The Heart of the Range

by William Patterson White

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  THE LETTERS

  "But what was yore idea in coming to Marysville a-tall?"

  "To get that release Father signed--I thought it might be in hissafe."

  "Anybody give you the idea it might be?"

  She shook her head. "Nobody."

  "You've got more brains than I have, for a fact. But how were youfiguring on getting into the safe?"

  "Oh, I brought a bunch of keys along. What are you laughing at? Ithought one might fit."

  "Keys for a safe! Say, don't you know you don't open safes with keys?They've got combinations, safes have."

  "I didn't know it. How could I? I never saw a safe in my life tillI saw this one to-night. I thought they had locks like any otherordinary--Oh, I think you're horrid to laugh!"

  "I'm not laughing. Lean over, and I'll show you.... There, I ain'tlaughing, am I?"

  "Not now, but you were.... Not another one, Racey. Sit back where youbelong, will you? You can hold my hand if you like. But I wasn't sucha fool as you seem to think, Racey. I brought an extra key along incase the others didn't fit."

  "Extra key?"

  "Surely--seven sticks of dynamite, caps, and fuse. Chuck had a lot hewas using for blowing stumps, so I borrowed some from his barn. Hedidn't know I took it."

  "I should hope not," Racey declared, fervently. "You leave dynamitealone, do you hear? Where is it now?"

  "Oh, I left it on the floor in Tweezy's house when I found I didn'tneed it any longer."

  "Thank God!" breathed Racey, whose hair had begun to rise at the bareidea of the explosives still being somewhere on her person. "What wasyore motive in hold in' up Jack Harpe and Jakey Pooley?"

  "Was that who they were? I couldn't see their faces. Well, when I hadbroken the lock and opened the back window and crawled through, I wentinto the front room where I thought likely the safe would be, and Iwas just going to strike a match when I heard a snap at the frontwindow as the lock broke. Maybe I wasn't good and scared. I paddledinto the other front room by mistake. Got turned around in the dark, Isuppose. And before I could open a window and get out I heard two menin the front room I'd just left. I didn't dare open a window then.They'd have heard me surely, so I just knelt down behind a bed. Andafter a while, when one man was busy at the safe, the fat man cameinto my room and sat down on a chair inside the door. Lordy, I hardlydared breathe. It's a wonder my hair didn't turn white. Once I thoughtthey must have heard me--the time the fat man said 'rats'. Honestly, Iwas so scared I was almost sick."

  "But you have nerve enough to try and hold them up."

  "I had to. When I found out they were going to rob the safe, I had todo something. Why, they might have taken the very paper I wanted, andsomehow later Tweezy might have gotten it back. I couldn't allow that.I knew that I must get at what was inside the safe before they did. Ijust had to, so when the fat man got up from his chair and stood inthe doorway with his back to me, I just gritted my teeth and stood upand said 'Hands up.'"

  "My Gawd, girl, you might 'a' been shot!"

  "I had a sixshooter," she said, tranquilly. "But I wouldn't have shotfirst," she added, reflectively.

  Willy-nilly then he took her in his arms and held her tightly.

  "But I don't see why," he said after an interval, "you had to go offon a wild-goose chase thisaway. Didn't I tell you I was going to fixit up for you? Couldn't you 'a' trusted me enough to lemme do it myown way?"

  "We had that--that quarrel in the kitchen, and I thought you didn'tlike me any more, and--and wouldn't have any more to do with me andthat it was my job to do something to help out the family.... Please!Racey! I can't breathe!"

  Another interval, and she resolutely pushed his arms down and held himaway from her with both hands on his shoulders.

  "Tell me," said she, her blue eyes plumbing the very depths of hissoul, "tell me you don't love anybody else."

  He told her.

  Later. "There was a time once when I thought you liked Luke Tweezy,"he observed, lazily.

  "How horrible," she murmured with a slight shudder as she snuggledcloser.

  And that was that.

