +But it don't go no more'n his did, I guess. Howsum, it's wimmin. Say, +Tresler," the lean figure leant over toward him, and the wild eyes +looked earnestly into his--"it's right, then--dead right?" + +"When I've settled with her father--and Jake." + +Arizona held out his horny, claw-like hand. "Shake," he said. "I'm +glad, real glad." + +They gripped for a moment, then the cowpuncher turned away, and sat +staring out over the prairie. Tresler, watching him, wondered at that +long abstraction. The man's face had a softened look. + +"We all fall victims to it sooner or later, Arizona," he ventured +presently. "It comes once in a man's lifetime, and it comes for good +or ill." + +"Twice--me." + +The hard fact nipped Tresler's sentimental mood in the bud. + +"Ah!" + +The other continued his study of the sky-line. "Yup," he said at last. +"One died, an' t'other didn't hatch out." + +"I see." + +It was no use attempting sympathy. When Arizona spoke of himself, when +he chose to confide his life's troubles to any one, he had a way of +stating simple facts merely as facts; he spoke of them because it +suited his pessimistic mood. + +"Yup. The first was kind o' fady, anyways--sort o' limp in the +backbone. Guess I'd got fixed wi' her 'fore I knew a heap. Must 'a' +bin. Yup, she wus fancy in her notions. Hated sharin' a pannikin o' +tea wi' a friend; guess I see her scrape out a fry-pan oncet. I 'lows +she had cranks. Guess she hadn't a pile o' brain, neither. She never +could locate a hog from a sow, an' as fer stridin' a hoss, hell itself +couldn't 'a' per-suaded her. She'd a notion fer settin' sideways, an' +allus got muleish when you guessed she wus wrong. Yup, she wus red-hot +on the mission sociables an' eatin' off'n chiny, an' wa'n't satisfied +wi' noospaper on the table; an' took the notion she'd got pimples, an' +worried hell out o' her old man till he bo't a razor an' turned his +features into a patch o' fall ploughin', an' kind o' bulldozed her +mother into lashin' her stummick wi' some noofangled fixin' as +wouldn't meet round her nowheres noways. An' she wus kind o' finnicky +wi' her own feedin', too. Guess some wall-eyed cuss had took her into +Sacramento an' give her a feed at one of them Dago joints, wher' they +disguise most everythin' wi' langwidge, an' ile, an' garlic, till you +hate yourself. Wal, she died. Mebbe she's got all them things handy +now. But I ain't sayin' nothin' mean about her; she jest had her +notions. Guess it come from her mother. I 'lows she wus kind o' struck +on fool things an' fixin's. Can't blame her noways. Guess I wus mostly +sudden them days. Luv ut fust sight is a real good thing when it comes +to savin' labor, but like all labor-savin' fixin's, it's liable to git +rattled some, an' then ther' ain't no calc'latin' what's goin' to +bust." + +Arizona's manner was very hopeless, but presently he cheered up +visibly and renewed his wad of chewing. + +"T'other wus kind o' slower in comin' along," he went on, in his +reflective drawl. "But when it got around it wus good an' strong, +sure. Y' see, ther' wus a deal 'tween us like to make us friendly. She +made hash fer the round-up, which I 'lows, when the lady's young, +she's most gener'ly an objec' of 'fection fer the boys. Guess she wus +most every kind of a gal, wi' her ha'r the color of a field of wheat +ready fer the binder, an' her figger as del'cate as one o' them crazy +egg-bilers, an' her pretty face all sparklin' wi' smiles an' +hoss-soap, an' her eye! Gee! but she had an eye. Guess she would 'a' +made a prairie-rose hate itself. But that wus 'fore we hooked up in a +team. I 'lows marryin's a mighty bad finish to courtin'." + +"You were married?" + +"Am." + +A silence fell. The horses ambled on in the fresh noonday air. +Arizona's look was forbidding. Suddenly he turned and gazed fiercely +into his friend's face. + +"Yes, sirree. An' it's my 'pinion, in spite of wot some folks sez, +gettin' married's most like makin' butter. Courtin's the cream, good +an' thick an' juicy, an' you ken lay it on thick, an' you kind o' +wonder how them buzzocky old cows got the savee to perduce sech a +daisy liquid. But after the turnin'-point, which is marryin', it's +diff'rent some. 'Tain't cream no longer. It's butter, an' you need to +use it sort o' mean. That's how I found, I guess." + +"I suppose you settled down, and things went all right, though?" +suggested Tresler. + +"Wal, maybe that's so. Guess if anythin' wus wrong it wus me. Yer see, +ther' ain't a heap o' fellers rightly understands females. I'm most +gener'ly patient. Knowin' their weakness, I sez, 'Arizona, you're mud +when wimmin gits around. You bein' married, it's your dooty to boost +the gal along.' So I jest let her set around an' shovel orders as +though I wus the hired man. Say, guess you never had a gal shovelin' +orders. It's real sweet to hear 'em, an' I figger they knows their +bizness mostly. It makes you feel as though you'd ha'f a dozen hands +an' they wus all gropin' to git to work. That's how I felt, anyways. +Every mornin' she'd per-suade me gentle out o' bed 'fore daylight, an' +I'd feel like a hog fer sleepin' late. Then she'd shovel the orders +hansum, in a voice that 'ud shame molasses. It wus allus 'dear' or +'darlin'.' Fust haul water, then buck wood, light the stove, feed the +hogs an' chick'ns, dung out the ol' cow, fill the lamp, rub down the +mare, pick up the kitchen, set the clothes bilin', cook the vittles, +an' do a bit o' washin' while she turned over fer five minits. Then +she'd git around, mostly 'bout noon, wi' her shower o' ha'r trailin' +like a rain o' gold-dust, an' a natty sort o' silk fixin' which she +called a 'dressin'-gown,' an' she'd sot right down an' eat the +vittles, tellin' me o' things she wanted done as she'd fergot. Ther' +wus the hen-roost wanted limin', she was sure the chick'ns had the +bugs, an' the ol' mare's harness wanted fixin', so she could drive +into town; an' the buckboard wanted washin', an' the wheels greasin'. +An' the seat wus kind o' hard an' wanted packin' wi' a pillar. Then +ther' wus the p'tater patch wanted hoein', an' the cabb'ges. An' the +hay-mower wus to be got ready fer hayin'. She mostly drove that +herself, an' I 'lows I wus glad." + +Arizona paused and took a fresh chew. Then he went on. + +"Guess you ain't never got hitched?" + +Tresler denied the impeachment. "Not yet," he said. + +"Hah! Guess it makes a heap o' diff'rence." + +"Yes, I suppose so. Sobers a fellow. Makes him feel like settling +down." + +"Wal, maybe." + +"And where's your wife living now?" Tresler asked, after another +pause. + +"Can't rightly say." There was a nasty sharpness in the manner Arizona +jerked his answer out. "Y' see, it's this a-ways. I guess I didn't +amount to a deal as a married man. Leastways, that's how she got +figgerin' after a whiles. Guess I'd sp'iled her life some. I 'lows I +wus allus a mean cuss. An' she wus real happy bakin' hash. Guess I +druv her to drinkin' at the s'loon, too, which made me hate myself +wuss. Wal, I jest did wot I could to smooth things an' kep goin'. I +got punchin' cows agin, an' give her every cent o' my wages; but it +wa'n't to be." The man's voice was husky, and he paused to recover +himself. And then hurried on as though to get the story over as soon +as possible. "Guess I wus out on the 'round-up' some weeks, an' then I +come back to find her gone--plumb gone. Mebbe she'd got lonesome; I +can't say. Yup, the shack wus empty, an' the buckboard gone, an' the +blankets, an' most o' the cookin' fixin's. It wus the neighbors put me +wise. Neighbors mostly puts you wise. They acted friendly. Ther'd bin +a feller come 'long from Alberta, a pretty tough Breed feller. He went +by the name o' 'Tough' McCulloch." + +Tresler started. But Arizona was still staring out at the distant +prairie, and the movement escaped him. + +"Guess he'd bin around the shack a heap," he went on, "an' the day +'fore I got back the two of 'em had drove out wi' the buckboard +loaded, takin' the trail fer the hills. I put after 'em, but never +found a trace. I 'lows the feller had guts. He left a message on the +table. It wus one o' his guns--loaded. Likely you won't understan', +but I kep' that message. I ain't see her sence. I did hear tell she +wus bakin' hash agin. I 'lows she could bake hash. Say, Tresler, I've +lost hogs, an' I've lost cows, but I'm guessin' ther' ain't nothin' in +the world meaner than losin' yer wife." + +Tresler made no reply. What could he say? "Tough" McCulloch! the name +rang in his ears. It was the name Anton had been known by in Canada. +He tried to think what he ought to do. Should he tell Arizona? No. He +dared not. Murder would promptly be done, if he knew anything of the +American. No doubt the Breed deserved anything, but there was enough +savagery at Mosquito Bend without adding to it. Suddenly another +thought occurred to him. + +"Did you know the man?" he asked. + +"Never set eyes on him. But I guess I shall some day." And Tresler's +decision was irrevocably confirmed. + +"And the 'gun' message?" + +"Wal, it's a way they have in Texas," replied Arizona. "A loaded gun +is a mean sort o' challenge. It's a challenge which ain't fer the +present zacly. Guess it holds good fer life. Et means 'on sight.'" + +"I understand." + +And the rest of the journey to Willow Bluff was made almost in +silence. + +The wonderful extent of the blind man's domain now became apparent. +They had traveled twenty miles almost as the crow flies, and yet they +had not reached its confines. As Arizona said, in response to a +remark from his companion, "The sky-line ain't no limit fer the blind +hulk's land." + +Willow Bluff was, as its name described, just a big bluff of woodland +standing at the confluence of two rivers. To the south and west it was +open prairie. The place consisted of a small shack, and a group of +large pine-log corrals capable of housing a thousand head of stock. +And as the men came up they saw, scattered over the adjacent prairie, +the peacefully grazing beeves which were to be their charge. + +"A pretty bunch," observed Arizona. + +"Yes, and a pretty place for a raid." + +At that moment the doings of the raiders were uppermost in Tresler's +mind. + +Then they proceeded to take possession. They found Jim Henderson, a +mean looking Breed boy, in the shack, and promptly set him to work to +clean it out. It was not a bad place, but the boys had let it get into +a filthy condition, in the customary manner of all half-breeds. +However, this they quickly remedied, and Tresler saw quite a decent +prospect of comfort for their stay there. + +Arizona said very little while there was work to be done. And his +companion was astonished, even though he knew him so well, at his +capacity and forethought. Evening was the most important time, and +here the cattleman stood out a master of his craft. The beeves had to +be corralled every night. There must be no chance of straying, since +they were sold, and liable for transport at any moment. This work, and +the task of counting, demanded all the cattleman's skill. Bands of +fifty were rounded up, cut out from the rest, and quietly brought in. +When each corral was filled, and the whole herd accommodated for the +night, a supply of fresh young hay was thrown to them to keep them +occupied during their few remaining hours of waking. Arizona was a +giant at the work; and to see his lithe, lean body swaying this way +and that, as he swung his well-trained pony around the ambling herd, +his arms and "rope" and voice at work, was to understand something of +the wild life that claimed him, and the wild, untrained nature which +was his. + +The last corral was fastened up, and then, but not until then, the two +friends took leisure. + +"Wal," said Arizona, as they stood leaning against the bars of the +biggest corral, "guess ther's goin' to be a night-guard?" + +"Yes. These boys are smart enough lads, it seems. We'll let them take +two hours about up to midnight You and I will do the rest." + +"An' the hull lot of us'll sleep round the corrals?" + +"That's it." + +"An' the hosses?" + +"We'll keep them saddled." + +"An' the sheriff's fellers?" + +"That I can't say. We're not likely to see them, anyway." + +And so the plans were arranged, simple, even hopeless in construction. +Two men, for they could not depend on the half-breeds, to face +possibly any odds should the raider choose this spot for attack. But +however inadequate the guard, there was something morally strong in +the calm, natural manner of its arranging. These two knew that in case +of trouble they had only themselves to depend on. Yet neither +hesitated, or balked at the undertaking. Possibilities never entered +into their calculations. + +The first and second night produced no alarm. Nor did they receive any +news of a disturbing nature. On the third day Jacob Smith rode into +their camp. He was a patrol guard, on a visiting tour of the outlying +stations. His news was peaceful enough. + +"I don't care a cuss how long the old man keeps the funks," he said, +with a cheery laugh. "I give it you right here, this job's a snap. I +ride around like a gen'l spyin' fer enemies. Guess Red Mask has his +uses." + +"So's most folk," responded Arizona, "but 'tain't allus easy to +locate." + +"Wal, I guess I ken locate his jest about now. I'm sort o' lyin' +fallow, which ain't usual on Skitter Bend." + +"Guess not. He's servin' us diff'rent." + +"Ah! Doin' night-guard? Say, I'd see blind hulk roastin' 'fore I'd +hang on to them beasties. But it's like you, Arizona. You hate him +wuss'n hell, an' Jake too, yet you'd--pshaw! So long. Guess I'd best +get on. I've got nigh forty miles to do 'fore I git back." + +And he rode away, careless, thoughtless, in the midst of a very real +danger. And it was the life they all led. They asked for a wage, a +bunk, and grub; nothing else mattered. + +Tresler had developed a feeling that the whole thing was a matter of +form rather than dead earnest, that he had been precipitate in sending +his message to the sheriff. He wanted to get back to the ranch. He +understood only too well how he had furthered Jake's projects, and +cursed himself bitterly for having been so easily duped. He was +comfortably out of the way, and the foreman would take particularly +good care that he should remain so as long as possible. Arizona, too, +had become anything but enlivening. He went about morosely and snapped +villainously at the boys. There was no word in answer to the message +to the sheriff. They daily searched the bluff for some sign, but +without result, and Tresler was rather glad than disappointed, while +Arizona seemed utterly without opinion on the matter. + +The third night produced a slight shock for Tresler. It was midnight, +and one of the boys roused him for his watch. He sat up, and, to his +astonishment, found Arizona sitting on a log beside him. He waited +until the boy had gone to turn in, then he looked at his friend +inquiringly. + +"What's up?" + +And Arizona's reply fairly staggered him. "Say, Tresler," he said, in +a tired voice, utterly unlike his usual forceful manner, "I jest +wanted to ast you to change 'watches' wi' me. I've kind o' lost my +grip on sleep. Mebbe I'm weak'nin' some. I 'lows I'm li'ble to git +sleepy later on, an' I tho't, mebbe, ef I wus to do the fust +watch--wal, y' see, I guess that plug in my chest ain't done me a heap +o' good." + +Tresler was on his feet in an instant. It had suddenly dawned on him +that this queer son of the prairie was ill. + +"Rot, man!" he exclaimed. His tone in no way hid his alarm. They were +at the gate of the big corral, hidden in the shadow cast by the high +wall of lateral logs. "You go and turn in. I'm going to watch till +daylight." + +"Say, that's real friendly," observed the other, imperturbably. "But +it ain't no use. Guess I couldn't sleep yet." + +"Well, please yourself. I'm going to watch till daylight." Tresler's +manner was quietly decided, and Arizona seemed to accept it. + +"Wal, ef it hits you that a-ways I'll jest set around till I git +sleepy." + +Tresler's alarm was very real, but he shrugged with a great assumption +of indifference and moved off to make a round of the corrals, +carefully hugging the shadow of the walls as he went. After a while he +returned to his post. Arizona was still sitting where he had left him. + +There was a silence for a few minutes. Then the American quietly drew +his revolver and spun the chambers round. Tresler watched him, and the +other, looking up, caught his eye. + +"Guess these things is kind o' tricksy," he observed, in explanation, +"I got it jammed oncet. It's a decent weapon but noo, an' I ain't fer +noo fixin's. This hyar," he went on, drawing a second one from its +holster, "is a 'six' an' 'ud drop an ox at fifty. Ha'r trigger too. +It's a dandy. Guess it wus 'Tough' McCulloch's. Guess you ain't got +yours on your hip?" + +Tresler shook his head. "No, I use the belt for my breeches, and keep +the guns loose in my pockets when I'm not riding." + +"Wrong. Say, fix 'em right. You take a sight too many chances." + +Tresler laughingly complied "I'm not likely to need them, but +still----" + +"Nope." Arizona returned his guns to their resting-place. Then he +looked up. "Say, guess I kind o' fixed the hosses diff'rent. Our +hosses. Bro't 'em up an' stood 'em in the angle wher' this corral +joins the next one. Seems better; more handy-like. It's sheltered, an' +ther's a bit of a sharp breeze. One o' them early frosts." He looked +up at the sky. "Guess ther' didn't ought. Ther' ain't no moon till +nigh on daylight. Howsum, ther' ain't no argyfyin' the weather." + +Tresler was watching his comrade closely. There was something peculiar +in his manner. He seemed almost fanciful, yet there was a wonderful +alertness in the rapidity of his talk. He remained silent, and, +presently, the other went on again, but he had switched off to a fresh +topic. + +"Say, I never ast you how you figgered to settle wi' Jake," he said. +"I guess it'll be all"--he broke off, and glanced out prairieward, but +went on almost immediately,--"a settlin'. I've seen you kind o' riled. +And I've seen Jake." He stood up and peered into the darkness while he +talked in his even monotone. "Yup," he went on, "ther's ways o' +dealin' wi' men--an' ways. Guess, now, ef you wus dealin' wi' an +honest citizen you'd jest talk him fair. Mind, I figger to know you a +heap." His eyes suddenly turned on the man he was addressing, but +returned almost at once to their earnest contemplation of the black +vista of grass-land. "You'd argyfy the point reas'nable, an' leave the +gal to settle for you. But wi' Jake it's diff'rent." His hand slowly +went round to his right hip, and suddenly he turned on his friend with +a look of desperate meaning. "D'you know what it'll be 'tween you two? +This is what it means;" and he whipped out the heavy six that had once +been "Tough" McCulloch's, and leveled it at arm's length out +prairieward. Tresler thought it was coming at him, and sprang back, +while Arizona laughed. "This is what it'll be. You'll take a careful +aim, an' if you've friends around they'll see fair play, sure. I guess +they'll count 'three' for you, so. Jest one, two, an' you'll both fire +on the last, so. Three!" + +There was a flash, and a sharp report, and then a cry split the still +night air. Tresler sprang at the man whom he now believed was mad, but +the cry stayed him, and the next moment he felt the grip of Arizona's +sinewy hand on his arm, and was being dragged round the corral as the +sound of horses' hoofs came thundering toward him. + +"It's them!" + +It was the only explanation Arizona vouchsafed. They reached the +horses and both sprang into the saddle, and the American's voice +whispered hoarsely-- + +"Bend low. Guess these walls'll save us, an' we've got a sheer sight +o' all the corral gates. Savee? Shoot careful, an' aim true. An' watch +out on the bluff. The sheriff's around." + +And now the inexperienced Tresler saw the whole scheme. The masterly +generalship of his comrade filled him with admiration. And he had +thought him ill, his brain turned! For some reason he believed the +raiders were approaching, but not being absolutely sure, he had found +an excuse for not turning in as usual, and cloaked all his suspicions +for fear of giving a false alarm. And their present position was one +of carefully considered strategy; the only possible one from which +they could hope to achieve any advantage, for, sheltered, they yet had +every gate of the corrals within gunshot. + +But there was little time for reflection or speculation. If the +sheriff's men came, well and good. In the meantime a crowd of a dozen +men had charged down upon the corrals, a silent, ghostly band; the +only noise they made was the clatter of their horses' hoofs. + +Both men, watching, were lying over their horses' necks. Arizona was +the first to shoot. Again his gun belched a death-dealing shot. +Tresler saw one figure reel and fall with a groan. Then his own gun +was heard. His aim was less effective, and only brought a volley in +reply from the raiders. That volley was the signal for the real battle +to begin. The ambush of the two defenders was located, and the +rustlers divided, and came sweeping round to the attack. + +But Arizona was ready. Both horses wheeled round and raced out of +their improvised fort, and Tresler, following the keen-witted man, +appreciated his resource as he darted into another angle between two +other corrals. The darkness favored them, and the rustlers swept by. +Arizona only waited long enough for them to get well clear, then his +gun rang out again, and Tresler's too. But the game was played out. A +straggler sighted them and gave the alarm, and instantly the rest took +up the chase. + +"Round the corrals!" + +As he spoke Arizona turned in his saddle and fired into the mob. A +perfect hail of shots replied, and the bullets came singing all round +them. He was as cool and deliberate as though he were hunting +jack-rabbits. Tresler joined him in a fresh fusillade, and two more +saddles were emptied, but the next moment a gasp told Arizona that his +comrade was hit, and he turned only just in time to prevent him +reeling out of the saddle. + +"Hold up, boy!" he cried. "Kep your saddle if hell's let loose. I'll +kep 'em busy." + +And the wounded man, actuated by a similar spirit, sat bolt upright, +while the two horses sped on. They were round at the front again. But +though Arizona was as good as his word, and his gun was emptied and +reloaded and emptied again, it was a hopeless contest--hopeless from +the beginning. Tresler was bleeding seriously from a wound in his +neck, and his aim was becoming more and more uncertain. But his will +was fighting hard for mastery over his bodily weakness. Just as they +headed again toward the bluff, Arizona gave a great yank at his reins +and his pony was thrown upon its haunches. The Lady Jezebel, too, as +though working in concert with her mate, suddenly stopped dead. + +The cause of the cowpuncher's action was a solitary horseman standing +right ahead of them gazing out at the bluff. The plainsman's gun was +up in an instant, in spite of the pursuers behind. Death was in his +eye as he took aim, but at that instant there was a shout from the +bluff, and the cry was taken up behind him--"Sheriff's posse!" That +cry lost him his chance of fetching Red Mask down. Before he could let +the hammer of his gun fall, the horseman had wheeled about and +vanished in the darkness. + +Simultaneously the pursuers swung out, turned, and the next moment +were in full retreat under a perfect hail of carbine-fire from the +sheriff's men. + +And as the latter followed in hot pursuit, Arizona hailed them-- + +"You've missed him; he's taken the river-bank for it. It's Red Mask! I +see him." + +But now Tresler needed all his friend's attention. Arizona saw him +fall forward and lie clinging to his saddle-horn. He sprang to his +aid, and, dismounting, lifted him gently to the ground. Then he turned +his own horse loose, leading the Lady Jezebel while he supported the +sick man up to the shack. + +Here his patient fainted dead away, but he was equal to the emergency. +He examined the wound, and found an ugly rent in the neck, whence the +blood was pumping slowly. He saw at once that a small artery had been +severed, and its adjacency to the jugular made it a matter of extreme +danger. His medical skill was small, but he contrived to wash and bind +the wound roughly. Then he quietly reloaded his guns, and, with the +aid of a stiff horn of whisky, roused some life in his patient. He +knew it would only be a feeble flicker, but while it lasted he wanted +to get him on to the Lady Jezebel's back. + +This he contrived after considerable difficulty. The mare resented the +double burden, as was only to be expected. But the cowpuncher was +desperate and knew how to handle her. + +None but Arizona would have attempted such a feat with a horse of her +description; but he must have speed if he was going to save his +friend's life, and he knew she could give it. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +WHAT LOVE WILL DO + + +Daylight was breaking when the jaded Lady Jezebel and her double +freight raced into the ranch. The mare had done the journey in +precisely two hours and a quarter. Arizona galloped her up to the +house and rounded the lean-to in which Joe slept. Then he pulled up +and shouted. Just then he had no thought for the rancher or Jake. He +had thought for no one but Tresler. + +His third shout brought Joe tumbling out of his bed. + +"Say, I've got a mighty sick man here," he cried, directly he heard +the choreman moving. "Git around an' lend a hand; gentle, too." + +"That you, Arizona?" Joe, half awake, questioned, blinking up at the +horseman in the faint light. + +"I guess; an' say, 'fore I git answerin' no fool questions, git a holt +on this notion. Red Mask's bin around Willow Bluff, an' Tresler's done +up. Savee?" + +"Tresler, did you say?" asked a girl's voice from the kitchen doorway. +"Wounded?" + +There was a world of fear in the questions, which were scarcely above +a whisper. + +Arizona was lifting Tresler down into Joe's arms. "I 'lows I didn't +know you wus ther', missie," he replied, without turning from his +task. "Careful, Joe; easy--easy now. He's dreadful sick, I guess. +Yes, missie, it's him. They've kind o' scratched him some. 