Desert Conquest; or, Precious Waters

by A. M. Chisholm

  CHAPTER XXIV

  It was after midnight when Clyde awoke. She passed from slumber towakefulness instantly, without the usual intervening stages ofdrowsiness.

  Outside a gale was blowing, and volleys of rain pattered like spentshot on windows and roof. Thunder rumbled ceaselessly. A vivid flashrent the outer darkness, illuminating the room, and the succeedingcrack shook the house. It was a storm, rare in the dry belt, of whichthere were not more than one or two in the year. For Casey's sake shehoped that there would be no hail with it. Better continued droughtthan a ruinous bombardment of frozen pellets from the heavens whichwould beat the crops to the ground, utterly destroying them.

  As she lay listening she seemed to hear sounds not of the storm, as ofsome one moving on the veranda. Then came a loud, insistent knocking.She heard the door of Wade's room open, and a long crack of lightbeneath her own showed that he had lit a lamp.

  "Hello! Who's there?" he asked.

  The reply was indistinguishable. A violent blow on the door followedit. She sprang out of bed, threw on a dressing gown, thrust her feetinto slippers, opened her door, and peered out.

  A single hand lamp on the table showed Wade, clad in pajamas andslippers, standing before the door. His attitude expressed uncertainty.He glanced back and saw Clyde.

  "What is it?" she asked. "Who is there?"

  "I don't know," he replied. "There are men out there. They want me toopen the door. Do you know where there's a gun in the house? Ihaven't----"

  The impact of a heavy body cut him short. The lock gave way, and thedoor swung inward. Wade sprang back and caught up a chair. Framed inthe door, silhouetted against the outer blackness, appeared a man. Hishat was pulled low over his eyes. A handkerchief cut with eyeholesconcealed his face. His right hand held a six-shooter, with which hecovered Wade. Back of him, pressing forward, were other armed men.

  "Put that chair down!" he ordered. "Nobody's goin' to hurt you."

  "Glad to hear it!" snapped Wade, who was the fortunate owner ofunlimited sand. "What do you mean by breaking into a house in themiddle of the night and frightening women? If you want money I've gotabout fifty dollars, and that's all. You're welcome to it if you'llclear out."

  "Keep it," the intruder returned contemptuously. He stepped into theroom, followed by four others. "I guess your name is Wade. We don'twant you. We want McHale."

  "Well, I haven't got him," said Wade.

  "Where is he?"

  "What do you want with him?"

  "That's none of your business."

  "All right. If that's so it's none of my business where he is."

  "You'd better make it your business," said the other suggestively.

  "Well, I won't," Wade retorted. "He isn't here, and that'll have to doyou."

  "On general principles it don't do to believe a lawyer. Where's Dunne?"

  "He isn't here, either."

  "I reckon we'll make sure of that." He took a step in the direction ofClyde's room. Wade stepped in front of him.

  "No, you don't, my friend," said he. "That room belongs to a lady. Youkeep out of it."

  The leader stopped. "Well," he said, "I don't want to scare no women;but all the same I'm goin' to see the inside of every room in thishouse. S'pose you knock and tell that lady to fix herself up so's shewon't mind my takin' a look in. I'm goin' to make mighty sure her nameain't McHale."

  Clyde opened the door, and walked into the room. She was surprised tofind that she was not in the least frightened. Said she:

  "Good evening, gentlemen. Do you think I resemble Mr. McHale?"

  "No, ma'am," said the leader; "I don't reckon you favour him much."

  Admiration was apparent in his voice. Clyde smiled at him.

  "Then perhaps you'll take a look at my room now, and allow me to retireagain."

  "I don't need to look there, ma'am," the man replied. "I'm awful sorrywe troubled you."

  "That's the way to talk," said a quiet voice from the door.

  The leader whirled instantly to look into the ominous muzzle of a heavyautomatic held by Casey Dunne.

  "Put that gun down, and your hands up!" snapped Casey. "Quick! Nononsense! I'll kill the first man that tries anything."

  The quiet had gone from his voice; it bit like acid. Strange, hardlights danced in his eyes. The hand that held the gun had not a tremor.Clyde, looking at him, saw and recognized in his face the colddeadliness which she had once seen in McHale's.

  Without an instant's hesitation the leader put his weapon on the table."You win once," he observed.

  "That's sensible," Casey commented. "Now, perhaps you'll tell me whatthis means?"

  "No objection in the world," the other replied coolly. "We wanted tointerview McHale."

  "Is that so? Well, Tom isn't here to-night Mr. Dade. By the way, unlessyou really like it you needn't wear that transformation scheme acrossyour face. Same remark applies to the other gentlemen. I like to knowmy visitors."

  Dade laughed, removing the handkerchief. "Take a good look. You may seeme again."

  "Any time you like, Mr. Dade. And what did you want with McHale?"

