Blue Lake, while but three miles farther eastward, flashed its jewelled
waters into the sun from a plane fully five hundred feet higher than the
tall chimneys of the ranch-house. About it stood the most precipitous
granite cliffs to be found hereabouts. They rose, sheer and majestic,
still another five hundred feet, here and there eight hundred and a
thousand. The lake, half a mile in diameter, circular like some polished
mirror presented by an ancient giant to his lady-love, was shut in
everywhere by these crags and cliffs save at the west, where the
overflowing water, going to swell the turbulent river, poured like molten
crystal through a wide gorge. The farther cliffs marked the eastern
boundary-line of the ranch. Beyond them lay a small plateau rimmed about
on three sides by still other steep precipices.
Lee, coming to the water's edge sought to guess where the old Indian
Trail came down. And again, startling him for a second time, Judith rode
up.
She, too, had a fresh horse; she too now carried a rifle across her arm.
Bud Lee frowned.
"What makes you so certain, Bud Lee," was her abrupt word of greeting,
"that Bayne Trevors is back of this deal?"
"When did I say that?" he countered.
"Yesterday, when I told you Charlie Miller had been held up, you
intimated that a long-headed man had planned the whole thing. That means
Trevors, doesn't it?"
"One of us," said Lee calmly, ignoring her question and looking her
straight in the eyes, "is going back. Which one?"
"Neither!" she retorted promptly. She even smiled confidently at him.
"For I won't. And you won't."
"Do you need to be told," he asked her coolly, "that this is no sort of
job for a girl? You'd only be in the way."
"If you want glittering generalities," she jeered at him, "then listen to
this: A man's job, first, last, and all the time, is to be chivalrous to
a woman! And not a bumptious boor!"
With that she spurred by him, taking the trail which led off to the right
and so under the cliffs and to the mouth of a great, ragged chasm. In
spite of him, Bud Lee grinned after her. And, seeing that she was not to
be turned back, he followed.
They left their horses and followed the old footpath, made their way into
the chasm deeper and deeper and little by little climbed upward. The
climb was less difficult than it looked, and fifteen minutes brought them
to the upland plateau and to the door of an old cabin, made of logs, set
back in a tiny grove of cedars.
"I haven't been here for a year," cried the girl, forgetful of the
constraint which had held them until now. "It's like getting back home
for the first time! I love it."
"So do I," Lee said within himself.
"Look!" exclaimed Judith. "Some one has been repairing the old cabin!
He's made a bench yonder under the big tree, too. And he has walled in
the spring with rocks, and . . . Who in the world can it be? There's
even a little garden of wild flowers!"
Bud Lee, for no reason clear to himself, flushed. He offered no
explanation at first. Here he spent many an hour when the time was his
for idling, lying on the grass, looking out over the immensity of the
wilderness; here he came many a night to sleep under the stars, far from
the other boys, when his soul craved solitude; here upon many a Sunday,
when work was slack, did he come to smoke alone, loaf alone, read from
the few books on the cabin's shelves.
"Maybe," he suggested at last, when it was clear that Judith was going
straight to the door, "this is where our stick-up gents hang out. Choice
place for a cutthroat to hibernate, huh?"
"I don't believe it," answered Judith positively. "The man who made his
hermitage here has a soul!"
Behind her back Lee smiled.
"We've got something to do," he said hastily, "without wasting time
poking into old shacks. Where's the Indian Trail you talked about?"
"Shack!" cried Judith indignantly. "You make me sick. Bud Lee! I'd
rather own this cabin and live here, than have a palace on Fifth Avenue!"
She knocked at the door, knowing that silence would answer her, but
hoping to have a man, calm-eyed, gentle-voiced, a romantic hermit in all
of his picturesqueness, come to the door.
"Going in?" asked Lee in well-simulated carelessness.
"No," she told him freezingly. "Why should I? Would you want people
poking about into your home just because it was in the heart of the
wilderness and you weren't there to drive them out?"
"No," answered Bud gravely. "Now that you ask me, I wouldn't! Let's go
find that trail."
"But," continued Judith, "not being a fool, and realizing that one of the
men we want might possibly be in hiding in here, I am going to peek in."
"Not being a fool," he repeated after her, adding gently, "and being a
girl, which means filled with curiosity."
A disdainful shoulder gave him his answer. The door was unlocked, after
immemorial Western custom, and Judith opened it. Lee heard her little
gasp of pure delight.
"He's a dear, the man who lives here!" she announced positively. "You
can just tell by looking at his home."
Looking in over her shoulder, Bud Lee wondered just what in his one-room
shanty had caught her enthusiasm. He was secretly pleased that it had
done so, though that "it" was somewhat vague in his masculine mind.
