THE RESCUE PARTY
Scott was up early the next morning in spite of his strenuous efforts of
the day before and Mr. Ramsey met him at the breakfast table.
“Wife’s away on a visit,” Mr. Ramsey explained, “so I thought I would
wait for you and get the story before you had worn it out telling it to
these curiosity mongers around here.”
Scott told him the whole tale, including Dugan’s visit to the cabin the
night before he left for the dam. The supervisor listened silently with
frowning face. “Sort of a close corporation,” he remarked when Scott had
finished. “It is certainly remarkable the way you have rounded the whole
gang up. It has not been all luck as you say; you have shown very good
judgment and done some hard work on it. That ought to put a stop to the
monkey business around here for a while. We’ll just keep all this
information about the graft in the service to ourselves for a while. We
are well rid of Dugan and Jed and it will not be much of a trick to
dispose of Benson. I think I shall let him stay in the office till it
comes time for an investigation and then spring it on him.
“Dawson is the only one that worries me. I believe there is a lot of
truth in the story he told you up at the dam. He has made us a mighty
good man with the single exception of this dirty business deal in this
district of yours, and he certainly has plenty of ability. I have never
heard of a smoother scheme than the one he worked. He is more than half
right in the argument he put up to you, too. If he really wants to put
up a fight, as he probably will, it will be mighty hard to prove the
charges against him; especially now that Jed and Dugan are out of it. I
am not all sure we can nail him.”
“Yes,” Scott admitted, “I was counting on Jed pretty strong. It will not
be so easy without him and yet I think that I can make out a fairly
strong case.”
“Think you are not too stiff to ride back up there to the dam to-day?”
Mr. Ramsey asked.
“I can make it all right if Jed can travel,” Scott said.
“Oh, he’s all right. I was out there to see him this morning and he has
forgotten all about it. He is certainly a wonderful horse. Well, then,
we’ll take a couple of the boys from here, including a doctor, and start
in about half an hour.”
The supervisor went to make his preparations for the trip and Scott
hurried out to the stable to see Jed. As Mr. Ramsey had said, he seemed
to have forgotten all about it and was all ready to start out again.
Scott rubbed him down thoroughly and rode out to meet the supervisor.
Jed was a little stiff at first but soon limbered up and insisted on
leading the procession.
The mighty flood which had roared so furiously in the cañon up on the
mountain had not reached the town at all. It had overflowed the river
channel for a short distance but had already receded within its banks.
The first ranch above the town had not been touched; the next two or
three had been flooded but the water had not gotten into the houses and
no damage had been done. In the case of the last two up near the mouth
of the cañon it was a different story. Everything movable had been
washed away and Bronson’s house had been carried from the foundation and
was lying on its side far out in the meadow. But no lives had been lost
and all the stock had been saved. The settlers considered themselves
lucky to have escaped as they did and were very grateful to Scott for
the ample warning he had given them.
As they proceeded up the valley the ravages of the flood became more
evident. There was a considerable volume of water still coming down the
stream bed but the flood was over. It was not till they reached the turn
in the valley below the lookout station that the full fury of the
rushing water was apparent. The violence of the torrent had carried the
water high up on the slope toward the lookout tower and had gouged an
enormous pit out of the side of the mountain.
From there on the whole cañon was a total wreck. Not only were all
traces of the trail wiped out but the gorge was swept clean. Trees had
been torn up by the roots and carried away. What little soil there had
been between the rocks was gone and the horses scrambled over slippery
beds of smooth, bare rock. An eighth of a mile below the dam they found
great chunks of the mason work which had been carried there on the crest
of the flood. They began to worry about the safety of the cabin.
The meadow looked more familiar than anything else they had seen. The
deep sod alone of all the vegetation in the path of the water had held
its own. It was scattered with great chunks of mason work and bowlders
and the grass was badly clawed by the wash of the water but it was green
and triumphant.
As they rounded the shoulder of rock which hid the view of the dam they
heaved a sigh of relief. The west end of the dam, with the little cabin
almost on the jagged end of it, was safe. The central portion of the dam
was gone completely. Only the encircling crags and mountain peaks looked
serenely down on the wreck unchanged. They might wear away eventually
but they could withstand many a worse storm than that without showing
it.
They hurried to the cabin in search of Dawson. The silence of the place
seemed ominous. They found Dawson but he was unconscious and delirious.
The suffering and exposure of the day before, the fright of Jed’s visit
to the cabin and the terrible strain of lying helpless on the very verge
of that crumbling dam had been too much for him. In addition to all that
the doctor found that he had received a severe blow on the back of the
head when he fell. The doctor decided that it would be better to keep
him there at the cabin than to try to take him down that slippery trail
on a litter and volunteered to stay there and nurse him. It looked as
though it would be a close pinch even at that.
