The Trail Horde

by Charles Alden Seltzer

  CHAPTER XLII

  GOING EAST

  Within fifteen minutes after he had left Ruth Hamlin with Slade at theside door of the Wolf, Warden had sent a telegram to Lawler, at thecapital, informing him that the girl might be found at the brothel withthe outlaw. He had signed no name to the telegram, but that did notlessen the venomous satisfaction he felt over sending it.

  It had been nearly eleven o'clock when Warden sent the wire and allowingfor some minutes of waste time before the message could be delivered,and the space of time that must elapse before Lawler could reachWillets--even if he came on a special train--he knew that Lawler couldnot arrive before the early hours of the morning.

  Lawler, Warden knew, would be in a killing mood when he reached Willets.And he knew, also, that Slade would be waiting for Lawler, and that hewould kill Lawler on sight.

  Slade would have to kill Lawler, for Lawler, as governor, had the powerto be revenged upon the outlaw for the abduction of Ruth; and Sladewould know that Lawler would use that power to the limit. If Sladekilled Lawler, that would be another matter. The outlaw would have tohide, to evade the clutches of the law. But hiding was not more thanSlade had been accustomed to for years, and that necessity would workno hardship upon him.

  That was Warden's reasoning. Perhaps it was faulty, for it hinged uponthe vagaries of a wanton character who could not be depended upon. ButWarden had to take that chance.

  And Warden's reasoning, of late, had been influenced by his passionatehatred of Lawler. That hatred had warped his judgment until he hadbecome a creature guided by the savage impulses that filled his brain.

  When he left Slade and Ruth at the door of the Wolf, he went directly tohis office, taking Singleton with him. He lit a kerosene lamp, built afire in the small stove that stood in a corner; seated himself in achair, motioned Singleton to another, lit a cigar and smoked--his eyesgleaming with the vindictive joy he felt.

  However, the cigar in his mouth was not half smoked, when from adistance, on the steady west wind, was borne to his ears the faint,wailing shriek of a locomotive whistle.

  The cigar drooped from his lips and he looked swiftly at Singleton.Singleton had heard the sound, too, for his eyes had narrowed and hisattitude had become tense.

  That both men had the same thought was evidenced by the glance theyexchanged--incipient apprehension.

  "It's a freight, likely," muttered Singleton.

  Warden took a nervous puff at his cigar. Then he got up, walked to awindow and stood, looking out into the night. He stood there for a fewminutes, Singleton watching him--until the whistle shrieked again and amuffled roar reached their ears. Then Warden turned, his face ashen.

  "Singleton, it's a special!" he said, jerkily; "an engine and one car!"

  Singleton got up and walked to the window, beside Warden. As they stoodthere, they saw the train stop at the station. They saw, in the dimlight from the coach, the figure of a tall man alight and dart acrossthe platform, to vanish in the shadow of the station. Simultaneously,there came to their ears the staccato reports of pistols, the soundsrendered faint and muffled by distance.

  Singleton flashed around, his face pale and his eyes bulging.

  "It's Lawler! I'd know him among a million! An' somethin's happened atthe Wolf. That's where the shootin' is! Warden," he said, nervously; "itlooks like there's goin' to be hell to pay!"

  Warden's face was ashen, but he laughed.

  "Don't worry, Singleton; Slade will take care of Lawler," he said. Butthe words carried no conviction with them--they had been uttered withoutexpression.

  Warden walked to the door and gazed down the dimly lighted stairway.There was suppressed excitement in his manner, nervous anxiety in hiseyes. He walked back into the room, threw his cigar into a cuspidor, andstood with his back to the stove, listening.

  Singleton said nothing; though his lips had settled into a pout and hiseyes had a sullen, malignant expression. He, too, was wishing--whatWarden was wishing--that Slade would kill Lawler. The death of Lawlerwould make the future safe for both of them; it would remove a menace totheir lives and a barrier to their schemes for the autocratic control ofthe cattle industry.

  But they doubted. Deep in their hearts lurked a fear that something hadgone wrong--which thought was suggested by the sounds of the shootingthey had heard.

