Shoe-Bar Stratton

by Joseph Bushnell Ames

  CHAPTER XXII

  NERVE

  With a deep sigh, Buck lifted his face from the water and regarded hergratefully.

  "That just about saved my life," he murmured.

  Mary Thorne carefully set down the improvised water-bucket, its contentsmuch depleted, and taking out her handkerchief, soaked it thoroughly.

  "I'm awfully stupid about first aid," she said. "But your head must bebadly cut, and--"

  "Don't," he protested, as the moist bit of cambric touched his hair."You'll spoil it."

  "As if that mattered!" she retorted. "Just rest your head on your arms;it'll be easier."

  With deft, gentle touches, she cleaned away the blood and grime, partinghis thick hair now and then with delicate care. Her hands were steady now,and having steeled herself for anything, the sight of a jagged,ugly-looking cut on his scalp did not make her flinch. She even bentforward a little to examine it more closely, and saw that a ridge ofclotted blood had temporarily stopped its oozing.

  "I think I'd better let it alone," she said aloud. "I might start itbleeding again. How--how did it happen?"

  Buck raised his head and regarded her with a slow, thoughtful stare.

  "I fell off the cliff back there," he replied at length.

  Her eyes widened. "You--fell off the cliff!" she gasped. "It's a wonder--But is this the only place you're hurt?"

  His lips twisted in a grim smile. "Oh, no! I've got a sprained ankle andwhat feels like a broken rib, though it may be only bruises. But as you'rethinking, I'm darned lucky to get off alive. I must have struck a ledge orsomething part way down, but how I managed from there I haven't the leastidea."

  Hands clenched together in her lap, she stared at him in dismay.

  "I thought perhaps you might be strong enough in a little while to rideback with me to the ranch. I--I could help you mount, and we could go veryslowly. But of course that's impossible. I'd better start at once andbring back some of the men."

  She made a move to rise, but he stopped her with a quick, imperativegesture. "No, you mustn't," he said firmly. "That won't do at all. I can'tgo to the ranch." He paused, his forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. "You maynot have guessed it, but Lynch and I don't pull together at all," hefinished, with a whimsical intonation.

  "But surely that wouldn't make any difference--now!" she protested.

  "Only the difference that he'd have me just where he wanted me," heretorted. He was regarding her with a steady, questioning stare, andpresently he gave a little sigh. "I'll have to tell you something I didn'tmean to," he said. "In my opinion Tex Lynch is pretty much of a scoundrel.He knows I know it, and there isn't anything he wouldn't do to shut mymouth--for good."

  To his amazement, instead of showing the indignation he expected, the girlmerely stared at him in surprise.

  "What!" she cried. "You believe that, too?"

  "I'm sure of it. But I thought you trusted--"

  "I don't any longer." She was surprised at the immensity of the reliefthat surged over her at this chance to unburden her soul of the load ofperplexity and trouble which harassed her. "For a long time Ihaven't--There've been a number of things. I still haven't an idea of whatit's all about, but--"

  "I'm mighty glad you feel that way," Buck said, as she paused. "I'm notquite sure myself just what he's up to, but I believe I'm on the righttrail." Very briefly he told her of the steps he had taken since leavingthe Shoe-Bar. "You see how impossible it would be to trust myself in hispower again," he concluded.

  For a moment or two Mary Thorne sat silent, regarding him with a curiousexpression.

  "So that was the reason," she murmured at length.

  His eyes questioned her mutely, and a slow flush crept into her face.

  "The reason you--you couldn't say you had no--special object in being onthe Shoe-Bar," she explained haltingly. "I'm--sorry I didn't understand."

  "I couldn't very well tell you without running the risk of Lynch's findingout. As it happened, I was trying my best to think up a reasonable excusefor leaving the outfit to do some investigating from this end, so youreally did me a good turn."

  "Investigating what? Haven't you any idea what he's up to?"

  Buck hesitated. "A very little, but it's too indefinite to put into wordsjust yet. I've a feeling I'll get at the bottom of it soon, though, andthen I'll tell you. In the meantime, when you go back, don't breathe aword of having seen me, and on no account let any one persuade youto--sell the outfit."

  She stared at him with crinkled brows. "But what are you going to do now?"she asked suddenly, her mind flashing back to the present difficulty.

  He dragged himself into a sitting posture. He was evidently feelingstronger and looked much more like himself.

  "Try and get back to that camp of mine I told you of," he explained. "Ireckon I'll have to lay up there a while, but there's food a-plenty, and agood spring, so--"

  "But I don't believe you can even stand," she protested. "And if your ribsare broken--"

  "Likely it's only one and I can strap that good and tight with a piece ofmy shirt or something. Then if you could catch Pete and bring him overhere, I'll manage to climb into the saddle some way. It's only three orfour miles, and the going's not so very bad."

  She made no further protest, but her lips straightened firmly and therewas a look of decision in her girlish face as she set about helping himwith his preparations.

  It was she who tore a broad band from his flannel shirt, roughly fringedthe ends with Buck's knife and tied it so tightly about his body that hehad hard work to keep from wincing. She insisted on bandaging his head,and while he rested in the shade went back into the gulch to look for hishat and the Colt that had fallen from his holster.

  She finally found them both under a narrow ledge that thrust out a dozenfeet below the edge of the trail. A stunted bush, rooted deep in somehidden crevice, grew up before it, and, staring upward at it, the girlguessed that to this little bush alone Buck owed his life. He had beenable to give her no further details of his descent, but she saw that itwould be possible for a man to crawl along the narrow ledge to whereanother crossed it at a descending angle, and thence gain the bottom ofthe gulch.

