or Silver--perhaps both. They work together. Nelson, go to the Tomahawk
and see if any of my men are in from the ranches. Bring them here to me.
Wait! Send them here. You get a horse and ride for the Half-Wheel. Don’t
spare the horse. Tell Slim Patterson what happened. Then you go to the
Circle S and tell Jim Carlin to bring his outfit to the Half-Wheel and
to send a man to the Lightnin’ for Jackson and his crew. We’ll all meet
at the Half-Wheel.”
Nelson ran from the house, and the old doctor turned to Reber.
“You’ll not ride tonight,” he said firmly.
“You try to stop me, Doc.”
“Hm-m-m-m! You’re a fool, Park. That wound isn’t healed up. You’ll wreck
your health, I tell you.”
“Bah! Wreck my health! I’m goin’ out to find that girl and to whip all
this scum out of the valley. I’ve stood all I’ll ever stand from Priest
and Silver.”
“It was a foolish thing, that sending of a woman,” said the old doctor.
He had known Park Reber for years, and felt privileged to speak his
mind.
“Mebbe,” said Reber shortly. “Mebbe not. She’s smart, Doc. I wish she
was my daughter. If things had turned out different I might have had a
girl or a boy of about her age.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“And she spoiled Buck Priest’s shot,” said Reber. “He’s got no love for
her. I wonder where these men would take her? Not to any known place,
that’s a cinch. She’s their ace in the hole. I’d like to get my two
hands around Buck Priest’s throat and choke the truth from him. Oh, he
hates me, Doc!
“When he looks at me with his lop-sided grin, I feel that he’s gloating
over somethin’.”
“Be calm,” advised the doctor. “You’ll work yourself into a fever. Did
any doctor ever have such a patient to contend with? That meeting almost
ruined everything; and now you insist on getting excited and riding
helter-skelter over the hills in the dark! I ought to tie you down.”
“Here come some of my men,” said Reber. “Now you keep your tongue out of
it, Doc. I’m goin’, if I have to go on a stretcher.”
* * * * *
It was almost dark when Jack Silver led the way to the Two Bar X. There
were no lights in the ranchhouse. June dismounted and forced Jack to
knock on the door. But there was no answer to his knock. The door was
unlocked. Without any orders from June, Jack lighted the big lamp in the
main room.
“Where is everybody?” wondered June. “Is this the Two Bar X?”
“It’s the Two Bar X all right,” said Jack.
His heels were sore from the long walk in high-heeled boots and he
limped painfully.
June pointed at a door across the room.
“Open that,” she ordered.
Jack limped over and opened it.
It was a windowless inside room, evidently used as a bedroom by some one
who cared little for ventilation. There was a small lamp on the table,
and June ordered Jack to light it. She told him to remove the rope, and
then she backed into the main room, closing the door behind her.
At some time the room must have been used for storage purposes, because
there was a hasp and staple fastener. June quickly locked the door,
after which she sat down in a chair and drew the first calm breath she
had taken since Jack Silver had entered the deserted cabin. There was no
way for him to get out of that room. She took a small lamp and went on a
tour of investigation. The kitchen was fairly clean and there was plenty
of food.
She cooked a meal for herself, but was afraid to take any of it to
Silver. She had him under lock and intended keeping him. She felt sure
that the men of the Two Bar X would be coming back soon. Perhaps, she
thought, they heard of what happened to her and were searching for her.
And what a surprize it would be for them to come back and find her
there, and to find Jack Silver a prisoner. She washed the dishes and
went back to the main room. It was very quiet. A new moon was peeping
over the crest of the Tomahawk range, and she heard the distant howling
of a coyote.
She put Jack Silver’s gun on the table beside her and sat down to look
at some old magazines. Suddenly she heard the muffled tread of horses
walking and thought it was the boys of the ranch coming home. She ran to
a front window and looked out, but could see no one.
For several minutes she stood at the window, but the half-light was
baffling. She went back and sat down, after deciding that it had been
some loose horses. But something made her feel that she was being
watched. Perhaps it was sort of sixth sense.
