Hidden Gold

by Wilder Anthony

  CHAPTER XIX

  BAFFLED, BUT STILL DANGEROUS

  When Trowbridge left Dorothy Purnell, promising to find his friend forher sake, he had assumed a confidence that he was far from feeling. Noman knew the country thereabout any better than he did, and he realizedthat there was, at best, only a meager chance of trailing the miscreantwho had succeeded in trapping his victim somewhere in the mountains. Aweaker man would have paused in dismay at the hopelessness of the taskhe had undertaken, but Lem Trowbridge was neither weak nor capable offeeling dismay, or of acknowledging hopelessness. Time enough for allthat after he should have failed. In the meantime it was up to him tofollow Moran. He had learned from Santry of the place where Wade wasstricken down, but how far from there, or in what direction he had beentaken, was a matter of conjecture only, and the only way to learn was totrail the party that had undoubtedly carried the helpless man awayperhaps to his death, but possibly, and more probably, to hold himcaptive.

  Desperate as he knew Moran to be, he did not believe that the immediatemurder of Gordon Wade was planned. That would be poor strategy and Moranwas too shrewd to strike in that fashion.

  It seemed clear enough that parley of some sort was intended but knowingboth Wade and Moran as he did, Trowbridge realized that in order to beof any assistance, he must be on the spot without delay. He had plannedrapidly and he now acted rapidly.

  One of his men was stationed at the big pine, as he had told Dorothy,but all the others in his employ rode with him as swiftly as the besthorses on his ranch could carry them, to the spot Santry had told himof. There they found unmistakable traces of half a dozen or more horses,besides the footprints of Wade's mount, and a brief examination wasenough to show which way the party had gone. Undoubtedly they had takenWade with them, so the pursuing party followed.

  It was one thing to follow, however, and another thing to overtake.Moran was better versed in the intricacies of big cities than in thoseof the wilderness, but he was shrewd enough to realize that Wade'sfriends would start an instant search, as soon as they should miss theranchman, and it was no part of his plans to be taken by surprise.

  Therefore, as soon as he had had his victim thrown into the prison fromwhich escape seemed impossible, Moran selected a camp site nearby, fromwhich he had a view of the surrounding country for miles around in everydirection, and scanning the horizon carefully after his vain attempt tointimidate Wade, he saw Trowbridge's party approaching, while they werestill half a dozen miles away.

  His first thought was to stay where he was and give battle. In this hewould have had a good chance of victory, for, by opening fire onTrowbridge and his followers as they came up, he could undoubtedly havepicked off three or four of them before they reached him, and so securedodds in his own favor, if it should come to an immediate encounter.

  Second thought, however, showed him the folly of such a course. Therewas too much remaining for him to do, and the temporary advantage hemight gain would not compensate him for the havoc it would make in hisultimate designs. He therefore called Goat Neale aside and said:"There's a party of Wade's friends coming up from the East, looking forhim, and I've got to lead them away. You stay here, but keep in hidingand take care that nobody learns where Wade is. He'll live for a fewdays without grub and I'll come back and tend to his case after I've gotthis party going round in circles.

  "You stay, and the rest of us will all ride off to the north, andthey'll think we have Wade with us, so they'll follow us, but we'll losethem somewhere on the way. Sabe?"

  Neale demurred at first to the plan, but consented willingly enough whenMoran promised him extra pay; so he stayed, and we already know theresult. Moran, however, followed out his plans successfully enough, andbefore night he reached Crawling Water in safety, while Trowbridge,getting word through one of his scouts of Wade's rescue, abandoned thepursuit. He had been prepared to shoot Moran down at sight, but he wasready enough to leave that work to the man who had a better claim tothe privilege than he had.

  Accordingly Moran had ridden into town, exhausted by the exertions ofhis trip, and had slept for twelve hours before thinking of anythingelse. When he learned on awakening of all that had happened during hisabsence, he was furious with rage. Tug Bailey had been arrested and wason his way to Crawling Water in custody. Senator Rexhill and Helen hadtaken an Eastward-bound train without leaving any word for him, and tocrown it all, he presently learned that Neale had been shot and Wade hadbeen found, and that the whole countryside was aflame with indignation.

  It was characteristic of the man that even in this emergency he had nothought of following his cowardly accomplice in flight. It might behopeless to stay and fight, but he was a fighting man, and he reallyexulted in the thought of the inevitable struggle that was coming.

  Sitting alone in his office studying the situation, he felt the need ofliquor even more strongly than usual, though the habit had grown on himof late, and accordingly he drank again and again, increasing his ragethereby, but getting little help towards a solution of his difficulties.

  He was enraged most of all at Wade's escape from Coyote Springs and wasstill puzzled to think how this had happened, for Senator Rexhill inleaving had kept his own counsel on that point, and Moran did not dreamof his having betrayed the secret.

