THE TRAGEDY
--signs, which were as clear to the Indian as the words on a
printed page.
At first, when his mind was able to grasp the terrible facts of the
tragedy, Hugh Edwards nearly lost control of himself. But Natachee
steadied him. The Indian assured him with such confidence that Marta was
in no immediate danger that he took heart again.
“The girl is worth too much money to Sonora Jack for him to harm her,”
continued Natachee. “He has carried her away, yes, but remember we know
that he expects somehow to make a fortune through her. You may depend
upon it he will take every care to keep her safe.”
“But how can you know?” said Hugh, wondering at the certainty of the red
man’s words.
The Indian answered quickly:
“Because the outlaw, even in his haste, was careful to take the girl’s
things with her.” He led his companion into the girl’s room. “Look--this
closet is nearly empty. The drawers of this dresser are all pulled out
and there is almost nothing left in them. Her toilet articles even are
not here. There are no blankets left on this bed. I tell you there is
much for you to hope for yet, my friend, if you can make yourself as
cool and self-controlled as I know you are brave.”
When they had returned to the room where the old prospector lay, the
Indian, after bending over the unconscious man for a moment, turned
again to Hugh; slowly he said:
“There is no night so dark but there is a little light for those whose
eyes are good. Always one can see the mountain peaks against the sky.
The Mexican there will not talk, and I have not yet looked about outside
the house, but some things are very clear. This happened last night,
because there are still a few coals among the ashes in the kitchen stove
and the clock was wound as usual. Sonora Jack will go to Mexico--he does
not dare remain in the United States where there is a reward out for
him. At the best possible time, it will take him two days to reach the
line. He will not travel with his woman prisoner by daylight. That he
expects to lay up during the day is shown by his taking every particle
of food he could find in the house. It is not likely that he got started
before midnight. With the girl’s clothing, the bedding, the provisions,
and his own things, he must have taken a pack animal. Good! I, Natachee,
will follow a trail like that as fast as a horse can run.”
Hugh Edwards put his hand on the Indian’s arm.
“We can get horses and men at Wheeler’s,” he said quickly. “It ought not
to take an hour to raise a posse. We can telephone the sheriff from the
ranch. Come on.”
He started toward the door but the calm voice of the Indian checked him.
“You forget. This is no time for you to meet the sheriff. No one but
Doctor Burton and his mother must know of this, until you are safe out
of the country.”
“I am a fool, Natachee, I forgot. Tell me what to do.”
For a moment the Indian again bent over the unconscious man on the bed,
then he said:
“We cannot leave Thad like this. He must have a doctor. I am going to
bring the Burtons. While I am away, you must not leave the old man’s
side. He might regain consciousness for a moment and you must be ready
to hear anything that he can tell you. And keep your eye on that Mexican
snake out there in the other room. He is the kind that may try something
desperate to keep Thad from ever speaking again, for the old prospector
is the only one who can tell us exactly what happened here last night.
Do you understand?”
“I do,” returned Hugh. “You can trust me.”
A moment later the Indian was running up the cañon trail toward the
little white house on the mountain side.
Two hours later Natachee returned with Saint Jimmy and Mother Burton,
who were riding and carrying on their horses a supply of food.
While Doctor Burton with his mother and Hugh were doing all that could
be done for Thad and for the wounded Mexican, Natachee, with the
swiftness and certainty of a well-bred hunting dog, examined every foot
of the ground in the vicinity of the house, the barn and the corral.
When the Indian was satisfied that he could learn nothing more, he
climbed swiftly up the steep side of the cañon to the spot where he and
Hugh had left the four burros with their heavy loads of gold. Edwards
was just coming from the house when Natachee, leading the burros,
arrived at the gate. Together the two men took the animals with their
precious burdens down into the creek bottom and across to the Pardners’
little mine, where they hurriedly buried the sacks of gold in the dump
at the mouth of the tunnel.
And then--not far from the house, between two wide-spreading mesquite
trees, where a pair of cardinals had their nest and mocking birds loved
to swing and sing in the moonlight, where anemone and sweet peas and
evening primroses never failed to bloom, the white man and the Indian
dug a grave.
There was no time to secure a coffin. They dared not make any public
announcement now, nor wait for any formal ceremony. With tender hands
they wrapped the old-timer in his blankets and gently laid him in his
resting place. And who shall say that Mother Burton’s simple prayer was
not as potent before that One who judges not by pomp and ceremony, as
any ritual ordained by church or creed? And who shall say that the old
prospector himself would not have wished it to be done just that way? As
Saint Jimmy said gently:
“After all, it is not the first time that Bob has slept on the ground.”
While Mrs. Burton was preparing a hurried dinner, Natachee told Hugh and
Saint Jimmy the story of the tragedy, as he had read it from the tracks
about the premises--signs which were as clear to the Indian as the words
on a printed page.
“There were three of them,” said Natachee. “They came from down the
cañon. It was after everybody in the house was sleeping, because Sonora
Jack would not start from where he was hiding in his camp until after
dark. The third man was the Lizard. They left their horses and a pack
mule at the gate. The marks of the Lizard’s feet, where he dismounted,
are very clear. Jack and the Mexican went to the corner of the house
there at the back. They crouched close to the ground against the wall so
they would not be seen easily in the dark, and waited, while the Lizard
went to the barn and frightened the pinto so that the noise would waken
the Pardners and cause one of them to come out to see what was the
matter with the horse.
“Bob came out by the kitchen door and started for the barn. He did not
see the men who were behind the corner of the house. When the old
prospector was halfway to the barn, Jack and the Mexican ran upon him
from behind. Bob fought them but he had no chance. Perhaps he called to
Thad. I think not, however, from what happened in the house. Either Jack
or the Mexican killed him with a knife, because the Lizard would not
have had time to come from the barn.
“Then the Lizard went to stand guard at the front of the house to
prevent Marta from escaping by that door, and to give warning in case
any one should come. His tracks are there by the porch. The two outlaws
went into the house by the kitchen door. Thad probably had also been
awakened by the noise at the barn, and while waiting for Bob to come
back must have heard Jack and the Mexican. He was trying to prevent them
from entering Marta’s room when he shot the Mexican, and Sonora Jack
struck him down.
“The Lizard, I think, is with Jack and the girl. He seems to have turned
his own horse loose and taken the Mexican’s. Marta is riding her pinto.
They have taken the pack mule.”
As Natachee finished, Mrs. Burton called them to dinner.
While they were eating, the Indian asked the Doctor about Thad’s
condition.
“I cannot say yet, as to his complete recovery,” returned Saint Jimmy,
“but I feel reasonably sure that he will pull through all right. I am
quite certain that he will regain consciousness for a time at least. But
the Mexican has no chance. He will live for several days, perhaps, but
the end is certain.”
“Good!” said Natachee. “You and Mrs. Burton will stay here until Edwards
and I return, will you?”
“Indeed we will,” returned Mother Burton quickly.
“Good!” said the Indian again. “We should be back the morning of the
fourth day.”
He looked at Doctor Burton inquiringly.
“We will save time getting started if we take your horses. The Pardners’
horses are out on the range somewhere--and to go to Wheeler’s for help
would mean the sheriff.”
“They are yours. Take them, of course,” said Doctor Burton and his
mother in a breath.
“We will take a little food for to-night and to-morrow,” continued the
Indian, “and a canteen of water. With a little grain for the horses and
the Pardners’ guns, that will be all, except”--he smiled grimly--“my bow
and arrows.”