  "I think, dearest," said Molly, raising her head from his shouldersome twenty minutes later, "that it's light enough now to see what'sin the sack."

  So, in the brightness of a splendid dawn, snugly hidden on thetree-covered flank of one of the Frying Pan Mountains, they opened thebran sack and went through every paper it contained.

  There were deeds, mortgages, legal documents of every description.They found the Dale mortgage, but they did not find the releasealleged to have been signed by Dale immediately prior to his death.

  "Of course that mortgage is recorded," said Racey, dolefully, staringat the pile of papers, "so destroyin' that won't help us any. Therelease he's carrying with him, and I don't see anything--"

  "Here's one we missed," said Molly Dale in a hopeless tone, picking upa slip of paper from where it had fallen behind a saddle. The slipof paper was folded several times. She opened it and spread it outagainst her knee. "Why, how queer," she muttered.

  "Huh?" In an instant Racey was looking over her shoulder.

  When both had thoroughly digested the meaning of the writing on thatpiece of paper they sat back and regarded each other with wide eyes.

  "This ought to fix things," breathed Molly.

  "Fix things!" cried Racey. "Cinch! We've got him like that."

  He snapped his fingers joyfully.

  Molly reached for the bran sack. "You only shook it out," she said."I'm going to turn it inside out. Maybe we'll find something else."

  They did find something else. They found a document caught in the endseam. They read it with care and great interest.

  "Well," said Racey, when he came to the signatures, "no wonder JackHarpe and Jakey Pooley wanted to get into the safe. No wonder. If wedon't get the whole gang now we're no good."

  "And to think we never thought of such a thing."

  "I was took in. I never thought anything else. And it does lie justright for a cow ranch."

  "Of course it does. You couldn't help being fooled. None of us had anyidea--"

  "I'd oughta worked it out," he grumbled. "There ain't any excuse formy swallowing what Jack Harpe told me. Lordy, I was easy."

  "What do you care now? Everything's all right, and you've got me,haven't you?" And here she leaned across the bran sack to kiss him.

  She could not understand why his return kiss lacked warmth.

  * * * * *

  "Sun's been up two hours," he announced. "And the hosses have had agood rest. We'd better be goin'."

  "What are you climbing the tree for, then?" she demanded.

  "I want to look over our back trail," he told her, clambering into thebranches of a tall cedar. "I know we covered a whole heap of groundlast night, but you never can tell."

  Apparently you never could tell. For, when he arrived near the top ofthe cedar and looked out across a sea of treetops to the flat at thebase of the mountain, he saw that which made him catch his breath andslide earthward in a hurry.

  "What is it?" asked Molly in alarm at his expression.

  "They picked up our trail somehow," he answered, whipping up a blanketand saddle and throwing both on her horse. "They're about three milesback on the flat just a-burnin' the ground."

  "Saddle your own horse," she cried, running to his side. "I'll attendto mine."

  "You stuff all the papers back in the sack. That's yore job. Hustle,now. I'll get you out of this. Don't worry."

  "I'm not worrying--not a worry," she said, cheerfully, both hands busywith Luke Tweezy's papers. "I'd like to know how they picked up thetrail after our riding up that creek for six miles."

  "I dunno," said he, his head under an upflung saddle-fender. "I shorethought we'd lost 'em."

  She stopped tying the sack and looked at him. "How silly we are!"she cried. "All we have to do is show these two letters to the possean'--"

  "S'p
ose now the posse is led by Jack Harpe and Jakey Pooley," said he,not ceasing to pass the cinch strap.

  Her face fell. "I never thought of that," she admitted. "But theremust be some honest men in the bunch."

  "It takes a whole lot to convince an honest man when he's part of aposse," Racey declared, reaching for the bran sack. "They don't stopto reason, a posse don't, and this lot of Marysville gents wouldn'tgive us time to explain these two letters, and before they got us backto town, the two letters would disappear, and then where would we be?We'd be in jail, and like to stay awhile."

