CHAPTER XXII
Conniston and Kent, riding swiftly, side by side, overtook the wagonsconveying the three hundred men to the Valley, and, passing them,arrived at Brayley's camp before the men there had quit work for theday. Brayley was more than half expecting them, as Kent had telephonedto the office from Bolton to learn where Conniston was and had toldTommy Garton of his errand.
"An' now," proclaimed Brayley, with deep satisfaction, "we'll have thebig ditch clean through Valley City an' the cross-ditches growin' realfast before a week's up."
"I've told the drivers to stop when they get here, Brayley. Some ofthe men have blankets with them. We can rush more from Mr. Crawford'sstore in Crawfordsville. We can make out as to food. Have you figuredout what more horses, what further tools you'll need? That's good.Send a man to the Half Moon right now with word to Rawhide Jones torush us the horses. Put your new men to work in the morning if youhave to make them dig ditch with shovels. Also send a hundred of theminto Valley City as soon as it's daylight to begin the cross-ditches.Let Ben go with them. He can get his instructions there from me orfrom Tommy Garton. How is everything going?"
Brayley reported that the work was running smoothly, that his foremenwere as good men as he ever wanted to see, that he had no fault tofind anywhere.
"An' this ol' ditch is sure growin', Con," he finished, with a suddengleam of pride.
Conniston did not wait for the arrival of the wagons to ride on intoValley City. Kent he left behind him at the camp.
"I've a tremendous curiosity to see how you do this sort of thing,"Kent confided to him, as he handed Conniston the message he wishedsent from Valley City to Clayton & Paxton, of Denver. "I think that ifMr. Brayley has no objections and can spare me a blanket and somebread and coffee I'll roost here and watch the ditch grow in themorning."
Tommy Garton was still perched upon his high stool when Conniston cameto the office.
"Just through, though," he said, as he climbed down and with the aidof his crutches piloted his new legs toward the door, graspingConniston's hand warmly. "Good news, eh, Greek?"
"The best, Tommy. If we don't put this thing across now we ought to bekicked from one end of the desert to the other. By the way, I had avisit from Swinnerton this afternoon."
He told of what had passed, and ended, thoughtfully:
"What do you suppose was his object, Tommy? Just wanted to get a peekat what we have done?"
Garton laughed softly.
"You poor old innocent. Don't you know what the little man was after?Didn't he make it plain that he wanted you to double cross the oldman? Didn't he make it plain that he was in a position to make itworth your while? If our scheme fails, don't you see that you can goto Swinnerton and demand and get a good job working for his scheme?He has bought many a man, Greek. It is his theory that he can buy anyman he wants to buy."
"And I let him get away without slapping his little red face,"muttered Conniston, disgustedly.
He left Garton a few minutes later, promising to return and spend thenight with him, to talk at length with him in the morning, and wentdown the street to the Crawford cottage. He knew that since Argyl'sfather had left for Denver Mrs. Ridley, the wife of the proprietor ofthe lunch-stand, had been staying with her. It was Mrs. Ridley whoanswered his knock.
"Miss Argyl ain't come back yet, Mr. Conniston," she told him. "Shewent out this mornin' an' ain't showed up since. I reckon, though,she'll be back real soon now. It's after supper-time already."
"Do you know where she went?"
"No, sir. She didn't say. Won't you come in an' wait for her?"
"No," he answered, after a moment. "I'd better not. If Miss Crawfordhas been all day in the saddle she will be tired. I'll drop in in themorning."
"Maybe that would be better," Mrs. Ridley nodded at him. "We're upearly--breakfast at five. You might run in an' eat with us?"
Conniston promised to do so, and returned to the office, more than alittle disappointed at not having seen Argyl, wondering whither herlong ride could have taken her. Until late that night he and Gartontalked, planned, and prepared for the work of to-morrow. It was barelyfive the next morning when he again knocked at the cottage door. AgainMrs. Ridley answered his knock.
"Am I too early?" Conniston smiled at her. "I noticed your smokegoing. Is Miss Crawford up yet?"
"Miss Crawford--" He saw that she hesitated, saw a nervous uneasinessin her manner as she plucked with quick fingers at the hem of herapron. "She ain't come in yet!"
"What!" cried Conniston, sharply. "What do you mean? Where is she?"