'Tain't +nothin' to gas about; jest barked his neck. Kind o' needs a bit o' +band'ge. Gorl durn you, Joe! Git your arm under his shoulders an' kep +his head steady; he'll git bleedin' to death ef y' ain't careful. +Quiet, you jade!" he cried fiercely, to the mare whom Diane had +frightened with her white robe as she came to help. "No, missie, not +you," Arizona exclaimed. "He's all blood an' mussed up." Then he +discovered that she had little on but a night-dress. "Gee! but you +ain't wropped up, missie. Jest git right in. Wal," as she deliberately +proceeded to help the struggling Joe, "ef you will; but Joe ken do it, +I guess. Ther', that's it. I ken git off'n this crazy slut of a mare +now." + +Directly Arizona had quit the saddle he relieved Diane, and, with the +utmost gentleness, started to take the sick man into the lean-to. But +the girl protested at once. + +"Not in there," she said sharply. "Take him into the house. I'll go +and fix a bed up-stairs. Bring him through the kitchen." + +She spoke quite calmly. Too calmly, Joe thought. + +"To that house?" Arizona protested. + +"Yes, yes, of course." Then the passion of grief let itself loose, and +Diane cried, "And why not? Where else should he go? He belongs to me. +Why do you stand there like an imbecile? Take him at once. Oh, Jack, +Jack, why don't you speak? Oh, take him quickly! You said he would +bleed to death. He isn't dead? No, tell me he isn't dead?" + +"Dead? Dead? Ha, ha!" Arizona threw all the scorn he was capable of +into the words, and laughed with funereal gravity. "Say, that's real +good--real good. Him dead? Wal, I guess not. Pshaw! Say, missie, you +ain't ast after my health, an' I'm guessin' I oughter be sicker'n him, +wi' that mare o' his. Say, jest git right ahead an' fix that bunk fer +him, like the daisy gal you are. What about bl--your father, missie?" + +"Never mind father. Come along." + +The man's horse-like attempt at lightness had its effect. The girl +pulled herself together. She realized the emergency. She knew that +Tresler needed her help. Arizona's manner had only emphasized the +gravity of his case. + +She ran on ahead, and the other, bearing the unconscious man, +followed. + +"Never mind father," Arizona muttered doubtfully. "Wal, here goes." +Then he called back to Joe: "Git around that mare an' sling the saddle +on a fresh plug; guess I'll need it." + +He passed through the kitchen, and stepping into the hall he was +startled by the apparition of the blind man standing in the doorway of +his bedroom. He was clad in his customary dressing-gown, and his eyes +glowed ruddily in the light of the kitchen lamp. + +"What's this?" he asked sharply. + +"Tresler's bin done up," Arizona replied at once. "Guess the gang got +around Willow Bluff--God's curse light on 'em!" + +"Hah! And where are you taking him?" + +"Up-sta'rs," was the brief reply. Then the cowpuncher bethought him of +his duty to his employer. "Guess the cattle are safe, fer which you +ken thank the sheriff's gang. Miss Dianny's hustlin' a bunk fer him," +he added. + +In spite of his usual assurance, Arizona never felt easy with this +man. Now the rancher's manner decidedly thawed. + +"Yes, yes," he said gently. "Take the poor boy up-stairs. You'd better +go for the doctor. You can give me the details afterward." + +He turned back into his room, and the other passed up the stairs. + +He laid the sick man on the bed, and pointed out to the girl the +bandage on his neck, advising, in his practical fashion, its +readjustment. Then he went swiftly from the house and rode into Forks +for Doc. Osler, the veterinary surgeon, the only available medical man +in that part of the country. + +When Diane found herself alone with the man she loved stretched out +before her, inert, like one dead, her first inclination was to sit +down and weep for him. She could face her own troubles with a certain +fortitude, but to see this strong man laid low, perhaps dying, was a +different thing, and her womanly weakness was near to overcoming her. +But though the unshed tears filled her eyes, her love brought its +courage to her aid, and she approached the task Arizona had pointed +out. + +With deft fingers she removed the sodden bandage, through which the +blood was slowly oozing. The flow, which at once began again, alarmed +her, and set her swiftly to work. Now she understood as well as +Arizona did what was amiss. She hurried out to her own room, and +returned quickly with materials for rebandaging, and her arms full of +clothes. Then, with the greatest care, she proceeded to bind up the +neck, placing a cork on the artery below the severance. This she +strapped down so tightly that, for the time at least, the bleeding was +staunched. Her object accomplished, she proceeded to dress herself +ready for the doctor's coming. + +She had taken her place at the bedside, and was meditating on what +further could be done for her patient, when an event happened on which +she had in nowise reckoned. Somebody was ascending the stair with the +shuffling gait of one feeling his way. It was her father. The first +time within her memory that he had visited the upper part of the +house. + +A look of alarm leapt into her eyes as she gazed at the door, watching +for his coming, and she realized only too well the possibilities of +the situation. What would he say? What would he do? + +A moment later she was facing him with calm courage. Her fears had +been stifled by the knowledge of her lover's helplessness. One look at +his dear, unconscious form had done for her what nothing else could +have done. Her filial duty went out like a candle snuffed with wet +fingers. There was not even a spark left. + +Julian Marbolt stepped across the threshold, and his head slowly moved +round as though to ascertain in what direction his daughter was +sitting. The oil-lamp seemed to attract his blind attention, and his +eyes fixed themselves upon it; but for a moment only. Then they passed +on until they settled on the girl. + +"Where is he?" he asked coldly. "I can hear you breathing. Is he +dead?" + +Diane sprang up and bent over her patient. "No," she said, half +fearing that her father's inquiry was prophetic. "He is unconscious +from loss of blood. Arizona----" + +"Tchah! Arizona!--I want to talk to you. Here, give me your hand and +lead me to the bedside. I will sit here. This place is unfamiliar." + +Diane did as she was bid. She was pale. A strained look was in her +soft brown eyes, but there was determination in the set of her lips. + +"What is the matter with you, girl?" her father asked. The softness of +his speech in no way disguised the iciness of his manner. "You're +shaking." + +"There's nothing the matter with me," she replied pointedly. + +"Ah, thinking of him." His hand reached out until it rested on one of +Tresler's legs. His remark seemed to require no answer, and a silence +fell while Diane watched the eyes so steadily directed upon the sick +man. Presently he went on. "These men have done well. They have saved +the cattle. Arizona mentioned the sheriff. I don't know much about it +yet, but it seems to me this boy must have contrived their assistance. +Smart work, if he did so." + +"Yes, father, and brave," added the girl in a low tone. + +His words had raised hope within her. But with his next he dashed it. + +"Brave? It was his duty," he snapped, resentful immediately. The red +eyes were turned upon his daughter, and she fancied she saw something +utterly cruel in their painful depths. "You are uncommonly +interested," he went on slowly. "I was warned before that he and you +were too thick. I told you of it--cautioned you. Isn't that +sufficient, or have I to----" He left his threat unfinished. + +A color flushed slowly into Diane's cheeks and her eyes sparkled. + +"No, it isn't sufficient, father. You have no right to stop me +speaking to Mr. Tresler. I have bowed to your decision with regard to +the other men on the ranch. There, perhaps, you had a right--a +parent's right. But it is different with Mr. Tresler. He is a +gentleman. As for character, you yourself admit it is unimpeachable. +Then what right have you to refuse to allow me even speech with him? +It is absurd, tyrannical; and I refuse to obey you." + +The frowning brows drew sharply down over the man's eyes. And Diane +understood the sudden rising of storm behind the mask-like face. She +waited with a desperate calmness. It was the moral bravery prompted by +her new-born love. + +But the storm held off, controlled by that indomitable will which made +Julian Marbolt an object of fear to all who came into contact with +him. + +"You are an ungrateful girl, a foolish girl," he said quietly. "You +are ungrateful that you refuse to obey me; and foolish, that you think +to marry him." + +Diane sprang to her feet. "I--how----" + +"Tut! Do not protest. I know you have promised to be his wife. If you +denied it you would lie." He sat for a moment enjoying the girl's +discomfort. Then he went on, with a cruel smile about his lips as she +returned to her seat with a movement that was almost a collapse. +"That's better," he said, following her action by means of his +wonderful instinct. "Now let us be sensible--very sensible." + +His tone had become persuasive, such as might have been used to a +child, and the girl wondered what further cruelty it masked. She had +not long to wait. + +"You are going to give up this madness," he said coldly. "You will +show yourself amenable to reason--my reason--or I shall enforce my +demands in another way." + +The girl's exasperation was growing with each moment, but she kept +silence, waiting for him to finish. + +"You will never marry this man," he went on, with quiet emphasis. "Nor +any other man while I live. There is no marriage for you, my girl. +There can be no marriage for you. And the more 'unimpeachable' a man's +character the less the possibility." + +"I don't pretend to understand you," Diane replied, with a coldness +equal to her father's own. + +"No; perhaps you don't." The man chuckled fiendishly. + +Tears sprang into the girl's eyes. She could no longer check them. +And with them came the protest that she was also powerless to +withhold. + +"Why may I not marry? Why can I not marry? Surely I can claim the +right of every woman to marry the man of her choice. I know you have +no good will for me, father. Why, I cannot understand. I have always +obeyed you; I have ever striven to do my duty. If there has never been +any great affection displayed, it is not my fault. For, ever since I +can remember, you have done your best to kill the love I would have +given you. How have I been ungrateful? What have I to be grateful for? +I cannot remember one single kindness you have ever shown me. You have +set up a barrier between me and the world outside this ranch. I am a +prisoner here. Why? Am I so hateful? Have I no claims on your +toleration? Am I not your own flesh and blood?" + +"No!" + +The man's answer came with staggering force. It was the bursting of +the storm of passion, which even his will could no longer restrain. +But it was the whole storm, for he went no further. It was Diane who +spoke next. Her cheeks had assumed an ashen hue, and her lips trembled +so that she could scarcely frame her words. + +"What do you mean?" she gasped. + +"Tut! Your crazy obstinacy drives me to it," her father answered +impatiently, but with perfect control. "Oh, you need have no fear. +There is no legal shame to you. But there is that which will hit you +harder, I think." + +"Father! What are you saying?" + +Something of the man's meaning was growing upon her. Old hints and +innuendoes against her mother were recalled by his words. Her throat +parched while she watched the relentless face of this man who was +still her father. + +"Saying? You know the story of my blindness. You know I spent three +years visiting nearly every eye-doctor in Europe. But what you don't +know, and shall know, is that I returned home to Jamaica at the end of +that time to find myself the father of a three-days'-old baby girl." +The man's teeth were clenched, rage and pain distorted his face, +rendering his sightless stare a hideous thing. "Yes," he went on, but +now more to himself, "I returned home to that, and in time to hear the +last words your mother uttered in life; in time to feel--feel her +death-struggles." He mouthed his words with unmistakable relish, and +relapsed into silence. + +Diane fell back with a bitter cry. The cry roused her father. + +"Well?" he continued. "You'll give this man up--now?" + +For some minutes there was no answer. The girl sat like a statue +carved in dead white stone; and the expression of her face was as +stony as the mould of her features. Her blood was chilled; her brain +refused its office; and her heart--it was as though that fount of life +lay crushed within her bosom. Even the man lying sick on the bed +beside her had no meaning for her. + +"Well?" her father demanded impatiently. "You are going to give +Tresler up now?" + +She heard him this time. With a rush everything came to her, and a +feeling of utter helplessness swept over her. Oh, the shame of it! +Suddenly she flung forward on the bed and sobbed her heart out beside +the man she must give up. He had been the one bright ray in the dull +gray of her life. His love, come so quickly, so suddenly, to her had +leavened the memory of her unloved years. Their recollection had been +thrust into the background to give place to the sunshine of a precious +first love. And now it must all go. There was no other course open to +her, she told herself; and in this decision was revealed her father's +consummate devilishness. He understood her straightforward pride, if +he had no appreciation of it. Then, suddenly, there came a feeling of +resentment and hatred for the author of her misfortune, and she sat up +with the tears only half dry on her cheeks. Her father's dead eyes +were upon her, and their hateful depths seemed to be searching her. +She knew she must submit to his will. He mastered her as he mastered +everybody else. + +"It is not what I will," she said, in a low voice. "I understand; our +lives must remain apart." Then anger brought harshness into her tone. +"I would have given him up of my own accord had I known. I could not +have thrust the shame of my birth upon him. But you--you have kept +this from me all these years, saving it, in your heartless way, for +such a moment as this. Why have you told me? Why do you keep me at +your side? Oh, I hate you!" + +"Yes, yes, of course you do," her father said, quite unmoved by her +attack. "Now you are tasting something--only something--of the +bitterness of my life. And it is good that you should. The parent's +sins--the children. Yes, you certainly can feel----" + +"For heaven's sake leave me!" the girl broke in, unable to stand the +taunting--the hideous enjoyment of the man. + +"Not yet; I haven't done. This man----" The rancher leant over the +bed, and one hand felt its way over Tresler's body until it rested +over his heart. "At one time I was glad he came here. I had reasons. +His money was as good as in my pocket. He would have bought stock from +me at a goodish profit. Now I have changed my mind. I would sacrifice +that. It would be better perhaps--perhaps. No, he is not dead yet. But +he may die, eh, Diane? It would be better were he to die; it would +save your explanation to him. Yes, let him die. You are not going to +marry him. You would not care to see him marry another, as, of course, +he will. Let him die. Love? Love? Why, it would be kindness to +yourselves. Yes, let him die." + +"You--you--wretch!" Diane was on her feet, and her eyes blazed down +upon the cruel, working face before her. The cry was literally wrung +from her. "And that is the man who was ready to give his life for your +interests. That is the man whose cleverness and bravery you even +praised. You want me to refuse him the trifling aid I can give him. +You are a monster! You have parted us, but it is not sufficient; you +want his life." + +She suddenly bent over and seized her father's hand, where it rested +upon Tresler's heart, and dragged it away. + +"Take your hand off him; don't touch him!" she cried in a frenzy. "You +are not----" + +But she got no further. The lean, sinewy hand had closed over hers, +and held them both as in a vice; and the pressure made her cry out. + +"Listen!" he said fiercely. He, too, was standing now, and his tall +figure dwarfed hers. "He is to be moved out of here. I will have Jake +to see to it in the morning. And you shall know what it is to thwart +me if you dare to interfere." + +He abruptly released her hands and turned away; but he shot round +again as he heard her reply. + +"I shall nurse him," she said. + +"You will not." + +The girl laughed hysterically. The scene had been too much for her, +and she was on the verge of breaking down. + +"We shall see," she cried after him, as he passed out of the room. + +The whole ranch was astir when Arizona returned with Doc. Osler. Nor +did they come alone. Fyles had met them on the trail. He had just +returned from a fruitless pursuit of the raiders. He had personally +endeavored to track Red Mask, but the rustler had evaded him in the +thick bush that lined the river; and his men had been equally +unsuccessful with the rest of the band. The hills had been their goal, +and they had made it through the excellence of their horses. Although +the pursuers were well mounted their horses were heavier, and lost +ground hopelessly in the midst of the broken land of the foot-hills. + +Jake was closeted with the rancher at the coming of the doctor and his +companions; but their confabulation was brought to an abrupt +termination at once. + +The doctor went to the wounded man, who still remained unconscious, +while Fyles joined the rancher and his foreman in a discussion of the +night's doings. And while these things were going on Arizona and Joe +shared the hospitality of the lean-to. + +The meeting in the rancher's den had not proceeded far when a summons +from up-stairs cut it short. Diane brought a message from the doctor +asking her father and the sheriff to join him. Marbolt displayed +unusual alacrity, and Fyles followed him as he tapped his way up to +the sick-room. Here the stick was abandoned, and he was led to his +seat by his daughter. Diane was pale, but alert and determined; while +her father wore a gentle look of the utmost concern. The doctor was +standing beside the window gazing out over the pastures, but he turned +at once as they came in. + +"A nasty case, Mr. Marbolt," he said, the moment the rancher had taken +up his position. "A very nasty case." He was a brusque little man with +a pair of keen black eyes, which he turned on the blind man curiously. +"An artery cut by bullet. Small artery. Your daughter most cleverly +stopped bleeding. Many thanks to her. Patient lost gallons of blood. +Precarious position--very. No danger from wound now. Exhaustion only. +Should he bleed again--death. But he won't; artery tied up securely. +Miss Marbolt says you desire patient removed to usual quarters. I say +no! Remove him--artery break afresh--death. Sheriff, I order +distinctly this man remains where he is. Am I right? Have I right?" + +"Undoubtedly." Then Fyles turned upon the blind man. "His orders are +your law, Mr. Marbolt," he said. "And you, of course, will be held +responsible for any violation of them." + +The blind man nodded in acquiescence. + +"Good," said the doctor, rubbing his hands. "Nothing more for me now. +Return to-morrow. Miss Marbolt, admirable nurse. Wish I was patient. +He will be about again in two weeks. Artery small. Health good--young. +Oh, yes, no fear. Only exhaustion. Hope you catch villains. +Good-morning. Might have severed jugular--near shave." + +Doc. Osler bowed to the girl and passed out muttering, "Capital +nurse--beautiful." His departure brought the rancher to his feet, and +he groped his way to the door. As he passed his daughter he paused and +gently patted her on the back. + +"Ah, child," he said, with a world of tolerant kindness in his voice, +"I still think you are wrong. He would have been far better in his own +quarters, his familiar surroundings, and amongst his friends. You are +quite inexperienced, and these men understand bullet wounds as well as +any doctor. However, have your way. I hope you won't have cause to +regret it." + +"All right, father," Diane replied, without turning her eyes from the +contemplation of her sick lover. + +And Fyles, standing at the foot of the bed watching the scene, +speculated shrewdly as to the relations in which the girl and her +patient stood, and the possible parental disapproval of the same. +Certainly he had no idea of the matters which had led up to the +necessity for his official services to enforce the doctor's orders. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE LIGHTED LAMP + + +Diane was by no means satisfied with her small victory. She had gained +her point, it is true, but she had gained it by means which gave no +promise of a happy outcome to her purpose. + +Left alone with her patient she had little to do but reflect on her +position, and her thoughts brought her many a sigh, much heart-racking +and anxiety. For herself she allowed little thought. Her mind was made +up as to her future. Her love was to be snatched away while yet the +first sweet glamour of it was upon her. Every hope, every little +castle she had raised in her maiden thoughts, had been ruthlessly +shattered, and the outlook of her future was one dull gray vista of +hopelessness. It was the old order accentuated, and the pain of it +gripped her heart with every moment she gave to its contemplation. +Happily the life she had lived had strengthened her; she was not the +girl to weep at every ill that befell. The first shock had driven her +to tears, but that had passed. She was of a nature that can suffer +bravely, and face the world dry-eyed, gently, keeping the bitterness +of her lot to herself, and hiding her own pain under an earnest +attempt to help others. + +Tresler was her all; and that all meant far more than mere earthly +love. To her he was something that must be cherished as a priceless +gem entrusted to her care, and his honor was more sacred to her than +her own. Therefore all personal considerations must be passed over, +and she must give him up. + +But if his honor was safe in her keeping, his personal safety was +another matter. In pitting herself against her father's will she fully +realized the danger she was incurring. Therefore she racked her sorely +taxed brain for the best means of safeguarding her charge. + +She hardly knew what she feared. There was no real danger she could +think of, but her instinct warned her to watchfulness, to be prepared +for anything. She felt sure that her father would seek some means of +circumventing the sheriff's mandate. What form would his attempt take? + +After half an hour's hard thinking she made up her mind to consult her +wise old counselor, Joe, and enlist his aid. With this object in view +she went down-stairs and visited the lean-to. Here she found both +Arizona and Joe. Arizona was waiting a summons from the rancher, who +was still busy with Jake and Fyles. At first she thought of consulting +her adviser privately, but finally decided to take both men into her +confidence; and this the more readily since she knew her lover's +liking for the hot-headed cowpuncher. + +Both men stood up as she entered. Arizona dragged his slouch hat off +with clumsy haste. + +"Boys," the girl said at once, "I've come to ask you for a little +help." + +[Illustration: Left alone with her patient she had little to do but +reflect] + +"Makes me glad, missie," said the cowpuncher, with alacrity. + +Joe contented himself with an upward glance of inquiry. + +Diane nodded with an assumption of brightness. + +"Well, it's this," she said. "Jack mustn't be left for the next few +days. Now, I am his nurse, but I have household duties to perform and +shall be forced to leave him at times. You, Arizona, won't be able to +do anything in the daytime, because you are occupied on the ranch. But +I thought you, Joe, could help me by being in the kitchen as much as +possible. You see, in the kitchen you can hear the least sound coming +from up-stairs. The room is directly overhead. In that way I shall be +free to do my house." + +"Guess you had trouble fixin' him up-stairs?" Joe inquired slowly. +"Doc. Osler wus sayin' somethin' 'fore he went." + +Diane turned away. The shrewd old eyes were reading her like a book. + +"Yes, father wanted him put in the bunkhouse." + +"Ah." Joe's twisted face took on a curious look. "Yes, I guess I ken +do that. What's to happen o' night time?" + +"Oh, I can sit up with him. The night is all right," the girl returned +easily. + +"Guess we'd best take it turn about like," Joe suggested. + +"No, it wouldn't do." + +"Guess it wouldn't do. That's so," the other observed thoughtfully. +"Howsum, I ken set around the kitchen o' nights. I shan't need no +lights. Y' see, wi' the door open right into the hall ther' ain't no +sound but what I'll hear." + +The man's meaning was plain enough, but the girl would not take it. + +"No," she said, "it's in the daytime I want you." + +"Daytime? I guess that's fixed." Joe looked up dissatisfied. + +At this juncture Arizona broke in with a scheme for his own +usefulness. + +"Say, missie, any time o' night you jest tap hard on that windy I'll +know you want the doc. fetchin'. An' I'll come right along up an' git +orders. I'll be waitin' around." + +The girl looked him squarely in the eyes, seeking the meaning that lay +behind his words. But the man's expression was sphinx-like. She felt +that these rough creatures, instead of acting as advisers, had assumed +the responsibilities she had only asked their assistance in. + +"You are good fellows both. I can't thank you; but you've taken a +weight off my mind." + +"Ther' ain't no thanks, missie. I figger as a doc. is an a'mighty +ne'sary thing when a feller's sick," observed Arizona, quietly. + +"Spec'ally at night time," put in Joe, seriously. + +"I'll get back to my patient," Diane said abruptly. And as she flitted +away to the house the men heard the heavy tread of Jake coming round +the lean-to, and understood the hastiness of her retreat. + +The next minute the foreman had summoned Arizona to the rancher's +presence. + +Diane had done well to enlist the help of these men. Without some aid +it would have been impossible to look after Tresler. She feared her +father, as well she might. What would be easier than for him to get +her out of the way, and then have Jake deport her patient to the +bunkhouse? Doc. Osler's threats of life or death had been exaggerated +to help her carry her point, she knew, and, also, she fully realized +that her father understood this was so. He was not the man to be +scared of any bogey like that. Besides, his parting words, so gentle, +so kindly; she had grown to distrust him most in his gentler moods. + +All that day, assisted by Joe, she watched at the sickbed. Tresler was +never left for long; and when it was absolutely necessary to leave him +Joe's sharp ears were straining for any alarming sound, and, +unauthorized by Diane, his eyes were on the hallway, watching the +rancher's bedroom door. He had no compunction in admitting his fears +to himself. He had wormed the whole story of the rancher's anger at +Tresler's presence in the house from his young mistress, and, also, he +understood that Diane's engagement to her patient was known to her +father. Therefore his lynx eyes never closed, his keen ears were ever +strained, and he moved about with a gun in his hip-pocket. He didn't +know what might happen, but his movements conveyed his opinion of the +man with whom they had to deal. Arizona had been despatched with Fyles +to Willow Bluff. There were wounded men there to be identified, and +the officer wanted his aid in examining the battlefield. + +"But he'll git around to-night," Joe had said, after bringing the news +to Diane. "Sure--sure as pinewood breeds bugs." + +And the girl was satisfied. The day wore on, and night brought no +fresh anxiety. Diane was at her post, Joe was alert, and though no one +had heard of Arizona's return, twice, in the small hours, the choreman +heard a footfall outside his lean-to, and he made a shrewd guess as to +whose it was. + +The second and third day passed satisfactorily, but still Tresler +displayed no sign of life. He lay on the bed just as he had been +originally placed there. Each day the brusque little doctor drove out +from Forks, and each day he went back leaving little encouragement +behind him. Before he went away, after his third visit, he shook his +head gravely in response to the nurse's eager inquiries. + +"He's got to get busy soon," he said, as he returned his liniments and +medical stores to his bag. "Don't like it. Bad--very bad. Nature +exhausting. He must rouse soon--or death. Three days----Tut, tut! +Still no sign. Cheer up, nurse. Give him three more. Then drastic +treatment. Won't come till he wakes--no use. Send for me. Good girl. +Stick to it. Sorry. Good-bye." + +And patting Diane on the back the man bustled out in his jerky +fashion, leaving her weeping over the verdict he had left behind. + +It was the strain of watching that had unnerved her. She was bodily +and mentally weary. Her eyes and head ached with the seemingly endless +vigil. Three days and nights and barely six hours' sleep over all, +and those only snatched at broken intervals. + +And now another night confronted her. So overwrought was she that she +even thought of seeking the aid old Joe had proffered. She thought +quite seriously of it for some moments. Could she not smuggle him +up-stairs after her father had had his supper and retired to his +bedroom? She had no idea that Joe had, secretly, spent almost as much +time on the watch as she had done. However, she came to no actual +decision, and went wearily down and prepared the evening meal. She +waited on the blind man in her usual patient, silent manner, and +afterward went back to the kitchen and prepared to face the long +dreary night. + +Joe was finishing the washing-up. He was longer over it than usual, +though he had acquired a wonderful proficiency in his culinary duties +since he was first employed on the ranch. Diane paid little heed to +him, and as soon as her share of the work was finished, prepared to +retire up-stairs. + +"There's just the sweeping up, Joe," she said. "When you've finished +that we are through. I must go up to him." + +Joe glanced round from his washing-trough, but went on with his work. + +"He ain't showed no sign, Miss Dianny?" he asked eagerly. + +"No, Joe." + +The girl spoke almost in a whisper, leaning against the table with a +deep sigh of weariness. + +"Say, Miss Dianny," the little man suggested softly, "that doc. +feller said mebbe he'd give him three days. It's a real long spell. +Seems to me you'll need to be up an' around come that time." + +"Oh, I shall be 'up and