  "I wonder how he ever came to fall," she murmured, remembering how widethe trail was at the summit.

  Returning, however, she asked no questions. In the face of what lay beforeher, the matter seemed trivial and unimportant. She caught the Rocking-Rhorse without much trouble and led him back to a broad, flat boulder onwhich Buck had managed to crawl. Obliged to hold the animal, whoseslightest movement might prove disastrous, she could give no further aid,but was forced to stand helpless, watching with troubled, sympathetic eyesthe man's painful struggles to gain the saddle. When at last he succeededand slumped there, mouth twisted and face bathed in perspiration, herknees were shaking and she felt limp and nerveless.

  "We'll stop at the spring first for more water," she said, pulling herselftogether with an effort.

  Too exhausted for speech, Buck merely nodded, and the girl, gathering upFreckles's bridle in her other hand, led the two horses slowly toward thetrail. At the spring Buck drank deeply of the water she handed him, andseemed much refreshed.

  "That's good," he murmured, with an effort to straighten his bent body."Well, I reckon I'd better be starting. I--I can't thank you enough forall you've done, Miss--Thorne. It was mighty plucky--"

  "You mustn't waste your strength talking," she interrupted quietly. "Justtell me which way to go, and we'll start."

  "We?" he repeated sharply. "But you're not going."

  "Of course I am. Did you think for a moment I'd let you take that ridealone?" She smiled faintly with a brave attempt at lightness. "You'd befalling off and breaking another rib. Please don't make difficulties. I'mgoing with you, and that's an end of it."

  Perhaps the firmness of her manner made Buck realize the futility offurther protest, or possibly he was in no condition to argue. At allevents he gave in, and when the girl swung herself into the sadd
le, theslow journey began.

  To Mary Thorne the memory of it remained ever afterward in her mind achaotic medley of strange emotions and impressions, vague yet vivid. Atfirst, where the width of the trail permitted it, she rode beside him,making an effort to talk casually and lightly, yet not too constantly, butcontinually keeping a watchful eye on the drooping figure at her right,whose hands presently sought and gripped the saddle-horn.

  When they left the trail for rougher ground, she dismounted in spite ofBuck's protest, and walked beside him, and it was well she did. Once whenthe horse slipped or stumbled on a loose stone and the man's body swayedperilously in the saddle, she put up both hands swiftly and held himthere.

  Before they had gone a mile her boots began to hurt her, but the pain wasso trifling in comparison with what Buck must be suffering that shescarcely noticed it. He was putting up a brave front, but there were signsthat were difficult to conceal, and toward the end of that toilsomejourney it was evident that he could not possibly have kept his seat muchlonger. Indeed, when they had ridden the short length of the little canyonand stopped before the overhanging shelf of rocks, he toppled suddenlysidewise, and only the girl's frail body prevented him from crashingroughly to the ground.

  She brought him water from the spring, and searching through hisbelongings found a flask of brandy and forced some between his teeth. Whenhe had recovered from his momentary faintness, she managed somehow to gethim over to the blankets spread beneath the ledge. Then she built a fireand set some coffee on it to boil, unsaddled Pete, fed and watered thethree horses, finally returning with a cup of steaming liquid to whereBuck lay exhausted with closed eyes.

  His face was drawn and haggard, and his lashes, long and soft and thick,lay against a skin drained of every particle of color. A sudden chokingsob rose to the girl's lips, but she managed to force it back, and whenthe man's lids slowly lifted, she smiled tremulously.

  "Here's some coffee," she said, kneeling down and holding the rim of thecup to his lips.

  Buck drank obediently in slow gulps.

  "You're all nerve," he murmured when the cup was empty. He lay silent fora few moments. "Don't you think you'd better be starting back?" he askedat length.

  "How can I go and leave you like this?" she protested. "You're so weak.You might get fever. Anything might happen."

  "But you certainly can't stay," he retorted with unexpected decision. "Letalone a whole lot of other reasons," he went on, watching her mutinousface, "if you did, Tex would have a posse out hunting for you in no time.Sooner or later they'd find this place, and you know what that would mean.I'm feeling better every minute--honest. By to-morrow I'll be able tohobble around and look after myself fine."

  His logic was irresistible, and for a time she sat silent, torn by aconflict of emotions. Then all at once her face brightened.

  "I've got it!" she cried. "Why can't I send Bud out? He's to be trustedsurely?"

  Buck's eyes lit up in a way that brought to the girl a curious, jealouspang.

  "Bud? Sure, he's all right. That's one fine idea. You'll have to becareful Lynch doesn't know where he's going, though."

  "I'll manage that all right."

  Reluctant to go, yet feeling that she ought to make haste, the girl gotout some crackers and placed them, with a pail of water, within his reach.Then she listened while Stratton told her of a short cut out to the middlepasture.

  "I understand," she nodded. "You'll promise to be careful, won't you? Budought to be here in a couple of hours, though he may be delayed a littlelonger. You'd better not try and move until he comes."

  "I won't," Buck answered. "I'm too darn comfortable."

  "Well, good-by, then," she said briefly, moving over to her horse.

  "Good-by; and--thank you a thousand times!"

  She made no answer, but a faint, enigmatic smile quivered for an instanton her lips as she turned the stirrup and swung herself into the saddle.When Freckles had reached a little distance, she glanced back and wavedher hand. From where he lay Stratton could see almost the whole length ofthe little canyon, and as long as the slight figure on the big gray horseremained in sight, his eyes followed her intently, a sort of wistfulhunger in their depths. But when she disappeared, the man's head fell backlimply on the blankets and his eyes closed.