  Singleton had become afflicted with the nervousness that had seizedWarden. The pout on his lips grew; he cast startled, inquiring glancestoward the door. And at last, as they stood silent, looking at eachother, there came a sound--close; the sound of a man walking in thestreet. As they listened the sound came closer, reached the front of thebuilding. Then they heard it on the stairs. Warden stiffened, andSingleton drew his gun. An instant later the door crashed inward, andLawler stood in the opening, his eyes flaming with the cold wrath thathad been in them on the day when, after he had killed Antrim, he hadcome to Warden's office for a like purpose.

  There was no word spoken. Lawler saw the gun in Singleton's hand. Heleaped quickly to one side as Singleton pulled the trigger--the smokestreak touching his clothing as he moved. He leaped again as Singletonshot at him a second time. This time he was so close to Singleton thatthe powder burned his face. And before Singleton could shoot againLawler struck--with the precision and force that he had put into hisblows that day in the schoolhouse.

  Singleton reeled headlong across the room, bringing up against thefarther wall, striking it with his head and tumbling to the floor besideit.

  Then, his lips set stiffly, his eyes flaming with a fire that broughtterror into Warden's heart, he faced the other.

  "Now, damn you; I'll teach you to make war on women!" He leaped forward,striking at Warden with terrific energy.

  * * * * *

  Still struggling in Shorty's arms, Ruth heard Singleton's shots. Shebroke away from Shorty, noting with dull astonishment that Shorty seemedalmost to have permitted it, and ran down the street toward Warden'soffice. As she ran she heard a tumult behind her, and steps close besideher. She glanced swiftly over her shoulder, to see Shorty beside her.The giant was taking steps that dwarfed hers, and while she looked athim he drew past her. She heard him muttering as he passed--caught hiswords:

  "Lawler ain't got no gun--I seen that!"

  She ran faster than ever at that, and when Shorty reached the foot ofthe stairs leading to Warden's office she was at his heels.

  There were other men behind her--a multitude. She felt them pressingclose behind her as she ran up the stairs. But she did not look back,for she heard sounds of a conflict in Warden's office--the thud and jarof blows, the crashing of furniture overturned and smashed; thescuffling of feet on the floors--and screams of rage--in Warden'svoice.

  When she reached the top of the stairs and looked into the room betweenShorty's shoulder and the door jamb, she screamed with apprehension. Forshe saw Singleton, with blood dripping from a huge gash in his cheek, inthe act of picking up a pistol that, evidently, had fallen on the floorduring the fight that must have raged in the room.

  Singleton's face was hideous with rage. It was evident that he did notsee Shorty and herself at the door--and that he had not heard thetramping of the many feet on the stairs. He was apparently oblivious toeverything but the fact that the pistol was there and that he had anopportunity to use it.

  Ruth saw Warden and Lawler fighting in a corner. Warden's back wasagainst the wall, near the stove. He was facing the door. His lips werelacerated, drooling blood, his eyes were puffed and blackened, and hewas screaming and cursing insanely.

  As Ruth watched, her gaze taking in the wreck of the room--and Singletonpicking up the pistol--she saw Lawler strike Warden--a full sweepingblow that sent forth a sodden deadening sound as it landed.

  Warden sagged, his eyes closing as he slid to the floor and sat in thecorner his legs doubled under him, his chin on his chest.

  The scene had held only for an instant--merely while Ruth screamed. Thesound had hardly died away when
Singleton succeeded in grasping thepistol. Ruth tried to squeeze past Shorty, to prevent the tragedy thatseemed imminent. But Shorty's quick, flashing motion checked her--madeinterference by her unnecessary. There was a flash at Shorty's side,and the crash of his pistol rocked the air in the room and the hallway.Singleton straightened, turned slowly, looked full at Shorty. Thenwithout uttering a sound he pitched forward, almost at Lawler's feet.

  The roar of the pistol brought Lawler around so that he faced the door.He saw Shorty and Ruth and the others behind them, but gave no sign. Hisrage had left him; he seemed coldly deliberate. The only sign of passionabout him was in his eyes. They were narrowed, and pin points of fireappeared to flame in them. As though there were no witnesses to what hewas doing, he stooped, lifted Warden and threw him over his shoulder.The crowd gave way before him as he started for the stairs--even Ruthand Shorty stepping aside to let him pass. They watched him wonderinglyas he carried his burden down the stairs and out into the street. Andthen as he walked they followed him.

