Brand Blotters

by William MacLeod Raine

  CHAPTER XIV

  BLACK MACQUEEN CASHES HIS CHECKS

  It was part of his supreme audacity to trust her. While he was changinghis dusty, travel-stained clothes for some that belonged to her brothershe prepared a meal for him downstairs. A dozen times the impulse was onher to fly into the street and call out that Black MacQueen was in thehouse, but always she restrained herself. He was going to leave thecountry within a few hours. Better let him go without bloodshed.

  He came down to his dinner fresh from a bath and a shave, wearing a newtweed suit, which fitted him a trifle loosely, but was not unbecoming tohis trim, lithe figure. No commercial traveler at a familiar hotel couldhave been more jauntily and blithely at home.

  "So you didn't run away!" He grinned.

  "Not yet. I'm going to later. I owe you a meal, and I wanted to pay itfirst."

  It was his very contempt of fear that had held her. To fool away half anhour in dressing, knowing that it was very likely she might be summoningmen to kill him--to come down confident and unperturbed, possibly to meethis death--was such a piece of dare-deviltry as won reluctant admiration,in spite of her detestation of him. Even if she did not give him up, hissituation was precarious in the extreme. All the trains were beingwatched; and in spite of this he had to walk boldly to the station, buy aticket, and pass himself off for an ordinary traveler.

  Both knew that the chances were against him, but he gave no sign ofconcern or anxiety. Never had Melissy seen him so full of spirits. Thesituation would have depressed most men; him it merely stimulated. Theexcitement of it ran like wine through his blood. Driven from his hills,with every man's hand against him, with the avenues of escape apparentlyclosed, he was in his glory. He would play his cards out to the end,without whining, no matter how the game might go.

  Melissy washed the dishes, in order that the cook might not know that shehad had a guest for luncheon. The two returned to the living room. It washis whim to have her play for him; and she was glad to comply, because itinterfered with his wooing. She was no longer greatly afraid of him, forshe knew that he was on his good behavior to win her liking.

  Fortune favored her. For some time they had heard the cook moving about inthe kitchen. Once she had poked her head in to know whether her youngmistress would like the cherry pie for dinner.

  "I didn't know yez had company, Miss 'Lissie," she had apologized.

  "This gentleman will stay to dinner," Melissy had announced.

  At luncheon Melissy had not eaten with him; but at dinner it wasnecessary, on account of the cook, that she sit down, too. The meal hadscarce begun when Kate came beaming in.

  "Shure, Miss 'Lissie, there's another young gentleman at the door. It'sMr. Bellamy. I tould him to come right in. He's washing his face first."

  Melissy rose, white as a sheet. "All right, Kate."

  But as soon as the cook had left the room she turned to the outlaw. "Whatshall I do? What shall I do?"

  Little whimsical imps of mischief shone in his eyes. "Have him in andintroduce him to your husband, my dear."

  "You must go--quick. If I don't get rid of him, you'll be able to slip outthe back way and get to the depot. He doesn't know you are here."

  MacQueen sat back and gave her his easy, reckless smile. "Guess again.Bellamy can't drive me out."

  She caught her hands together. "Oh, go--go! There will be trouble. Youwouldn't kill him before my very eyes!"

  "Not unless he makes the first play. It's up to him." He laughed with thevery delight of it. "I'd as lief settle my account with him right now.He's meddled too much in my affairs."

  She broke out in a cry of distress: "You wouldn't! I've treated you fair.I could have betrayed you, and I didn't. Aren't you going to play squarewith me?"

  He nodded. "All right. Show him in. He won't know me except as LieutenantO'Connor. It was too dark last night to see my face."

  Bellamy came into the room.

  "How's Jack?" Melissy asked quickly as she caught his hand.

  "Good as new. And you?"

  "All right."

  The outlaw stirred uneasily in his seat. His vanity objected to anotherman holding the limelight while he was present.

  Melissy turned. "I think you have never met Lieutenant O'Connor, Mr.Bellamy. Lieutenant--Mr. Bellamy."

  They shook hands. MacQueen smiled. He was enjoying himself.

  "Glad to meet you, Mr. Bellamy. You and Flatray have won the honorssurely. You beat us all to it, sir. As I rode in this mornin', everybodywas telling how you rounded up the outlaws. Have you caught MacQueenhimself?"

  "Not yet. We have reason to believe that he rode within ten miles of townthis morning before he cut across to the railroad. The chances are thathe will try to board a train at some water tank in the dark. We're havingthem all watched. I came in to telephone all stations to look out forhim."

  "Where's Jack?" Melissy asked.

  "He'll be here presently. His arm was troubling him some, so he stopped tosee the doctor. Then he has to talk with his deputy."

  "You're sure he isn't badly hurt?"

  "No, only a scratch, he calls it."

  "Did you happen on Dead Man's Cache by accident?" asked MacQueen withwell-assumed carelessness.

  Bellamy had no intention of giving Rosario away to anybody. "You mightcall it that," he said evenly. "You know, I had been near there once whenI was out hunting."

  "Do you expect to catch MacQueen?" the outlaw asked, a faint hint of ironyin his amused voice.

  "I can't tell. That's what I'm hoping, lieutenant."

  "We hope for a heap of things we never get," returned the outlaw, in agentle voice, his eyes half shuttered behind drooping lids.

  Melissy cut into the conversation hurriedly. "Lieutenant O'Connor is goingon the seven-five this evening, Mr. Bellamy. He has business that willtake him away for a while. It is time we were going. Won't you walk downto the train with us?"