  Not only had the ranchman been able to turn another trick in the gameby escaping, but he had also evaded Moran's intended vengeance, for thelatter had had no thought of letting his prisoner go alive. He had meantfirst to secure Wade's signature, and then to make away with him socleverly as to escape conviction for the act.

  He realized now, when it was too late, that he had acted toodeliberately in that matter, and he was sorry for it. He considered thedeparture of the Rexhills a cowardly defection. He was furious to thinkthat Helen had refused to listen to him while she stayed, or to saygood-by to him before leaving. The sting of these various reflectionsled him to take further pull at a silver flask which he kept in hispocket, and which bore the inscription, "To Race Moran from his friendsof the Murray Hill Club."

  "So," he muttered, chewing his mustache, "that's what I get for stickingto Rexhill." Leaning back in his swivel chair, he put his feet up on thedesk and hooked his fingers in the arm-holes of his vest. "Well, I ain'tready to run yet, not by a jugful."

  In his decision to remain, however, he was actuated by a desire to closewith Wade, and not by any enthusiasm for the cause of the hired rascalswho were so loudly singing his praise. They were not cowards, nor washe, but he had had too much experience with such people to be deludedinto believing that, when the showdown came, they would think ofanything but their own precious skins. He had heard rumors of theactivity of the cattlemen but he discounted such rumors because of manyfalse alarms in the past. He would not be frightened off; he determinedto remain until there was an actual clash of arms, in the hope thatevents would so work out as to allow him a chance to get back, andseverely, at Wade.

  He got to his feet and rolled about the room, like a boozy sailor,puffing out volumes of smoke and muttering beneath his breath. When hehad worked off some of his agitation, the big fellow seated himselfagain, shrugged his massive shoulders, and lapsed into an alcoholicreverie. He was applying his inflamed brain to the problem of vengeance,when hurried footsteps on the stairs aroused him. Going to the door, heflung it open and peered out into the dimly lighted hallway.

  "Hello, Jed!" he exclaimed, upon finding that the newcomer was one ofhis "heelers." "What d'you want? Hic!" He straightened up with aludicrous assumption of gravity.

  "The night riders! They've...." The man was breathless and visiblypanic-stricken.

  "Riders? Hic! What riders?" Moran growled. "Out with it, youjelly-fish!"

  "The ranchers--the cattlemen--they've entered the town: they're on thewarpath. Already a lot of our fellows have been shot up."

  "The hell they have! How long ago? Where?"

  "Other end of town. Must be two hundred or more. I hustled down here toput you wise to the play."

&n
bsp; "Thanks!" said Moran laconically. "You're headed in the right direction,keep going!"

  But the man lingered, while Moran, as lightly as a cat, despite hisgreat bulk and the liquor he carried, sprang to the nearest window. Farup the street, he could distinguish a huddled mass, pierced by flashesof fire, which he took to be horsemen; as he watched, he heard scatteredshots and a faint sound of yelling. The one hasty glance told him allthat he needed to know; he had not thought this move would come so soon,but luck seemed to be against him all around. Something of a fatalist,in the final analysis, he no longer wasted time in anger or regrets. Hewas not particularly alarmed, and would not have been so could he haveknown the truth, that the yelling he had heard marked the passing of TugBailey, who had confessed but had made his confession too late to pleasethe crowd, which had him in its power. Nevertheless, Moran realized thatthere was no time now to form his men into anything like organizedresistance. The enemy had caught him napping, and the jig was up. He hadseen the vigilantes work before, and he knew that if he intended to savehis own skin he must act quickly. When he turned from the window, shortthough the interval had been, he had formed a plan of escape.

  "They've brought every man they could rake up," Jed added. "I reckonthey've combed every ranch in the county to start this thing."

  Moran looked up quickly, struck by the significance of the remark. If itwere true, and it probably was, then Wade's ranch also would bedeserted. He half opened his mouth, as though to confide in hiscompanion, when he evidently concluded to keep his own counsel.

  "All right," he said simply. "I guess there's still plenty of time. I'vegot a good horse at the lower end of the street. Take care of yourself.So long!"

  The man clattered down the stairs, and Moran turned to his desk, fromwhich he took some papers and a roll of money, which he stuffed into hispockets. In the hallway he paused for a moment to examine a wickedlooking revolver, which he took from his hip pocket; for, contrary tothe custom of the country, he did not wear his gun openly in a holster.Convinced that the weapon was in good working order, he walked calmlydown to the street, sobered completely by this sudden call on hisreserve powers.

  His horse, a large, rawboned gray, was where he had left it, and shakinghis fist in the direction of the vigilantes, he mounted and rode off. Hemeant to make a wide detour and then work back again to the Double Arrowrange. If the ranch were really deserted, he meant to fire thebuildings, before attempting his escape. Such a revenge would be atrifle compared to that which he had planned, but it would be betterthan nothing, while one more offense would not lengthen his term in jailany, if he were caught afterward. He felt in his pocket for the whiskeyflask, and swore when he found it missing. He wanted the liquor, but hewanted the flask more, for its associations; he drew rein and thought ofreturning to search for it, but realizing the folly of this, he pressedon again.

