CHAPTER XXXII
BUCK RIDES
Presently Mrs. Archer released her spasmodic grip on Stratton's flannelshirt and fumbled for her handkerchief.
"I'm a fool to--to waste time like this," she faltered, dabbing her eyeswith the crumpled square of cambric.
"I think you're rather wonderful," returned Buck gently. He helped her toa chair. "Sit down here, and when you're able, tell us justwhat--happened."
Her hands dropped suddenly to her lap and she looked up at him with wide,blazing eyes. Bud had approached and stood on the other side of the chair,listening intently.
"It was that creature Lynch," she said in a voice that trembled a littlewith anger and indignation. "He was the one who rode up on horseback. Itwas Pedro who was hidden in the loft. Mary told you about that before thetelephone went dead."
"The wire was cut," muttered Stratton. "That must have been the greaser'swork."
She gave a quick nod. "Very likely. He's equal to anything. They met justoutside the door and talked together. It seemed as if they'd never leaveoff whispering. Mary was over by the telephone and I stood here. She hadthat revolver, which she'd found in the other room." Her eyes indicatedthe weapon on the table, and Buck was conscious of a queer thrill as herecognized it as his own. "We waited. At last the--the beast pounded atthe door and called to us to open. We didn't stir. Then he threw himselfagainst the door, which cracked. Mary cried out that if he tried to forceit, she'd shoot. The creature only laughed, and when she did fire, thebullet went wild."
She paused an instant, her fingers twitching at the handkerchief claspedin her lap.
"And then he broke in?" questioned Buck, in a hard voice.
She nodded. "Yes. I fired once, but it did no good. Before I could shootagain, Pedro came up from behind and snatched the revolver away. He musthave forced his way into the kitchen. He threw me into a chair, whileLynch went after Mary."
Buck's lips were pressed tightly together; his face was hard as stone."Didn't she fire again?"
"No, I don't know why. I couldn't see very well. Something may have gonewrong with the revolver; perhaps she had scruples. I should have hadnone." Mrs. Archer's small, delicate face looked almost savage. "I'd havegloried in shooting the brute. At any rate, she didn't, and he took theweapon away from her and flung it on the table."
Again she hesitated briefly, overcome by her emotions. Stratton's face wasstony, save for a momentary ripple of the muscles about his mouth.
"And then?" he questioned.
"I--I tried to go to her, but Pedro held me in the chair." Mrs. Archerdrew a long, quivering breath. "Lynch had her by the wrist; I heard himsay something about not hurting her; and then he said, quite plainly, thatsince she'd got him in this mess, she'd have to get him out. I couldn'tunderstand, but all at once I realized that if they did--take her away,they'd probably tie me up, or something, to prevent my giving the alarm,and so I pretended to faint."
She lifted her handkerchief to her lips and let it fall again. "It wasn'teasy to lie still in that chair and see the dear child--being draggedaway. But I knew I'd be quite helpless against those two villains.She--she didn't struggle much; perhaps she hadn't the strength." The oldlady's voice shook, and she began again plucking nervously at herhandkerchief. "The minute they were out of the door, I got up and followedthem. I thought perhaps I might be able to see which way they went. It waspitch-dark, and I crept along beside the house to the corner. I could justsee their outlines over by the corral. Pedro was saddling two horses.When he had done, that creature, Lynch, made Mary mount and got on his ownhorse, which he had been leading. Then the two men began to talk. Icouldn't hear everything, but it sounded as if they were arranging to meetsomewhere. They gave the name of a place."
Her eyes searched Buck's face with a troubled, anxious scrutiny. "So manyArizona towns have a foreign sound, but somehow I--I've never even heardof Santa Clara."
"Santa Clara!" burst out Bud. "Why, that's over in Sonora. If he shouldget her across the border--"
Mrs. Archer sprang to her feet and caught Stratton by one arm. "Mexico!"she cried hysterically. "Oh, Buck! You must save her from that creature!You mustn't let him--"
"He sha'n't. Don't worry," interrupted Stratton harshly. "Tell me asquickly as you can what else you heard. Was there anything said about theway he meant to take?"
Mrs. Archer clenched her small hands and fought bravely for self-control."He said he--he might be delayed. He didn't dare take the road throughPerilla, and the trail through the mountains was probably blocked by thesheriff." Her forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. "He said the only way wasto--to go through the pass and turn south along the edge of the T-T land.That--that was all."
Buck's face lighted with somber satisfaction. "It's a good bit," he saidbriefly. "When they started off did you notice which way they went?"
"Pedro rode past the house toward the lower gate. Lynch went straight downthe slope toward the bunk-house. He was leading Mary's horse. I ran alittle way after them and saw them cross the creek this side of the middlepasture gate."
Buck shot a glance at Jessup. "The north pasture!" he muttered. "He knowsthere'll be no one around there, and it'll be the safest way to reach theT-T trail. I'll saddle a fresh cayuse and be off." He turned to Mrs.Archer. "Don't you worry," he said, with a momentary touch on her shoulderthat was at once a caress and an assurance. "I'll bring her back."
"You must!" she cried. "They said something--It isn't possible that hecan--force her to--to marry him?"