She found herself unable to read. The two dull, uncurtained windows
seemed to stare at her like a pair of eyes. Why didn’t they curtain
their windows, she wondered? There were noises, too--queer noises.
Suddenly there came the scrape of leather sole on the porch, and the
door was flung open. June jerked forward, her hand on the big gun.
Two men stepped inside, looking queerly at her. It was McLeese, the
deposed foreman, and Chuck Bell, a big, raw-boned, square-faced cowboy
who worked for the Two Bar X. McLeese glanced at the hand and gun on the
table.
“Yuh got here, eh?” he said easily. “That’s fine. I was kinda late
gettin’ here for my stuff. Where’s all the boys?”
“I don’t know,” said June. “I haven’t been here long.”
“Uh-huh,” nodded McLeese. “I suppose they’re late gettin’ in. Well, I’ll
gather up my stuff and head back for town. Did yuh come out alone?”
“Two men brought me,” said June.
She didn’t want to tell McLeese anything, because she didn’t trust him.
“And went back and left yuh alone, eh? Dirty trick. This is a lonesome
place for a girl, Miss Meline. If yuh want us to, we’ll stay until the
boys come back.”
“No, I’m all right,” said June. “I’m not afraid.”
“Uh-huh.”
McLeese went past her and entered the kitchen, where she heard him
working around. Chuck Bell came over near the table and sat down in a
chair. He began rolling a smoke. June was entirely disarmed. She took
her hand away from the gun and picked up a magazine.
As quick as a flash Bell jerked sidewise out of his chair and secured
the gun. He leered at June as he shoved the gun inside the waist-band of
his overalls.
“All set, Mac,” he called. McLeese came from the kitchen, glanced
quickly toward the table and laughed throatily.
“That’s better than knockin’ her on the head,” he said. “By golly, she
had me worried for a minute. I don’t _sabe_ it yet, but that don’t worry
me much. Get a rope, Bell.”
Bell walked back to the front door and went out, while McLeese leaned
against the table and leered at June.
“Smart little lady, eh? Made a awful hit with Old Man Reber, didn’t yuh?
Came out here to catch Jack Silver!”
McLeese laughed scornfully. Bell came in with the rope and gave it to
McLeese, who lost no time in tying June’s hands and feet securely.
“Find me a handkerchief or a rag,” he said. “We’d better gag her. Yuh
never can tell who might come along. The road is guarded and all that,
but we’ll jist play safe.”
Bell produced a dirty bandanna handkerchief.
“Why don’tcha find out how much she knows, Mac?” he asked.
“Whatsa use? Anyway, we’ve got to get goin’, Chuck. Old Man Reber won’t
stop to ask many questions.”
McLeese twisted the handkerchief, forced June’s teeth apart and tied the
gag. As he was finishing the job, Bell examined the gun he had taken
from her. Suddenly he cried out:
“This is Jack Silver’s gun!”
“What’re yuh talkin’ about?” asked McLeese.
“I tell yuh it is, Mac! There’s the S carved on the bottom of the
handle. I’ve seen it lots of times. Where do you suppose she got it?”
McLeese looked at June, who was none too comfortable with the gag
between her teeth.
“Take that rag out and let her talk,” suggested Bell, but McLeese shook
his head.
“She’d lie about it, anyway.”
He indicated the closed door, where June had locked Silver.
“We’ll put her in there, Chuck. Grab her feet.”
McLeese grasping her by the shoulders and Chuck Bell taking her feet,
they carried her over to the door.
McLeese did not seem to think it strange that the hasp was fastened in
place. He held June with one arm while he unfastened it. He grasped her
again with both hands and kicked the door open.
And as the door flew open, something in the nature of a cyclone seemed
to strike them. Jack Silver sprang from inside the room, striking Chuck
Bell with his shoulder.
June’s feet struck the floor heavily, and McLeese jerked away, letting
her fall to the floor as Chuck Bell went spinning across the room. Jack
went to his hands and knees, but was up like a flash and into the
startled McLeese before he could draw a gun.
