GUNS IN THE NIGHT
When Joe Price returned, leading Rathburn's horse which he had fed and
watered, and turned over the reins, he spoke swiftly in a low voice:
"They'll be watchin' hard for you down the canyon, boy. Bob Long's sure
to mean business this 'ere time."
"Well, I know it," said Rathburn with a low, mirthless laugh. "I
locked him in his own jail this mornin' to get a clean chance to
decide to give myself up. Then, when the chance came--well, he surely
thinks now that I put him away to cover my tracks. I expect the boys
have got their shootin' orders."
"Listen!" whispered Price excitedly. "Wait till I get my own horse,
an' I'll strike east across the hump. That'll start 'em after me
maybe--sure it will, Rathburn! They'll think I'm you, see, an' light
right out after me."
Rathburn laid one hand on the old man's shoulder and put the other
over Joe's mouth.
"Joe, you're all excited--plumb unreasonable excited. You know I
wouldn't let you do that. Now don't hand me more worries than I've
got. Be good, Joe." He patted Price's shoulder, then swung into the
saddle.
The old miner looked up at him, his face showing strangely white in
the dim starlight, pierced by the fire on the peak.
"I didn't tell 'em you'd been here, Roger; don't forget that!"
"I knew that, Joe," Rathburn chuckled. "So long."
Swiftly he rode down the little meadow below the spring into the deep
shadows of the canyon which led down a steep trail to the desert.
Presently he checked his pace until he was walking the gallant dun. He
wished to avoid as much noise as possible, and to save the horse for a
final spurt down nine miles of desert to the Mallory ranch from the
mouth of the canyon--providing he got out.
For two reasons he had deliberately chosen this route: it was
shortest, and it offered the best going. He must save the dun's
strength. Rathburn knew the limits of his splendid mount; knew they
had almost been reached; knew there was just enough left in the horse
to make the ranch without killing him. The Coyote would surrender
before he would kill his horse to effect his escape or gain an
objective!
Thus they slipped down the narrow canyon, with the desert stars
gleaming white above the lava hills of Imagination Range, while the
fire glowed on the peak above Joe Price's cabin. Rathburn's face was
pale under his tan; his thoughts were in a turmoil, but his lips were
pressed into a fine line that denoted an unwavering determination. Had
Sheriff Bob Long seen his face at this time he might have glimpsed
another angle of Rathburn's many-sided character--an angle which would
have given him pause.
Rathburn looked behind, and his eyes narrowed. Two fires were burning
on the peak.
Already the watchers were cognizant of his latest move and were
signaling to those who might be below. He wondered vaguely why they
had not surrounded Joe Price's cabin while he had been there. Then he
realized he had been there hardly long enough for his pursuers to get
there in any number. Suddenly his thoughts were broken into by a
streak of red in the canyon depths below him. He swerved close against
the rock wall, drew his gun, and, speaking to the dun, drove in his
spurs.
A short distance below he could see the faint glow of the starlight
night and knew he was near the canyon's mouth. There were more streaks
of red, and bullets whistled past him. Then Rathburn raised his gun
and sent half its deadly contents crashing down into the trail ahead.
There followed a few moments of quiet, broken only by the harsh,
ringing pound of his mount's hoofs. Rathburn could see open country
just ahead. Then a flash of fire came from almost under him, and the
big dun lunged into the air, half twisting, and came down upon some
object under its hoofs. The dun bounded on in great leaps, literally
flying through the air, as Rathburn thrilled with the knowledge that
the horse had knocked down the man who had sought to kill him.
From above came sharp reports, and the blackness of the high canyon
walls was streaked with spurts of flame. Leaden death hurled itself
into the rock trail behind him. Then he was out of the canyon, riding
like mad through the white desert night toward his goal--the Mallory
ranch!
* * * * *
Laura Mallory stood on the porch of the little ranch house, staring
out across the dimly lit spaces of desert. A worried look appeared in
her eyes. The front door was open, and in the small sitting room her
father was reading under a shaded lamp at the table. At times the
worried look in the girl's eyes would change to one of wistfulness,
and twice the tears welled.
Presently she straightened and listened intently, looking into the
south instead of northwest. Her ears, keen as are those of the desert
born, had caught a sound--a succession of faint sounds--in the still
night air. Gradually the sound became more and more distinct, and the
worried expression of her face increased. She hurried into the sitting
room.
"Father, Fred Doane is coming out from town," she said breathlessly.
"Do you suppose they've got him?"
"Maybe so, girlie," said the old man. "It was a bold business, an'
what could you expect?"
"Oh, I don't know. I can't seem to understand. All this trouble is
coming so suddenly. Father, are you sure you heard Roger refuse to aid
that man Eagen in some shady scheme last night?"
"Ab-so-lutely," declared Mallory. "I've been wondering, daughter, if
he didn't turn Eagen down because he had this scheme of his own."