  "Let's get out of here," exclaimed Molly, crawling her horse evenquicker than Racey did his.

  Racey led the way along the mountain side for three or four miles.Most of the time they rode at a gallop and all the time they took careto keep under cover of the trees. This necessitated frequent zigzags,for the trees grew sparsely in spots.

  "There's a slide ahead a ways," Racey shouted to the girl. "She'snearly a quarter-mile wide, and over two miles long, so we'll have totake a chance and cross it."

  Molly nodded her wind-whipped head and Racey snatched a wistful glanceat the face he loved. Renunciation was in his eyes, for that secondletter found caught in the bran sack's seam had changed things. Hecould not marry her. No, not now. And yet he loved her more than ever.She looked at him and smiled, and he smiled back--crookedly.

  "What's the matter?" she cried above the drum of the flying hoofs.

  "Nothing," he shouted back.

  He hoped she believed him. And bitter almonds were not as bitter asthat hope.

  Then the wide expanse of the slide was before them. Now some slideshave trails across their unstable backs, and some have not. Some areutterly unsafe to cross and others can be crossed with small risk.There was no trail across this particular slide, and it did notpresent a dangerous appearance. Neither does quicksand--till you stepon it.

  Racey dismounted at the edge and started across, leading his horse.Twenty yards in the rear Molly Dale followed in like manner. At everystep the footing gave a little. Once a rounded rock dislodged by theforefoot of Racey's horse bounded away down the long slope.

  The slither of a started rock behind him made him turn his head with ajerk. Molly's horse was down on its knees.

  "Easy, boy, easy," soothed Molly, coaxingly, keeping the bridle reinstaut.

  The horse scrambled up and plunged forward, and almost overran Molly.She seized it short by the rein-chains. The horse pawed nervously andtried to rear. More rocks skidded downward under the shove of the hindhoofs. To Racey's imagination the whole slide seemed to tremble.

  Molly's face when the horse finally quieted and she turned around waspale and drawn. Which was not surprising.

  "It's all right, it's all right, it's all right," Racey found himselfrepeating with stiff lips.

  "Of course it is," nodded Molly, bravely. "There's no danger!"

  "No," said Racey. "Better not hold him so short. Don't wind that reinround yore wrist! S'pose he goes down you'd go, too. Here, you lemmetake him. I'll manage him all right."

  "I'll manage him all right myself!" snapped Molly, up in armsimmediately at this slur upon her horsemanship. "You go on."

  Racey turned and went on. It was not more than a hundred yards towhere the grass grew on firm ground. Racey and his horse reached solidearth without incident. Then--a scramble, a scraping, and a clatteringfollowed in a breath by the indescribable sound of a mass of rocks inmotion.

  Racey had wasted no time in looking to see what had happened. He knew.At the first sound of disaster he had snapped his rope strap, freedhis rope and taken two half hitches round the horn. Then he leapedtoward the slide, shaking out his rope as he went.

  Twenty feet out and below him Molly Dale and her struggling horse weresliding downward. If the horse had remained quiet--but the horse wasnot remaining quiet and Molly's wrist was tangled in the bridle reins.

  In the beginning the movement was slow, but as Racey reached the edgeof the slide an extra strong plunge of the horse drove both girl andanimal downward two yards in a breath. Molly turned a white faceupward.

  "So long, Racey," she called, bravely, and waved her free hand.

  But Racey was going down to her with his rope in one hand. With theother hand and his teeth he was opening his pocket-knife. The loosestones skittered round his ankles and turned under his boot soles. Hetook tremendous steps and, with that white face below him, lived anage between each step.

  "Grab the rope above my hand!" he yelled, although by now she was nota yard from him.