There was the rock fireplace with an iron hook protruding from each side
for coffee-pot and stew-pot; a bunk with a blanket smoothed over
cedar-boughs; a shelf with a dozen books; little else, so far as he could
see or remember, to catch at Judith's delight. Yet she, looking through
woman's eyes, read in one quick "peek" the character of the dweller in
this abode. One who was content with little, who loved a clean, outdoor
life, and who was tranquilly above the pettiness of humanity. Judith
closed the door softly.
"I'd like to look inside his books!" she confessed. "But I won't."
The lean horse foreman chuckled. Judith sniffed at him.
"You haven't any curiosity about such things as books," she retorted.
"To be sure, why should you have?"
Again, leaving the cabin, she went before him. Going straight across the
plateau, she showed him where one could clamber up a steep way to the
ridge. Once up there, it was but ten minutes until, in a hollow, they
found the monument marking a trail, a stone set upon a boulder.
It was after five o'clock. When, following the trail back and forth in
its winding along the side of the ridge, they found the signs they
sought, it was fast growing dark. But there, in a narrow defile where
loose soil had filtered down, were tracks left by a large boot. Lee went
down on his hands and knees to study them in the dusk. He got up with a
little grunt and moved down the trail. Again he found tracks, this time
more clearly defined. So dark was it now that they had lighted several
matches.
"Two men," he announced wonderingly. "Fresh tracks, too. Made this
morning or last night, I'll bet. One coming east from Indian Head. The
other coming west from the plateau behind us. Who's _he_? Where'd he
come from?"
"He's the second of the two men who shot at you," said Judith quickly.
"Don't I know every trail in this neck of the woods, Bud Lee? He
followed another old, worn-out trail on the south side of the ranch.
They met here just as I knew they would!"
"What for?" Lee frowned through the darkness at her eager face. "What
would they want to get together for? If they had any sense they would
scatter and clean out of the country."
"Unless," Judith reminded him, "they don't intend to clean out at all!
Unless they mean to stick to the cliffs and try their hands again at
their sort of game. They'll figure that we will expect them to be a long
way from here by now, won't they? Then where would they be safer than
right here in these mountains? Give me a rifle and something to eat and
I'll defy an army getting me out there. And think of it: If this is
Trevors's work, if he means business, think what two gunmen on these
heights could do to us. They could pick off a three-thousand-dollar
stallion down in the pens; they could drop more than one prize bull or
cow; and," she added sharply, "if they thought about girls as some men
think, they could take a chance on scaring Judith Sanford out of the
country."
Lee stared at her a long time in silence.
"I wouldn't have said," he offered finally, "that Bayne Trevors would
make quite so strong a play as that."
"You wouldn't! Then look him in the eye! And where's his risk, if he's
picked the right men, if he sees them through, keeping the back door open
when they want to run for it? You just gamble your boots, Bud Lee, that
Bayne Trevors . . ."
Without warning, without a sound of explosion came a wiry whine into the
still air, a little venomous ping, and a bullet sped by just over their
heads. But, through the gloom, they both saw the flash of the gun as it
spat fire and lead, and, as though one impulse commanded them, Judith's
rifle and Bud Lee's went to their shoulders and two reverberating reports
rang out in answer.
"Lie down, damn it!" cried Bud Lee to the girl at his side, as again
there came the flash from the cliffs off to the right and as again he
answered it with his rifle.
"Lie down yourself!" snapped Judith. And once more her rifle spoke with
his.
For one instant, framed against the darkening sky along the cliff edge
five hundred yards away to the right, they saw the silhouette of a man,
leaping from one boulder to another, a man who looked gigantically big in
the uncertain light. They fired; he jumped again and passed out of sight.
"Got his nerve," grunted Lee as he pumped lead at the running figure.
As an answer there came the third flash, the bullet striking the trail in
front of them. And then the fourth flash, from a point a hundred yards
to the left of the other.
"That's Number Two," muttered Lee. "They've got us in the open,
Judith. Let's beat it back to the cabin."
"I'm with you," said Judith, between shots. "It's just
foolishness" . . . _bang_! . . . "sticking out here" . . . _bang_! . . .
"for them to pop us off." _Bang_! _Bang_!
They ran then, Bud slipping in front of her, his tall body looming darkly
between her and the cliffs whence the shots came. He slid along the
sharp slope to the plateau, putting out his arms toward her. And as she
came down, Bud Lee grunted and cursed under his breath. For there had
been another flash out of the thickening night, this one from the refuge
toward which they were running. A third man was shooting from the
shelter of the cabin walls. And Lee had felt a stinging pain as though a
hot iron had scorched its way along the side of his leg.
"Hurt much?" asked Judith quickly. Without waiting for an answer, she
pumped two shots at the flash by the cabin.
"No," grunted Lee. "Just scared. And now what? I want to know."