The purr of a motor came to them from outside, and Laura, hastily
wiping her eyes with a small handkerchief, went slowly out.
"Laura!" cried Fred Doane, as he came up the steps, holding out his
hands.
"What--what is it, Fred?" she faltered. "Have they caught----"
"Not yet," said Doane briskly, as Mallory appeared in the door. "An'
they probably won't get him. He's clever, that fellow."
The bank cashier indulged in a frown, but he was plainly nervous.
"Then what news do you bring here?" Mallory demanded. "Did you come to
tell us he'd got away clean?"
"Why, not--not exactly," said Doane. "I meant to tell you that, of
course, but I also want to have a little talk with Laura. Can I see
you alone, Laura, for a few minutes?"
"Oh, _that's_ it," snorted Mallory, as he stamped back into the
house.
"You have something to tell me you don't want father to hear?" asked
the girl in a worried voice.
"Laura, there's something I must tell you right away," said Doane
nervously, leading her to the shadow of the far end of the porch.
There he turned and faced her, taking her hands.
"Laura, you must have seen it for a long time. You could hardly help
but see it. I love you, Laura--I love you with all my heart, and I
want you to be my wife."
The girl drew back in astonishment.
"But why do you have to tell me this so suddenly?" she asked, her
color coming and going.
"Because I want you to marry me, Laura, to-night!" he said.
Again he reached for her hands. "Please, Laura," he pleaded. "It means
so much to me. Don't you care for me, sweetheart? I've been led to
think you did, and I intended to tell you soon, but all this
trouble--this terrible trouble to-day--has nearly driven me mad. I'm
afraid I'll go mad, Laura, if I don't have something else to think
about. Oh, Laura, marry me and help me out of this big trouble."
"Fred!" exclaimed the girl, startled by his passion of pleading.
"Fred, I've never tried to make you think I cared for you. And
now--well, I'd have to have a long time to think it over. How would it
help you out of trouble, Fred? Tell me that."
"By helping me forget--by helping me forget that our bank is ruined!
By saving my mind! By keeping me from going mad! By----"
"Fred you must not talk so. That robbery has unnerved you for the time
being, that's all. You're excited and so----"
"I'm more than excited," he declared, trying to put his hands on her
shoulders. "I'm about--about--_gone_! Laura, marry me to-night, and
we'll go somewhere--we'll go somewhere right from here, from this
ranch--go a long way and get married in the morning. Then we can stay
away for a short time till I get to be myself again."
"No, Fred," replied the girl in convincing tones, "I can't. It would
be asking too much even if I loved you. Come inside, and I'll make you
some strong tea. You can talk to father and me and regain control of
yourself."
There was a moment of silence. Mallory with the lamp had come to the
door at the sound of Doane's loud voice. He was looking at them. Then
out of the night came the pound of hoofs. There was no mistaking the
sound.
Doane whirled around, as a rider came out of the sea of mesquite and
greasewood and flung himself from the saddle in front of the porch.
The bank cashier turned toward Mallory. His face was haggard. He
seemed to sway, as the rider came stamping up the steps. He darted for
the door, but had hardly got inside before the rider caught him and
made him face about. Mallory hurried in with the lamp, followed by the
girl.
Doane was quailing before the new arrival. Both cried out, as they saw
it was Eagen who had broken out so suddenly. Eagen towered above the
shrinking Doane.
"So you thought you'd double cross me, did you, eh?" came Eagen's
harsh voice, and he slapped Doane in the face.
Doane went red, then white. For a moment intense hatred and anger
flashed in his eyes, but he made no move to avenge the insult. Slowly
the light in his eyes died again to fear, as he realized his
inability to cope with this man of strength.
"Here, Eagen, you can't come into my house and act like that," said
Mallory stoutly, putting the lamp on the table.
Laura still stood in the doorway, stunned by the rapid and extraordinary
turn of events. Eagen turned on Mallory with a snarl.
"Shut up, you old fool! Don't butt in where you ain't wanted, an' on
something you don't know anything about."
"I know you're in my house!" Mallory retorted sternly.
"I'll only be here a minute," said Eagen with a sneer. "I'm goin' out
of your house, an' I'm goin' to drag this sneaking cur out with
me--out on the solid ground an' give him what's comin' to him. An'
then," he added in a terrible voice; "I'm goin' to go out an' get his
pardner--Rathburn, The Coyote--get him when the others can't come
within a mile of him!"
"You can't take this man out of my house when he is my guest!"
thundered Mallory.
"No?" asked Eagen contemptuously. "Well, you watch an' see! If you try
to stop me you'll stop lead!"
He leaped forward and grasped Doane by the shoulder, jerked him
forward, and stepped backward himself. He turned, dragging his victim,
then stopped dead in his tracks with a hissing intake of breath.
Rathburn was standing quietly in the doorway.