HIGH POWER
Jessamy and Oliver had wheeled their horses with such unexpected
suddenness that the man who was trailing them was caught off his guard.
He stood plainly revealed for a moment in the open; then he found his
wits and plunged indiscriminately into the shielding chaparral.
"Oh-ho!" cried Jessamy in a low tone. "The plot thickens! Did you see
him?"
"I'm going after him," declared her companion.
"Stop!" she commanded, as he lifted Poche for a leap toward the
skulker's vanishing point.
He reined in quickly. "Why?"
"What good will come of it? Why try to nose him out? We may be ahead in
the end if we play the game as they do. We have more chance of finding
out what they're up to by leaving them alone, I'd say."
"Play the game, eh?" he repeated. "So there's a game being played. I
didn't just know. Thought all that's afoot was the big idea of chasing
me over the hills and far away. And from Selden's latest attitude, it
looks as if that had been abandoned. Game, eh?"
"That's what I'd call it. Quite evidently the man was spying on us."
"Did you recognize him?"
"I can't make sure."
"But you think you know him," he said with conviction.
"Yes. I imagined it was Digger Foss. But he got to cover pretty
quickly."
"His horse can't be far away. Maybe we can locate him somewhere along
the back trail. I'd know that rawboned roan."
"So should I. Let's send 'em along a little faster."
They had by this time reached the opening in the chaparral into which
their shadow had dodged. By common consent they passed it without
looking to right or left.
"He may imagine we didn't see him," whispered Jessamy. "I hope he does."
There was an open stretch ahead of them, and across it they galloped,
the girl piercing the thickets on the right in search of a saddle horse,
Oliver sweeping the slopes that descended to the river. But neither saw
a horse, and in the trail were no hoofprints not made by their own
mounts.
"He has been afoot from the start," decided Jessamy. "I wish I knew
whether or not it was Digger Foss."
They wound their way down to Sulphur Spring presently, and came to a
halt in the ravine below it.
"Now," said Oliver, "who knows but that my sniper is not hidden up there
in the hills?"
"I'll look for that bullet," she purposed, and swung out of her saddle.
"Oh, no you won't!" His foot touched the ground with hers.
"Yes--listen! No one would shoot at me. But they might take another crack
at you, even with me along to witness it. If they were hidden and could
get away unseen, you know. But they'd not shoot at me."
"How do you know?"
"Well, I'm one of them--after a fashion. They all like me--and at least
one of them wants to gather me to his manly breast and fly with me."
"But things are different since I came. You've taken sides with me. If
any one looks for that slug, I'm the one that'll do it."
He started toward the spring.
"Stop!" she ordered, and grasped his shirt-sleeves. "Listen here: I'd
bet a dollar against a saddle string that that was Digger Foss we saw up
on the ridge."
"Well?"
"He's afoot. He can't have had time to get down here and guard Sulphur
Spring."
"All right. Well?"
"And I know positively that Adam Selden and the boys are up north today
after a bunch of drifters. So none of them can be here. That eliminates
six of the Poison Oakers. There would be left only Obed Pence, Ed
Buchanan, Chuck Allegan, and Jay Muenster--all privates, next to
outsiders. None of them would shoot at me, and--" She came to a full
stop and eyed him speculatively. "And I'm going to look for that
bullet," she finished limpingly.
Oliver looked her over thoughtfully. "I can't say that I get what you're
driving at at all," he observed. "But it seems to me that you're trying
to convey that, with the Seldens and Digger Foss eliminated, there is no
danger."
She closed her eyes and gave him several vigorous, exaggerated nods.
"But aren't all of the Poison Oakers concerned in my speedy removal from
this country?"
"Well--yes"--hesitatingly. "That's right. But the four will not molest
me. I know. Please let's not argue about what I _know_ is right!"
His lips twitched amusedly. "But one of the four _might_ take a pot-shot
at me. Is that it?"
Again the series of nods, eyes closed. "You see," she said, "only the
Seldens and Digger Foss accuse me of being on your side. So if any one
of the other four were to see me go to the spring he'd think I was
merely after water, or something. But if you were to go, why--why, it
might be different."
Saying which she unexpectedly darted away from him up the ravine, left
the shelter of the trees, and walked boldly to the spring.
She parted the bushes and disappeared from sight.
Oliver stole quickly to the edge of the cover and hid behind a tree, his
Colt unholstered and hanging in his hand. His eyes scoured the timbered
hills on both sides of the spring, but not a movement did he see.
He puzzled over Jessamy's speech as he watched for evidences of a
hostile demonstration.