around,' Joe." + +The grizzled old head shook doubtfully, and he moved away from his +trough, drying his hands, and came over to where she was standing. + +"Say, I jest can't sleep noways. I'm like that, I guess. I git spells. +I wus kind o' thinkin' mebbe I'd set around like. A good night's slep +'ud fix you right. I've heerd tell as folks kind o' influences their +patiences some. You bein' tired, an' sleppy, an' miser'ble, now mebbe +that's jest wot's keppin' him back----" + +Diane shook her head. She saw through his round-about subterfuge, and +its kindliness touched her. + +"No, no, Joe," she said almost tenderly. "Not on your life. You would +give me your last crust if you were starving. You are doing all, and +more than any one else would do for me, and I will accept nothing +further." + +"You're figgerin' wrong," he retorted quite harshly. "'Tain't fer you. +No, no, it's fer him. Y' see we're kind o' dependin' on him, Arizona +an' me----" + +"What for?" the girl asked quietly. + +"Wal, y' see--wal--it's like this. He's goin' to be a rancher. Yes, +don't y' see?" he asked, with a pitiful attempt at a knowing leer. + +"No, I don't." + +"Say, mebbe Arizona an' me'll git a nice little job--a nice little +job. Eh?" + +"You are talking nonsense, and you know it." + +"Eh? What?" + +The little man stood abashed at the girl's tone. + +"You're only saying all this to get me to sleep to-night, instead of +sitting up. Well, I'm not going to. You thinking of mercenary things +like that. Oh, Joe, it's almost funny." + +Joe's face flushed as far as it was capable of flushing. + +"Wal," he said, "I jest thought ther' wa'n't no use in two o' us +settin' up." + +"Nor is there. I'm going to do it. You've made me feel quite fresh +with your silly talk." + +"Ah, mebbe. Guess I'll swep up." + +Diane took the hint and went up-stairs, her eyes brimming with tears. +In her present state of unhappiness Joe's utter unselfishness was more +than she could bear. + +She took her place at the bedside, determined to sit there as long as +she could keep awake, afterward she would adopt a "sentry-go" in the +passage. For an hour she battled with sleep. She kept her eyes open, +but her senses were dull and she passed the time in a sort of dream, a +nasty, fanciful dream, in which Tresler was lying dead on the bed +beside her, and she was going through the agony of realization. She +was mourning him, living on in the dreary round of her life under her +father's roof, listening to his daily sneers, and submitting to his +studied cruelties. No doubt this waking dream would have continued +until real sleep had stolen upon her unawares, but, after an hour, +something occurred to fully arouse her. There was a distinct movement +on the bed. Tresler had suddenly drawn up one arm, which, almost +immediately, fell again on the coverlet, as though the spasmodic +movement had been uncontrolled by any power either mental or physical. + +She was on her feet in an instant, bending over him ready to +administer the drugs Doc. Osler had left with her. And by the light of +the shaded lamp she saw a distinct change in the pallor of his face. +It was no longer death-like; there was a tinge of life, however faint, +in the drawn features. And as she beheld it she could have cried aloud +in her joy. + +She administered the restoratives and returned to her seat with a +fast-beating heart. And suddenly she remembered with alarm how near +sleep she had been. She rose abruptly and began to pace the room. The +moment was a critical one. Her lover might regain consciousness at any +time. And with this thought came an access of caution. She went out on +the landing and looked at the head of the stairs. Then she crept back. +An inspiration had come to her. She would barricade the approach, and +though even to herself she did not admit the thought, it was the +recollection of her father's blindness that prompted her. + +Taking two chairs she propped them at the head of the stairs in such a +position that the least accidental touch would topple them headlong. +The scheme appealed to her. Then, dreading sleep more than ever, she +took up her "sentry-go" on the landing, glancing in at the sick-room +at every turn in her walk. + +The hours dragged wearily on. Tresler gave no further sign. It was +after midnight, and the girl's eyes refused to keep open any longer; +added to which she frequently stumbled as she paced to and fro. In +desperation she fetched the lamp from the sick-room and passed into +her own, and bathed her face in cold water. Then she busied herself +with tidying the place up. Anything to keep herself awake. After a +while, feeling better, she sat on the edge of her bed to rest. It was +a fatal mistake. Her eyes closed against all effort of will. She was +helpless. Nothing could have stopped her. Exhausted nature claimed +her--and she slept. + +And Tresler was rousing. His constitution had asserted itself, and the +restorative Diane had administered was doing the rest. He moved +several times, but as yet his strength was insufficient to rouse him +to full consciousness. He lay there with his brain struggling against +his overwhelming weakness. Thought was hard at work with the mistiness +of dreaming. He was half aware that he was stretched out upon a bed, +yet it seemed to him that he was bound down with fetters of iron, +which resisted his wildest efforts to break. It seemed to him that he +was struggling fiercely, and that Jake was looking on mocking him. At +last, utterly weary and exhausted he gave up trying and called upon +Arizona. He shouted loudly, but he could not hear his own voice; he +shouted again and again, raising his screams to a fearful pitch, but +still no sound came. Then he thought that Jake went away, and he was +left utterly alone. He lay quite still waiting, and presently he +realized that he was stretched out on the prairie, staked down to the +ground by shackles securing his hands and feet; and the moon was +shining, and he could hear the distant sound of the coyotes and +prairie dogs. This brought him to a full understanding. His enemies +had done this thing so that he should be eaten alive by the starving +scavengers of the prairie. He pondered long; wondering, as the cries +of the coyotes drew nearer, how long it would be before the first of +the loathsome creatures would attack him. Now he could see their forms +in the moonlight. They came slowly, slowly. One much bigger than the +rest was leading; and as the creature drew near he saw that it had the +face of the rancher, whose blind eyes shone out like two coals of fire +in the moonlight. It reared itself on its hind legs, and to his utter +astonishment, as this man-wolf stood gazing down upon him, he saw that +it was wearing the dressing-gown in which the rancher always appeared. +It was a weird apparition, and the shackled man felt the force of +those savage, glowing eyes, gazing so cruelly into his. But there +could be no resistance, he was utterly at the creature's mercy. He saw +the gleaming teeth bared in anticipation of the meal awaiting it, but, +with wolf-like cunning, it dissembled. It moved around, gazing in +every direction to see that the coast was clear, it paused and stood +listening; then it came on. Now it was standing near him, and he could +feel the warmth of its reeking breath blowing on his face. Lower +drooped its head, and its front feet, which he recognized as hands, +were placed upon his neck. Then a faint and distant voice reached him, +and he knew that this man-wolf was speaking. "So you'd marry her," it +said. "You! But we'll take no chances--no chances. I could tear your +throat out, but I won't; no, I won't do that. A little blood--just a +little." And then the dreaming man felt the fingers moving about his +throat. They felt cold and clammy, and the night air chilled him. + +Then came a change, one of those fantastic changes which dreamland +loves, and which drives the dreamer, even in his sleeping thought, +nearly distracted. The dark vista of the prairie suddenly lit. A great +light shone over all, and the dreaming man could see nothing but the +light--that, and the wolf-man. The ghoulish creature stood its ground. +The fingers were still at his throat, but now they moved uncertainly, +groping. There was no longer the deliberate movement of set purpose. +It was as though the light had blinded the cruel scavenger, that its +purpose was foiled through its power of vision being suddenly +destroyed. It was a breathless moment in the dream. + +But the tension quickly relaxed. The hands were drawn abruptly away. +The wolf-man stood erect again, and the dreamer heard it addressing +the light. The words were gentle, in contrast with the manner in which +it had spoken to him, and the softness of its tones held him +fascinated. + +"He's better, eh? Coming round," he said. And somehow the dreamer +thought that he laughed, and the invisible coyotes laughed with him. + +A brief silence followed, which was ultimately broken by another +voice. It was a voice from out of the light, and its tones were a gasp +of astonishment and alarm. + +"What are you doing here, father?" the voice asked. There was a +strange familiarity in the tones, and the dreamer struggled for +recollection; but before it came to him the voice went on with a wild +exclamation of horror. "Father! The bandage!" + +The dreamer wondered; and something drew his attention to the +wolf-man. He saw that the creature was eyeing the light with ferocious +purpose in its expression. It was all so real that he felt a wild +thrill of excitement as he watched for what was to happen. But the +voice out of the light again spoke, and he found himself listening. + +"Go!" it said in a tone of command, and thrilling with horror and +indignation. "Go! or--no, dare to lay a hand on me, and I'll dash the +lamp in your face! Go now! or I will summon help. It is at hand, +below. And armed help." + +There was a pause. The wolf-man stared at the light with villainous +eyes, but the contemplated attack was not forthcoming. The creature +muttered something which the dreamer lost. Then it moved away; not as +it had come, but groping its way blindly. A moment later the light +went out too, the cries of the coyotes were hushed, and the moon shone +down on the scene as before. And the dreamer, still feeling himself +imprisoned, watched the great yellow globe until it disappeared below +the horizon. Then, as the darkness closed over him, he seemed to +sleep, for the scene died out and recollection faded away. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE RENUNCIATION + + +The early morning sun was streaming in through the window of the sick +man's room when Tresler at last awoke to consciousness. And, curiously +enough, more than half an hour passed before Diane became aware of the +change in her patient. + +And yet she was wide awake too. Sleep had never been further from her +eyes, and her mind never more alert. But for the first time since +Tresler had been brought in wounded, his condition was no longer first +in her thoughts. Something occupied her at the moment of his waking to +the exclusion of all else. + +The man lay like a log. His eyes were staring up at the ceiling; he +made no movement, and though perfect consciousness had come to him +there was no interest with it, no inquiry. He accepted his position +like an infant waking from its healthy night-long slumber. Truth to +tell, his weakness held him prisoner, sapping all natural inclination +from mind and body. All his awakening brought him was a hazy, +indifferent recollection of a bad dream; that, and a background of the +events at Willow Bluff. + +If the man were suffering from a bad dream, the girl's expression +suggested the terrible reality of her thought. There was something +worse than horror in her eyes, in the puckering of her brows, in the +nervous compression of her lips. There was a blending of terror and +bewilderment in the brown depths that contemplated the wall before +her, and every now and then her pretty figure moved with a palpable +shudder. Her thoughts were reviewing feverishly scenes similar to +those in her patient's dream, only with her they were terrible +realities which she had witnessed only a few hours before in that very +room. At that moment she would have given her life to have been able +to call them dreams. Her lover's life had been attempted by the +inhuman process of reopening his wound. + +Should she ever forget the dreadful scene? Never! Not once, but time +and again her brain pictured each detail with a distinctness that was +in the nature of physical pain. From the moment she awoke, which had +been unaccountable to her, to find herself still propped against the +foot-rail of her bed, to the finish of the dastardly scene in the +sick-room was a living nightmare. She remembered the start with which +she had opened her eyes. As far as she knew she had heard nothing; +nothing had disturbed her. And yet she found herself sitting bolt +upright, awake, listening, intent. Then her rush to the lamp. Her +guilty feelings. The unconscious stealth of her tiptoeing to the +landing outside. Her horror at the discovery that her obstruction to +the staircase had been removed, and the chairs, as though to mock the +puerility of her scheming, set in orderly fashion, side by side +against the wall to make way for the midnight intruder. The closed +door of the sick-room, which yielded to her touch and revealed the +apparition of her father bending over her lover, and, with no +uncertainty of movement, removing the bandage from the wounded neck. +The terror of it all remained. So long as she lived she could never +forget one single detail of it. + +Even now, though hours had passed since these things had happened, the +nervousness with which she had finally approached the task of +readjusting the bandage still possessed her. And even the thankfulness +with which she discovered that the intended injury had been frustrated +was inadequate to bring her more than a passing satisfaction. She +shuddered, and nervously turned to her patient. + +Then it was that she became aware of his return to life. + +"Jack! Oh, thank God!" she murmured softly. + +And the sound of the well-loved voice roused the patient's interest in +the things about him. + +"Where am I?" he asked, in a weak whisper, turning his eyes to the +face so anxiously regarding him. + +But Diane's troubles had been lifted from her shoulders for the moment +and the nurse was uppermost once more. She signed to him to keep quiet +while she administered the doses Doc. Osler had prepared for him. Then +she answered his question. + +"You are in the room adjoining mine," she said quietly. + +Her woman's instinct warned her that no more reassuring information +could be given him. + +And the result justified it. He smiled faintly, and, in a few moments, +his eyes closed again and he slept. + +Then the girl set about her work in earnest. She hurried down-stairs +and communicated the good news to Joe. She went in search of Jake, to +have a man despatched for the doctor. For the time at least all her +troubles were forgotten in her thankfulness at her lover's return to +life. Somehow, as she passed out of the house, the very sunlight +seemed to rejoice with her; the old familiar buildings had something +friendly in their bald, unyielding aspect. Even the hideous corrals +looked less like the prisons they were, and the branding forges less +cruel. But greatest wonder of all was the attitude of Jake when she +put her request before him. The giant smiled upon her and granted it +without demur. And, in her gladness, the simple child smiled back her +heartfelt thanks. But her smile was short-lived, and her thanks were +premature. + +"I'm pretty nigh glad that feller's mendin'," Jake said. "Say, he's a +man, that feller." He turned his eyes away and avoided her smiling +gaze, and continued in a tone he tried to make regretful. "Guess I was +gettin' to feel mean about him. We haven't hit it exac'ly. I allow +it's mostly temper between us. Howsum, I guess it can't be helped +now--now he's goin'." + +"Going?" the girl inquired. But she knew he would be going, only she +wondered what Jake meant. + +"Sure," the foreman said, with a sudden return to his usual manner. +"Say, your father's up against him good and hot. I've seen Julian +Marbolt mad--madder'n hell; but I ain't never seen him jest as mad as +he is against your beau. When Tresler gits right he's got to +quit--quick. I've been wonderin' what's fixed your father like that. +Guess you ain't been crazy enough to tell him that Tresler's been +sparkin' you?" + +The girl's smile died out, and her pretty eyes assumed a look of stony +contempt as she answered with spirit. And Jake listened to her reply +with a smile on his bold face that in no wise concealed his desire to +hurt her. + +"Whatever happens Mr. Tresler doesn't leave our house until Doc. Osler +gives the word. Perhaps it will do you good to further understand that +the doctor will not give that word until I choose." + +"You're a silly wench!" Jake exclaimed angrily. Then he became +scornful. "I don't care that much for Tresler, now." Nevertheless he +gave a vicious snap with his fingers as he flicked them in the air. "I +wish him well enough. I have reason to. Let him stay as long as you +can keep him. Yes, go right ahead an' dose him, an' physic him; an' +when he's well he's goin', sure. An' when he's out of the way maybe +you'll see the advantage o' marryin' me. How's that, heh? There, +there," he went on tauntingly, as he saw the flushing face before him, +and the angry eyes, "don't get huffed, though I don't know but what +you're a daisy-lookin' wench when you're huffed. Get right ahead, +milady, an' fix the boy up. Guess it's all you'll ever do for him." + +Diane had fled before the last words came. She had to, or she would +have struck the man. She knew, only too well, how right he was about +Tresler; but this cruelty was unbearable, and she went back to the +sick-room utterly bereft of the last shadow of the happiness she had +left it with. + +The doctor came, and brought with him a measure of comfort. He told +her there was nothing to be considered now but the patient's weakness, +and the cleansing of the wound. In his abrupt manner he suggested a +diet, and ordered certain physic, and finally departed, telling her +that as her room adjoined her patient's there would be no further need +of sitting up at night. + +And so three weeks passed; three weeks of rapid convalescence for +Tresler, if they were spent very much otherwise by many of the +settlers in the district. Truth to tell, it was the stormiest time +that the country had ever known. The check the night-riders had +received at Willow Bluff had apparently sent them crazy for revenge, +which they proceeded to take in a wholly characteristic manner. +Hitherto their depredations had been comparatively far apart, +considerable intervals elapsing between them, but now four raids +occurred one after the other. The police were utterly defied; cattle +were driven off, and their defenders shot down without mercy. These +monsters worked their will whithersoever they chose. The sheriff +brought reinforcements up, but with no other effect than to rouse the +discontent of the ranchers at their utter failure. It seemed as though +the acts of these rustlers was a direct challenge to all authority. A +reign of terror set in, and settlers, who had been in the country for +years, declared their intention of getting out, and seeking a place +where, if they had to pay more for their land, they would at least +find protection for life and property. + +Such was the position when Tresler found himself allowed to move about +his room, and sit in a comfortable armchair in the delightful sunlight +at his open window. Nor was he kept in ignorance of the doings of the +raiders. Diane and he discussed them ardently. But she was careful to +keep him in ignorance of everything concerning herself and her father. +He knew nothing of the latter's objection to his presence in the +house, and he knew nothing of the blind man's threats, or that fearful +attack he had perpetrated in one of his fits of mad passion. + +These days, so delightful to them both, so brimful of happiness for +him, so fraught with such a blending of pain and sweetness for her, +had stolen along almost uncounted, unheeded. But like all such +overshadowed delights, their end came swiftly, ruthlessly. + +The signal was given at the midday meal. The rancher, who had never +mentioned Tresler's name since that memorable night, rose from the +table to retire to his room. At the door he paused and turned. + +"That man, Tresler," he said, in his smooth, even tones. "He's well +enough to go to the bunkhouse. See to it." + +And he left the girl crushed and helpless. It had come at last. She +knew that she could keep her lover no longer at her side. Even Doc. +Osler could not help her, and, besides, if she refused to obey, her +father would not have the slightest compunction in attending to the +matter in his own way. + +So it was with a heavy heart she took herself up-stairs for the +afternoon. This _tete-a-tete_ had become their custom every day; she +with her sewing, and the sick man luxuriating in a pipe. Tresler was +still bandaged, but it was only lightly, for the wound was almost +healed. + +The girl took up her position as usual, and Tresler moved his chair +over beside the little table she laid her work on, and sat facing her. +He loved to gaze upon the sad little face. He loved to say things to +her that would rouse it from its serious caste, and show him the +shadows dispelled, and the pretty smile wreathing itself in their +stead. And he had found it so easy too. The simplicity, the honesty, +the single-mindedness of this prairie flower made her more than +susceptible to girlish happiness, even amidst her troublous +surroundings. But he knew that these moments were all too passing, +that to make them enduring he must somehow contrive to get her away +from that world of brutality to a place where she could bask, +surrounded by love and the sunshine of a happy home. And during the +days of his convalescence he planned and plotted for the consummation +of his hopes. + +But he found her more difficult to-day. The eyes were a shade more +sad, and the smile would not come to banish the shadows. The sweet +mouth, too, always drooping slightly at the corners, seemed to droop +more than usual to-day. He tried, in vain, every topic that he thought +would interest her, but at last himself began to experience the +depression that seemed to weigh so desperately on her. And strangely +enough this dispiriting influence conjured up in his mind a morbid +memory, that until then had utterly escaped him. It was the dream he +had the night before his awakening. And almost unconsciously he spoke +of it. + +"You remember the day I woke to find myself here, Danny?" he said. "It +just occurs to me now that I wasn't unconscious all the time before. I +distinctly remember dreaming. Perhaps I was only asleep." + +The girl shook her head. + +"You were more than asleep," she said portentously. + +"Anyhow, I distinctly remember a dream I had. I should say it was +'nightmare.' It was about your father. He'd got me by the throat, +and--what's the matter?" + +Diane started, and, to Tresler's alarm, looked like fainting; but she +recovered at once. + +"Nothing," she said, "only--only I can't bear to think of that time, +and then--then--father strangling you! Don't think of your dream. +Let's talk of something else." + +Tresler's alarm abated at once; he laughed softly and leant forward +and kissed her. + +"Our future--our little home. Eh, dearest?" he suggested tenderly. + +She returned his embrace and made a pitiful attempt to smile back into +the eyes which looked so eagerly into hers. And now, for the first +time, her lover began to understand that there really was something +amiss with her. It was that look, so wistful, so appealing, that +roused his apprehension. He pressed her to tell him her trouble, +until, for sheer misery, she could keep it from him no longer. + +"It's nothing," she faltered, with trembling lips. + +Watching her face with a lover's jealousy he kept silence, for he knew +that her first words were only her woman's preliminary to something +she considered serious. + +"Jack," she said presently, settling all her attention upon her work, +"you've never asked me anything about myself. Isn't that unusual? +Perhaps you are not interested, or perhaps"--her head bent lower over +her work--"you, with your generous heart, are ready to take me on +trust. However," she went on, before he could interrupt her, "I intend +to tell you what you refuse to ask. No," as he leant forward and +kissed her again, "now sit up and light your pipe. There are to be no +interruptions like that." + +She smiled wistfully and gently pushed him back into his chair. + +"Now," she began, as he settled himself to listen, "I must go back +such a long, long way. Before I was born. Father was a sea captain +then. First the captain of a whaler, afterward he bought a ship of his +own and traded round the East Indies. He often used to talk of those +days, not because he had any desire to tell me of them, but it seemed +to relieve him when he was in a bad temper. I don't know what his +trade was, but I think it was of an exciting nature. He often spoke of +the risks, which, he said, were amply compensated by the money he +made." Tresler smiled gravely. "And father must have made a lot of +money at that time, for he married mother, bought himself a fine house +and lands just outside Kingston, in Jamaica, and, I believe, he kept a +whole army of black servants. Yes, and he has told me, not once, but +a hundred times, that he dates all his misfortunes from the day he +married my mother, which always seems unfair to her anyway. Somehow I +can never think of father as ever having been a kind man, and I've no +doubt that poor mother had anything but an easy time of it with him. +However, it is not for me to criticize." She paused, but went on +almost immediately. "Let me see, it was directly after the honeymoon +that he went away on his last trading trip. He was to call at Java. +Jake was his mate, you know, and they were expecting to return in six +months' time with a rich harvest of what he calls 'Black Ivory.' I +think it was some native manufacture, because he had to call at the +native villages. He told me so. But the trip was abandoned after three +weeks at sea. Father was stricken down with yellow fever. And from +that day to this he has never seen the light of day." + +The girl pushed her work aside and went on drearily. + +"When he recovered from the fever he was brought home, as he said +himself, 'a blind hulk.' Mother nursed him back to health and +strength, but she could not restore his sight. I am telling you these +things just as I have gleaned them from him at such moments as he +chose to be communicative. I imagine, too, from the little things he +sometimes let fall when he was angry, that all this time he lived in a +state of impotent fury against all the world, against God, but +particularly against the one person to whom he should have been most +grateful--mother. All his friends deserted him in consequence of his +bitter temper--all, that is, except Jake. At last in desperation, he +conceived the idea of going to Europe. At first mother was going with +him, but though he was well able to afford the additional expense he +begrudged it, and, changing his mind, decided to go alone. He sold his +ship, settled his affairs, and went off, and for three years he +traveled round Europe, visiting every eye-doctor of note in all the +big capitals. But it was all no good, and he returned even more soured +than he went away. It was during his absence that I was born." + +Again Diane paused. This time it was some moments before she +proceeded. + +"To add to his troubles," she at last resumed, in a low tone, "mother +was seriously ill when he got back, and, the day of his return, died +in his presence. After that, whatever his disposition was before, it +seems to have become a thousand times worse. And when he is angry now +he takes a painful delight in discussing the hatred and abhorrence all +the people of Kingston held him in, and the hatred and abhorrence he +returns to mankind in general. By his own accounts he must have been +terrible. However, this has nothing to do with our history. +Personally, I remember nothing but this ranch, but I understand that +he tried to resume his old trade in the Indies. For some reason this +failed him; trouble occurred, and he gave it up for good, and came out +to this country and settled here. Again, to quote