He swung a right hand at McLeese’s jaw, but the blow was too high. It
caught McLeese on the bridge of the nose and knocked him to his haunches
against the wall. Silver turned quickly to meet the rush of Chuck Bell,
and they grappled. It was evident that Bell was so dizzy from his
spinning that he forgot to draw a gun; but not so McLeese. He sagged
back, his broken nose painting his face with gore, and whipped out his
gun and fired upward at Silver.
The report of the gun was echoed by a crash of glass, and the room was
plunged in darkness. McLeese’s bullet had smashed the lamp, missing Jack
Silver’s ear by a fraction of an inch.
Silver whirled Bell around, broke his hold and flung him toward McLeese.
It was evident that Bell went down on top of McLeese, and Silver feared
for the safety of June, who was only a few feet from McLeese.
He stepped in and tried to drag her out of the mélée, but at that moment
one of the men crashed into him, knocking him off his feet. He went
rolling against the table, and a man fell over him. Silver struggled to
his feet and met the rush of one of them.
In that darkness it was impossible for him to see which one it was. They
crashed to the floor, fighting like a pair of animals, but Jack managed
to tear himself away and slid along the floor.
The front door opened, and for a moment he could see the silhouette of a
man, etched blackly against the moonlight.
Came the crashing report of a revolver in the room, and the silhouette
sagged down heavily.
The flash of the gun had blinded Silver, and the powder smoke choked
him. One of these men had shot the other, thinking it was Jack Silver.
He heard this man crawling across the floor, but did not try to stop
him. Then he heard him run through the kitchen, slam the door shut and
go running across the yard.
Silver ran to the front door. The man who had left the house mounted his
horse and spurred toward the gate. Silver turned the man over in the
doorway, and the white face and staring eyes of McLeese looked up at
him. He found McLeese’s gun where he had dropped it on the porch, and
went back in the house. He secured the lamp in the kitchen, lighted it
and went into the main room.
June was still lying where they had dropped her. Silver closed the front
door and came back to her. It was a simple task for him to take the gag
and ropes off her and help her to a chair, where she sagged wearily. The
gag had cut her lips, and there was blood on her wrists, cut by the
ropes.
Silver said nothing. His face was bruised and one sleeve of his shirt
was almost torn off. June stared at him, panting nervously, as he calmly
rolled a cigaret with steady fingers.
“Why don’t you say something?” she asked, almost hysterically.
He looked at her, a half-smile on his lips.
“I dunno,” he said simply. “Don’t seem to be much to say.”
“Well, what is it all about? Oh, why don’t you get excited? You sit
there and roll a cigaret just as though nothing had happened. Who--which
one did you shoot?”
“I didn’t shoot,” he said slowly. “Bell shot McLeese. Mebbe he thought
it was me. He didn’t have any cause to shoot Mac, that I know about. The
door over there was too thick for me to hear much that was said, and I’m
wonderin’ why they had you tied up.”
June shook her head. She didn’t know.
“Didn’t they tell yuh why?”
“Oh, I don’t know what they talked about. Everything is so mixed up.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
He lighted his cigaret and inhaled deeply.
“It seems to me,” he said smiling quietly, “that you’ve kinda had a hard
time gettin’ started on yore new job.”
“Why did you have me kidnaped?” she asked.
“Me? Lord love yuh, I never did.”
“I’d like to believe you, but--”
“Why should I?”
“Well, I--I--you hate Park Reber.”
“Yo’re not Park Reber.”
“I--I work for him.”
“Lotsa folks work for him, ma’am, and I never kidnaped any of them.”
June bit her lip and studied Jack Silver, who looked at her frankly. He
did not look like a man who would kidnap a woman. There was nothing of
the sneak about him.
“What do you do for a living?” she asked bluntly.
“Trappin’, mostly. I had a small herd of cattle a few years ago, but
Park Reber’s men killed ’em off. He didn’t want me to get a start. In
the winter I trap from here over into the Clear Valley side of the
range. I make a good livin’.”