  Racey was closer to the end of his rope than he realized. At theinstant that her free hand clutched at the rope it tightened with ajerk as the cow pony at the other end, feeling the strain and knowinghis business, braced his legs and swayed backward. Molly's fingersbrushed the back of Racey's hand and swept down his arm. Well it wasfor him that he had taken two turns round his wrist, for her forearmwent round his neck and almost the whole downward pull of girl andhorse exerted itself against the strength of Racey Dawson's arm andshoulder muscles.

  Molly's face and chin were pressed tightly against Racey's neck. Smallblame to her if her eyes were closed. The arm held fast by the bridlewas cruelly stretched and twisted. And where the rein was tight acrossthe back of her wrist, for he could reach no lower, Racey set theblade of his pocket-knife and sawed desperately. It was not a sharpknife and the leather was tough. The steel did not bite well. Raceysawed all the harder. His left arm felt as if it were being wrenchedout of its socket. The sweat was pouring down his face. His hat jumpedfrom his head. He did not even wonder why. He must cut that bridlerein in two. He must--he must.

  Snap! Three parts cut, the leather parted, Molly's left arm andRacey's right fell limply. Molly's horse went down the slide alone.Neither of them saw it go. Molly had fainted, and Racey was too spentto do more than catch her round the waist and hold her to him in timeto prevent her following the horse.

  Smack! something small and hot sprinkled Racey's cheek. He lookedto the left. On a rock face close by was a splash of lead. Smack!Zung-g-g diminuendo, as a bullet struck the side of a rock and buzzedoff at an angle.

  Racey turned his head abruptly. At a place where trees grew thinly onthe opposite side of the slide and at a considerably lower altitudethan the spot where he and Molly hung at the end of their rope shredsof gray smoke were dissolving into the atmosphere. The range waspossibly seven hundred yards. The hidden marksman was a good shot todrive his bullets as close as he had at that distance.

  Straight out from the place of gray smoke four men and four horseswere making their way across the slide. They were halfway across. Butthey had stopped. The down rush of Molly's horse had apparently giventhem pause. Now two men started ahead, one stood irresolute andone started to retrace his steps. It is a true saying that he whohesitates is lost. Straight over the irresolute man and his horserolled the dust cloud whose centre was Molly's horse. When the dustcloud passed on it was much larger, and both the man and his horse haddisappeared.

  The man who had started to retreat continued to retreat, and morerapidly. The two who had held on did not cease to advance, but theyproceeded very slowly.

  "If that feller with the Winchester don't get us we're all right for aspell," Racey muttered.

  He knew that on their side of the slide for a distance of severalhundred yards up and down the side of the mountain and for severalmiles athwart it the underbrush was impenetrable for horses and wickedtravelling for men. There had been a forest fire four years before,and everyone knows what happens after that.

  In but one place, where a ridge of rock reared through the soil, wasit possible to cross the stretch of burned-over ground. NaturallyRacey had picked this one spot. Whether the posse had not known ofthis rock ridge, or whether they had simply miscalculated its positionit is impossible to say.

  "Those two will shore be out of luck when they get in among thestubs," he thought to himself, as he waited for his strength to comeback.

  But
youth recovers quickly and Racey was young. It may be thatthe lead that was being sent at him and Molly Dale was a potentrevivifier.

  Certainly within three or four minutes after he had cut the bridleRacey began to work his way up the rope to where his patient andwell-trained horse stood braced and steady as the proverbial boulder.

  Monotonously the man behind the Winchester whipped bullet after bulletinto the rocky face of the slide in the immediate vicinity of RaceyDawson and the senseless burden in the crook of his left arm.Nevertheless, Racey took the time to work to the right and recover thehat that a bullet had flicked from his head.

  Then he resumed his slow journey upward.

  Ages passed before he felt the good firm ground under his feet andlaid the still unconscious Molly on the grass behind a gray andbarkless windfall that had once been a hundred-foot fir.

  Then he removed his horse farther back among the stubs where it couldnot be seen, took his Winchester from the scabbard under the leftfender and went back to the edge of the slide to start a returnargument with the individual who had for the last ten minutes beenendeavouring to kill him.