his words, 'away +from men and things that drove him distracted.' That," she finished +up, "is a brief sketch of our history." + +"And just such a story as I should imagine your father had behind him. +A most unhappy one," Tresler observed quietly. But he was marveling at +the innocence of this child who failed to realize the meaning of +"black ivory." + +For a little while there was a silence between them, and both sat +staring out of the window. At last Diane turned, and when she spoke +again there was an ominous quivering of the lips. + +"Jack," she said, "I have not told you this without a purpose." + +"No, I gathered that, dear," he returned. "And this profound purpose?" +he questioned, smiling. + +Her answer was a long time in coming. What she had to do was so hard. + +"Father doesn't like you," she said at last in desperation. + +Tresler put his pipe aside. + +"It doesn't seem to me he likes anybody very much, unless it's Jake. +And I wouldn't bet a pile on the affection between them." + +"He likes Jake better than anybody else. At least he trusts him." + +"Which is a fair equivalent in his case. But what makes you think he +dislikes me more than most people?" + +"You remember that night in the kitchen, when you asked me to----" + +"Marry? Yes. Could I ever forget it?" + +Tresler had taken possession of one of the small hands lying in the +girl's lap, but she gently withdrew it. + +"I was weeping, and--and you saw the bruises on my arms. Father +disapproved of my talking to you----" + +"Ah! I understand." And he added, under his breath, "The brute!" + +"He says I must give you up." + +Tresler was looking straight before him at the window. Now he turned +slowly and faced her. His expression conveyed nothing. + +"And you?" + +"Oh, it is so hard!" Diane burst out, in distress. "And you make it +harder. Yes," she went on miserably, "I have to give you up. I must +not marry you--dare not----" + +"Dare not?" + +The question came without the movement of a muscle. + +"Yes, he says so. Oh, don't you see? He is blind, and I--I am his +only--oh, what am I saying?" + +Tresler shook his head. + +"I'm afraid you are saying a lot of--nonsense, little woman. And what +is more, it is a lot of nonsense I am not going to take seriously. Do +I understand that you are going to throw me over simply because he +tells you to?" + +"Not only because of that." + +"Who told him about us?" + +"I don't know." + +"Never mind. Perhaps I can guess. You have grown tired of me already?" + +"You know I haven't, Jack." + +Diane put out a hand and gently laid it on one of his. But his +remained unresponsive. This sudden awakening from his dream of love +had more than startled him. It had left him feeling resentful against +somebody or something; at present he was not sure who or what. But he +meant to have it out, cost what it might. + +"That's all right, then," he said. "Now, tell me this other reason." +Suddenly he leant forward and looked down into her eyes. His hands, +now thin and delicate, held hers tightly in a passionate clasp, and +his face was alight with the truth and sincerity of his love. +"Remember," he said, "this is no child's play, Danny. I am not the man +to give you up easily. I am weak, I know; but I've still got a fight +in me, and so long as I am assured of your love, I swear nothing shall +part us. I love you as I have never loved anybody in my life--and I +just want only you. Now tell me this other reason, dear." + +But Diane still hesitated. Her evident distress wrung her lover's +heart. He realized now that there was something very serious behind it +all. He had never beheld anything so pitiful as the look with which +she turned toward him, and further tried to put him off. + +"Father says you are to leave this house to-day. Afterward you will be +turned off the ranch. It is only through the sheriff backing the +doctor's orders that you were not turned out of here before." + +Tresler made no response for a moment. Then he burst out into a hard, +mirthless laugh. + +"So!" he exclaimed, his laugh dying abruptly. "Listen to me. Your +father can turn me out of this house--though I'll save him that +trouble--but he can't turn me off this ranch. My residence here is +bought and paid for for three years. The agreement is signed and +sealed. No, no, let him try another bluff." Then his manner changed to +one of gentle persuasion. "But you have not come to the real reason, +little one. Out with it. It is a bitter plum, I can tell. Something +which makes you dread not only its consequences, but--something else. +Tell it me, Danny. Whatever it is you may be sure of me. My love for +you is unalterable. Believe me, nothing shall come between us." + +His voice was infinitely tender, and its effect on Diane was to set +two great tears rolling down her cheeks as she listened. He had driven +her to a corner, and there was no escape. But even so she made one +more effort to avoid her shameful disclosure. + +"Will--will you not take me at my word, Jack?" she asked imploringly. + +"Not in this, dearest," he replied. + +He spoke inexorably, but with such a world of love in his voice that +the long-pent tears came with a rush. He let her weep. He felt it +would do her good. And, after a while, when her sobs had ceased, he +urged her again. + +"Tell me," he whispered. + +"I----" + +The man waited with wonderful patience. + +"Oh, don't--don't make me!" she cried. + +"Yes, I must." + +And at last her answer came in the faintest of whispers. + +"I--I--father is--is only my legal father. He was away three years. I +was born three days before he returned." + +"Well, well." Tresler sat quite still for a moment while the simple +girl sat cowering under the weight of her mother's shame. Then he +suddenly reached out and caught her in his arms. "Why, Danny," he +cried, pressing her to him, "I never felt so happy over anything in my +life as the fact that Julian Marbolt is not your father." + +"But the shame of it!" cried the girl, imagining that her lover had +not fully understood. + +"Shame? Shame?" he cried, holding her still tighter in his arms. +"Never let me hear that word on your lips again. You are the truest, +sweetest, simplest child in the world. You are mine, Danny. My very +own. And I tell you right here that I've won you and will hold you to +my last dying day." + +Now she was kneeling beside him with her face pillowed on his breast, +sobbing in the joy of her relief and happiness. And Tresler kissed her +softly, pressing his cheek many times against the silky curls that +wreathed about her head. Then, after a while, he sat looking out of +the window with a hard, unyielding stare. Weak as he was, he was ready +to do battle with all his might for this child nestling so trustfully +in his arms. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +HOT UPON THE TRAIL + + +The most welcome thing that had happened to the men on the ranch for +many a long day was Tresler's return to the bunkhouse. He was hailed +with acclamation. Though he had found it hard to part with Diane under +the doubtful circumstances, there was some compensation, certainly +gratification, in the whole-hearted welcome of his rough comrades. It +was not the effusion they displayed, but the deliberateness of their +reception of him, that indexed their true feelings. Teddy Jinks +refused to serve out the supper hash until Tresler had all he +required. Lew Cawley washed out a plate for him, as a special favor; +and Raw Harris, pessimist as he was, and who had a way of displaying +the fact in all the little every-day matters of life, cleaned and +sharpened a knife for him by prodding it up to the hilt in the +hard-beaten earth, and cleaned the prongs of a fork with the edge of +his buckskin shirt. But he could not thus outrage his principles +without excusing himself, which he did, to the effect that he guessed +"invalid fellers need onusual feedin'." Jacob Smith, whose habit it +was to take his evening meals seated at the foot of the upright log +which served as part of the door casing, and which contact with his +broad, buckskin-covered shoulders had polished till it shone +resplendently, renounced his coveted position in the invalid's favor. +Tresler was a guest of honor, for whom, on this one occasion at least, +nothing was too good. And in this position Arizona supported him, +cursing the flies that fell into his friend's pannikin of tea, and +hooking them out with the point of his hash-besmeared knife as he sat +on his log beside him. Joe, too, had come down specially to share the +meal, but he, being a member of the household, was very small fry at +the bunkhouse. + +And Tresler delighted in the kindness thus showered on him. The +freedom from the sick-room did him good; the air was good to breathe, +the plain, wholesome food was good; but most of all those bronzed, +tough faces around him seemed to put new life and vigor into his +enfeebled frame. He realized that it was high time that he was at work +again. + +And there was lots for him to hear. Every man among them had something +to add to the general hash of events, and in their usual way proceeded +to ladle it out without regard for audience, contradicting, +interrupting, cursing, until the unfortunate man who was the butt of +their remarks found himself almost overpowered by the babel. + +At length Arizona drew them up with one of his sudden "yanks." + +"Say," he cried, his eyes glaring fiercely and embracing the whole +party with a great, comprehensive roll, "you fellers is like a crowd +o' coyotes around a bone. I 'lows Tresler ain't an a'mighty deal +better'n a bone about now, but his lugs ain't deef. Y're jest a +gorl-darned lot o' oneddicated hoboes." + +Which attack had the effect of reducing the pandemonium, but in no way +suppressing the ardent spirits of the party. It acted as a challenge, +which Jacob Smith promptly took up. + +"Say, boys," he cried, "we're goin' to git eddication from Arizona!" + +His remark was followed by a derisive roar of laughter at Arizona's +expense. But the moment it had subsided the derided one shot out his +retort. + +"Guess ther's things and critturs down our country we don't never +figger to eddicate--them's hogs." + +"Fer the reason which they knows more'n you," returned Jacob, in no +way worried by the personality. + +The boys considered the point achieved by Jacob, and another laugh at +Arizona's expense went up. He had stumped the cowpuncher, who now +entered the fight with wonderfully good-natured zest. + +"Say," he observed, "I ain't had a heap to do wi' your folks, Jacob, +but I'm guessin' ef you're talkin' Gospel, things don't run in your +fam'ly." + +"Call him a hog right out, Arizona," put in Raw, lazily. + +"I ain't callin' Jacob no hog; et 'ud be a nasty trick--on the hog," +observed the ready-tongued man. + +"Hallo, Jacob!" cried Lew, as the laugh turned on the other man this +time. + +But Arizona resented the interference, and rounded on him promptly. + +"Say, you passon feller, I ain't heerd tell as it's the ways o' your +country to butt in an' boost folk on to a scrap. It's gener'ly sed +you're mostly ready to do the scrappin'." + +"Which means?" Lew grinned in his large way. + +"Wal, it mostly means--let's hear from you fust hand." + +"It's not much use hearing from me on the subject of hogs. They aren't +great on 'em in my country. Besides, you seem quite at home with 'em." + +Arizona sprang to his feet, and, walking over to the hulking form of +the parson's son, held his hand out. + +"Shake," he said, with a grin that drew his parchment-like skin into +fierce wrinkles; "we live in the same shack." + +Lew laughed with the rest, and when it died down observed-- + +"Look here, Arizona, when you get talking 'hog' you stand alone. The +whole Northwest bows to you on that subject. Now go and sit down like +a peaceable citizen, and remember that a man who is such a master in +the craft of hog-raising, who has lived with 'em, bred 'em, fed on +'em, and whose mental vision is bounded by 'em, has no right to down +inoffensive, untutored souls like ourselves. It isn't generous." + +Arizona stood. He looked at the man; then he glanced at each face +around him and noted the smiles. One hand went up to his long, black +hair and he scratched his head, while his wild eyes settled themselves +on Tresler's broadly grinning features. Suddenly he walked back to his +seat, took up his dish of hash and continued his supper, making a +final remark as he ate. + +"Langwidge? Gee! I pass." + +And during the rest of the meal "hog" found no place. They discussed +the topic of the day threadbare. The night-riders filled their +thoughts to the exclusion of all else, and Tresler learned the details +of their recent exploits, and the opinion of each man on the outrages. +Even Teddy Jinks, youthful and only "slushy" as he was, was listened +to, so absorbed were these men in their cattle world. + +"It's my belief," that reedy youth said, with profound finality, +"they're working fer a bust up. I'd gamble one o' Arizona's hogs to a +junk o' sow-belly ther' ain't no more of them rustlers around come the +fall. Things is hot, an' they're goin' to hit the trail, takin' all +they ken get right now." + +It was good to be listening to the rough talk of these fellows again. +So good that Tresler prolonged this, his first meal with them after +such a long absence, to the last possible minute. Then he reluctantly +filled his pipe, put away his plate and pannikin, and strolled over to +the barn in company with Arizona. He went to inspect his mare; he was +fond and justly proud of her. With all her vagaries of temper she was +a wonderful beast. Arizona had told him how she had brought both of +them into the ranch from Willow Bluff on that memorable night. + +"Guess it's a real pity that sheriff feller hadn't got her when he hit +Red Mask's trail," observed Arizona, while he watched Tresler gently +pass his hands over each leg in turn. "Clean, eh?" he asked presently. + +"Yes. The limbs of a race-horse. Has she been ridden while I've been +sick?" + +"Nope; she's jest stood guzzlin' oats." + +"I shall have a time when I get into the saddle again." + +They moved out and stood at the door in full view of the house. The +evening was drawing in. The sun was on the horizon, and the purple +night shades were rising out over the eastern sky. + +"Arizona," Tresler said a little later, "I've got an unpleasant task +before me. I've just seen Marbolt pass the window of his den. I want a +few words with him. I think I'll go now." + +"'Bout the leddy?" inquired the cowpuncher. + +"You've struck it." + +"Wal, git right along. I'd sooner it wus you than me, I guess. Howsum, +I'll set right hyar. Mebbe I'll be handy ef you're wantin' me." + +Tresler laughed. "Oh, it's all right," he said. "I'm not dealing with +Jake." + +"Nope," replied the other, settling himself on a saddle-tree. Then, +after a thoughtful pause, "which is regret'ble." + +Tresler walked away in the direction of the house. He was weak, and +did the journey slowly. Nor did he feel comfortable. However, he was +doing what he knew to be right, and, as he ruefully reminded himself, +it was seldom pleasant to do one's duty. His object was simply a +matter of form, but one which omitted would give Marbolt reason for +saying things. Besides, in justice to Danny and himself he must ask +her father's consent to their engagement. And as he thought of the +uselessness of it he laughed bitterly to himself. Did not the rancher +know? And had he not fully explained his views on the matter? + +Arizona watched Tresler wabbling unsteadily toward the house and +applied many mental epithets of an uncomplimentary nature on his +"foolheadedness." Then he was joined by Joe, who had also observed +Tresler's visit. + +The little man waved a hand in the direction of the retreating figure. + +"Wher's he goin'?" he asked. + +"Guess it's 'bout the leddy," replied Arizona, shortly. + +"An' he wus boosted out 'cause of her," the other said significantly. +"Kind o' minds you of one o' them terriers." + +"Yup. Or a cow wi' a ca'f." + +"On'y he don't make no fuss. Guess it's a terrier." + +And Joe accompanied his final decision with an emphatic nod. + +Meanwhile the object of their remarks had made his way to the house +and stood before the blind arbiter of his fate in the latter's little +office. The rancher was sitting at his table with his face directed +toward the window, and his red eyes staring at the glowing sunset. And +so he remained, in spite of Tresler's blunt announcement of himself. + +"It is necessary for me to see you, Mr. Marbolt," he said. + +And he stood waiting for his answer. It came, after some moments, in +a tone that offered no encouragement, but was more civil than he +expected. + +"Since you say so, I suppose it is." + +Quite indifferent and certainly undaunted, Tresler proceeded-- + +"You have already been informed how matters stand between your +daughter and myself." + +"Yes." + +"I am here, then, to formally ask your consent to our engagement." + +The red eyes moved from their contemplation of the sunset, and their +dead, leech-like stare fixed itself upon the undisturbed face of the +would-be son-in-law. + +"Tresler," the man said, in a manner that left little to the +imagination, "I have only one answer for you. You have become +offensive to me on this ranch, and I shall be glad if you will remove +yourself as quickly as possible. I shall refund you the money you have +paid, and your agreement can be torn up." + +"Then you will not consider my proposal?" + +"I have already answered you." + +Tresler looked hard at the face before him. Mask-like as it was, it +yet conveyed something of the fierce temper behind it. He was glad he +saw something of it, for he felt more justified in the heat of his own +feelings. The man's words were a studied insult, and he was not one to +submit to insults from anybody. + +"I emphatically refuse, then, to remove my offensive person," he +replied, with a great assumption of calmness. "Furthermore, I will not +entertain the return of my premium. I am here for three years' +instruction, already paid for. That instruction I demand. You will +understand it is not in your power to have my offensive person removed +either legally or forcibly. The latter especially, since it would cost +you far more than you would find it pleasant to pay." + +He expected to witness one of those outbursts of fury such as the +blind man had recently displayed toward Jake in his presence. But +nothing of the kind happened. His manner remained the same. + +"I am sorry," he said, with something almost like a smile. "You drive +me to an alternative, which, if less convenient, is perhaps, on the +whole, more satisfactory. My daughter will have to go. I was prepared +for this, and have already made arrangements for her to visit certain +friends this day fortnight, for an indefinite period. You quite +understand, Tresler, you will not see her again. She will remain away +until you leave here. Of course, in the meantime, should you take it +into your head to follow her, you are clear-headed enough to see that +your agreement with me would be broken. Then she would return at once, +and the question of force to keep you apart would be entirely in my +hands. Further, I must tell you that while she is away she will be +living in an obscure settlement many miles from here, where all +letters addressed to her will be opened before she receives them." + +The blind man turned away, indicating that the interview was ended, +but Tresler stood his ground, though he fully realized how thoroughly +this man had outwitted him. + +"At least she will be happier away from here," he said significantly. + +"I don't know," retorted the other, with diabolical meaning. + +Tresler's exasperation could no longer be restrained. "Your conduct is +inhuman to thus persecute a helpless girl, your daughter." + +"Ah, my daughter. Yes?" + +But the other gave no heed to the sneer. "You have no right to stand +between us," he went on angrily. "You have no reasonable grounds. I +tell you straight I will not submit. When your daughter is of age I +will take her from this home, which is no home to her, from you who +have never been a father to her." + +"True," assented the other, with an aggravating calmness. + +"You will have no power to interfere then. The law----" + +"Enough of this nonsense," the rancher interrupted, with his first +sign of impatience. "You'll never marry Diane while I live. Take it +from me. Now--get out!" + +And somehow, in spite of himself, Tresler found himself outside the +house and moving in the direction of the bunkhouse at the most rapid +pace his weakness permitted. But before he reached his destination +Jake intercepted him, and he had little doubt in his mind that the man +had seen him go to the house and had waited for his return. + +"Wal?" he said, drawling out his inquiry, as though the contemplation +of the answer he would receive gave him more than ordinary +satisfaction. "Guess blind hulks is a pretty hard man to deal with, +eh? You're goin' to quit us?" + +Tresler was in no mood for this man's sneers. "No," he said. "On the +contrary, I stay till my time's out." + +Jake could not conceal his surprise and chagrin. "You ain't quittin'?" + +"No." Tresler really enjoyed his discomfiture. + +"An' you're goin'----" + +"No." A thought suddenly occurred to him. He could hand something on +to this man. "Miss Marbolt is going to be sent away until such time as +I leave this ranch. Nearly three years, Jake," he finished up +maliciously. + +Jake stood thoughtfully contemplating the other's shrunken figure. He +displayed no feeling, but Tresler knew he had hit him hard. + +"An' she's goin', when?" he asked at last. + +"This day fortnight." + +"Ah. This day fortnight." + +After that Jake eyed his rival as though weighing him up in his mind +along with other things; then he said quietly-- + +"Guess he'd best have sent her right now." And, with this enigmatical +remark, he abruptly went back to his shack. + +A week saw Tresler in the saddle again. His recuperative powers were +wonderful. And his strength returned in a manner which filled his +comrades with astonishment. Fresh air and healthy work served as far +better tonics than anything the horse-doctor had given him. + +And the week, at least to Tresler, was full of portent. True, the +rustlers had been quiet, but the effect of their recent doings was +very apparent. The sheriff was now in constant communication with the +ranch. Fyles visited Julian Marbolt frequently, holding long +consultations with him; and a significant fact was that his men made +the place a calling station. He realized that the long arm of the law +was seriously at work, and he wondered in what direction the real +object lay, for he quite understood that these open movements, in all +probability, cloaked the real suspicions. Both he and Joe were of +opinion that the sheriff was acting on some secret information, and +they puzzled their heads to fathom the depths of the wily officer's +motives. + +Then happened something that Tresler had been expecting for some time. +He had not seen Fyles to speak to since the Willow Bluff incident, and +this had caused him some wonder. Therefore, one day while out on a +distant pasture, rounding up a small bunch of yearlings, he was in no +way surprised to see the farmer-like figure of the sheriff appear over +the brow of a rising ground, and canter his raw-boned horse down +toward him. + +And that meeting was in the nature of an eye-opener to Tresler. He +learned something of the machinery that was at work; of the system of +espionage that was going on over the whole district, and the subtle +means of its employment. He learned, amongst other things, something +of what Jake was doing. How he was in constant touch with a number of +half-breeds of the most disreputable type, and that his doings were of +the most underground nature. He also learned that his own personal +efforts in conveying warning before Willow Bluff were more than +appreciated, and, finally, that Fyles wanted him to further act in +concert with him. + +Acceding to the officer's request he was then informed of certain +other things for his future guidance. And when the man had gone, +disappearing again over the rising ground, in the same ghostly fashion +that he had appeared, he looked after him, and, in reviewing all he +had heard, marveled how little he had been told, but what a lot had +been suggested, and how devilish smart that farmer-like man, in spite +of his recent failures, really was. + +And during those days Tresler heard very little from Diane; which +little came from Joe Nelson. Now and again she sent him a +grief-stricken note alluding to her departure. She told him, although +Joe had done so already, that her father had brought Anton into the +house for the express purpose of preventing any communication with +him, Tresler, and to generally keep sentry over her. She told him much +that made his heart bleed for her, and made him spend hours at night +writing pages of cheering messages to her. There was no help for it. +He was powerless to do more than try to console her, and he frequently +found himself doubting if the course he had selected was the right +one; if he were not aggravating her position by remaining on the +ranch. His reason told him that it was surely best. If she had to go +away, she would, at least, be free of Jake, and, no matter what +condition the people to whom she was to be sent, no worse associations +than the combination of the blind man and his mate could possibly be +found for her anywhere. + +It was a poor sort of consolation with which he bolstered himself, and +he spent many miserable hours during those last few days. Once he had +said to Joe, "If I could only see her for a few minutes it might be +some measure of comfort to us both." But Joe had shaken his gray head. +"It ain't no use," he said. "You can't take no chances foolin' wi' +Anton around. 'Sides, things might be wuss," he finished up, with a +considerable emphasis. + +And so Tresler had to be content; ill at ease, chafing, but quite +powerless. In truth the rancher had outwitted him with a vengeance; +moreover, what he had said he soon showed that he meant, for Joe +brought him the news, two days before the date fixed for departure, +that Diane was making her preparations, and had even begun to pack up. + +And all this time Jake was very cheerful. The men on the ranch never +remembered an easier time than the foreman was giving them now. He +interfered very little with the work, and, except at the morning +muster, they hardly saw anything of him. Tresler he never came near. +He seemed to have forgotten that he had ever discussed Anton with him. +It may have been that that discussion had only been inspired on the +impulse of the moment, or it may have been--and Tresler thought this +far more likely--he had deeper plans. However, the man, in face of +Diane's departure, was unusually cheerful, and the wise old Joe +quickly observed the fact. + +For Joe to observe anything of interest was the cue for him to inquire +further, and thus he set himself to watch Jake. And his watching +quickly resulted in Tresler's attention being called to Jake's +movements at night. Joe found that night after night Jake left the +ranch, always on foot, but he left it for hours at a time. Twice +during the last week he did not return until daylight. All this was +more than interesting, but nothing developed to satisfy their +curiosity until the last day of Diane's stay on the ranch. Then Jake +visited her, and, taking her out of the kitchen, had a long +confabulation with her in the open. Joe watched them, but, much to his +disgust, had no means of learning the man's object. However, there was +only one thing for him to do, and he did it without delay: he hurried +down to convey his news to Tresler, who was having supper at the +bunkhouse. + +Taking him on one side he imparted his tidings hurriedly. And in +conclusion spoke with evident alarm. + +"Ther's suthin' doin'," he said, in, for him, quite a condition of +excitement. "I can't locate it nohow. But Jake, he's that queer. See, +he's jest gone right into his shack. Ther's suthin' doin', sure." + +"And didn't you ask her what it was all about?" asked Tresler, +catching something of the other's manner. + +"Wal, no. That is, I guess I mentioned it like, but Miss Dianny wus +that flustrated an' kind o' angry she jest went right up to her room, +an' I thought best to git around hyar." + +Tresler was thinking hard; and while he thought he stood watching the +door where they had both seen Jake disappear. It occurred to him to go +and seek Diane for himself. Poor girl, she would surely tell him if +there were anything wrong. After all, he had the right to know. Then +he thought of Anton. + +"Was Anton----?" + +He had turned to Joe, but his remark was cut short. Jake's door +suddenly opened and the foreman came hurriedly out. Joe caught his +companion by the arm, and they both looked after the giant as he +strode away toward the barn. And they simultaneously became aware of +something unsteady in his gait. Joe was the first to draw attention to +it. + +"Say, he's bin drinkin'," he whispered, in an awed manner. + +Tresler nodded. This was something quite new. Jake, with all his +faults, was not usually given to drink. On the contrary, he was a +particularly sober man. + +Tresler swiftly made up his mind. "I'm going to see what's up, Joe," +he said. "Do you see? He's making for Marbolt's stable." + +It was almost dusk. The men had settled down to their evening's +occupations. Tresler and Joe were standing alone in the shadow of the +bunkhouse wall. The lamp was lit within the building, and the glow +from the window, which was quite near them, darkened the prospect +still further. However, Tresler still could see the foreman, an +indistinct shadow in the growing darkness. + +Leaving his companion without further remark he hurried after the +disappearing man and took up his position near the barn, whence he +could both see and hear what might be going forward. + +Jake reached the door of the stable and knocked on it in a forceful +and peremptory manner. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +BY THE LIGHT OF THE LAMP + + +Impelled by curiosity and nervous anticipation Tresler did not long +remain in the shelter of the barn. It was too dark to see distinctly +all that way off, so he closed up on the object of his watch. He +intended to miss nothing of what was happening, so he crept out into +the open, quite careless of the chances of being discovered at his +undignified occupation. + +And all the time he was a prey to unpleasant foreboding; that +unaccountable foreboding so truly prophetic, which refuses to be +shaken off. He knew that disaster was in the air as surely as if it +had all happened, and there was nothing left for him but to gaze +impotently upon the ruin. He had a certain amount of reason for his +fears, of course, but that reason was largely speculative, and, had he +been asked to state definitely what he anticipated, on whom disaster +was to fall, he could not have answered with any real conviction. +Something prompted him that Jake was to be the central figure, the +prime mover. But beyond that his ideas were vague. The man's very +summons at the door was a positive aggravation, and suggested +possibilities. + +An answer came with the abrupt opening of the stable door, which +revealed the lithe figure of the dusky half-breed, framed in a +setting of dingy yellow light from the lantern within. He could see +the insolent, upward stare of the man's eyes as he looked up into the +great man's face; nor at that moment could he help thinking of all he +had heard of "Tough" McCulloch. And the recollection brought him a +further feeling of uneasiness for the man who had thus come to beard +him in his own den. + +But even while these thoughts passed swiftly through his brain the +bullying, hectoring tones of Jake's voice came to him. They were +unnecessarily loud, and there was a thickness in them which +corroborated the evidence of his uneven gait. Jake had certainly been +priming himself with spirit. + +"Where was you last night, Anton?" he heard him ask. + +"An' wher' should I be, Mr. Jake?" came the half-breed's sullen +retort. + +"That ain't no answer," the other cried, in a vicious tone. + +The half-breed shrugged with apparent indifference, only there was no +indifference in the resentful flash of his eyes. + +"I not answer to you," he said, in his broken way, throwing as much +insolence as he could into his words. + +Jake's fury needed no urging; the spirit had wound him up to the +proper pitch. + +"You black son-of-a----," he cried, "you shall answer to me. For two +pins I'd wring your blasted neck, only I'm savin' that fer the rope. +I'll tell you wher' you was last night. You wer' out. Out with the +horses. D'you hear? And you weren't at the Breed camp neither. I know +wher' you was." + +"Guess you shoot your mouth off," Anton said, with dangerous calmness. +"Bah! I tell you I stay right hyar. I not out. You mad! Voila!" + +Suddenly Jake's hand went up as though to strike the man, but the blow +did not fall. His arm dropped to his side again; for once caution +saved him. Tresler felt that had the blow fallen there might perhaps +have been a sudden and desperate end to the scene. As it was he +listened to Jake's final words, with every nerve throbbing. + +"You lie, you black son-of-a----; you lie!" + +And then he saw him swing round on his heel and stride away to the +rancher's house, as if he could no longer control himself and sought +safety in flight. + +For the moment the watcher was so interested in the half-breed that he +lost the significance of the foreman's going. Anton was still standing +in the doorway, and the expression of his face was plainly visible in +the lamplight. There was a saturnine grin about the lower part of the +features, but the black eyes were blazing with a deep fire of hatred. +He looked after the departing man until he reached the verandah, then +suddenly, as though an inspiration had moved him, he vanished at a run +within the stable. + +Now Tresler became aware of Jake's object. He had mounted the verandah +and was making for the door of the house. And this sight moved him to +immediate action. Without a second thought he set off at a run to +warn Diane of the visit. Why he wished to warn her he did not know. +Perhaps it was the result of premonition, for he knew quite well that +it was Jake's custom to wait on his chief at about this time in the +evening. + +He skirted the house well out of range of the light of its windows, +and came to the kitchen just in time to hear the blind man calling to +his daughter for a light. And when Diane returned from obeying the +order she found him waiting for her. Her first feeling was one of +apprehension, then love overcame her fears and she ran to him. + +"Jack!" she whispered softly. "You here?" + +He folded her in a bear-like embrace, and as she raised her face to +him to speak he stopped her with a rain of kisses. The joy of the +moment had driven the object of his coming from his head, and they +stood heart to heart, lost in their mutual happiness, until Jake's +voice, raised in bitter imprecation, reached them from the office. +Then Tresler abruptly put her from him. + +"I had forgotten, dear," he said, in a whisper. "No, don't close that +door." Diane had moved over to the door leading into the dining-room. +"Leave it open. It is on that account I am here." + +"On what account?" the girl asked, in some perplexity. + +"Jake. There's something up, and--hark!" + +They stood listening. The foreman's voice was raised again. But now +Marbolt's broke in, sharp, incisive. And the words were plainly +audible. + +"Keep your voice down," he said. "D'you want the girl to hear +everything? You were always a blunderer, Jake." + +"Blunderer be ----" But he nevertheless lowered his tone, for the +listeners could distinguish nothing more. + +"He's up to some devil's work," Tresler whispered, after making sure +they could hear no more. "Danny," he went on eagerly, "I must slip +into the hall and try and hear what's going on. I must be ready +to----Listen! He's cursing again. Wait here. Not a sound; not a word! +There's going to be trouble." + +And his assertion seemed to have reason enough, for the rancher's +sharp tones were now mingling with the harsher note of the other, and +both had raised their voices again. Tresler waited for nothing now. He +tiptoed to the door and stood listening. Then he crept silently out +into the hall and stole along toward the blind man's office. He paused +as he drew near the open door, and glanced round for some hiding-place +whence he could see within. The hall was unlit, and only the faintest +light reached it from the office. There was a long, heavy overcoat +hanging on the opposite wall, almost directly in front of the door, +and he made for it, crossing the hall in the darkest part, and sidling +along in the shadow until he reached it. Here he drew it in front of +him, so that he only elongated its outline and yet obtained a full +view of the room. + +Jake was not visible. And Tresler concluded that he was sitting in the +chair which he knew to be behind the door. But the blind man was +almost directly in front of him. He was seated beside the small +window table on which the lamp stood, a safety lamp, especially +reserved for his use on account of his blindness. His ruddy eyes were +staring in the direction in which Tresler believed Jake to be sitting, +and such was the effect of that intent stare that the watching man +drew well within his cover, as though he feared the sightless sockets +would penetrate his hiding-place. + +But even from this vantage ground he found his purpose thwarted. Jake +was talking, but his voice was so low that it only reached him in a +thick growl which blurred his words into a hazy murmur. Therefore he +fixed his attention on the man facing him, watching, and seeking +information from his expression and general attitude. + +And what he beheld riveted his attention. Whatever control the blind +man had over himself--and Tresler had reason to know what wonderful +control he had--his expression was quite unguarded now. There was a +devilish cruelty in every line in his hard, unyielding features. +His sanguinary eyes were burning with a curiously real live +light--probably the reflection of the lamp on the table--and his +habitually knit brows were scowling to an extent that the eyes beneath +them looked like sparks of living fire. And though he was lounging +comfortably back in his chair, without energy, without alertness, and +one arm was resting on the table at his side, and his outstretched +fingers were indolently drumming out a tattoo on the bare wood, his +breath was coming short and fast, in a manner that belied his +attitude. + +Had Tresler only seen behind the door he would have been startled, +even alarmed. The inflamed Jake was oblivious to everything but his +own purpose. His mind was set on the object of his talk, to the +exclusion of all else. Just then he had not the slightest fear of the +blind man. There was nothing of the submission about him now that he +had displayed once before in Tresler's presence. It was the spirit he +had imbibed that had fortified him for the time. It is probable that +Jake, at that moment, had no fear of either man or devil. + +And, though Tresler could not distinguish a word, his talk was +braggart, domineering, and there was a strong flavor of drink in its +composition. But even so, there was a relentless purpose in it, too. + +"Ther' ain't no option fer you, Marbolt," Jake was saying. "You've +never given me an option, and I'm not goin' to be such a blazing fool +as to give you one. God A'mighty, Marbolt, ther' never was a man +treated as I've been by you. We've been together fer donkey's years, I +guess. 'Way back in them old days, when we was mates, before you was +blind, before you was cranked against 'most everybody, when we +scrapped agin them black-backs in the Indies side by side, when we +quarreled an' made friends again, I liked you, Marbolt, an' I worked +honest by you. There wa'n't nothin' mean to you, then, 'cep' in +handin' out dollars. I hadn't no kick comin' those days. I worked fer +so much, an' I see I got it. I didn't ask no more, an' I guess I +didn't want. That's all right. Then you got blind an' you changed +round. That's where the rub come. I was no better than the rest to +you. You fergot everything that had gone. You fergot I was a square +dealin' man by you, an' since that time I've been dirt under your +feet. Pshaw! it ain't no use in talkin'; you know these things just as +well as I do. But you might have given me a show. You might have +treated me 'white.' It was to your interest. I'd have stayed by you. +I'd have done good by you. An' I'd have been real sorry when you died. +But I ain't no use fer that sort o' thing now. What I want I'm goin' +to have, an' you've got to give--see? It ain't a question of +'by-your-leave' now. I say right here I want your gal." + +The man paused. But Marbolt remained undisturbed. He still beat an +idle tattoo on the table, only his hand had drawn nearer to the lamp +and the steady rapping of his fingers was a shade louder, as though +more nervous force were unconsciously finding outlet in the movement. + +"So you want my girl," he said, his lips scarcely parting to let the +tone of his voice pass. + +"Ay," Jake said emphatically, "I want that gal as I took out o' the +water once. You remember. You said she'd fell overboard, after I'd +hauled her back on to the ship out o' reach o' the sharks. That's what +you said--after." + +He paused significantly. If he had expected any display from his +hearer he must have been disappointed. The other remained quite still +except for those moving fingers tapping their way nearer and nearer +the lamp. + +"Go on." + +"Wal, I've told you how I stand, an' I've told you how you stand," +Jake proceeded, with his voice ever so little raised. He felt that the +other was too easy. And, in his unimaginative way, he thought he had +spoken too gently. "An' I say again I want that gal fer my wife. Time +was when you would have been glad to be quit of her, 'bout the time +she fell overboard. Being ready to part then, why not now? I'm goin' +to get her,--an' what do I pay in return? You know. You'll go on +ranchin' in peace. I'll even stay your foreman if you so want. I'll +shut right down on the business we both know of, an' you won't have +nothin' to fear. It's a fair an' square deal." + +"A fair and square deal; most generous." + +Even Jake detected the sarcasm, and his anger rose at once. But he +gave no heed to those fingers which had now transferred their +attention to the brass body of the lamp. + +"I'm waitin' fer your answer," he said sharply. + +Tresler now heard his words for the first time. + +"Go slow, Jake, go slow," retorted the rancher. "I like to digest the +position thoroughly. You put it so well." + +The sarcasm had grown more fierce by reason of the restraint the +rancher was putting on himself. And this restraint was further evident +in the movement of the hand which had now settled itself upon the body +of the lamp, and clutched it nervously. + +Jake no longer kept check on himself. And his answer came in a roar. + +"You shall take my price, or----" + +"Keep calm, you blundering jackass!" the blind man rasped between his +clenched teeth. + +"No, you don't, Mr. blasted Marbolt!" cried Jake, springing to his +feet and moving out to the middle of the room threateningly. "No, you +don't!" he cried again; "I've had enough of that. God's curse on you +for a low swine! I'll talk no more; it's 'yes' or 'no.' Remember"--he +bent over toward the sitting man and pointed in his face with fierce +delight--"I am your master now, an' ef you don't do as I say, by +G----! but I'll make you whine for mercy." + +And Marbolt's answer came with a crash of brass and smashing of glass, +a leap of flame, then darkness, as he hurled the lamp to the floor and +extinguished it. It came in silence, but a silence ruffled by the +sound of sudden movement. It came, as was only to be expected from a +man like him, without warning, like the silent attack of a puma, and +with as deadly intent. + +Tresler could see nothing, but he knew that death was hovering over +that room for some one. Suddenly he heard the table dragged or pushed +across the floor, and Jake's voice, harsh with the effort of struggle, +reached him. + +"You would, would you? Right; it's you or me!" + +At that moment the onlooker was about to rush forward, for what +purpose he had but the vaguest idea. But even as he took the first +step he felt himself seized forcibly by the arm from behind. And +Diane's voice whispered in his ear. + +"Not you, Jack!" she said eagerly. "Leave it to me; I--I can save +him--Jake." + +"Jake?" + +"Yes." + +She was gone, and in an instant returned with the lighted kitchen +lamp, which she held aloft as she rushed into the room. + +Tresler was taken utterly by surprise. The girl's movements were so +sudden, so unexpected, and her words so strange. + +There she stood in the middle of the room with the light held above +her head like some statue. And all the signs of a deadly struggle were +about her. Jake was sheltered behind the window table, and stood +blinking in the sudden light, staring at her in blank astonishment. +But the chief figure of interest was the blind man. He was groping +about the opposite edge of the table, pitifully helpless, but snarling +in impotent and thwarted fury. His right hand was still grasping the +hilt of a vicious-looking, two-edged hunting-knife, whose point +Tresler saw was dripping blood. + +Suddenly he turned fiercely on the girl. For the moment he had been +held silent, confounded, but now his voice rang out in an access of +fury. + +"You jade!" he cried, and moved as though to attack her. + +Tresler was about to leap to her assistance, but at that instant the +man's attention was suddenly diverted. Jake saw his chance and made +for the door. With a bitter imprecation the blind man lunged at him as +he went, fell against the table, and stumbled almost to the ground. +Instantly the girl took advantage of his position and followed Jake +out, slamming the door behind her and swiftly turning the key as she +went. + +Diane had shown herself in a new light. Her presence of mind was +startling, and the whole thing was enacted so swiftly that Tresler +failed to grasp the full meaning of it all. Jake had not seen him. In +a blind rush he had made for the hall door and passed out. The only +thing that seemed real to Tresler was Diane's safety, and he caught +her by the arm to take her to the kitchen. But the girl's readiness +would permit of no such waste of time. + +"No," she whispered quickly. "Leave me and follow Jake. Joe is in the +kitchen and will protect me if need be. Quick!" she went on, stamping +her foot in her excitement. "Go! Look to him. There must be no murder +done here." + +And Tresler was forced, much against his will, to leave her. For the +moment Diane had soared to a height of alertness and ready action +which was irresistible. Without a word he went, passing out of the +front door. + +Jake had left the verandah, and, in the moonlight, Tresler could see +him moving down the hill in the direction of his shack. He followed +him swiftly. But he was too late. The whole thing happened before his +very eyes, while he was yet too far off to stay the ruthless act, +before his warning shout could serve. + +He saw a figure dart out from the rancher's stable. He saw it halt and +stand. He saw one arm stretched out, and he realized and shouted to +Jake. + +The foreman stood, turned, a pistol-shot rang out, and he fell on his +face. Tresler ran forward, but before he could reach him two more +shots rang out, and a third sent its bullet whistling past his own +head. + +He ran for the man who had fired them. He knew him now; it was Anton. +But, fleet of foot, the half-breed had reached the stable, where a +horse stood ready saddled. He saw him vault into the saddle, and he +saw him vanish into the adjacent woods. Then, at last, he gave up the +chase and ran back to the fallen man. + +Kneeling at his side he raised the great leonine head. The man was +alive, and he shouted to the men at the bunkhouse for aid. But even as +he called Jake spoke. + +"It ain't no good," he said, in a hoarse tone. "I'm done. Done up by +that lyin' son-of-a----, 'Tough' McCulloch. I might 'a' known. Guess +I flicked him sore." He paused as the sound of running feet came from +the bunkhouse and Arizona's voice was calling to know Tresler's +whereabouts. Then the foreman's great frame gave a shiver. "Quick, +Tresler," he said, in a voice that had suddenly grown faint; +"ther' ain't much time. Listen! get around Widow Dangley's +place--to-night--two--mornin' all----" + +There came a rattle of flowing blood in his throat which blurred +anything else he had to say. But he had said sufficient. Tresler +understood. + +When Arizona came up Jake, so long the bully of Mosquito Bend, had +passed over the One-Way Trail. He died shot in three places, twice in +the chest and once in the stomach. Anton, or rather "Tough" McCulloch, +had done his work with all the consummate skill for which he had once +been so notorious. And, as something of this flashed through Tresler's +brain, another thought came with it, prompted by the presence of +Arizona, who was now on his knees beside him. + +"It's Anton, Arizona," he said. "Jake riled him. He shot him, and has +bolted through the wood, back there, mounted on one of Marbolt's +horses. He's making for the hills. Quick, here, listen! the others are +coming. You know 'Tough' McCulloch?" + +"Wal?" There was an ominous ring in Arizona's voice. + +"You'd like to find him?" + +"Better'n heaven." + +"Anton is 'Tough' McCulloch." + +"Who told you?" + +"Jake, here. I didn't mention it before, because--because----" + +"Did you say the hills?" + +Arizona had risen to his feet. There was no emotion in his manner. +They might have been discussing the most ordinary topic. Now the rest +of the men crowded round. And Tresler heard the rancher's voice +calling from the verandah to inquire into the meaning of the shots. +However, heedless of the others, he replied to the cowpuncher's +question. + +"Yes," he said. + +"Shake. S'long." + +The two men gripped and Arizona faded away in the uncertain light, in +the direction of the barn. + +And the dead Jake was borne by rough but gentle hands into his own +shack. And there was not one amongst those "boys" but would have been +ready and eager to help him, if help had been possible. Even on the +prairie death atones for much that in life is voted intolerable. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +AT WIDOW DANGLEY'S + + +Inside the hut, where Jake had so long been master, the boys were +grouped round the bunk on which their old oppressor was laid out; the +strong, rough fellows were awed with the magnitude of the outrage. +Jake, Jake Harnach, the terror of the ranch, "done up." The thought +was amazing. Tresler was quietly stripping clothes from the dead man's +upper body to free the wounds for the doctor's inspection, and Raw +Harris was close beside him. It was while in the midst of this +operation that the former came upon another wound. Raw Harris also saw +it, and at once drew his attention. + +"Guess I heerd four shots," he said. "Say, that feller Anton was a +daddy. Four of 'em, an' all found their mark. I 'lows this one's on'y +a graze. Might 'a' bin done wi' a knife, et's so clean. Yes, sirree, +he was a daddy, sure." + +As no one seemed inclined to contradict the statement that Anton was a +"daddy," and as the question of four shots or three was of no vital +interest to the onlookers, the matter passed unheeded. Only Tresler +found food for reflection. That fourth wound he knew had not been +inflicted by the half-breed. He remembered the rancher's knife and +its dripping point, and he remembered Jake's cry, "You would, would +you!" He needed no other explanation. + +While the two men were still bending over their task there was a +slight stir at the open door. The silent onlookers parted, leaving a +sort of aisle to the bedside, and Julian Marbolt came shuffling his +way through them, heralded by the regular tap, tap, of his guiding +stick. + +It was with many conflicting emotions that Tresler looked round when +he heard the familiar sound. He stared at the man as he might stare at +some horrid beast of prey, fascinated even against himself. It would +have been hard to say what feeling was uppermost with him at the +moment. Astonishment, loathing, expectation, and even some dread, all +struggled for place, and the combination held him silent, waiting for +what that hateful presence was to bring forth. He could have found it +in his heart to denounce him then and there, only it would have served +no purpose, and would probably have done much harm. Therefore he +contented himself with gazing into the inflamed depths of the man's +mysterious eyes with an intentness he had never yet bestowed upon +them, and while he looked all the horror of the scene in the office +stole over him again and made him shudder. + +"Where is he--where is Jake?" the blind man asked, halting accurately +at the bedside. + +The question was directed at no one in particular, but Tresler took it +upon himself to answer. + +"Lying on the bed before you," he said coldly. + +The man turned on him swiftly. "Ah--Tresler," he said. + +Then he bent over the bed, and his hands groped over the dead man's +body till they came into contact with the congealing blood round the +wound in his stomach. + +With a movement of repulsion he drew back sharply. "He's not dead?" he +questioned, with a queer eagerness, turning round to those about him. + +"Yes, he is dead," replied Tresler, with unintentional solemnity. + +"Who--who did it?" + +The question came in a tense voice, sharper and more eagerly than the +preceding one. + +"Anton," chorused the men, as though finding relief from their long +silence in the announcement. The crime was even secondary to the +personality of the culprit with them. Anton's name was uppermost in +their minds, and so they spoke it readily. + +"Anton? And where is he? Have you got him?" + +The rancher had turned about, and addressed himself generally. + +"Anton has made off with one of your horses," said Tresler. "I tried +to get him, but he had too much start for me. I was on foot." + +"Well, why are you all here? Have none of you sense enough to get +after him?" + +"Arizona is after him, and, until the sheriff comes, he is sufficient. +He will never leave his trail." + +There was no mistaking the significance Tresler conveyed in his last +remark. The rancher took him up sharply. + +"What do you mean?" + +"Arizona has no love for Anton." + +"Ah! And Jake. Who found him? Who was there when he died?" + +Marbolt's eyes had fixed themselves on Tresler's face. And the latter +had no hesitation in suiting his reply to his own purpose. + +"I found him--dead; quite dead. His death must have been +instantaneous." + +"So." + +Marbolt turned back to the bed. + +The rancher stood over the dead man in silence for some minutes. Then, +to Tresler's horror, he broke out into a low-voiced lamentation, the +hypocrisy of which made him want to seize him by the throat and choke +the words ere they were uttered. + +"My poor old Jake!" he said, with infinite pity. "Poor old Jake!" he +repeated, addressing the dead man sorrowfully. "I wish now I'd taken +your advice about that rascal and got rid of him. And to think that +you should be the man on whom he was to wreak his treachery. I wonder +how it came about. It must have been that rough temper of yours. +Tresler," he cried, pointing to the still form on the bed, "there lies +the truest, the only friend I ever had. That man has stood by me when +all others left me. Yes, we've fought side by side in the Indian days; +ay, and further back still. I remember when he would have defended me +with his life; poor Jake! I suppose he had his faults, the same as +most of us have. Yes, and I wager his temper took him foul of Anton. +Poor old Jake! I suppose we shall never know the truth of this." He +paused. Then he cried fiercely, "Damn it! Men, every one of you, I'll +give a thousand dollars to the one who brings Anton back, dead or +alive. Dead from preference, then he won't escape us. A thousand +dollars. Now, who?" + +But Tresler could stand it no longer. "Don't trouble, Mr. Marbolt," he +said icily. "It is no use your offering rewards. The man who has gone +after Anton will find him. And you can rest satisfied he'll take +nothing from you on that score. You may not know Arizona; I do." + +"You are confident," the other retorted, resentful at once. + +"I have reason to be," came the decided answer. + +Marbolt shook his close-cropped head. His resentment had gone from his +manner again. He had few moods which he was unable to control at will. +That was how it seemed to Tresler. + +"I hope truly it may be as you say. But I must still doubt. However," +he went on, in a lighter tone, "in the meantime there is work to be +done. The doctor must be summoned. Send some one for doctor and +sheriff first thing to-morrow morning, Tresler. It is no use worrying +them to-night. The sheriff