  "Well," Dade answered calmly, "we figured that he'd help us take thestretch out of a new rope."

  "Nobody else would do?" queried Casey.

  "We wanted him."

  "I see. And had our mutual friend, Mr. Cross, anything to do with yourdesire? By the way, how _is_ Mr. Cross? Or should I say the late Mr.Cross?"

  "Not yet," Dade replied. "He's got a chance."

  "Then aren't you too previous?"

  "McHale laid for him, and plugged him as he came out of Shiller's,"Dade declared.

  "Cross came out of Shiller's with his gun in his hand to get McHale,"said Casey. "McHale was entitled to shoot. It was an even break."

  "That's not how I heard it."

  "That's what McHale says, and it goes with me."

  "It don't go with me," Dade declared. "Me and Cross is partners--hasbeen for years. I'm out to get McHale, and you can send him word. Ireckon he ain't here, or he'd be obvious."

  "He'd be mighty obvious," Casey agreed. "I may as well tell you, Mr.Dade, that this feud business makes me tired. It's sinful, and, worsethan that, it's out of date. You take notice, now, that we won't standfor it. You've pretty well played out your string here, anyway."

  Dade stared at him. "I reckon you'll have to talk a little plainer,Dunne."

  "Isn't that plain enough? This shooting was square. You let it go as itlies. Otherwise we'll clean up your whole bunch."

  Dade laughed. "That's sure plain," he admitted. "I like nerve, andyou've got it a-plenty, but you ain't got me buffaloed at all. Youheard what I said. It goes."

  "Suit yourself," said Casey. "I'll send McHale word. Anything else Ican do for you to-night?"

  "Not a thing," Dade replied. "We'll be going--unless you want us tostay. I'm sorry we disturbed the lady, but I sure thought McHale was inhere."

  "She'll forgive you," said Casey. "That part of it's all right. Betterthink over what I said. I mean it."

  "So do I," said Dade grimly. "You can send McHale word."

  As Casey closed the door and set a chair against it in place of thedamaged fastenings, Kitty Wade peeped from her room.

  "Are the outlaws g-gone?" she asked.

  "They have went," her husband replied. "You are saved, m'dear. Yourlittle heart may now palpitate in normal palps."

  His wife, looking altogether charming and girlish, emerged.

  "Well, I _was_ frightened," she admitted. "I'd give worlds to be asbrave as Clyde."

  Clyde, feeling Casey's eyes upon her, flushed and gathered her dressinggown closer, conscious for the first time of her attire. "Oh, nonsense,Kitty!" she responded. "I was really shaking in my shoes."

  "You didn't show it," Casey commented. "There isn't one girl in athousand who would have been as cool."

  "I agree with you," said Wade. He put his arm around his wife. "Bettergo back to roost, little girl."

  "Not unti
l I hear all about it," said Kitty. "Go and get a bath robe orsomething, like a good boy. Pajamas are very becoming, and all the bestpeople wear 'em, but----"

  "I beg everybody's pardon!" Wade exclaimed in confusion. "I thought Ihad on my--er--that is, it never struck me that I wasn't clad inorthodox garments." He was back in a moment, swathed in a bath robe."Now, Casey, tell us how you happened to make that stage entrance?"

  "Not much to tell about it," Casey replied. "I had an old Indian beddeddown in the hay in the stable, and he saw or heard this outfit ridingin and woke me up. As a matter of fact, the old boy was just outsidewith a shotgun all the time. We had that much moral support. He came totell me that this outfit meant to get Tom."

  "This McHale business is serious," said Wade.

  "Very serious. I don't mean so far as Tom is concerned; he can takecare of himself. But you can see that we can't allow these men tobulldoze us. It's McHale now. To-morrow it may be some one else."

  "Yes, I see. But what can you do about it? The law----"

  "It's outside the law," said Casey. "The law is too slow. We'll makeour own law. Hello! What's that?"

  He jumped to his feet, gun in hand, as the chair set against the doorscraped back from it. Out of the darkness staggered Sheila McCrae.

  Water dripped from her old pony hat and ran in little rivulets from along, yellow slicker. From head to foot she was spattered with mud. Herface was pale, drawn, and dirt-smeared, and blood oozed slowly from ajagged cut above her left eye. She swayed from side to side as shewalked.

  Kitty Wade cried out; Clyde rose swiftly in quick sympathy. But Caseywas before her.

  "Sheila--girl--what's the matter?" he exclaimed.

  She stretched out her arms to him gropingly.

  "Where's Tom, Casey? They're after him. Maybe they're after you.Father's hurt. Sandy----I can't talk, Casey. I guess--I'm--all in."

  He caught her as she fell forward, lifting her in his arms as easily asif she had been a child, and laid her on a couch.

