Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
THE SPOILERS OF THE VALLEY
ROBERT WATSON
THE SPOILERS OF THE VALLEY
By ROBERT WATSON
Author of "The Girl of O. K. Valley", etc.
A. L. BURT COMPANY
Publishers--New York
Published by arrangement with George H. Doran Company
Printed in U. S. A.
COPYRIGHT, 1921,
BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
TO
A LADY CALLED NAN
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I The Man Hunt 11
II The Wolf Note 19
III At Pederstone's Forge 36
IV Wayward Langford 44
V The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing 58
VI A Bird to Pluck 67
VII Wild Man Hanson Goes Wild 74
VIII Like Man, Like Horse 89
IX The Doings of Percival 101
X Jim's Grand Toot 122
XI Sol Wants a Good Wife--Bad 140
XII The Dance 148
XIII The Big Steal 165
XIV The Round-Up 176
XV Sol's Matrimonial Mix-Up 190
XVI The Breakaway 203
XVII Wayward Langford's Grand Highland Fling 224
XVIII The Coat of Many Colours 240
XIX Ranching De Luxe 258
XX A Breach and a Confession 273
XXI A Maiden, a Lover and a Heathen Chinee 302
XXII Fire Begets Hot Air 320
XXIII So Deep in Love am I 338
XXIV The Landslide 355
XXV The Bank Robbery 372
XXVI The Dawn of a New Day 382
The Spoilers of the Valley
THE SPOILERS OF THE VALLEY
CHAPTER I
The Man Hunt
Up on the hill, high above the twinkling lights of the busy little
ranching town of Vernock, at the open dining-room window of a pretty,
leafy-bowered, six-roomed bungalow, a girl, just blossoming into
womanhood, stood in her night robes and dressing gown, braiding her
dark hair. She was slight of form, but health glowed from her
expressive face.
She was dreamily contemplating the beauties of the night.
Below her, stretching like a fan, was the Valley upon which was built
the merry, happy-go-lucky, scattered little town she loved. Everywhere
around were the eternal, undulating hills, enclosing the Valley in a
world by itself. The night had just lately closed in. The sky was
clear and presented a wall and a dome of almost inky blue. Away due
south, right over the peak of a hill, on the wall of blue hung a great
star, bright and scintillating like a floating soap bubble, while a
handspan straight above that again a thin, crescent moon lay coldly
on its back sending up a reflection of its own streaky, ghostly light
from the distant lake which was no more than visible through a rift in
the hills.
As the girl drank in the delights of the peaceful panorama spreading
away right from her very feet, she was aroused sharply from her
meditation. She heard, or fancied she heard, a distant shot, followed
by the sound of excited voices and the barking of dogs. She went to
the door, threw it open fearlessly and peered down the hill; but all
was silent again save for this barking which travelled farther and
farther away all the time, being caught up and carried along in a
desultory fashion by the dogs of all the neighbouring houses and
ranches.
She stood for a moment, looking about her, then, shivering slightly
with the cold, she threw a kiss to the Valley, closed the door again
and turned slowly toward her bedroom.
Her fingers were upon the lamp to turn down the light, when three
short peremptory raps at the back door caused her to start nervously.
She took up the lamp and tiptoed into the kitchen.
"Who's there?" she called.
The rapping was repeated; this time with a much greater insistence.
"Quick,--quick! For God's sake let me in!" came a hoarse, muffled
voice which sounded strangely tired.
The girl set the lamp on the kitchen table and went cautiously forward
to the door.
"Who's there?" she repeated, her hand on the door fastenings.
"Let me in!" came the voice in desperation. "If you have a heart,
please open."
"I cannot until I know who you are. I am a girl. I am alone."
A groan escaped the man on the outside, and the anguish of it struck
into the bosom of Eileen Pederstone. Once more the voice came
pleadingly:--
"And I am a man! I am hunted,--I need help."
The girl shot back the bolt, threw wide the door and stood back with
bated breath.
A masculine figure, panting and dishevelled, staggered in, blinking in
the lamplight.
Eileen slowly pushed the door shut, keeping her frightened eyes upon
the incomer who tottered weakly to the wall and leaned against it for
support.
Dirty from head to heel, he was dressed only in a pair of ragged
trousers and a torn, mud-stained shirt. His stockingless feet were
partly hidden in a pair of broken boots. Several days' growth of beard
made it hard to guess him young or old. But his blue eyes, despite
their tired and bloodshot appearance, betrayed, as they gazed in
wonder at the girl, many characteristics of a youthfulness not yet
really past.
While the two stood thus, the far-away sound of voices floated up the
hill from below.
The fugitive's eyes roved like those of a hunted animal. He braced
himself as if ashamed of his momentary show of fear. He tried hard to
smile, but the smile was a dismal failure.
"Sorry," he panted, "but--but----" His voice sounded harsh and
hoarse from exposure. "Is there anywhere--any place where you
could hide me till they pass. They were only--only a little behind me.
Guess--I--shouldn't--shouldn't have got you mixed up in this. They
are coming this way. They want to take me back--but I can't--I
won't go back there. Ah!"
He clung with his fingers against the wall to prevent him from
collapsing.
In a moment, anxious and all alert, Eileen searched the kitchen
for a place of safe hiding. She thought of the cupboards, the
clothes-closets in her own bedroom, even her bed of spotless linen;
but none of these afforded security. At last, her ready eyes found
what her nimble mind was seeking.
"Quick--here!" she cried, turning to the huge box in the corner which
she used for holding the short firewood for her stove. "Help me unload
this wood. The box is good and big. You can get inside; I'll pile the
wood on top of you. They'll never guess."