Scott explained the situation which had led up to the breaking of the
dam and they started back for Benny’s. They spread out across the cañon
as far as the water had reached and searched every rock and cranny. It
was over a quarter of a mile below the dam that they found what they
were looking for. High up on the side of the cañon, at the highest point
reached by the water, they found the bodies of Dugan and Jed Clark
almost locked in each other’s arms. It looked as though they had
discovered the horrible mistake they had made and were trying to make up
for it. The men made litters to carry the bodies down to Benny’s where
they planned to spend the night. Scott and Mr. Ramsey rode on back to
town.
Mr. Ramsey was worried. He wanted to have the investigation and clean
out the remnants of the whole ring. This could not be done very well
till Dawson was able to be present. It would not be fair to him to have
the trial without giving him a chance to defend himself. Moreover, the
evidence against him was almost wholly circumstantial and the supervisor
doubted very much whether they would be able to convict him on it if he
wanted to put up a fight. Knowing Dawson as well as he did he had no
doubt about his putting up a fight as long as there was a ghost of a
show to win. He had covered up his tracks so carefully that it looked
like a very hard thing to prove anything on him. Scott still thought
that he could put up a strong case but he did not have any absolute
proof.
So the two rode along together in comparative silence, each one worrying
over the same problem in his own way. When they rode out of the cañon
into the main valley they discovered quite a crowd around the Bronson
home. The ranchers from all along the valley had assembled there to try
to help Mr. Bronson put his house back on the foundation. These
stout-hearted fellows were not in the least discouraged by the
catastrophe which had overtaken them. Bronson had suffered more than the
others and for that reason they had chosen to help him first. The others
had already moved their families back into their homes and the wives
were busy cleaning up for a fresh start.
They stopped to speak to the men, and, just as they were leaving, Mr.
Bronson led the supervisor aside. “Are you going to be in your office
to-morrow morning, Mr. Ramsey?”
“Yes, I expect to be.”
“Me and the rest of the boys have something we want to talk over with
you, if you’ll have the time.”
“Come right ahead,” Mr. Ramsey urged. He was always glad of an
opportunity to coöperate with the settlers in any way and was very
popular with them on that account.
“Better come over first thing in the morning,” Mr. Ramsey called to
Scott as they parted in town, “I want to go over your records and the
evidence you have collected. Maybe we can get that out of the way before
those ranchers come in.”
Scott was kept busy all evening telling the story of the bursting of the
dam. Even then he did not satisfy them all and there were so many others
waiting to hear it in the morning that he was glad of the excuse to go
to the office early. He found the supervisor already there getting
together the evidence which he had on hand.
“Looks pretty good, Burton,” he said as Scott came in, “but I can’t find
a thing to prove certainly that Dawson was Jed’s partner or was even
vitally implicated in this scullduggery in any way. There is no question
about it in my mind now but there is no proof which would stand in
court.”
“I am afraid there isn’t,” Scott admitted. “I was in hopes that Jed
would turn against him, but now that he is gone I can’t think of any way
to prove it.”
Just then there was a tramping of many feet in the hall and the
delegation of small ranchers filed into the office. Wren, the big
gruff-mannered man who had threatened to thrash Scott for refusing the
invitation to dinner when he stopped there to issue a free use permit,
was the spokesman.
“I’m not going to take up much of your time,” he said in his usual rough
way. “I expect you are sort of busy trying to fix up this mess and have
mighty little time to talk about anything else. We don’t like the idea
much of jumping on a man when he is down, but we figure that if we are
going to get square with Dawson at all, now is our chance. Moreover, we
want to see that justice is done to a friend of ours.”
At the mention of getting square with Dawson, Mr. Ramsey pricked up his
ears. Possibly there was a chance here to get some evidence from a
source on which they had not counted. “If you gentlemen have any charges
to make against Dawson now is certainly the time to make them,” he said.
“Well, for the past five years he has been charging us for our free use
permits.”
“Charging you for them?” the supervisor exclaimed in amazement. “How’s
that?”
“Don’t know how to make it any plainer,” Wren answered. “Whenever we
took out a free use permit we just had to pay so much for it.”
“Why didn’t you report it? You knew perfectly well that you did not have
to pay for it.”
“Hicks thought he knew that one year and all his sheep died. ‘Loco
weed,’ Dawson said.”
“And do you mean to say that this thing has been going on regularly on
this forest for five years?”
“We never knew what it was to get a free use permit for nothing till
this young man here came around this spring. And that’s why we are here.
We heard that Dawson was trying to put the blame for those extras
getting into the forest on him and we are not going to stand for that.”
“Have you ever paid money directly to Dawson for this?” Mr. Ramsey
asked.
“Not for that, no. That was always paid to the guard or patrolman, but,”
he hesitated a moment and then continued, “I don’t suppose it is much to
our credit, but I might as well own up to it if it will help to clean
things up; I’ve paid graft money to him direct for the privilege of
running extras on the forest in addition to my free use permit. It was
our only chance to get anything for the money he gouged out of us on the
permits,” he explained.
“How about the rest of you?” the supervisor asked.
“All guilty,” responded one of the men.
“Would you be willing to testify to that in court?” the supervisor
continued.