“What do you do with the cattle you steal from Park Reber?”
It was a very blunt question. Jack Silver’s eyes did not shift, but
narrowed slightly, and for several moments he did not speak. Then--
“I’ve never stolen a cow from Park Reber.”
“That doesn’t check up with what I’ve heard, Mr. Silver.”
“Probably not, ma’am, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve eaten Diamond R beef.
He killed off my cattle, didn’t he? When I needed a piece of beef real
bad, I took it. Reber hates me. He says he hates me because I steal his
cattle, but he’s a liar.”
“Is it because he wants all the valley?”
“No, it’s because I’ve got Cheyenne blood in me. You’ve heard his
story?”
“About the Indians killing his wife?”
“Stealin’ her, ma’am. Nobody knows how she died--if she did die.”
“I’m sorry,” said June simply.
“About my blood?” Silver smiled bitterly. “I can’t help it.”
He got to his feet and walked to a window and he looked out. Finally he
came back and sat down.
“I don’t see where your blood would make any difference,” said June.
“Don’t yuh? Yo’re a white woman; would you marry a half-breed?”
“Why, I--I never thought of that.”
“You wouldn’t. Perhaps there are white women who would, but they’d not
be the kind I’d want. I don’t want to marry an Injun girl--so there yuh
are. I’m only half good enough to marry a white woman, and I’ve got too
much white blood to marry an Indian. Everybody hates a breed. Oh, yes
they do. Even the Injuns hate a breed.
“Do yuh know what they say about a half-breed? They say he inherits the
vices of both sides and the virtues of neither. Mebbe that’s right.”
“What about Buck Priest--did Reber steal his cattle?”
“I think so, ma’am. But this ain’t lettin’ us in on the secret of
things. Why do yuh suppose McLeese and Bell tied you up. Who kidnapped
yuh, and what was their object? I’m gettin’ kinda anxious. Bell rode
away, and he might come back in force. I’d hate to have yuh penned in
here with me if Reber’s men try to catch me. I’ve got my own gun and the
one McLeese had. If Reber found me here with you he’d hang
me--especially if he found McLeese dead on the porch.”
“Then you’d better go away,” said June. “I can get along all right, I
guess.”
“I guess yuh can’t. After them fellers tied yuh up and tried to lock yuh
in that room? We’ll find a horse to ride and I’ll take yuh over to my
place. At least you’ll be safe over there.”
June shook her head quickly.
“No, I’ll stay here.”
“Then I’ll stay with yuh.”
“And get hung for being here?”
“Mebbe. I’d sure hate myself all the rest of my life if I left yuh here
alone and anythin’ happened to yuh.”
“Why would you care?”
“I’m half white.”
“And you’d do this, even after I forced you to lead me here with a rope
around your neck.”
“That wasn’t anythin’. You didn’t pull it tight,” he smiled at her and
went to the front door.
“We’ve got to kinda make this place bull-tight,” he said. “Yore name’s
June, ain’t it? I heard it was. I’ll call yuh June. It’s easier to say
than ma’am. My name’s Jack. Prob’ly be mud before mornin’.”
“Mr. Reber will come looking for me,” said June.
“Yea-a-ah, and he’ll find me,” laughed Jack. “But I’ve got a hunch that
Mr. Reber is goin’ to have a hard time gettin’ here.”
“They spoke about the road being guarded. Did they mean against Mr.
Reber?”
“Might be. We’ll just wait and see what happens.”
* * * * *
Buck Priest and his men went back to the ranch and packed two horses
with blankets and enough food to last them several days. It was about
dark when they headed southeast toward the Porcupine hills. Priest’s
idea was to travel along the Porcupine for a way and then turn south
toward the Circle S.
As far as he knew there had been no misbranding of cattle. Therefore he
was of the opinion that the rustlers were moving a bunch of his stock
toward the West Fork pass. If Park Reber were stealing cattle, that was
the pass he would take them through to Clear Valley.