has his night work to do, and wouldn't +thank us for routing him out now. Besides, nothing can be done until +daylight! And the doctor is only needed to certify. Poor old Jake!" + +He turned away with something very like a sigh. Half-way to the door +he paused. + +"Tresler, you take charge of things to-night. Have this door locked. +And," he added, with redoubled earnestness, "are you sure Arizona will +hunt that man down?" + +"Perfectly." + +Tresler smiled grimly. He fancied he understood the persistence. + +There was a moment's silence. Then the stick tapped, and the rancher +passed out under the curious gaze of his men. Tresler, too, looked +after him. Nor was there any doubt of his feelings now. He knew that +his presence in the house during Marbolt's murderous assault on Jake +was unsuspected. And Marbolt, villainous hypocrite that he was, was +covering his tracks. He loathed the blind villain as he never thought +to have loathed anybody. And all through his thoughts there was a +cold, hard vein of triumph which was utterly foreign to his nature, +but which was quite in keeping with his feelings toward the man with +whom he was dealing. + +As Julian Marbolt passed out the men kept silence, and even when the +distant tapping of his stick had died away. Tresler looked round him +at these hardy comrades of his with something like delight in his +eyes. Joe was not there, which matter gave him satisfaction. The +faithful little fellow was at his post to care for Diane. Now he +turned to Harris. + +"Raw," he said, "will you ride in for the doctor?" + +"He said t'-morrer," the man objected. + +"I know. But if you'd care to do me a favor you'll ride in and warn +the doctor to-night, and then--ride out to Widow Dangley's and meet +us all there, _cached_ in the neighborhood." + +The man stared; every man in that room was instantly agog with +interest. Something in Tresler's tone had brought a light to their +eyes which he was glad to see. + +"What is 't?" asked Jacob, eagerly. + +"Ay," protested Raw; "no bluffin'." + +"There's no bluffing about me," Tresler said quickly. "I'm dead in +earnest. Here, listen, boys. I want you all to go out quietly, one by +one. It's eight miles to Widow Dangley's. Arrange to get there by +half-past one in the morning--and don't forget your guns. There's a +big bluff adjoining the house," he suggested significantly. "I shall +be along, and so will the sheriff and all his men. I think there'll be +a racket, and we may--there, I can tell you no more. I refrained from +asking Marbolt's permission; you remember what he said once before. +We'll not risk saying anything to him." + +"I'm in to the limit," said Raw, with decision. + +"Guess we don't want no limit to this racket. We'll jest get right +along," said Jacob, quietly. + +And after that the men filed out one by one. And when the last had +gone, Tresler put the lamp out and locked the door. Then he quietly +stole up to the kitchen and peered in at the window. Diane was there, +so was Joe, with two guns hanging to his belt. He had little +difficulty in drawing their attention. There was no dalliance about +his visit this time. He waived aside the eager questions with which +the girl assailed him, and merely gave her a quiet warning. + +"Stay up all night, dear," he said, "but do not let your father know +it." + +To Joe he said: "Joe, if you sleep a wink this night I'll never +forgive you." + +Then he hurried away, satisfied that neither would fail him, and went +to the barn. Without a word, almost without a sound, he saddled the +Lady Jezebel. + +His mare ready, he went and gazed long and earnestly up at the +rancher's house. He was speculating in his mind as to the risk he was +running. Not the general risk, but the risk of success or failure in +his enterprise. + +He waited until the last of the lights had gone out, and the house +stood out a mere black outline in the moonlight, then he disappeared +within the barn again, and presently reappeared leading his fractious +mare. A few moments later he rode quietly off. And the manner of his +going brought a grim smile to his lips, for he thought of the ghostly +movements of the night-riders as he had witnessed them. His way lay in +a different direction from that of his comrades. Instead of taking the +trail, as they had done, he skirted the upper corral and pastures, and +plunged into the black pinewoods behind the house. + + * * * * * + +The Widow Dangley's homestead looked much more extensive in the +moonlight than it really was. Everything was shown up, endowed with a +curious silvery burnish which dazzled the eyes till shadows became +magnified into buildings, and the buildings themselves distorted out +of all proportion. Hers was simply a comfortable place and quite +unpretentious. + +The ranch stood in a narrow valley, in the midst of which a small +brook gurgled its way on to the Mosquito River, about four miles +distant. The valley was one of those sharp cuttings in which the +prairie abounds, quite hidden and unmarked from the land above, lying +unsuspected until one chances directly upon it. It was much like a +furrow of Nature's ploughing, cut out to serve as a drainage for the +surrounding plains. It wound its irregular course away east and west, +a maze of undergrowth, larger bluff, low red-sand cut-banks and +crumbling gravel cliffs, all scattered by a prodigal hand, with a +profusion that seemed wanton amidst the surrounding wastes of +grass-land. + +The house stood on the northern slope, surrounded on three sides by a +protecting bluff of pinewoods. Then to the right of it came the +outbuildings, and last, at least one hundred and fifty yards from the +rest, came the corrals, well hidden in the bluff, instead, as is +usual, of being overlooked by the house. Certainly Widow Dangley was a +confiding person. + +And so Tresler, comparatively inexperienced as he was, thought, as he +surveyed the prospect in the moonlight from the back of his mare. He +was accompanied by Sheriff Fyles, and the two men were estimating the +chances they were likely to have against possible invaders. + +"How goes the time?" asked the sheriff, after a few moments' silent +contemplation of the scene. + +"You've half an hour in which to dispose your forces. Ah! there's one +of your fellows riding down the opposite bank." Tresler pointed across +the valley. + +"Yes, and there's another lower down," Fyles observed quietly. "And +here's one dropping down to your right. All on time. What of your +men?" + +"They should be in yonder bluff, backing the corrals." + +"How many?" + +"Four, including the cook." + +"Four, and sixteen of mine--twenty. Our two selves--twenty-two. Good; +come on." + +The man led the way to the bluff. The cowboys were all there. They +received instructions to hold the position at the corrals; to defend +them, or to act as reinforcements if the struggle should take place +elsewhere. Then the two leaders passed on down into the valley. It was +an awkward descent, steep, and of a loose surface that shelved under +their horses' feet. For the moment a cloud had obscured the moon, and +Fyles looked up. A southwesterly breeze had sprung up, and there was a +watery look about the sky. + +"Good," he said again, in his abrupt manner. "There won't be too much +moon. Moonlight is not altogether an advantage in a matter of this +sort. We must depend chiefly on a surprise. We don't want too many +empty saddles." + +At the bottom of the valley they found the rest of the men gathered +together in the shelter of the scattered undergrowth. It was Fyles's +whole command. He proceeded at once to divide them up into two +parties. One he stationed east of the ranch, split into a sort of +skirmishing order, to act under Tresler's charge. The other party he +took for his own command, selecting an advantageous position to the +west. He had also established a code of signals to be used on the +approach of the enemy; these took the form of the cry of the +screech-owl. Thus, within a quarter of an hour after their arrival, +all was in readiness for the raiders, and the valley once more +returned to its native quiet. + +And how quiet and still it all was! The time crept on toward the +appointed hour. The moon was still high in the heavens, but its light +had grown more and more uncertain. The clouds had become dense to a +stormy extent. Now and then the rippling waters of the brook caught +and reflected for a moment a passing shaft of light, like a silvery +rift in the midst of the valley, but otherwise all was shadow. And in +the occasional moonlight every tree and bush and boulder was magnified +into some weird, spectral shape, distorting it from plain truth into +some grotesque fiction, turning the humblest growth into anything from +a grazing steer to a moving vehicle; from a prowling coyote to a log +hut. The music of the waking night-world droned on the scented air, +emphasizing the calm, the delicious peace. It was like some fairy +kingdom swept by strains of undefined music which haunted the ear +without monotony, and peopled with shadows which the imagination could +mould at its pleasure. + +But in the eagerness of the moment all this was lost to the waiting +men. To them it was a possible battleground; with a view to cover, it +was a strategic position, and they were satisfied with it. The cattle, +turned loose from the corrals, must pass up or down the valley; +similarly, any number of men must approach from one of these two +directions, which meant that the ambush could not be avoided. + +At last the warning signal came. An owl hooted from somewhere up the +valley, the cry rising in weird cadence and dying away lingeringly. +And, at the same time, there came the sound of a distant rumble, like +the steady drone of machinery at some far-off point. Tresler at once +gave up his watch on the east and centred all attention upon the west. +One of his own men had answered the owl's cry, and a third screech +came from the guard at the corrals. + +The rumble grew louder. There were no moving objects visible yet, but +the growing sound was less of a murmur; it was more detached, and the +straining ears distinctly made out the clatter of hoofs evidently +traveling fast down the valley trail. On they came, steadily hammering +out their measure with crisp precision. It was a moment of tense +excitement for those awaiting the approach. But only a moment, +although the sensation lasted longer. The moon suddenly brought the +whole thing into reality. Suspense was banished with its revealing +light, and each man, steady at his post, gripped his carbine or +revolver, ready to pour in a deadly fire the moment the word should be +given. A troop of about eighteen horsemen dashed round a bend of the +valley and plunged into the ambush. + +Instantly Fyles's voice rang out. "Halt, or we fire!" he cried. + +The horsemen drew rein at once, but the reply was a pistol-shot in +the direction whence his voice had sounded. The defiance was Tresler's +signal. He passed the word to his men, and a volley of carbine-fire +rang out at once, and confusion in the ranks of the horsemen followed +immediately. + +Then the battle began in deadly earnest. The sheriff's men leapt into +their saddles, and advanced both in front and in rear of the trapped +raiders. And the cowpunchers came racing down from the corrals to hurl +themselves into the _melee_ whooping and yelling, as only men of their +craft can. + +The fight waxed furious, but the odds were in favor of the ambush. The +clouded sky lent neither side much assistance. Now and again the +peeping moon looked down upon the scene as though half afraid to show +itself, and it was by those fleeting rays that the sheriff's men +leveled their carbines and poured in their deadly fire. But the +raiders were no mean foe. They fought desperately, and were masters in +the use of their weapons. Their confusion of the first moment passed +instantly, and they rode straight at Tresler's line of defense with a +determination that threatened to overwhelm it and force a passage. But +the coming of the cowpunchers stemmed the tide and hurled them back on +Fyles's force in their rear. Several riderless horses escaped in the +_melee_; nor were they only belonging to the raiders. One of the +"deputies" had dropped from his saddle right beside Tresler, and there +was no telling, in the darkness, how many others had met with a +similar fate. Red Mask's gang had been fairly trapped, and both sides +meant to fight to a finish. + +All this time both Tresler and Fyles were looking out for the leader, +the man of all whom they desired to capture. But the darkness, which +had favored the ambuscade, now defeated their object. In the mob of +struggling humanity it was difficult enough to distinguish friend from +foe, let alone to discover any one person. The ranks of the "deputies" +had closed right in and a desperate hand-to-hand struggle was going +on. + +Tresler was caught in the midst of the tide, his crazy mare had +carried him there whether he would or no; but if she had carried him +thus into deadly peril, she was also ready to fight for him. She laid +about her royally, swept on, and reared plunging at every obstruction +to her progress, her master thus escaping many a shot, if it left him +able to do little better than fire at random himself. In this frantic +fashion the maddened creature tore her way through the thick of the +fight, and her rider was borne clear to the further outskirts. Then +she tried to get away with him, but in the nick of time, before her +strong teeth had fixed themselves on the bit, he managed to head her +once again for the struggling mass. + +With furious recklessness she charged forward, and, as bad luck would +have it, her wild career brought about the worst thing possible. She +cannoned violently into the sheriff's charger, while its rider was in +the act of leveling his revolver at the head of a man wearing a red +mask. The impact was within an ace of bringing both horses and riders +to the ground. The mare was flung on her haunches, while Fyles, +cursing bitterly, clung desperately to his saddle to retain his seat. +But his aim was lost, and his shot narrowly missed his horse's head; +and, before either he or Tresler had recovered himself, the red masked +man had vanished into the darkness, heading for the perilous ascent of +the valley side. + +Terrified out of her life the Lady Jezebel turned swinging round on +her haunches, and charged down the valley; and as she went Tresler had +the questionable satisfaction of seeing the sheriff detach himself +from the mob and gallop in pursuit of the raider. + +His own blood was up now, and though the mare had got the bit in her +teeth he fought her with a fury equal to her own. He knew she was +mistress of the situation, but he simply would not give in. He would +kill her rather than she should get away with him this time. And so, +as nothing else had any effect on her, he snatched a pistol from its +holster and leant over and pounded the side of her head with the butt +of it in a wild attempt to turn her. At first she gave not the +smallest heed to his blows; such was her madness. But presently she +flinched under them and turned her head away, and her body responded +to the movement. In another moment he had her round, and as she faced +the side of the valley where the raider had disappeared, he slashed +her cruelly with his spurs. In a moment the noise of the battle was +left behind him, and the mare, with cat-like leaps, was breasting the +ascent. + +And Tresler only thought of the man he was in pursuit of. His own +neck or the neck of his mare mattered nothing to him then. Through +him, or through the mare, they had lost Red Mask. He must rectify +the fault. He had no idea how. His brain was capable of only one +thought--pursuit; and he thanked his stars for the sure-footed beast +under him. Nothing stopped her; she lifted to every obstruction. A +cut-bank had no terrors for her, she simply charged it with her great, +strong hoofs till the gravel and sand poured away under them and left +her a foothold. Bushes were trampled down or plunged through. Blindly +she raced for the top, at an angle that made her rider cling to the +horn of his saddle to keep himself from sliding off over the cantle. + +They passed Fyles struggling laboriously to reach the top. The Lady +Jezebel seemed to shoot past him and leave him standing. And as he +went Tresler called out-- + +"How much start has he?" + +"He's topping it now," the sheriff replied. + +And the answer fired Tresler's excitement so that he again rammed both +spurs into the mare's flanks. The top of the hill loomed up against +the sky. A thick fringe of bush confronted them. Head down, nose +almost touching the ground, the mad animal plunged into it. Her rider +barely had time to lie down in his saddle and cling to her neck. His +thoughts were in a sort of mental whirlpool and he hardly realized +what had happened, when, the next moment, the frenzied demon under him +plunged out on to the open prairie. + +She made no pause or hesitation, but like a shot from a gun swept on +straight as the crow flies, her nose alone guiding her. She still held +the bit in her jaws; her frolic had only just begun. Tresler looked +ahead and scanned the sky-line, but the darkness obscured all signs +of his quarry. + +He had just made up his mind to trust to chance and the captious mood +of his mare when the moon, crossing a rift in the clouds, gave him a +sort of flashlight view of the horizon. It only lasted a few seconds, +but it lasted long enough for him to detect a horseman heading for the +Mosquito River, away to the right, with a start that looked like +something over a mile. His heart sank at the prospect. But the next +instant hope bounded within him, for the mare swung round of her own +accord and stretched herself for the race. + +He understood. She had recognized the possibility of company; and few +horses, whatever their temper, can resist that. + +He leaned over and patted her shoulder, easing her of his weight like +a jockey. + +"Now, you she-devil," he murmured affectionately, "behave yourself for +once, and go--go like the fiend you are!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE PURSUIT OF RED MASK + + +A mile start; it would seem an impossible advantage. Even with a far +better horse in pursuit, how many miles must be covered before that +distance could be made up? Could the lost ground be regained in eight +miles? It looked to be out of the question even to Tresler, hopeful of +his mare as he was, and knowing her remarkable turn of speed. Yet such +proved to be the case. Eight miles saw him so close on the heels of +the raider that there was nothing left for the fugitive but to keep +on. + +He felt no surprise that they were traversing the river trail. He even +thought he knew how he could head his man off by a short cut. But this +would not serve his purpose. He wanted to get him red-handed, and to +leave him now would be to give him a chance that he was confident +would be taken advantage of at once. The river trail led to the ranch. +And the only branches anywhere along its route were those running +north and south at the ford. + +Steadily he closed up, foot by foot, yard by yard. Sometimes he saw +his quarry, sometimes he was only guided by the beat of the speeding +hoofs. Now that he was urging her, the Lady Jezebel had relinquished +the bit, not only willing, but bursting to do better than her best. +No rider could resist such an appeal. And as they went Tresler found +himself talking to her with an affection that would have sounded +ridiculous to any but a horseman. It made him smile to see her ears +laid back, not in the manner of a horse putting forth its last +efforts, but with that vicious air she always had, as though she were +running open-mouthed at Jacob Smith, as he had seen her do in the +corral on his introduction to her. + +When they came to the river ford he was a bare hundred yards in the +wake of his man. Here the road turned off for the ranch, and the trees +met overhead and shut out the light of the moon. It was pitch black, +and he was only guided by the sound of the other horse in front. +Abreast of the ford he became aware that this sound had abruptly died +out, and at the bend of the trail he pulled up and listened acutely. +They stood thus, the mare's great body heaving under him, until her +rider caught the faint sound of breaking bush somewhere directly ahead +of them. + +Instantly recollection came to his help, and he laughed as he turned +the mare off the trail and plunged into the scrub. It was the spot +where, once before, he had taken, unwillingly, to the bush. There was +no hesitation, no uncertainty. They raced through the tangle, and +threaded their way on to the disused trail they had both traveled +before. + +The fugitive had gained considerably now, and Tresler, for the first +time since the race had begun, asked his mare for more pace. She +simply shook her head, snorted, and swished her tail, as though +protesting that the blow was unnecessary. She could not do the +impossible, and that he was asking of her. But his forcible request +was the nervous result of his knowledge that the last lap of the race +had been entered upon and the home stretch was not far off. It must be +now or never. + +He soon realized that the remaining distance was all too short. As he +came to the place where the forest abruptly terminated, he saw that +day had broken. The gray light showed him to be still thirty yards or +so behind. + +They had reached the broken lands he remembered so well. Before him +stretched the plateau leading to the convergence of the river and the +cliff. It was the sight of this which gave him an inspiration. He +remembered the branching trail to the bridge, also the wide sweep it +took, as compared with the way he had first come. To leap the river +would gain him fifty yards. But in that light it was a risk--a grave +risk. He hesitated. Annoyed at his own indecision, he determined to +risk everything on one throw. The other horse was distinctly lagging. +He reached down and patted his mare's neck. And that simple action +restored his confidence; he felt that she was still on top of her +work. The river would have no terrors for her. + +He saw the masked man turn off for the bridge, but he held straight +on. He gave another anxious look at the sky. The dull gray was still +unbroken by any flush of sunrise, but it was lighter, certainly. The +mask of clouds was breaking, though it still contrived to keep +daylight in abeyance. He had no option but to settle himself in the +saddle for the great effort. Light or no light, he could not turn back +now. + +And for the while he forgot the fugitive. His mind centred on the +river ahead, and the moment when his hand must lend the mare that aid, +without which he could not hope, after her great journey, to win the +far bank. His nerve was steady, and his eyes never more alert. +Everything was distinct enough about him. The bushes flying by were +clearly outlined now, and he fancied he could already see the river's +line of demarkation. On they raced, he leaning well forward, she with +her ears pricked, attentive to the murmurs of the water already so +near. Unconsciously his knees gripped the leggaderos of his saddle +with all the power he could put into the pressure, and his body was +bent crouching, as though he were about to make the spring himself. + +And the moment came. He spurred and lifted; and the game beast shot +forward like a rocket. A moment, and she landed. But the half lights +must have deceived her. She had jumped further than before, and, +crashing into a boulder with her two fore feet, she turned a complete +somersault, and fell headlong to the ground, hurling her rider yards +out of the saddle into the soft loose sand of the trail beyond. + +Quite unhurt, Tresler was on his feet in an instant. But the mare lay +still where she had fallen. A hopeless feeling of regret swept over +the man as he turned and beheld her. He saw the masked rider dash at +the hillside on his weary horse, not twenty yards from him, but he +gave him no heed. + +It needed no look into the mare's glazing eyes to tell him what he had +done. He had killed her. The first really honest act of her life had +led to the unfortunate creature's own undoing. Her lean ewe neck was +broken, as were both her forelegs. + +The moment he had ascertained the truth he left her, and, looking up +at the hill, saw that it was high time. The rider had vanished, but +his jaded horse was standing half-way up the hillside in the mire of +loose sand. It was either too frightened or too weary to move, and +stood there knee-deep, a picture of dejection. + +The task of mounting to the ledge was no light one, but Tresler faced +it without a second thought. The other had only something less than a +minute's start of him, and as there was only one other exit to the +place--and that, he remembered, of a very unpromising nature--he had +few fears of the man's ultimate escape. No, there was no escape for +him; and besides--a smile lit up the hard set of his features at the +thought--daylight had really come. The clouds had at last given way +before the rosy herald of sunrise. + +The last of the ascent was accomplished, and, breathing hard, Tresler +stepped on to the gravel-strewn plateau, gun in hand. He felt glad of +his five-chambered companion. Those rough friends of his on the ranch +were right. There was nothing so compelling, nothing so arbitrary, nor +so reassuring to the possessor and confounding to his enemies, as a +gun well handled. + +The ledge was empty. He looked at the towering cliff, but there was no +sign of his man in that direction. He moved toward the hut, but at the +first step the door of the dugout was flung wide, and Julian Marbolt, +gun in hand, dashed out. + +He came with a rush, without hesitation, confidently; but as the door +was thrown open, and the flood of daylight shone down upon him, he +fell back with a bitter cry of despair, and Tresler knew that he had +not reckoned on the change from comparative darkness to daylight. He +needed no further proof of what he had come to suspect. The rancher +was only blind in the presence of strong light! + +For a second only he stood cowering back, then, feeling his way, he +darted with miraculous rapidity round the side of the building, and +scrambled toward the dizzy staircase in the rock. + +Tresler challenged him at once, but he paid no heed. He had reached +the foot of the stairway, and was climbing for life and liberty. The +other knew that he ought to have opened fire on him, but the old +desire to trust to his hands and bodily strength overcame his better +judgment, and he ran at him. His impulse was humane but futile, for +the man was ascending with marvelous rapidity, and by the time he had +reached the foot of the ladder, was beyond his reach. + +There was nothing left now but to use his gun or to follow. One look +at the terrific ascent, however, left him no choice. + +"Go on, and I'll drop you, Julian Marbolt!" he shouted. "I've five +chambers loaded in each gun." + +For response, the blind man increased his exertions. On he went, up, +up, till it made the man below dizzy to watch him. Tresler raised his +gun and fired wide, letting the bullet strike the rock close to the +man's right hand to convince him of his intentions. He saw the +limestone splinter as the bullet hit it, while the clutching, groping +hand slid higher for a fresh hold; but it had no other effect. + +He was at a loss. If the man reached the top, he knew that somewhere +over the brink lay a road to safety. And he was nearing it; nearing it +foot by foot with his crawling, clinging clutch upon the face of rock. +He shuddered as he watched, fascinated even against himself. Deprived +of sight, the man's whole body seemed alert with an instinct that +served him in its stead. His movements were like those of some +cuttlefish, reaching out blindly with its long feelers and drawing +itself up by the power of its tentacles. + +He shouted a last warning. "Your last chance!" he cried; and now his +aim was true, and his purpose inflexible. + +The only answer was a hurried movement on the part of the climbing +man. + +Tresler's finger was on the trigger, while his eyes were fixed on his +mark. But the hammer did not fall; the final compression of the hand +was stayed, while horror leapt into the eyes so keenly looking over +the sight. Something had happened up there on the face of the cliff. +The man had slipped! One foot shot out helplessly, as the frantic +climber struggled for those last few steps before the shot came. He +wildly sought to recover himself, but the fatal jolt carried the +weight of his body with it, and wrenched the other foot from its hold. +For the fraction of a second the man below became aware of the +clinging hands, as they desperately held to the rock, and then he +dropped his gun and clapped his hands over his ears as a piercing +shriek rang out. He could not witness any more. He only heard, in +spite of his stopped ears, the lumping of a soft body falling; he saw, +though his eyes were closed almost on the instant, a huddled figure +pitch dully upon the edge of the plateau and disappear below. It all +passed in a flash. + +Then silence reigned. And when he opened his eyes there was no +horrible sight, nothing seemed to have been disturbed. It had gone; no +trace was left, not a tatter of cloth, not a spot of blood, nothing. + +He knew. His imaginary vision of the old-time trapper had been enacted +before his very eyes. All that remained of Julian Marbolt was +lying--down there. + + * * * * * + +Fyles and Tresler were standing in the valley below. They were gazing +on the mangled remains of the rancher. Fyles had removed the piece of +red blanket from the dead man's face, and held it up for inspection. + +"Um!" he grunted. "The game's played out." + +"There's more of that up there in the hut," said Tresler. + +"Breed blanket," commented Fyles, folding it up and carefully +bestowing it in his pocket. Then he turned and gazed down the yawning +valley. It was a wonderful place, a mighty rift extending for miles +into the heart of the mountains. "A nice game, too," he went on +presently. "Ever seen this place before?" + +"Once," Tresler replied. Then he told the officer of his runaway ride. + +Fyles listened with interest. At the conclusion he said, "Pity you +didn't tell me of this before. However, you missed the chief interest. +Look away down there in the shelter of the cliff. See--about a mile +down. Corrals enough to shepherd ten thousand head. And they are +cunningly disposed." + +Tresler now became aware of a scattered array of corrals, stretching +away out into the distance, but so arranged at the foot of the +towering walls of the valley that they needed looking for closely. + +Then he looked up at the ledge which had been the scene of the +disaster, and the ladder of hewn steps above, and he pointed at them. + +"I wonder what's on the other side?" + +"That's an easy one," replied his companion promptly. "Half-breeds." + +"A settlement?" + +"That's about it. You remember the Breeds cleared away from their old +settlement lately. We've never found them. Once they take to the +hills, it's like a needle in a haystack. Maybe friend Anton is in +hiding there." + +"I doubt it. 