“Sure we would. That’s what we came for.”
“Good,” Mr. Ramsey exclaimed, “that will be exactly the proof I am
looking for to convict Dawson. I felt sure that he was guilty but could
not prove it. I am not fixed to take down that evidence now but I’ll
come around to see you and get it as soon as I can. I certainly
appreciate your help. I don’t blame you any for running in your extras
under those conditions and I’ll forget it.”
“Well then,” Wren said simply, “I think we’ll be going. We have
considerable work to do cleaning up around home. Before we go we want to
thank this gentleman for the warning he gave us. We treated him pretty
shabbily when he first came and now he has paid us back by saving all
our stock for us. We feel pretty mean about it and are not ashamed to
tell him so.”
“Seems to me you have a little more than squared yourselves now,” Scott
said. “I feel as though I was considerably in your debt.”
They all shook hands with Scott cordially and filed out of the office
again.
“Things are coming our way, Burton,” Mr. Ramsey smiled. “If I could
prove that Dawson was Jed Clark’s partner now and mixed up with that big
deal I would be happy.”
“And I can settle that for you,” said a familiar voice.
They both turned quickly and Scott recognized the old gentleman whom he
had met on the train. He was standing in the doorway and smiling
pleasantly.
“I just came into the office,” he explained, “and could not help hearing
what you said.”
The supervisor rose from his chair and greeted the newcomer cordially.
“What brings you this far west, Mr. Barnes?” he asked.
“Same thing that’s troubling you now, I guess.”
“Mr. Barnes,” the supervisor said, introducing Scott, “I want you to
meet one of our new patrolmen, Mr. Burton. Mr. Barnes,” he explained to
Scott, “is one of the good sheep men.”
“I’ve met him before,” Mr. Barnes said, shaking hands. “Still looking at
the country?”
“Yes,” Scott answered, “and I find it even more interesting here than it
was from the car window.”
Mr. Barnes explained to the supervisor how he had come to be acquainted
with Scott. “Now about this partnership business. I sold a bunch of
sheep to those fellows and they have not finished paying for them. I
heard of Jed’s death and thought that I better come down here and look
into the matter. Can you tell me where I can find Dawson now? I should
like to see him to-day if possible.”
“Have you heard of the mix up we have had here?” Mr. Ramsey asked.
“No, I only heard that Jed was drowned when the dam went out.”
Mr. Ramsey explained the situation. “Now you can see why we would like
to have some proof that Dawson was really a partner of Jed’s.”
“And that, as I said before,” answered the old gentleman, “is something
which I can prove very easily. I have letters admitting the partnership
and notes signed by the two of them.”
“Then I guess that settles it. Call Benson, Burton, and I’ll finish the
job.”
“You’ll have to call pretty loud,” the old gentleman laughed; “he got on
the train when I got off.”
“Well, it’s good riddance to bad rubbish. That ought to finish up the
whole gang. I certainly will be glad to get that district clean.”
“I’ll be glad to produce that evidence any time you want it and I’ll see
you again before I leave town. Glad to see that you have made good,” he
added to Scott as he went out.
“Now,” said Mr. Ramsey when they were alone once more, “that makes
almost a perfect score for you in this business, and I don’t see any
reason why I should not recommend you for Dawson’s job on the strength
of it.”
“It is very kind of you to say so and I am certainly glad that you think
that way about it, but I would like to wait a little longer till I
really learn something about the sheep industry, and moreover I am
afraid that it would not be fair to some of the other fellows who have
worked just as hard and know a lot more about it than I do. Less than
two weeks is rather a short time in which to earn a promotion. If I was
altogether a stranger here I would like to try it and feel sure that I
could get away with it, but Baxter and some of these other fellows know
just how little I know and they would feel that I had been put over them
unjustly. It seems to me that Baxter would make a good man for the job.
I would like to serve under him as a patrolman for a few months and then
if there is a ranger’s job open anywhere I would be glad to take it and
no one would have any kick coming.”
“Some sense in that,” Mr. Ramsey agreed. “Of course Baxter is the man
who would be directly in line for the appointment if you had not done
such especially good work on this deal, and he probably would feel it if
you were jumped in ahead of him. If you feel as you say I will recommend
Baxter for the ranger’s job and send in a report of exceptional ability
and extraordinary service for you to the district office, with the
recommendation that you be given a ranger’s appointment after three
months’ apprenticeship as a patrolman here on this forest.”
“That is exactly what I would like best,” Scott said earnestly.
“All right,” Mr. Ramsey said, “then that is what I shall do at once.”
* * * * *
When Scott rode out of town the next morning he was the happiest man in
all the big Southwest. He was carrying a letter of appointment in his
pocket for Baxter, he had the assurance that a special letter of
recommendation for himself was already on the way to headquarters in
Albuquerque, and he had the satisfaction of knowing that he had come
West a tenderfoot and had made good; made good in a country where a man
is judged on what he has done.
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's Scott Burton on the Range, by Edward G. Cheyney