  MacQueen swore softly under his breath, but there was nothing he could sayin protest. He knew he could not take the girl with him. Now he had beencheated out of his good-byes by her woman's wit in dragging Bellamy to thedepot with them. He could not but admire the adroitness with which she hadutilized her friend to serve her end.

  They walked to the station three abreast, the outlaw carrying as lightlyas he could the heavy suitcase that held his plunder. Melissy made smalltalk while they waited for the train. She was very nervous, and she wastrying not to show it.

  "Next time you come, lieutenant, we'll have a fine stone depot to showyou. Mr. West has promised to make Mesa the junction point, and we're sureto have a boom," she said.

  A young Mexican vaquero trailed softly behind them, the inevitablecigarette between his lips. From under his broad, silver-laced sombrero helooked keenly at each of the three as he passed.

  A whistle sounded clearly in the distance.

  The outlaw turned to the girl beside him. "I'm coming back some day soon.Be sure of that, Mrs. MacQueen."

  The audacity of the name used, designed as it was to stab her friend andto remind Melissy how things stood, made the girl gasp. She looked quicklyat Bellamy and saw him crush the anger from his face.

  The train drew into the station. Presently the conductor's "All aboard!"served notice that it was starting. The outlaw shook hands with Melissyand then with the mine owner.

  "Good-bye. Don't forget that I'm coming back," he said, in a perfectlydistinct, low tone.

  And with that he swung aboard the Pullman car with his heavy suitcase. Aninstant later the Mexican vaquero pulled himself to the vestibule of thesmoking car ahead.

  MacQueen looked back from the end of the train at the two figures on theplatform. A third figure had joined them. It was Jack Flatray. The girland the sheriff were looking at each other. With a furious oath, he turnedon his heel. For the evidence of his eyes had told him that they werelovers.

  MacQueen passed into the coach and flung himself down into his sectiondiscontentedly. The savor of his adventure was gone. He
had made hisescape with a large share of the plunder, in spite of spies and posses.But in his heart he knew that he had lost forever the girl whom he hadforced to marry him. He was still thinking about it somberly when a figureappeared in the aisle at the end of the car.

  Instantly the outlaw came to alert attention, and his hand slipped to thebutt of a revolver. The figure was that of the Mexican vaquero whom he hadcarelessly noted on the platform of the station. Vigilantly his gazecovered the approaching man. Surely in Arizona there were not two men withthat elastic tread or that lithe, supple figure.

  His revolver flashed in the air. "Stand back, Bucky O'Connor--or, by God,I'll drill you!"

  The vaquero smiled. "Right guess, Black MacQueen. I arrest you in the nameof the law."

  Black's revolver spat flame twice before the ranger's gun got into action,but the swaying of the train caused him to stagger as he rose to hisfeet.

  The first shot of Bucky's revolver went through the heart of the outlaw;but so relentless was the man that, even after that, his twitching fingersemptied the revolver. O'Connor fired only once. He watched his opponentcrumple up, fling wild shots into the upholstery and through the roof, andsink into the silence from which there is no awakening on this side of thegrave. Then he went forward and looked down at him.

  "I reckon that ends Black MacQueen," he said quietly. "And I reckonMelissy Lee is a widow."

  * * * * *

  Jack Flatray had met O'Connor at his own office and the two had come downto the station on the off chance that MacQueen might try to make hisgetaway from Mesa in some disguise. But as soon as he saw Melissy thesheriff had eyes for nobody else except the girl he loved. One sleeve ofhis coat was empty, and his shoulder was bandaged. He looked very tiredand drawn; for he had ridden hard more than sixteen hours with a painfulwound. But the moment his gaze met hers she knew that his thoughts wereall for her and her trouble.

  His free hand went out to meet hers. She forgot MacQueen and all thesorrow he had brought her. Her eyes were dewy with love and his answeredeagerly. She knew now that she would love Jack Flatray for better or worseuntil death should part them. But she knew, too, that the shadow ofMacQueen, her husband by law, was between them.

  Together they walked back from the depot. In the shadow of the vines onher father's porch they stopped. Jack caught her hands in his and lookeddown into her tired, haggard face all lit with love. Tears were in theeyes of both.

  "You're entitled to the truth, Jack," she told him. "I love you. I think Ialways have. And I know I always shall. But I'm another man's wife. Itwill have to be good-bye between us, Jack," she told him wistfully.

  He took her in his arms and kissed her. "You're my sweetheart. I'll notgive you up. Don't think it."

  He spoke with such strength, such assurance, that she knew he would notyield without a struggle.

  "I'll never be anything to him--never. But he stands between us. Don't yousee he does?"

  "No. Your marriage to him is empty words. We'll have it annulled. It willnot stand in any court. I've won you and I'm going to keep you. There's notwo ways about that."

  She broke down and began to sob quietly in a heartbroken fashion, while hetried to comfort her. It was not so easy as he thought. So long asMacQueen lived Flatray would walk in danger if she did as he wanted her todo.

  Neither of them knew that Bucky O'Connor's bullet had already annulled themarriage, that happiness was already on the wing to them.

  This hour was to be for their grief, the next for their joy.

  The End

  NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BY

  WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE

  May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.MAVERICKS

  A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler" abounds. One of thesweetest love stories ever told.

  A TEXAS RANGER

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  BUCKY O'CONNOR

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  CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT

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  BRAND BLOTTERS

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  A DAUGHTER OF THE DONS

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  Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York

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  STORIES OF ADVENTURE

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  ISOBEL

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  Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York