'Tough' McCulloch didn't belong to them, as I told you. +He comes from over the border. No; he's getting away as fast as his +horse can carry him. And Arizona isn't far off his trail, if I'm any +judge." + +Fyles's great round face was turned contemplatively on his companion. + +"Well, that's for the future, anyhow," he observed, and moved to a +bush some yards away. "Let's take it easy. Money, one of my deputies, +has gone in for a wagon. I don't expect him for a couple of hours or +so. We must keep it company," he added, nodding his head in the +direction of the dead man. + +They sat down and silently lit their pipes. Fyles was the first to +speak. + +"Guess I've got to thank you," he said, as though that sort of thing +was quite out of his province. + +Tresler shook his head. "Not me," he said. "Thank my poor mare." Then +he added, with a bitter laugh, "Why, but for the accident of his fall, +I'm not sure he wouldn't have escaped. I'm pretty weak-kneed when it +comes to dropping a man in cold blood." + +The other shook his head. + +"No; he wouldn't have escaped. You underestimate yourself. But even if +you had missed I had him covered with my carbine. I was watching the +whole thing down here. You see, Money and I came on behind. I don't +suppose we were more than a few minutes after you. That mare you were +riding was a dandy. I see she's done." + +"Yes," Tresler said sorrowfully. "And I'm not ashamed to say it's hit +me hard. She did us a good turn." + +"And she owed it to us." + +"You mean when she upset everything during the fight?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, she's more than made amends. In spite of her temper, that mare +of mine was the finest thing on the ranch." + +"Yours?" Fyles raised his eyebrows. + +"Well--Marbolt's." + +But the officer shook his head. "Nor Marbolt's. She belonged to me. +Three years ago I turned her out to graze at Whitewater with a bunch +of others, as an incorrigible rogue and vagabond. The whole lot were +stolen and one of the guard shot. Her name was 'Strike 'em.'" + +"Strike 'em?" + +"Yes. Ever have her come at you with both front feet, and her mouth +open?" + +Tresler nodded. + +"That's it. 'Strike 'em.' Fine mare--half blood." + +"But Marbolt told Jake he bought her from a half-breed outfit." + +"Dare say he did." + +Fyles relit his pipe for about the twentieth time, which caused +Tresler to hand him his pouch. + +"Try tobacco," he said, with a smile. + +The sheriff accepted the invitation with unruffled composure. The +gentle sarcasm passed quite unheeded. Probably the man was too intent +on the business of the moment, for he went on as though no +interruption had occurred. + +"After seeing you on that mare I found the ranch interesting. But the +man's blindness fooled me right along. I had no trouble in +ascertaining that Jake had nothing to do with things. Also I was +assured that none of the 'hands' were playing the game. Anton was the +man for me. But soon I discovered that he was not the actual leader. +So far, good. There was only Marbolt left; but he was blind. Last +night, when you came for me, and told me what had happened at the +ranch, and about the lighted lamp, I tumbled. But even so I still +failed to understand all. The man was blind in daylight, and could see +in darkness or half-light. Now, what the deuce sort of blind disease +is that? And he seems to have kept the secret, acting the blind man at +all times. It was clever--devilish clever." + +Tresler nodded. "Yes; he fooled us all, even his daughter." + +The other shot a quick glance from out of the corners of his eyes. + +"I suppose so," he observed, and waited. + +They smoked in silence. + +"What are you going to do next?" asked Tresler, as the other showed no +disposition to speak. + +The man shrugged. "Take possession of the ranch. Just keep the hands +to run it. The lady had better go into Forks if she has any friends +there. You might see to that. I understand that you are--gossip, you +know." + +"Yes." + +"There'll be inquiries and formalities. The property I don't know +about. That will be settled by the government." + +Tresler became thoughtful. Suddenly he turned to his companion. + +"Sheriff," he said earnestly, "I hope you'll spare Miss Marbolt all +you can. She has lived a terribly unhappy life with him. I can assure +you she has known nothing of this--nothing of the strange blindness. I +would swear it with my last breath." + +"I don't doubt you, my boy," the other said heartily. "We owe you too +much to doubt you. She shall not be bothered more than can be helped. +But she had some knowledge of that blindness, or she would not have +acted as she did with that lamp. I tell you candidly she will have to +make a statement." + +"Have no doubt; she will explain." + +"Sure--ah! I think I hear the wheels of the wagon." Fyles looked +round. Then he settled himself down again. "Jake," he went on, "was +smartest of us all. I can't believe he was ever told of his patron's +curious blindness. He must have discovered it. He was playing a big +game. And all for a woman! Well, well." + +"No doubt he thought she was worth it," said Tresler, with some +asperity. + +The officer smiled at the tone. "No doubt, no doubt. Still, he wasn't +young. He fooled you when he concurred with your suspicions of +Anton--that is, he knew you were off the true scent, and meant keeping +you off it. I can understand, too, why you were sent to Willow Bluff. +You knew too much, you were too inquiring. Besides, from your own +showing to Jake--which he carried on to the blind man for his own +ends--you wanted too much. You had to be got rid of, as others have +been got rid of before. Yes, it was all very clever. And he never +spared his own stock. Robbed himself by transferring a bunch of +steers to these corrals, and, later on, I suppose, letting them drift +back to his own pastures. I only wonder why, with a ranch like his, he +ran the risk." + +"Perhaps it was old-time associations. He was a slave-trader once, and +no doubt he stocked his ranch originally by raiding the Indians' +cattle. Then, when white people came around, and the Indians +disappeared, he continued his depredations on less open lines." + +"Ah! slave-trader, was he? Who said?" + +"Miss Marbolt innocently told me he once traded in the Indies in +'black ivory.' She did not understand." + +"Just so--ah, here is the wagon." + +Fyles rose leisurely to his feet. And Money drove up. + +"The best of news, sheriff," the latter cried at once. "Captured the +lot. Some of the boys are badly damaged, but we've got 'em all." + +"Well, we'll get back with this," the officer replied quietly. + +The dead man was lifted into the wagon, and, in a few minutes, the +little party was on its way back to the ranch. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +A RETURN TO THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES + + +The affairs of the ranch were taken in hand by Fyles. Everything was +temporarily under his control, and an admirable administrator he +proved. Nor could Tresler help thinking how much better he seemed +suited by such pastoral surroundings than by the atmosphere of his +proper calling. But this appointment only lasted a week. Then the +authorities drafted a man to relieve him for the more urgent business +of the investigation into the death of the rancher and his foreman, +and the trial of the half-breed raiders captured at Widow Dangley's. + +Diane, acting on Tresler's advice, had taken up her abode with Mrs. +Doc. Osler in Forks, which good, comfortable, kind, gossipy old woman +insisted on treating her as a bereaved and ailing child, who must be +comforted and ministered to, and incidentally dosed with tonics. As a +matter of fact, Diane, though greatly shocked at the manner and +conditions of her father's death, and the discovery that he was so +terrible an outlaw, was suffering in no sense the bereavement of the +death of a parent. She was heartily glad to get away from her old +home, that had held so much unhappiness and misery for her. Later on, +when Tresler sent her word that it was imperative for him to go into +Whitewater with Fyles, that he had been summoned there as a witness, +she was still more glad that she had left it. Thanks to the influence +and consideration of Fyles, she had been spared the ordeal of the +trial in Whitewater. She had given her sworn testimony at the +preliminary inquiry on the ranch, and this had been put in as evidence +at the higher court. + +And so it was nearly a month before Tresler was free to return to +Forks. And during that time he had been kept very busy. What with the +ranch affairs, and matters of his own concerns, he had no time for +anything but brief and infrequent little notes of loving encouragement +to the waiting girl. But these messages tended otherwise than might +have been expected. The sadness that had so long been almost second +nature to the girl steadily deepened, and Mrs. Osler, ever kind and +watchful of her charge, noticed the depression settling on her, and +with motherly solicitude--she had no children of her own--insisted on +the only remedy she understood--physic. And the girl submitted to the +kindly treatment, knowing well enough that there was no physic to help +her complaint. She knew that, in spite of his tender messages and +assurances of affection, Tresler could never be anything more in her +life than he was at present. Even in death her father had carried out +his threat. She could never marry. It would be a cruel outrage on any +man. She told herself that no self-respecting man would ever marry a +girl with such a past, such parentage. + +And so she waited for her lover's return to tell him. Once she thought +of writing it, but she knew Jack too well. He would only come down to +Forks post haste, and that might upset his plans; and she had no +desire to cause him further trouble. She would tell him her decision +when he had leisure to come to her. Then she would wait for the +government orders about the ranch, and, if she were allowed to keep +it, she would sell the land as soon as possible and leave the country +forever. She felt that this course was the right one to pursue; but it +was very, very hard, and no measure of tonics could dispel the +deepening shadows which the cruelty of her lot had brought to her +young face. + +It was wonderful the kindness and sympathy extended to her in that +rough settlement. There was not a man or woman, especially the men, +who did not do all in his or her power to make her forget her +troubles. No one ever alluded to Mosquito Bend in her presence, and, +instead, assumed a rough, cheerful jocularity, which sat as awkwardly +on the majority as it well could. For most of them were illiterate, +hard-living folk, rendered desperately serious in the struggle for +existence. + +And back to this place Tresler came one day. He was a very different +man now from what he had been on his first visit. He looked about him +as he crossed the market-place. Quickly locating Doc. Osler's little +house, he smiled to himself as he thought of the girl waiting for him +there. But he kept to his course and rode straight on to Carney's +saloon. Here, as before, he dismounted. But he needed no help or +guide. He straightway hooked his horse's reins over the tie-post and +walked into the bar. + +The first man to greet him was his old acquaintance Slum Ranks. The +little man looked up at him in a speculative manner, slanting his eyes +at him in a way he remembered so well. There was no change in the +rascal's appearance. In fact, he was wearing the same clothes Tresler +had first seen him in. They were no cleaner and no dirtier. The man +seemed to have utterly stagnated since their first meeting, just as +everything else in the saloon seemed to have stagnated. There were the +same men there--one or two more besides--the same reeking atmosphere, +the same dingy hue over the whole interior. Nothing seemed changed. + +Slum's greeting was characteristic. "Wal, blind-hulks has passed--eh? +I figgered you was comin' out on top. Guess the government'll treat +you han'some." + +The butcher guffawed from his place at the bar. Tresler saw that he +was still standing with his back to it; his hands were still gripping +the moulded edge, as though he had never changed his position since +the first time he had seen him. Shaky, the carpenter, looked up from +the little side table at which he was playing "solitaire" with a +greasy pack of cards; his face still wore the puzzled look with which +he had been contemplating the maze of spots and pictures a moment +before. Those others who were new to him turned on him curiously as +they heard Slum's greeting, and Carney paused in the act of wiping a +glass, an occupation which never failed him, however bad trade might +be. + +Tresler felt that something was due to those who could display so +much interest in his return, so he walked to the bar and called for +drinks. Then he turned to Slum. + +"Well," he said, "I'm going to take up my abode here for a week or +two." + +"I'm real glad," said Ranks, his little eyes lighting up at the +prospect. He remembered how profitable this man had proved before. +"The missis'll be glad, too," he added. "I 'lows she's a far-seein' +wummin. We kep a best room fer such folk as you, now. A bran' noo iron +bed, wi' green an' red stripes, an' a washbowl goin' with it. Say, +it's a real dandy layout, an' on'y three dollars a week wi'out board. +Guess I'll git right over an' tell her to fix--eh?" + +Tresler protested and laid a detaining hand on his arm. "Don't bother. +Carney, here, is going to fix me up; aren't you, Carney?" + +"That's how," replied the saloon-keeper, with a triumphant grin at the +plausible Slum. + +"Wal, now. You plumb rattle me. To think o' your goin' over from a pal +like that," said Slum, protestingly, while the butcher guffawed and +stretched his arms further along the bar. + +"Guess he's had some," observed the carpenter, shuffling his cards +anew. "I 'lows that bed has bugs, an' the wash-bowl's mostly used +dippin' out swill," he finished up scornfully. + +Ranks eyed the sad-faced man with an unfriendly look. "Guess I never +knew you but what you was insultin', Shaky," he observed, in a tone of +pity. "Some folks is like that. Guess you git figgerin' them cards +too close. You never was bustin' wi' brains. Say, Carney," turning +back to the bar complainingly, "wher's them durned brandy 'cocks' Mr. +Tresler ordered a whiles back? You're gettin' most like a fun'ral on +an up-hill trail. Slow--eh? Guess if we're to be pizened I sez do it +quick." + +"Comin' along, Slum," replied Carney, winking knowingly to let Tresler +understand that the man's impatience was only a covering for his +discomfiture at Shaky's hands. "I've done my best to pizen you this +ten year. Guess Shaky's still pinin' fer the job o' nailin' a few +planks around you. Here you are. More comin'." + +"Who's needin' me?" asked Shaky, looking up from his cards. "Slum +Ranks?" he questioned, pausing. "Guess I've got a plank or two fit fer +him. Red pine. Burns better." + +He lit his pipe with great display and sucked at it noisily. Slum +lowered his cocktail and turned a disgusted look on him. + +"Say, go easy wi' that lucifer. Don't breathe on it, or ther' won't be +no need fer red pine fer you." + +"Gentlemen, gentlemen," cried Carney, jocosely, "the present--kep to +the present. Because Slum, here, runs a--well, a boardin' +establishment, ther' ain't no need to discuss his future so coarsely." + +"Not so much slack, Carney," said Slum, a little angrily. "Guess my +boardin' emporium's rilin' you some. You're feelin' a hur'cane; that's +wot you're feelin', I guess. Makes you sick to see folks gittin' value +fer their dollars, don't it?" + +"Good fer you, good fer you," cried the butcher, and subsided with a +loud guffaw. + +The unusual burst of speech from this man caused general surprise. The +entire company paused to stare at the shining, grinning face. + +"Sail in, Slum," said a lean man Tresler had heard addressed as +"Sawny" Martin. "I allus sez as you've got a dead eye fer the +tack-head ev'ry time. But go easy, or the boss'll bar you on the +slate." + +"Don't owe him nuthin'," growled Slum. + +"Which ain't or'nary in this company," observed the smiling Carney; he +loved to get Slum angry. "Say, Shaky," he went on, "how do Slum fix +you in his--hotel? You don't seem bustin' wi' vittals." + +"Might do wuss," responded the carpenter, sorrowfully. "But, y' see, I +stan' in wi' Doc. Osler, an' he physics me reg'lar." + +Everybody laughed with the butcher this time. + +"Say, you gorl-durned 'fun'ral boards,' you're gittin' kind o' fresh, +but I'd bet a greenback to a last year's corn-shuck you don't quit +ther' an' come grazin' around Carney's pastures, long as my missis +does the cookin'." + +"I 'lows your missis ken cook," said Shaky, with enthusiasm. "The +feller as sez she can't lies. But wi' her, my respec' fer your hog-pen +ends. I guess this argyment is closed fer va-cation. Who's fer +'draw'?" + +Slum turned back to the bar. "Here, Carney," he said, planking out a +ten-dollar bill, "hand over chips to that. We're losin' blessed hours +gassin'. I'm goin' fer a hand at 'draw.' An' say, give us a new deck +o' cards. Guess them o' Shaky's needs curry-combin' some. Mr. +Tresler," he went on, turning to his old boarder, "mebbe I owe you +some. Have you a notion?" + +"No thanks, Slum," replied Tresler, decidedly. "I'm getting an old +hand now." + +"Ah!" + +And the little man moved off with a thoughtful smile on his rutted, +mahogany features. + +Tresler watched these men take their seats for the game. Their recent +bickering was wholly forgotten in the ruling passion for "draw." And +what a game it was! Each man, ignorant, uncultured in all else, was a +past master at poker--an artist. The baser instincts of the game +appealed to the uppermost sides of their natures. They were there to +best each other by any manner of trickery. Each man understood that +his neighbor was doing all he knew, nor did he resent it. Only would +he resent it should the delinquent be found out. Then there would be +real trouble. But they were all such old-time sinners. They had been +doing that sort of thing for years, and would continue to do it for +years more. It was the method of their lives, and Tresler had no +opinion on the right or wrong of it. He had no right to judge them, +and, besides, he had every sympathy for them as struggling units in +Life's great battle. + +But presently he left the table, for Fyles came in, and he had been +waiting for him. But the sheriff came by himself, and Tresler asked +him the reason. + +"Well, you see, Nelson is outside, Tresler," the burly man said, with +something like a smile. "He wouldn't come in. Shall we go out to him?" + +The other assented, and they passed out. Joe was sitting on his +buckskin pony, gazing at the saloon with an infinite longing in his +old eyes. + +"Why are you sitting there?" Tresler asked at once. Then he regretted +his question. + +"Wal," Joe drawled, without the least hesitation, "I'm figgerin' you +oughter know by this time. Ther's things born to live on liquid, an' +they've mostly growed tails. Guess I ain't growed that--yet. Mebbe +I'll git down at Doc. Osler's. An' I'll git on agin right ther'," he +added, as an afterthought. + +Joe smiled as much as his twisted face would permit, but Tresler was +annoyed with himself for having forced such a confession from him. + +"Well, I'm sorry I suggested it, Joe," he said quickly; "as you say, I +ought to have known better. Never mind, I want you to do me a favor." + +"Name it, an' I'll do it if I bust." + +The little man brightened at the thought of this man asking a favor of +him. + +Tresler didn't respond at once. He didn't want to put the matter too +bluntly. He didn't want to let Joe feel that he regarded him as a +subordinate. + +"Well, you see, I'm looking for some one of good experience to give me +some friendly help. You see, I've bought a nice place, and--well, in +fact, I'm setting up ranching on my own, and I want you to come and +help me with it. That's all." + +Joe looked out over the market-place, he looked away at the distant +hills, his eyes turned on Doc. Osler's house; he cleared his throat +and screwed his face into the most weird shape. His eyes sought the +door of the saloon and finally came back to Tresler. He swallowed two +or three times, then suddenly thrust out his hand as though he were +going to strike his benefactor. + +"Shake," he muttered hoarsely. + +And Tresler gripped the proffered hand. "And perhaps you'll have that +flower-garden, Joe," he said, "without the weeds." + +"Mr. Tresler, sir, shake agin." + +"Never mind the 'mister' or the 'sir,'" said Tresler. "We are old +friends. Now, Fyles," he went on, turning to the officer, who had been +looking on as an interested spectator, "have you any news for Miss +Marbolt?" + +"Yes, the decision's made. I've got the document here in my pocket." + +"Good. But don't tell it me. Give me an hour's start of you. I'm going +to see the lady myself. And, Joe," Tresler looked up into the old +man's beaming face. "Will you come with the sheriff when he +interviews--er--our client?" + +"All right, Mis----" + +"No." + +"Tresler, si----" + +"No." + +"All right, Tresler," said the old man, in a strangely husky voice. + + * * * * * + +Diane was confronting her lover for the last interview. Mrs. Osler had +discreetly left them, and now they were sitting in the diminutive +parlor, the man, at the girl's expressed wish, sitting as far from her +as the size of the room would permit. All his cheeriness had deserted +him and a decided frown marred the open frankness of his face. + +Diane, herself, looked a little older than when we saw her last at the +ranch. The dark shadows round her pretty eyes were darker, and her +face looked thinner and paler, while her eyes shone with a feverish +brightness. + +"You overruled my decision once, Jack," she was saying in a low tone +that she had difficulty in keeping steady, "but this time it must not +be." + +"Well, look here, Danny, I can give you just an hour in which to ease +your mind, but I tell you candidly, after that you'll have to say +'yes,' in spite of all your objections. So fire away. Here's the +watch. I'm going to time you." + +Tresler spoke lightly and finished up with a laugh. But he didn't feel +like laughter. This objection came as a shock to him. He had pictured +such a different meeting. + +Diane shook her head. "I can say all I have to say in less time than +that, Jack. Promise me that you will not misunderstand me. You know my +heart, dear. It is all yours, but, but--Jack, I did not tell all I +knew at the inquest." + +She paused, but Tresler made no offer to help her out. "I knew father +could see at night. He was what Mr. Osler calls a--Nyc--Nyctalops. +That's it. It's some strange disease and not real blindness at all, as +far as I can make out. He simply couldn't see in daylight because +there was something about his eyes which let in so much light, that +all sense of vision was paralyzed, and at such time he suffered +intense pain. But when evening came, in the moonlight, or late +twilight; in fact at any time when there was no glare of light, just a +soft radiance, he could not only see but was possessed of peculiarly +acute vision. How he kept his secret for so many years I don't know. I +understand why he did, but, even now, I cannot understand what drove +him to commit the dreadful deeds he did, so wealthy and all as he +was." + +Tresler thought he could guess pretty closely. But he waited for her +to go on. + +"Jack, I discovered that he could see at night when you were ill, just +before you recovered consciousness," she went on, in a solemn, +awestruck tone. + +"Ah!" + +"Yes, while you were lying there insensible you narrowly escaped being +murdered." + +Again she paused, and shuddered visibly. + +"I was afraid of something. His conduct when you were brought in +warned me. He seemed to resent your existence; he certainly resented +your being in the house, but most of all my attendance on you. I was +very watchful, but the strain was too much, and, one night, feeling +that the danger of sleep for me was very real, I barricaded the +stairs. I did my utmost to keep awake, but foolishly sat down on my +own bed and fell asleep. Then I awoke with a start; I can't say what +woke me. Anyway, realizing I had slept, I became alarmed for you. I +picked up the light and went out into the hall, where I found my +barricade removed----" + +"Yes, and your father at my bedside, with his hands at my throat." + +"Loosening the bandage." + +"To?" + +"To open the wound and let you bleed to death." + +"I see. Yes, I remember. I dreamt the whole scene, except the bandage +business. But you----" + +"I had the lighted lamp, and the moment its light flashed on him he +was as--as blind as a bat. His hands moved about your bandage fumbling +and uncertain. Yes, he was blind enough then. I believe he would have +attacked me, only I threatened him with the lamp, and with calling for +help." + +"Brave little woman--yes, I remember your words. They were in my +dream. And that's how you knew what to do later on when Jake and +he----" + +The girl nodded. + +"So Fyles was right," Tresler went on musingly. "You did know." + +"Was I wrong, Jack, in not telling them at the inquest? You see he is +dead, and----" + +"On the contrary, you were right. It would have done no manner of +good. You might have told me, though." + +"Well, I didn't know what to do," the girl said, a little helplessly. +"You see I never thought of cattle-stealing. It never entered my head +that he was, or could be, Red Mask. I only looked upon it as a +villainous attempt on your life, which would not be likely to occur +again, and which it would serve no purpose to tell you of. Besides, +the horror----" + +"Yes, I see. Perhaps you were right. It would have put us on the right +track though, as, later on, the fight with Jake and your action with +regard to it did. Never mind; that's over. Julian Marbolt was an utter +villain from the start. You may as well know that his trading in +'black ivory' was another name for slave-trading. His blindness had +nothing to do with driving him to crime, nor had your mother's doings. +He was a rogue before. His blindness only enabled him to play a deeper +game, which was a matter likely to appeal to his nature. However, +nothing can be altered by discussing him. I have bought a ranch +adjoining Mosquito Bend, and secured Joe's assistance as foreman. I +have given out contracts for rebuilding the house; also, I've sent +orders east for furnishings. I am going to buy my stock at the fall +round-up. All I want now is for you to say when you will marry me, +sweetheart." + +"But, Jack, you don't seem to understand. I can't marry you. Father +was a--a murderer." + +"I don't care what he was, Danny. It doesn't make the least difference +to me. I'm not marrying your father." + +Diane was distressed. The lightness of his treatment of the subject +bothered her. But she was in deadly earnest. + +"But, Jack, think of the disgrace! Your people! All the folk about +here!" + +"Now don't let us be silly, Danny," Tresler said, coming over to the +girl's side and taking possession of her forcibly. In spite of protest +his arm slipped round her waist, and he drew her to him and kissed her +tenderly. "My people are not marrying you. Nor are the folk--who, by +the way, can't, and have no desire to throw stones--doing so either. +Now, you saved my life twice; once through your gentle nursing, once +through your bravery. And I tell you no one has the right to save life +and then proceed to do all in their power to make that life a burden +to the miserable wretch on whom they've lavished such care. That would +be a vile and unwomanly action, and quite foreign to your gentle +heart. Sweetheart," he went on, kissing her again, "you must complete +the good work. I am anything but well yet. In fact I am so weak that +any shock might cause a relapse. In short, there is only one thing, as +far as I can see, to save me from a horrid death--consumption or +colic, or some fell disease--and that's marriage. I know you must be +bored to death by----No," as the girl tried to stop him, "don't +interrupt, you must know all the fearsome truth--a sort of chronic +invalid, but if you don't marry me, well, I'll get Joe to bury me +somewhere at the crossroads. Look at all the money I've spent in +getting our home together. Think of it, Danny; our home! And old Joe +to help us. And----" + +"Oh, stop, stop, or you'll make me----" + +"Marry me. Just exactly what I intend, darling. Now, seriously, let's +forget the old past; Jake, your father, Anton, all of them--except +Arizona." + +Diane nestled closer to him in spite of her protests. There was +something so strong, reliant, masterful about her Jack that made him +irresistible to her. She knew she was wrong in allowing herself to +think like this at such a moment, but, after all, she was a weak, +loving woman, fighting in what she conceived to be the cause of right. +If she found that her heart, so long starved of affection, overcame +her sense of duty, was there much blame? Tresler felt the gentle +clinging movement, and pressed her for her answer at once. + +"Time's nearly up, dearest. See through that window, Fyles and Joe are +coming over to you. Is it marry, or am I to go to the Arctic regions +fishing for polar bears without an overcoat? I don't care which it +is--I mean--no. Yes, quick! They're on the verandah." + +The girl nodded. "Yes," she said, so low that his face came in contact +with hers in his effort to hear, and stayed there until the burly +sheriff knocked at the door. + +He entered, followed by Joe. Tresler and Diane were standing side by +side. He was still holding her hand. + +"Fyles," Tresler said at once, beaming upon both men, "let me present +you to the future Mrs. John Tresler. Joe," he added, turning on the +little man who was twisting his slouch hat up unmercifully in his +nervous hand, and grinning ferociously, "are the corrals prepared, and +have you got my branding-irons ready? You see I've rounded her up." + +The little man grinned worse than ever, and appeared to be in imminent +peril of extending his torn mouth into the region of his ear. Diane +listened to the horrible suggestion without misgiving, merely +remarking in true wifely fashion-- + +"Don't be absurd, Jack!" + +At which Fyles smiled with appreciation. Then he coughed to bring them +to seriousness, and produced an official envelope from his tunic +pocket. + +"I've just brought you the verdict on your property, Miss Marbolt," he +said deliberately. "Shall I read it to you, or would you----?" + +"Never mind the reading," said Diane impulsively. "Tell me the +contents." + +"Well, I confess it's better so. The legal terms are confusing," said +the officer emphatically. "You can read them later. I don't guess the +government could have acted better by you than they've done. The +property,"--he was careful to avoid the rancher's name--"the property +is to remain yours, with this proviso. An inquiry has been arranged +for, into all claims for property lost during the last ten years in +the district. And all approved claims will have to be settled out of +the estate. Five years is the time allowed for all such claims to be +put forward. After that everything reverts to you." + +Diane turned to her lover the moment the officer had finished +speaking. + +"And, Jack, when that time comes we'll sell it all and give the money +to charity, and just live on in our own little home." + +"Done!" exclaimed Tresler. And seizing her in his arms he picked her +up and gave her a resounding kiss. The action caused the sheriff to +cough loudly, while Joe flung his hat fiercely to the ground, and in a +voice of wildest excitement, shouted-- + +"Gee, but I want to holler!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +ARIZONA + + +When winter comes in Canada it shuts down with no uncertainty. The +snow settles and remains. The sun shines, but without warmth. The +still air bites through any clothing but furs, moccasins, or +felt-lined overshoes. The farmers hug the shelter of their houses, and +only that work which is known as "doing the chores" receives attention +when once winter sets its seal upon the land. Little traffic passes +over the drifted trails now; a horseman upon a social visit bent, a +bobsleigh loaded with cord-wood for the wood-stoves at home, a cutter, +drawn by a rattling team of young bronchos, as rancher and wife seek +the alluring stores of some distant city to make their household +purchases, even an occasional "jumper," one of those low-built, +red-painted, one-horsed sleighs, which resemble nothing so much as a +packing-case with a pair of shafts attached. But these are all; for +work has practically ceased in the agricultural regions, and a period +of hibernation has begun, when, like the dormouse, rancher and farmer +alike pass their slack time in repose from the arduous labors of the +open season. + +Even the most brilliant sunlight cannot cheer the mournful outlook to +any great extent. Out on the Edmonton trail, hundreds of miles to the +north of Forks, at the crossroads where the Battule trail branches to +the east, the cheerless prospect is intensified by the skeleton arms +of a snow-crowned bluff. The shelter of trees is no longer a shelter +against the wind, which now comes shrieking through the leafless +branches and drives out any benighted creature foolish enough to seek +its protection against the winter storm. But in winter the crossroads +are usually deserted. + +Contrary to custom, however, it is evident that a horseman has +recently visited the bluff. For there are hoof-prints on one of the +crossing trails; on the trail which comes from somewhere in the south. +The marks are sharp indentations and look fresh, but they terminate as +the crossing is reached. Here they have turned off into the bush and +are lost to view. The matter is somewhat incomprehensible. + +But there is something still more incomprehensible about the desolate +place. Just beyond where the hoof-prints turn off a lightning-stricken +pine tree stands alone, bare and blackened by the fiery ordeal through +which it has passed, and, resting in the fork of one of its shriveled +branches, about the height of a horseman's head, is a board--a black +board, black as is the tree-trunk which supports it. + +As we draw nearer to ascertain the object of so strange a phenomenon +on a prairie trail we learn that some one has inscribed a message to +those who may arrive at the crossing. A message of strange meaning and +obscure. The characters are laboriously executed in chalk, and have +been emphasized with repeated markings and an attempt at block +capitals. Also there is a hand sketched roughly upon the board, with +an outstretched finger pointing vaguely somewhere in the direction of +the trail which leads to Battule. + + "_This is the One-Way Trail_" + +We read this and glance at the pointing finger which is so shaky of +outline, and our first inclination is to laugh. But somehow before the +laugh has well matured it dies away, leaving behind it a look of +wonder not unmixed with awe. For there is something sinister in the +message, which, though we do not understand it, still has power to +move us. If we are prairie folk we shall have no inclination to laugh +at all. Rather shall we frown and edge away from the ominous black +board; and it is more than probable we shall avoid the trail +indicated, and prefer to make a detour if our destination should +chance to be Battule. + +Why is that board there? Who has set it up? And "the one-way trail" is +the trail over which there is no returning. The message is no jest. + +The coldly gleaming sun has set, and at last a horse and rider enter +the bluff. They turn off into the bush and are seen no more. The long +night passes. Dawn comes again, and, as the daylight broadens, the +horseman reappears and rides off down the trail. At evening he returns +again; disappears into the bush again; and, with daylight, rides off +again. Day after day this curious coming and going continues without +any apparent object, unless it be that the man has no place but the +skeleton bush in which to rest. And with each coming and going the +man rides slower, he lounges wearily in his saddle, and before the end +of a week looks a mere spectre of the man who first rode into the +bluff. Starvation is in the emaciated features, the brilliant feverish +eyes. His horse, too, appears little better. + +At length one evening he enters the bush, and the following dawn fails +to witness his departure. All that day there is the faint sound of a +horse moving about amongst the trees with that limping gait which +denotes the application of a knee-halter. But the man makes no sound. + +As night comes on a solitary figure may be seen seated on a horse at a +point which is sheltered from the trail by a screen of bushes. The man +sits still, silent, but drooping. His tall gaunt frame is bent almost +double over the horn of his saddle in his weakness. The horse's head +is hanging heavy with sleep, but the man's great, wild eyes are wide +open and alight with burning eagerness. The horse sleeps and +frequently has to be awakened by its rider as it stumbles beneath its +burden; but the man is as wakeful as the night-owl seeking its prey, +and the grim set of his wasted face implies a purpose no less +ruthless. + +At dawn the position is unchanged. The man still droops over his +saddle-horn, a little lower perhaps, but his general attitude is the +same. As the daylight shoots athwart the horizon and lightens the +darkness of the bush to a gray twilight the horse raises his head and +pricks up his ears. The man's eyes glance swiftly toward the south and +his alertness is intensified. + +Now the soft rustle of flurrying snow becomes audible, and the muffled +pounding of a horse's hoofs can be heard upon the trail. The look that +leaps into the waiting man's eyes tells plainly that this is what he +has so patiently awaited, that here, at last, is the key to his lonely +vigil. He draws his horse back further into the bushes and his hand +moves swiftly to one of the holsters upon his hips. His thin, drawn +features are sternly set, and the sunken eyes are lit with a deep, +hard light. + +Daylight broadens and reveals the barren surroundings; the sound draws +nearer. The silent horseman grips his gun and lays it across his lap +with his forefinger ready upon the trigger. His quick ears tell him +that the traveler has entered the bush and that he is walking his +horse. The time seems endless, while the horseman waits, but his +patience is not exhausted by any means. For more than a week, +subsisting on the barest rations which an empty pocket has driven him +to beg in that bleak country, he has looked for this meeting. + +Now, through the bushes, he sees the traveler as his horse ambles down +the trail toward him. It is a slight fur-clad figure much like his +own, but, to judge by the grim smile that passes across his gaunt +features, one which gives the waiting man eminent satisfaction. He +notes the stranger's alert movements, the quick, flashing black eyes, +the dark features, as he peers from side to side in the bush, over the +edge of the down-turned storm-collar; the legs which set so close to +the saddle, the clumsily mitted hands. Nor does he fail to observe the +uneasy looks he casts about him, and he sees that, in spite of the +solitude, the man is fearful of his surroundings. + +The stranger draws abreast of the black sign-board. His sidelong +glances cannot miss the irregular, chalked characters. His horse comes +to a dead stand opposite them, and the rider's eyes become fixed upon +the strange message. He reads; and while he reads his lips move like +one who spells out the words he sees. + +"This is the One-Way Trail," he reads. And then his eyes turn in the +direction of the pointing finger. + +He looks down the trail which leads to Battule, whither the finger is +pointing, and, looking, a strange expression creeps over his dusky +features. Instinctively, he understands that the warning is meant for +him. And, in his heart, he believes that death for him lies somewhere +out there. And yet he does not turn and flee. He simply sits looking +and thinking. + +Again, as if fascinated, his eyes wander back to the legend upon the +board and he reads and rereads the message it conveys. And all the +time he is a prey to a curious, uncertain feeling. For his mind goes +back over many scenes that do him little credit. Even to his callous +nature there is something strangely prophetic in that message, and its +effect he cannot shake off. And while he stares his dark features +change their hue, and he passes one mitted hand across his forehead. + +There is a sudden crackling of breaking brushwood within a few yards +of him; his horse bounds to one side and it is with difficulty he +retains his seat in the saddle; then he flashes a look in the +direction whence the noise proceeds, only to reel back as though to +ward off a blow. He is looking into the muzzle of a heavy "six" with +Arizona's blazing eyes running over the sight. + +The silence of the bush remained unbroken as the two men looked into +each other's faces. The gun did not belch forth its death-dealing +pellet. It was simply there, leveled, to enforce its owner's will. Its +compelling presence was a power not easily to be defied in a country +where, in those days, the surest law was carried in the holster on the +hip. The man recovered and submitted. His hands, encased in mitts, had +placed him at a woeful disadvantage. + +Arizona saw this and lowered his gun, but his eyes never lost sight of +the fur-clad hands before him. He straightened himself up in the +saddle, refusing to display any of his weakness to this man. + +"Guess I've waited fer you, 'Tough' McCulloch, fer nigh on a week," he +said slowly, in a thin, strident voice. "I've coaxed you some too, I +guess. You wus hidden mighty tight, but not jest tight 'nuff. I 'lows +I located you, an' I wa'n't goin' to lose sight o' you. When you quit +Skitter Bend, like the whipped cur you wus, I wus right hot on your +trail. An' I ain't never left it. See? Say, in all the hundreds o' +miles you've traveled sence you quit the creek ther' ain't bin a move +as you've took I ain't looked on at. I've trailed you, headed you, bin +alongside you, an' located wher' you wus makin', an' come along an' +waited on you. Ther's a score 'tween you an' me as wants squarin'. I'm +right here fer to squar' that score." + +Arizona's sombre face was unrelieved by any change of expression +while he was speaking. There was no anger in his tone; just cold, calm +purpose, and some contempt. And whatever feelings the half-breed may +have had he seemed incapable of showing them, except in the sickly hue +of his face. + +The fascination of the message on the board still seemed to attract +him, for, without heeding the other's words, he glanced over at the +seared tree-trunk and nodded at it. + +"See. Dat ting. It your work. Hah?" + +"Yes; an' I take it the meanin's clear to you. You've struck the trail +we all stan' on some time, pardner, an' that trail is mostly called +the 'One-Way Trail.' It's a slick, broad trail, an' one as is that +smooth to the foot as you're like to find anywheres. It's so dead easy +you can't help goin' on, an' you on'y larn its cussedness when you +kind o' notion gittin' back. I 'lows as one o' them glacier things on +top o' yonder mountains is li'ble to be easier climbin' nor turnin' +back on that trail. The bed o' that trail is blood, blood that's +mostly shed in crime, an' its surface is dusted wi' all manner o' +wrong doin's sech as you an' me's bin up to. Say, it ain't a long +trail, I'm guessin', neither. It's dead short, in fac' the end comes +sudden-like, an' vi'lent. But I 'lows the end ain't allus jest the +same. Sometimes y'll find a rope hangin' in the air. Sometimes ther's +a knife jabbin' around; sometimes ther's a gun wi' a light pull +waitin' handy, same as mine. But I figger all them things mean jest +'bout the same. It's death, pardner; an' it ain't easy neither. Say, +you an' me's pretty nigh that end. You 'special. Guess you're goin' to +pass over fust. Mebbe I'll pass over when I'm ready. It ain't jest +ne'sary fer the likes o' us to yarn Gospel wi' one another, but I'm +goin' to tell you somethin' as mebbe you're worritin' over jest 'bout +now. It's 'bout a feller's gal--his wife--which the same that feller +never did you no harm. But fust y'll put up them mitts o' yours, I +sees as they're gettin' oneasy, worritin' around as though they'd a +notion to git a grip on suthin'." + +The half-breed made no attempt to obey, but stared coldly into the +lean face before him. + +"Hands up!" roared Arizona, with such a dreadful change of tone that +the man's hands were thrust above his head as though a shot had struck +him. + +Arizona moved over to him and removed a heavy pistol from the man's +coat pocket, and then, having satisfied himself that he had no other +weapons concealed about him, dropped back to his original position. + +"Ah, I wus jest sayin', 'bout that feller's wife," he went on quietly. +"Say, you acted the skunk t'ward that feller. An' that feller wus me. +I don't say I wus jest a daisy husband fer that gal, but that wa'n't +your consarn. Wot's troublin' wus your monkeyin' around, waitin' so +he's out o' the way an' then vamoosin' wi' the wench an' all. Guess +I'm goin' to kill you fer that sure. But ther' ain't none o' the skunk +to me. I'm goin' to treat you as you wouldn't treat me ef I wus +settin' wher' you are, which I ain't. You're goin' to hit the One-Way +Trail. But you ken hit it like what you ain't, an' that's a man." + +Arizona's calm, judicial tone goaded his hearer. But "Tough" +McCulloch was not the man to shout. His was a deadlier composition +such as the open American hated and despised, and hardly understood. +He contented himself with a cynical remark which fired the other's +volcanic temper so that he could scarcely hold his hand. + +"Me good to her," he said, with a shrug. + +"You wus good to her, wus you? You who knew her man wus livin'! You, +as mebbe has ha'f a dozen wives livin'. You wus good to her! Wal, +you're goin' to pay now. Savee? You're goin' to pay fer your flutter +wi' chips, chips as drip wi' blood--your blood." + +The half-breed shrugged again. He was outwardly unconcerned, but +inwardly he was cursing the luck that he had been wearing mitts upon +his hands when he entered the bluff. He watched Arizona as he climbed +out of his saddle. He beheld the signs of weakness which the other +could no longer disguise, but they meant nothing to him, at least, +nothing that could serve him. He knew he must wait the cowpuncher's +pleasure; and why? The ring of white metal which marks the muzzle of a +gun has the power to hold brave man and coward alike. He dared not +move, and he was wise enough not to attempt it. + +Arizona drove his horse off into the bush, and stepped over to his +prisoner, who still remained mounted, halting abreast of the man's +stirrup and a few yards to one side of it. His features now wore the +shadow of a grim smile as he paused and looked into the face which +displayed so much assumed unconcern. + +"See this gun," he said, drawing attention to the one he held in his +right hand; "it's a forty-fi', an' I'm guessin' it's loaded in two +chambers." Then he scraped the snow off a small patch of the road with +his foot. "That gun I lay right here," he went on, stooping to deposit +it, but still keeping his eyes fixed upon the horseman. "Then I step +back, so," moving backward with long regular strides, "an' I reckon I +count fifteen paces. Then I clear another space," he added grimly, +like some fiendish conjurer describing the process of his tricks, "and +stand ready. Now, 'Tough' McCulloch, or Anton, or wotever you notion +best, skunk as you are, you're goin' to die decent. You're goin' to +die as a gentleman in a square fought duel. You're goin' to die in a +slap-up way as is a sight too good fer you, but don't go fer to make +no mistake--you're goin' to die. Yes, you're goin' to get off'n that +plug o' yours an' stand on that patch, an' I'm goin' to count three, +nice an' steady, one-two-three! Just so. An' then we're goin' to grab +up them guns an' let rip. I 'lows you'll fall first 'cause I'm goin' +to kill you--sure. Say, you'll 'blige me by gittin' off'n that plug." + +The half-breed made no move. His unconcern was leaving him under the +deliberate purpose of this man. + +"Git off o' that plug!" Arizona roared out his command with all the +force of his suppressed passion. + +The man obeyed instantly. And it was plain now that his courage was +deserting him. But in proportion his cunning rose. He made a pitiful +attempt at swagger as he walked up to his mark, and his fierce eyes +watched every movement of his opponent. And Arizona's evident +condition of starvation struck him forcibly, and the realization of +it suggested to his scheming brain a possible means of escape. + +"You mighty fine givin' chances, mister," he said, between his teeth. +"Maybe you sing different later. Bah! you make me laff. Say, I ready." + +"Yes, git right ahead an' laff," Arizona replied imperturbably. "An' +meanwhiles while you're laffin', I'll trouble you to git out o' that +sheep's hide. It ain't fit clothin' fer you noways. Howsum, it helps +to thicken your hide. Take it off." + +The half-breed obeyed and the two men now stood motionless. Arizona +was an impressive figure in that world of snow. Never before had his +personality been so marked. It may have been the purpose that moved +him that raised him to something superior to the lean, volcanic cowboy +he had hitherto been. His old slouching gait, in spite of his evident +weakness, was quite gone; his shaggy head was held erect, and he gazed +upon his enemy with eyes which the other could not face. For the time, +at least, the indelible stamp of his disastrous life was disguised by +the fire of his eyes and the set of his features. And this moral +strength he conveyed in every action in a manner which no violence, no +extent of vocabulary could have done. This man before him had robbed +him of the woman he had loved. He should die. + +His pistol was still in his hand. + +"When I say 'three,' you'll jest grab for your gun--an' fire," he said +solemnly. + +He relapsed into silence, and, after a moment's pause, slowly stooped +to deposit his weapon. His great roving eyes never relaxed their +vigilance, and all the while he watched the man before him. + +Lower he bent, and the pistol touched the ground. He straightened up +swiftly and stood ready. + +"One!" + +The half-breed started as though a sharp spasm of pain had convulsed +his body. Then he stood as if about to spring. + +"Two!" + +McCulloch moved again. He stooped with almost incredible swiftness and +seized his gun, and the next moment two loud reports rang out, and he +threw his smoking weapon upon the ground. + +Arizona had not moved, though his face had gone a shade paler. He knew +he was wounded. + +"Three!" + +The American bent and seized his gun as the other made a dash for his +horse. He stood up, and took deliberate aim. The half-breed was in the +act of swinging himself into his saddle. A shot rang out, and the +would-be fugitive's foot fell out of the stirrup, and his knees gave +under him. Another shot split the air, and, without so much as a +groan, the man fell in a heap upon the ground, while a thick red +stream flowed from a wound at his left temple. + +Then silence reigned once more. + +After a while the sound of a slouching gait disturbed the grim peace +of the lonely bluff. Arizona shuffled slowly off the road. He reached +the edge of the bush; but he went no further. For he reeled, and his +hands clasped his body somewhere about his chest. His eyes were half +closed, and his face looked ghastly in the wintry light. By a great +effort he steadied himself and abruptly sat down in the snow. He was +just off the track and his back was against a bush. + +Leaning forward he drew his knees up and clasped his arms about them, +and remained rocking himself slowly to and fro. And, as he sat, he +felt something moist and warm saturating his clothes about his chest. +Several times he nodded and his lips moved, and his eyelids fell lower +and lower until he saw nothing of what was about him. He knew it was +over for him and he was satisfied. + +He remained for some time in this attitude. Once he opened his eyes +and looked round, but, somehow, he drew no satisfaction from what he +beheld. The world about him seemed unsteady and strangely dark. The +snow was no longer white, but had turned gray, and momentarily it grew +darker. He thankfully reclosed his eyes and continued to nurse +himself. Now, too, his limbs began to grow cold, and to feel useless. +He had difficulty in keeping his hands fast about his knees, but he +felt easy, and even comfortable. There was something soothing to him +in that warm tide which he felt to be flowing from somewhere about his +chest. + +The minutes slipped away and the man's lips continued their silent +movement. Was he praying for the soul which he knew to be passing from +his body? It may have been so. It may have been that he was praying +for a girl and a man whom he had learned to love in the old days of +Mosquito Bend, and whom he was leaving behind him. This latter was +more than likely, for his was not a selfish nature. + +Again his eyes opened, and now they were quite unseeing; but the brain +behind them was still clear, for words, which were intelligible, came +slowly from his ashen lips. + +"It's over, I guess," he muttered. "Maybe life ain't wi'out gold for +some. I 'lows I ain't jest struck color right. Wal, I'm ready for the +reckonin'." + +His hands unclasped and his legs straightened themselves out. Like a +weary man seeking repose he turned over and lay with his face buried +in the snow. Nor did he move again. For Arizona had ended his journey +over the One-Way Trail. + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: + +Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise, +every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and +intent. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Night Riders, by Ridgwell Cullum + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NIGHT RIDERS *** + +***** This file should be named 29479.txt or 29479.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/4/7/29479/ + +Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +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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