"A lot of things are possible, but he won't have the chance," repliedStratton grimly. "Bud, you stay here with Mrs. Archer, and I'll--"
"Oh, no!" protested the old lady. "You must both go. I don't need any one.I'm not afraid of being here alone. No one will come--now."
"Why couldn't I go after Hardenberg and get him to take a bunch around thesouth end of the hills," suggested Jessup quickly. "They might be able tohead him off."
"All right," nodded Stratton curtly. "Go to it."
Inaction had suddenly grown intolerable. He would have agreed to anythingsave the suggestion that he delay his start even for another sixtyseconds. With a hurried good-by to Mrs. Archer, he hastened from the room,swung into his saddle, and rode swiftly around to the corral. A briefsearch through the darkness showed him that only a single horse remainedthere. He lost not a moment in roping the animal, and was transferring hissaddle from Pete, when Bud appeared.
"You'll have to catch a horse from the _remuda_," he said briefly. "I'vetaken the last one. Turn Pete into the corral, will you, and give him alittle feed." Straightening up, he turned the stirrup, mounted swiftly,and spurred his horse forward. "So-long," he called back over oneshoulder.
The thud of hoofs drowned Bud's reply, and as the night closed about him,Buck gave a faint sigh of relief. There was a brief delay at the gate, andthen, heading northwest, he urged the horse to a canter.
He was taking a chance in following this short cut through the middlepasture, but he felt he had no choice. To attempt to trail Lynch would befutile, and if he waited until dawn, the scoundrel would be hopelessly inthe lead. He knew of only one pass through the mountains to T-T ground,and for this he headed, convinced that it was also Lynch's goal, andpraying fervently that the scoundrel might not change his mind.
He was under no delusions as to the task which lay before him. Lynch wouldbe somewhat handicapped by the presence of the girl, especially if hecontinued to lead her horse. But he had a good hour's start, and once inthe mountains the handicap would vanish. The chase was likely to beprolonged, particularly as Lynch knew every foot of the mountain trail andthe country beyond, which Stratton had never seen.
But the presence of difficulties only strengthened Buck's resolution andconfidence. As he sped on through the luminous darkness, the cool nightwind brushing his face, a seething rage against Tex Lynch dominated him.Now and then the thought of Mary Thorne came to torture him. Vividly hepictured the scene at the ranch-house which Mrs. Archer had described
,imagining the girl's fear and horror and despair, then and afterward, witha realism which made him wince. But always his mind flashed back to theman who was to blame for it all, and with savage curses he pledged himselfto a reckoning.
And so, with mind divided between alternating spasms of tenderness andfury, he came at last to the further side of middle pasture and dismountedto let down the fence. It was characteristic of the born and bred ranchmanthat instead of riding swiftly on and letting the cut wires dangle, heautomatically obeyed one of the hard and fast rules of the range andfastened them behind him. He did not pause again until he reached thelittle sheltered nook in the face of the high cliffs, out of which led thetrail.
Had those two passed yet, or were they still out there somewhere in thesandy wastes of north pasture? He wondered as he reined in his horse. Hescarcely dared hope that already he could have forestalled the craftyLynch, but it was important to make sure. And so, slipping out of thesaddle, he flung the reins over the roan's head and, walking forward a fewsteps, lit a match and searched the ground carefully for any signs.
Three matches had been consumed before he found what he was lookingfor--the fresh prints of two horses leading toward the trail. Hastilyreturning to his cayuse, he swung into the saddle and headed the roantoward the grade. They were ahead of him, then; but how far?
It was impossible to make any speed along the rough uncertainties of thisrocky trail, but Buck wasted no time. Down in the further hollow he turnedaside to the spring, not knowing when he would again find water for hishorse. He did not dismount, and as the roan plunged velvet nozzle into thespring, a picture rose in Buck's mind of that other day--how long ago itseemed!--when he himself, sagging painfully in the saddle, had sucked thewater with as great an eagerness out of a woman's soggy Stetson, and then,over the limp brim, gazed gratefully into a pair of tender hazel eyeswhich tried in vain to mask anxiety beneath a surface of lightness.
He bit his lips and struck the saddle-horn fiercely with one clenchedfist. When the horse had finished drinking, he turned him swiftly and,regaining the trail, pushed on feverishly at reckless speed.
About an hour later the first pale signs of dawn began to lighten thedarkness. Slowly, gradually, almost imperceptibly, a cold gray crept intothe sky, blotting out the stars. Little by little the light strengthened,searching out shadowy nooks and corners, revealing this peak or that,widening the horizon, until at length the whole, wide, tumbled mass ofpeak and precipice, of canyon, valley, and tortuous, twisted mountain traillay revealed in all its grim, lifeless, forbidding desolation.
From his point of vantage at the summit of a steep grade, Buck halted andstared ahead with a restless, keen eagerness. He could see the trailcurving over the next rise, and farther still he glimpsed a tiny patch ofit rounding the shoulder of a hill. But it was empty, lifeless; and as heloosed the reins and touched the roan lightly with a spur, Stratton's facegrew blank and hard again.
From somewhere amongst the rocks the long-drawn, quavering howl of acoyote sounded mournfully.
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