"It smacks of a counter-plot," he mused. "All of the Poison Oakers want
me out of here, but only the Seldens and the halfbreed are aware that
Jessamy is friendly with me. But these four _must_ know it--everybody in
the country does by now. It would look as if Old Man Selden and his
chosen five are the only ones who suspect her of having an interest in
me beyond pure friendship, then. That's it! She said there was another
reason other than the grazing matter why Old Man Selden wants me away.
And that can't be moonshining, after all; for if Pense and the others
are likely to shoot me at the spring, they're in on that. But now
apparently Selden wants to appear friendly. I can't get it! Jessamy's
not playing just fair with me. She's keeping something back. She's too
honest and straightforward to be a good dissembler; she's bungling all
the way."
She was returning swiftly down the ravine before he had reached the end
of his conclusions. She held up something between dripping fingers as
she entered the concealment of the trees.
"It's perfect still," she announced. "I thought it wouldn't be flattened
or bent, since it struck the water."
Oliver took the small, soft-pointed, steel-banded projectile from her
hands and studied it.
"M'm-m!" he muttered. "What's this? Looks no larger than a twenty-two."
She nodded. "So I'd say. A twenty-two high-power--wicked little pill."
"And which of the Poison Oakers packs a twenty-two high-power rifle? Do
you know?"
"It happens that I do. I've taken the pains to acquaint myself
with the various guns of the Poison Oakers. Most of them use
twenty-five-thirty-fives. Old Man Selden, Bolar, and Jay Muenster use
thirty-thirties. There's one twenty-two high-power Savage in the gang,
and it's a new one. They say it's a devilish weapon."
"Who owns it?"
"Digger Foss."
"Then it was Foss who shot?"
"Yes--and it's he who was following us today. You see, Digger lives
closer to this part of the country than any of the rest. He'd be the
only one likely to come in afoot."
"Do you think he tried to lay me out?"
She looked off through the trees, and her face was troubled. "I'm afraid
he did," she replied in a strained, hushed key. "Had you been in sight,
we might determine that he had shot at the water before your face to put
the fear of the Poison Oakers into your heart. But he couldn't see you,
in there hidden by the dense growth. It was a fifty-fifty chance whether
he got you or not. If he'd merely wished to bully you, he'd never taken
the chance of killing you by firing into the growth."
"I guess that's right," he said. "And now what's to be done? I'll never
be able to forget the picture of Henry Dodd clutching at White Ann's
legs for support in his death struggle. The situation is graver than I
thought. I expected to be bullied and tormented; but I didn't expect a
deliberate attempt on my life."
With an impetuous movement she threw her bare forearm horizontally
against a tree trunk, and hid her eyes against it.
"Oh, I wish you hadn't come!" she half sobbed. "But you had to--you had
to! And now you can't leave because that would be running away. And
you're as good as dead if this side-winder gets the right chance at you.
What _can_ we do!"
Oliver was silent in the face of her distress. What could he do indeed!
All the chances were against him, with his enemies ready and willing to
take any unfair advantage, while his manliness would not let him stoop
to the use of such tactics. They probably would avoid an out-and-out
quarrel, where the chances would be even for a quick draw and quick
trigger work. They would ambush him, as the halfbreed had attempted to
do. He believed now that only the density of the growth about Sulphur
Spring had stood between him and death, for Digger Foss was accounted an
expert shot.
He gently pulled Jessamy Selden from the tree.
"There, there!" he soothed. "Let's not borrow trouble. They haven't got
me yet. Let's ride on. And I think you'd better give me a little more of
your confidence. I feel that you're keeping me in the dark about some
phases of the deal."
She mounted in silence, and they turned up Clinker Creek toward Oliver's
cabin.
"I'd never make a successful vamp, even if I were beautiful," she smiled
at last. "I can't hide things. I give myself away. I'm always bungling.
But I can play poker, just the same!" she added triumphantly.
"Don't try to hide things, then," he pleaded. "Tell me all that's
troubling you."
She shook her head. "That's the greatest difficulty," she complained. "I
shouldn't have let you know that I have a secret, but I bungled and let
it out. And I must keep it. But just the same, I'm with you heart and
soul. I'm on your side from start to finish, and I want you to believe
it."
"I do," he said simply.
As they reached the cabin he asked: "Did you feel the end of the pipe
under the water in the spring?"
She nodded. Then with the promise to meet him next morning for their
ride to the fiesta, she moved her mare slowly up the canyon and
disappeared in the trees.