  He went straight across the street, past some low buildings, and over avacant stretch between the buildings and the station. The crowd followedhim--Ruth and Shorty closely, silently watching.

  The special train in which he had come was still standing beside thestation platform, the engine panting as though from its long runeastward. Ruth noted that the train crew was on the platform near theengine, interestedly watching the approach of Lawler carrying hisburden.

  Lawler walked to the rear end of the coach and threw Warden bodily uponit. Then he turned and motioned toward the conductor. The latterapproached him warily, seeming doubtful of what might be in store forhim from a man, who though governor--thus carried the body of a man onhis shoulder. But he listened respectfully when he observed the clearsanity of Lawler's eyes.

  "This man is leaving Willets--immediately!" said Lawler. "He's goingEast, to the end of this line--at my expense. When he regainsconsciousness you will tell him what I have said."

  "It's Warden, ain't it?" grinned the conductor. "Well, I'll be glad totake him. But I'll have to wire for orders. This guy ain't a _bona fide_passenger."

  He strode to the telegraphers window. There was a short wait; and duringthe interval Warden stirred and sat up, swaying from side to side andstaring about him in bewilderment. Lawler stepped forward, leaned overthe platform.

  "Warden," he said; "you are going East. You are not coming back. If youever step a foot into this state again I will send you to prison for aterm that will make you wish you were dead. I have a signed confessionfrom Link and Givens that convicts you of a crime for which this stateprovides an adequate penalty. Do you understand?"

  Warden nodded, wearily, and dropped his chin to his chest. After aninterval, during which the crowd watched him intently, he staggered tohis feet and reeled into the coach, and the crowd saw him no more. Aninstant later the conductor went toward the coach, grinning, signalingthe engineer.

  A low cheer rose from the crowd as the train started, and a man far backtoward the station shouted, loudly:

  "If they hadn't been in such a damned hurry, we'd have raised acollection to send him to hell!"

  A little later Lawler and Ruth and Shorty formed the van of the crowdthat walked down the street toward the Wolf--where the Circle L men hadleft their horses. Ruth walked between Lawler and Shorty. Ruth was verypale, and her lips were trembling. In front of the Willets Hotel--in theflood of light that came through the windows, she clutched at Lawler'ssleeve.

  "Hurry, Kane," she begged; "they have killed daddy!"

  "Don't you believe it, Miss Ruth," said Shorty, softly, into her ear."When I left Joe Hamlin he was a whole lot alive--an' gettin' more aliveright along. I left Andy Miller with him--an' Andy's got more sabe ofmedicine than any doctor in these parts!"

  "Shorty!" she breathed, springing around in front of him and catchinghim by the shoulders--standing on tip-toe to do it. "_Shorty_, you don'tmean it?"

  Shorty laughed lowly. "I'm reckonin' to mean it, Miss Ruth."

  "But how," she questioned, her hands still on his shoulders, her eyeswide and questioning; "how did you happen to go to the Two Bar?"

  "Well, you see, Miss Ruth," laughed the giant--while the crowd which hadfollowed them stood off at a little distance and watched--"it was likethis. Me an' the boys--an' your dad--had been tryin' for a long time toketch Singleton runnin' an iron on the Circle L cattle. Your dad an' mehad run a bunch into that gully near the Two Bar, an' tonight me an' theboys was waitin' in the gully for your dad to bring Singleton there.Your dad had been brandin' stolen stock--at my orders--an' tonight hewas goin' to refuse--makin' Singleton do it. For Singleton was reallydoin' the rustlin'. An' your dad----"

  "Was doing it all for you? Is that what you mean, Shorty?"

  "Why, I reckon, Miss Ruth. You see----"

  Ruth had to leap upward to do it. But somehow the height was achieved.Two arms went around Shorty's neck and Ruth's lips were pressed againsthis with a resounding smack.

  "O Shorty!" she exclaimed as she hugged him tightly, after kissing him;"I just _love_ you!"

  Shorty blushed furiously. As soon as Ruth released him he grinned withembarrassment and walked with giant strides down the street to where heand his men had left the horses, the laughter and jibes of his fellowsfollowing him.