"I--I don't know, sir. She ain't come back yet."
"You mean that Miss Crawford left yesterday morning and that she hasnot returned since that time? That she has been gone twenty-fourhours--all night?"
"Yes, sir." The old woman was eying him with eyes into which apositive fear was creeping, her lips trembling as she spoke. "Youdon't think anything has happened--"
"I don't know!" he cried, sternly. "Why didn't you let me know lastnight?"
"I didn't know what to do." The tears had actually sprung into hereyes. "I thought she must be all right. I thought mebbe she'd gone toCrawfordsville or to the Half Moon."
Conniston left her abruptly and hastened to the office.
"Tommy," he called, from the doorway, "do you know where Miss Crawfordis? Where she went yesterday?"
"No. Why?" Garton, sensing from the other's tones that something waswrong, swept up his crutches and hurried forward.
"She left yesterday morning," Conniston told him, as he went to thedesk and picked up the telephone. "She hasn't come back yet. Mrs.Ridley doesn't know anything about her." And to the operator:
"Give me the Crawford house. Quick, please! Yes, in Crawfordsville."
Upon the face of each man there were lines of uneasiness. Gartonpropped himself up against the desk and lighted a cigarette, his eyesnever leaving Conniston's face.
"Can't you get anybody?" he asked, after a moment.
"No. What's that, Central? They don't answer? Then get me thebunk-house at the Half Moon. Yes, please! I'm in a hurry."
It was Lonesome Pete who answered.
"No, Con," he answered. "Miss Argyl ain't here. Anything the matter?"
Conniston clicked up the receiver and swung upon Garton.
"It is just possible," he said, slowly, "that she is inCrawfordsville, after all. May have left the house already. I can callup the store as soon as it opens up and ask if she has been there."
Billy Jordan had entered at the last words.
"Who are you talking about?" he asked, quickly. "Not Miss Crawford?"
"Yes." Conniston whirled upon him abruptly. "Do you know where shewent yesterday?"
"No, I don't know where she went. But as I was coming to the office Imet her, just getting on her horse in front of her house, and she gaveme a message for you."
"Well, what was it?"
"'If you see Mr. Conniston,' she said, 'tell him that I have gone toinvestigate the value of the Secret.' I don't know what she meant--"
"She said that!" cried Conniston, his face going white.
"But she's all right," Billy Jordan hastened to add. "She's back now."
"You saw her?"
"No." He shook his head. "But I saw the horse she was riding. Justnoticed him tied to the back fence as I came in."
Again Conniston hurried to the cottage. Mrs. Ridley was upon theporch.
"Miss Crawford is back?" he called to her from the street.
She shook her head.
"Not yet. Ain't you--"
He did not wait to listen. Running now, he came to the little backyard, and to a tall bay horse, saddled and bridled, standing quietlyat the fence. At first glance he thought, as Billy Jordan had thought,that the animal was tied there. And then he saw that the bridle-reinswere upon the ground, that they had been trampled upon and broken,that the two stirrups were hanging upside down in the stirrup leathersas stirrups are likely to do when a saddled horse ha
s been runningriderless.
She had been to investigate the Secret! She had been gone all day, allnight! And now her horse had come home without her! He dared not tryto think what had happened to her; he knew that she must havedismounted while at the spring to examine the ground; he knew thatthere were sections of the desert alive with rattlesnakes.
The Great Work which had walked and slept with him for weeks, whichhad never in a single waking hour been absent from his thoughts, wasforgotten as though it had never been. The Great Work was suddenly atrifle, a nothing. It did not matter; nothing in the wide world butone thing mattered. Failure of the Great Work was nothing if only aslender, gray-eyed, frank-souled girl were safe. Success, unless shewere there to look into his eyes and see that he had done well, wasnothing.
Unheeding Mrs. Ridley's shrill cries, he swung about and ran back tothe office.
"Tommy," he cried, hoarsely, "her horse is back--without her! She rodeaway into the desert yesterday morning. She is out there yet. Billy,my horse is in the shed. Don't stop to saddle, but ride like the verydevil out to Brayley's camp. Tell him what has happened. Tell him torush fifty men on horseback to me. Tell him to see that each man takestwo canteens full of water. And, for Heaven's sake, Billy, hurry!"
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