The girl, although slight in appearance, set to with a vigour and an
agility that carried a swift contagion. The man was by her side at
once. He gave a little crackle of a laugh in his throat, and shot a
glance of admiration at her. In sixty seconds more, the box was
emptied of its contents. The man clambered inside and crouched in the
bottom of it.
It was only then that the girl noticed his very great physical
weakness.
"Oh, what shall I do?" she cried in sudden alarm. "I can't leave you
this way. You have been hurt. There is blood on your shirt. The
cowards!--they've shot you."
"Never mind me--hurry! It is nothing at all--only a scratch! Quick!"
he gasped.
"Wait a moment then!" she whispered.
The man raised himself on his elbow and watched her as she ran to the
tap in the pantry and filled a tumbler to the brim with water.
Greedy hands clutched the glass from her, and the contents were
swallowed in great gulps. The man sighed like a tired child. He smiled
slightly, showing teeth of delightful regularity.
"Water's great--isn't it?" he said childishly.
And as Eileen looked into his eyes she saw that they were young eyes;
eyes filled with tears, and eyes that were ever so blue.
"Quick! They're pretty nearly here."
Eileen commenced cautiously to pile the wood on top of him.
"Don't mind me!" he whispered huskily. "Tumble it in. I'm--I'm only a
runaway convict."
She worked fast and furiously, and had just turned away from the
innocent-looking, well-piled box of split wood in the corner, when she
heard the excited voices of hurrying men at her front door.
They tapped sharply.
She took the lamp from the kitchen table, carried it with her to the
door, shot the bolt back again and threw the door wide open.
Three men stepped into the semi-circle of light. All were tall and of
agile build.
"Poor boy!" was Eileen's first thought. "What chance has he against
these?"
One of the men carried a rifle. She knew him. Everybody in Vernock
knew him. She had known him ever since his coming to the Valley five
years before.
She had marked with childlike wonder--as others had done--his meteoric
progress in wealth and power. He was a man, disliked by some, feared
by many, and obeyed by all; a land-owner; a cattle breeder; a grain
dealer; a giant in body as well as will; and--the new Mayor of
Vernock.
The other men were strangers to the girl.
All three walked straight through to the kitchen. The one nearest to
Eileen addressed her.
"Sorry miss, for intrudin' so late, 'specially as we hear your dad's
at Enderby and you're all alone to-night. But we're after a man--a
convict--escaped from Ukalla jail. Saw your light! Thought we saw
your door open!"
He peered about suspiciously. "Didn't see anything of him--did you?"
Eileen looked away from the ferrety eyes that searched hers.
"I was just going to bed," she answered nervously. "I--I fancied I
heard voices and a shot."
"Wasn't any fancy, miss!"
"I--I opened the door and looked out, but didn't hear anything more,
so I closed the door again."
"Hum!" put in her interlocutor, rubbing his chin. "You didn't see any
signs of our man when you looked out?"
Eileen shivered, for she did not know how much these men knew or how
much they had really seen.
"Yes or no, miss!" he snapped.
"No!--most certainly, no!" Eileen shot back at him in defiance. "How
dare you talk to me in that way!"
Tears of vexation sprang to her eyes; vexation that she should have
had to lie, although it was forced upon her unless she meant to betray
the man who had trusted himself to her safe-keeping.
"Easy, officer;--easy! Miss Pederstone is all right," put in the man
with the rifle. "What she says you can bank on."
"Oh, pshaw!--you don't have to teach me my business," retorted the
detective.
"Maybe not; but you can stand some teaching in manners," returned the
other.
"See here, sir!" came the quick answer, "if you don't like this, you
had better get down the hill and home. You village mayors give me a
pain."
The man with the rifle bit his lip and remained silent.
"You don't mind me having a look round, miss?" inquired the officer a
little bit less brusquely, but starting in to search without waiting
for her permission.
He threw open the cupboards and the closets. He examined every room in
the house. He even went into Eileen's bedroom. She followed him there,
carrying the lamp. He looked into her bed and searched under it. He
examined her clothes chest.
At last both returned to the kitchen.
The moment she got there, Eileen's heart stood still. She gave vent to
a startled exclamation, which, however, she quickly covered up by
stumbling slightly forward as if she had tripped on the rug and almost
upset the lamp.
The second officer, who all along had remained silent and simply an
onlooker, was seated on the top of the wood box, rapping his heels on
the side of it and whistling softly to himself with a look on his face
which might have been taken for one of blissful ignorance or secret
knowledge, so bland was it.
"All through, Barney?" he asked.
"Ya!"
"Satisfied?"
"Ya!--come on!"
The second officer turned to the box upon which he had been sitting.
"Some box this!" he exclaimed, kicking it with his foot. "Guess we'd
better see if there's anyone under the wood pile."
He got down and commenced to throw a few pieces off the top.
Eileen's heart stopped beating.
The detective at the door came over with a look of supreme contempt on
his face. He lifted the lid of the stove and spat some tobacco juice
into the fire, then he went over to his companion.
"Say, Jim!--are you a detective or a country boob on his vacation?"
"Why? What's the matter with you?"
"Aw, quit! Can't you see the lady wants to get to bed! Why don't you
look inside the teapot?"
"Oh, all right!" replied the other, dusting off his hands. "This is
your hunt:--if you are satisfied, so am I."
Eileen's heart thumped as if it would burst through her body, and she
feared for the very noise of it.
Slowly the second detective followed the other two men out.