There was just enough moonlight to enable them to see to travel by. Buck
hoped to find the rustler’s camp, but after traveling far along the
Porcupine he decided to head toward the Half-Wheel, which was almost due
west of where they were now. He reasoned that if the rustlers knew that
O’Steen had escaped wounded they would possibly drop the herd and head
for the Half-Wheel.
In the meantime Park Reber had gathered a dozen riders and was also
heading down the valley. Nelson had told him what the two masked men had
said about the road’s being dangerous, and Reber was not the man not to
heed a warning. He left the road a short distance out of Tomahawk and
took to the open hills where there would be no danger of an ambush.
“We’ll head straight toward Jack Silver’s place,” he told his men. “Buck
Priest is in with Silver on this deal, that’s a cinch, so there’s no use
going to his place.”
“And if it’s a scheme to run a lot of cattle out of the valley they’ll
use the Trapper Creek pass,” declared Nelson. “I’d like to notch my
sight on the jasper that killed old Sam Herd.”
“There’ll be plenty of chances before this time tomorrow night,” said
Reber. “I’ll clean this valley of every rustler or quit the cow business
myself.”
The men knew the hills well, and they were able to make good time. Reber
was suffering considerably with his shoulder, but he gritted his teeth
and led the way.
There were no lights showing at the Half-Wheel when Buck Priest led his
men down to the road past the ranch. For quite a while they sat on their
horses at a little distance from the ranchhouse, debating just what to
do.
“We’ll go on,” decided Buck Priest. “Before daylight we can be in the
West Fork pass, and if they run those cows into that pass we’ll show the
dirty thieves a merry time.”
“Jist lemme get a sight of the fellers that leaded up O’Steen,” said
Rowdy. “I’m shore honin’ for a chance at ’em.”
“Daylight will tell the tale,” said Priest. “They’ll try and run ’em
through early in the mornin’. I wouldn’t be surprized to find the hills
around the Two Bar X full of my cows.”
They were about two miles south of the Half-Wheel, traveling along the
road through a narrow defile in the heavy brush, when a rifle spat fire
almost in front of them. It was so sudden and unexpected that the four
riders whirled in a mass, trying to control their horses. From several
places in the brush came orange-colored flashes, followed by the angry
spat of rifle shots. Buck Priest’s horse went down in a heap, pinning
Buck to the ground.
Ken Mader’s horse fell, but Ken flung himself free and began shooting
from the ground. For several moments it was a nightmare of rearing,
kicking horses and sporadic flashing of rifle and revolver shots. Mader
went down on his face.
Rowdy’s horse was shot from under him, but he managed to regain his feet
and mount behind Dick Leesom and spur the frightened horse into a gallop
back up the road. Dick had been shot through the side and was unable to
control his horse or to shoot a gun.
A flurry of rifle shots followed them, but the bullets buzzed far over
their heads.
Not one of the bushwhackers came in sight. As far as they were concerned
they never existed. Buck Priest had dropped flat on his back to escape
the hail of lead. His leg was pinned beneath his dead horse, and it was
impossible for him to extricate it. He could see the white face of Ken
Mader in the moonlight, and he cursed Park Reber and his men.
He tried to draw his leg loose from beneath the horse, but the pain
forced him to desist. He was sure the leg was broken. He swore bitterly,
feeling sure that they had run into the rustler’s ambush.
Back in the hills, only a mile away from the road, were Park Reber and
his men. They had heard the shooting, but the echoes were so confusing
that none of them could tell where the shooting was taking place.
“Sounded like a battle all right,” declared Reber. “We’d better head for
the road, I think. Unless I’m mistaken, that’s where the shooting came
from.”
They traveled due east, striking the road a few hundred yards north of
where the ambush had been laid. They did not see Leesom and Dow, who had
gone past the spot, and were heading north. But they did find Dow’s hat
in the road. It was a black Stetson, fairly new, but not marked with
name or initial.
“Somebody goin’ plenty fast,” said one of the men. “That’s hat’s too
good for a puncher to throw it away.”
“No way to tell which way he was goin’,” drawled a cowboy.