  "No, no," he said, as Clyde would have put cushions beneath her head."Let her lie flat." He unbuttoned the slicker, and opened her dresshalfway from throat to waist, stripping it away with ruthless hand. Abare shoulder and arm showed bruised and discoloured. "She's been insome mix-up--had a fall or something. Wade, get me some whiskey andwater!" His long fingers closed on her wrist. "She'll be all right infive minutes, unless something's broken. Mrs. Wade, get in here andloosen her corsets. Give her a chance."

  Kitty stooped obediently, and straightened up in amazement."Why--she----"

  "Well, how did I know?" snapped Casey. He ran his hand down her side."No ribs broken; arms all right. Good!"

  Sheila's long lashes fluttered against her cheeks, she sighed andopened her eyes.

  "Casey," she said, "never mind me. Look out for yourself. Where's Tom?There are men coming to-night. I was afraid----"

  "All right, Sheila," he interrupted. "Tom is safe. The men have gone.No trouble at all. Just lie quiet till things steady a little. Have adrink of this."

  Clyde brought water, sponge, and towels. She cleansed Sheila's face andhands, and deftly dressed the cut in her forehead.

  "You make me feel like a baby," said Sheila. "I never fainted before inmy life. I didn't think I could faint. I'm all right now. May I sit up,please?"

  "You may lie up, if you like," Casey replied. "Let me put some pillowsunder you. You've had a bad shake-up, old girl."

  "Beaver Boy fell," she explained, "and threw me. I must have struck myhead. I don't know how I caught him again. I don't remember veryclearly. I had to hang on to the horn sometimes--dizzy, you know. Inever had to pull leather before. He was afraid of the lightning, and Iwasn't strong enough to handle him afterward. The fall took it out ofme. I just had to let him go. He knew it, and acted mean. I'll show himwhose horse he is next time."

  "You rode on your nerve," said Casey. "Tell us all about it. Tell usabout your father and Sandy. You were going to say something when youkeeled over."

  The girl's keen face clouded. "Oh, heavens! Casey, my head can't beright yet. I'd clean forgotten my own people. There's been nothing buttrouble in bunches all day. The drivers ran away this morning, smashedthe rig, threw father out, and broke his leg. This afternoon this manGlass, whom we all took for a harmless nuisance, arrested Sandy."

  "What?" Casey exclaimed.

  "Yes, he did. Glass is a railway detective. He worked quietly, nosingaround the ranches talking to everybody, while the other detectiveattracted all the attention. Nobody suspected Glass. Who would? Anyway,he and another man arrested Sandy for blowing up the dam."

  Casey whistled softly, casting a side glance at Wade.

  "Where's Sandy now? Where did they take him?"

  Sheila laughed, but there was little mirth in it.

  "They didn't take him anywhere, but I don't know where he is. I saw himwith the two men down by the stable. I thought they were talking aboutland. Half an hour afterward he came to the house with his parfleches,and asked me to put him up a couple of weeks' grubstake. He had the menlocked up in the harness room, but he didn't tell me how he had doneit. He took his pack horse and his blankets and hunting outfit, andpulled out. I didn't know what to do. I didn't tell the folks. Theranch hands know, but they won't let the men out. And then it must havebeen after ten o'clock when one of our men told me of the shooting. Hehad heard it from somebody on the road. He said that Cross' friendswere talking of lynching McHale, and perhaps you. I didn't believe itat first, but after a while I got nervous. Everybody was asleep, andanyway there was nobody I could ask to go; so I came myself."

  "And Tom and I will never forget it, Sheila," said Casey. "I don't knowanother girl who could have made it after a fall like that in thisstorm."

  "It was perfectly splendid of you!" cried Kitty Wade, with heartyadmiration.

  Clyde, obeying a sudden impulse, leaned forward and kissed the bruisedforehead. Sheila was unused to such endearments. She had no intimatesof her own sex; with the women she was courteously distant, repellingand rather despising them. She had felt Clyde's instinctive hostility,and had returned it. Surprised and touched by her action, the tearsstarted to her eyes. Clyde put her arms around the slender, pliantwaist.

  "Come with me, dear, and get some sleep. You're badly shaken up. We'llsleep in, in the morning."

  "But I have to go back," Sheila objected. "Nobody knows I've gone. Ihave to be back by morning. And then there's Beaver Boy! My heavens! Ileft him standing outside. Oh, I've got to----"

  Casey gently pressed her back as she would have risen.

  "I'll stable the horse, old girl; and I'll be at Talapus by daylight totell them where you are. Don't you worry, now, about anything--not evenSandy. If he's gone back to the hills I'll bet he finds Tom. They'll beall right."

  "Do you think so, Casey? And will you do that much for me? I'm awfullysore and tired. Every bone and muscle of me aches."

  "You poor little girl." He raised her in his arms. "Come on, girls, andput her to bed. I'll carry her in."