  The round-about way he took was necessarily a long one and the rideentirely sobered him, except for a crawling sensation in his brain, asthough ants were swarming there, which always harassed him after adebauch. At such times he was more dangerous than when under the firstinfluence of whiskey. It was close upon noon, and the silvery sagebrushwas shimmering beneath the direct rays of the sun, when he rode hislathered horse out of a cottonwood grove to gaze, from the edge of adeep draw, at Wade's ranch buildings. That very morning a gaunt, graytimber-wolf had peered forth at almost the same point; and despiteMoran's bulk, there was a hint of a weird likeness between man and beastin the furtive suspicious survey they made of the premises. The wolf hadfinally turned back toward the mountains, but Moran advanced. Althoughhe was reasonably certain that the place was deserted, a degree ofcaution, acquired overnight, led him first to assure himself of thefact. He tied his horse to a fence post and stealthily approached thehouse to enter by the back door.

  Dorothy was alone in the building, for her mother had gone with theoverly confident Barker to pick blackberries, and the Chinese cook wastemporarily absent. The girl was making a bed, when the door swung open,and she turned with a bright greeting, thinking that her mother hadreturned. When she saw Moran leering at her, the color fled from hercheeks, in a panic of fright which left her unable to speak or move. Shewas looking very pretty and dainty in a cool, fresh gown, which fittedher neatly, and her sleeves were rolled up over her shapely forearms,for the task of housekeeping which she had assumed. In her innocent way,she would have stirred the sentiment in any man, and to the inflamedbrute before her she seemed all the more delectable because helpless.Here was a revenge beyond Moran's wildest dreams. To her he appeared theincarnation of evil, disheveled, mud-splashed and sweaty, as his puffedand blood-shot eyes feasted on her attractiveness.

  "Good morning!" He came into the room and closed the door. "I didn'texpect to find you, but since you're here, I'll stop long enough toreturn your visit of the other night. That's courteous, ain't it?"

  Dorothy gulped down the lump in her throat, but made no reply. Realizingthe importance of a show of bravery, she was fighting to conquer herpanic.

  "You're sure a good-looking kid," he went on, trying to approach her;but she put the width of the bed between him and herself. "Each time Isee you, you're better looking than you were the last time. Say, thatlast time, we were talking some about a kiss, weren't we, when we wereinterrupted?"

  "Mr. Wade may come in at any moment," Dorothy lied desperately, havingfound her tongue at last. "You'd better not let him find you here."

  "I shouldn't mind," Moran said nonchalantly. "Fact is, on my way out ofthe country, I thought I'd pay a farewell call on my good friend, Wade.I'm real sorry he ain't here--and then again I'm not. I'll--I'll leavemy visiting card for him, anyhow." He chuckled, a nasty, throaty,mirthless chuckle that sent chills up and down the girl's spine. "Say,what's the matter with giving me that kiss now? There's nobody around tointerrupt us this time."

  Dorothy shuddered, for already she had divined what was in his mind. Theavid gleam in his eyes had warned her that he would not restrain himselffor long, and summoning all her strength and courage, she prepared tomeet the fearful crisis she must face.

  "Will you please go?"

  "No!" Moran chuckled again, and stepped toward her. "Will you come to menow, or shall I go after you?"

  "You brute! You coward!" she cried, when she found herself, after adesperate struggle, held firmly in his grasp.

  She screamed, then, at the top of her lung power until his hand fellfirmly across her mouth, and she could only struggle with the madstrength of desperation. Her muscles could offer him no effectiveresistance, although for a moment the sudden fury of her attack drovehim back, big though he was; but it was only for a moment. It gave her achance to scream once more; then, closing in upon her, he seized heragain in his ape-like embrace. She fought like a cornered wild-cat, butslowly and surely he was bending her to his will. Her nails were leavingraw marks upon him, until the blood ran down his face, and presentlycatching between her teeth one of the fingers of the hand which gaggedher, she bit it so fiercely that he cried out in pain.

  "Curse you, you little she-devil," he grunted savagely. "I'll make youpay twice for that!"

  "Gordon! Oh, come to me! Quick! Quick!"

  Quivering all over, she sank on her knees before the brute whoconfronted her, a figure of distress that must have appealed to theheart of any man above the level of a beast. But in the heat of passionand rage, Moran had lost kinship with even the beasts themselves. Lustburned in his eyes and twisted his features horribly as he seized heragain, exhausted by the brave struggle she had made, and all buthelpless in his grasp.

  "Gordon! Mother! Barker! Save me! Oh, my God!"