“We’ll go south and take a chance,” said Reber. And then they found Buck
Priest, pinned down by his dead horse, and Ken Mader lying dead beside
his dead horse. The men dismounted. Buck Priest recognized them and spat
a curse at Park Reber.
“Got yuh, eh?” grunted Reber.
“Mader’s dead,” said one of the men.
Reber gave them orders to lift the horse off Priest’s leg.
“Well, you’ve got me, Reber,” said Priest. “My leg’s busted. I hope
yo’re satisfied, you dirty cow thief!”
“I will be satisfied, yuh can bet on that,” said Reber. “Yo’re all
through in this valley, Buck Priest--you and yore S Bar P outfit. When I
get my hands on Jack Silver I’ve made a clean sweep.”
“When yuh do,” gritted Priest.
“Oh, I will,” rasped Reber. “I’ve started out to clean up this valley.”
“Clean! It’ll never be clean as long as _you_ live. You killed O’Steen
today--yore men did. He saw yuh stealin’ my cows. And yuh--oh what’s the
use? You’ve got the best hand, Reber. Go ahead and do what yuh want to.”
“I never killed O’Steen,” denied Reber.
“Yore men did.”
“Did they? I didn’t know it. Where’s June Meline?”
“That female fiddler?”
“Yeah, that female fiddler! Where is she?”
“I heard somebody stole her.”
“Oh, yuh did, eh? I reckon yuh didn’t need to _hear_ it. Some of you
boys lift him on a horse. We’ll take him along with us and settle his
case at the Two Bar X.”
They lifted Buck Priest to a saddle, and he cursed them for hurting his
broken leg. Perhaps they were none too gentle.
“Want to rope him on, Park?” asked one of the men.
“What for? If he falls off he can’t run away, can he?”
Two of the cowboys rode double and one of them led Buck Priest’s horse.
The jolting of the horse was misery to Priest, but he clamped his jaws
tightly and held all his weight on his right stirrup.
* * * * *
The first faint touch of dawn streaked the old pole corrals and the
stables of the Two Bar X. Huddled in a chair beside the table in the
main room sat June Meline, wrapped in a blanket, asleep. At one of the
front windows stood Jack Silver. He had watched all night for the return
of Bell, who he was sure would come back. The body of McLeese still lay
where it fell.
He turned his head and saw June looking at him. She had slept for
several hours.
“How are yuh feelin’, June?” he asked.
“All right, Jack. Oh, I must have slept a long time. Why, it’s morning!”
“Just about. We’ll get some breakfast and then I’ll rope a couple of
horses. I dunno what became of my horse, but I think they took him away.
We’re goin’ back to Tomahawk, June. Somethin’ is wrong out here.”
She nodded and got up from her chair.
“I’ll get the breakfast, Jack. I can cook.”
“I’ll betcha,” he smiled. “Yo’re quite a woman, June. I don’t blame
Reber for likin’ yuh. I never knew that women had the nerve you’ve got.
After what you went through since yuh left Tomahawk yesterday, it’s a
wonder you’ve got any nerve left.”
“But I’ve been frightened,” confessed June. “If you had said ‘boo!’ to
me yesterday I’d have dropped your gun.”
“Mebbe not,” said Jack smiling. “That gun is too easy on the trigger to
take any chances. I might have just booed a bullet into my nervous
system.”
Jack laughed and turned back to the window, leaning forward tensely.
There were cattle drifting past the rear of the corrals and sheds--a
compact mass of moving animals heading northwest toward the West Fork
pass. Jack stepped to the door and opened it enough to give him a
farther view down the valley. As far as he could see down the valley
there were cattle surging ahead like a brown wave.
Jack shut the door quickly. A man had slipped through the corral-fence
at the corner of a shed, a man carrying a rifle in his hand.
“What is it, Jack?” asked June anxiously.
“The big steal!” he exclaimed. “I know the answer now, June. Reber’s own
men are stealing from him--taking a big herd over the West Fork pass.
That’s why they stole yuh, don’t yuh see? They didn’t want anybody here
to see ’em. That’s why there wasn’t anybody here, June.