CHAPTER XXVI
ROGERS TAKES A HAND
The trail herd had made good progress through the valley, and Rogers,aided by the Star men, had kept them going. The men feared nointerference with the work, for they had terrorized the ranchers in thevalley until the latter well knew the futility of retaliatory measures.Still, a certain furtive quickness of movement had always characterizedthe operations of the outlaws--the instinct to move secretly, ifpossible, and to strike swiftly when they struck was always strong inthem.
Besides, the drive to Willow's Wells was not a long one, and the cattlecould stand a fast pace. So it was not long after the herd had left theStar until it straggled up a defile in the hills and out upon the levelwhere Deveny's men had to ride to take the south trail to the RanchoSeco.
The level extended southward for a distance of several miles to a grassrange that the Star men knew well--for there had been times when they hadgrazed cattle there, making camp on their frequent trips to the Wells.
A range of low, flat hills marked the northern limits of the grazingsection; and Rogers and his men trailed the cattle through the hillswhile the morning was still young.
The herd was through the hills, and Rogers, twisting in the saddle, wastaking a last look over the plain to make certain there had been noprying eyes watching the movements of himself and the men, when he saw,far to the west, a group of horsemen just coming into view at the edge ofthe plain--seemingly having ridden out of the big valley.
Rogers wheeled his horse and watched the horsemen as they traveledeastward, making good time. He called to a man, named Colver, who wasriding close to him.
"Them's Deveny's men--from the Cache. What in blazes are they up to?Somethin's in the wind, Colver--they're ridin' like the devil was afterthem an' burnin' the breeze for fair!"
Rogers sent his horse scampering to the crest of one of the hills where,concealed behind some brush, he watched the progress of Deveny's meneastward.
When they passed the point on the plain where they would have to veernorthward if they intended to visit the Star, he breathed with relief.For he had almost yielded to a conviction that Deveny _was_ headed forthe Star.
But after the horsemen passed the point that led to the Star trail, a newanxiety seized Rogers--and a passion that sent the blood to his faceswept over him.
His eyes were glowing with an excitement that he could not repress whenhe turned to Colver.
"Somethin's up!" he snapped. "Deveny's been sullen as hell for a goodmany days--ever since Harlan came to the Star. One of the boys wastellin' me he heard Deveny an' Haydon havin' it out over at the Cache. Ifthere's goin' to be a ruckus I'm goin' to be in on it!"
He leaped his horse off the hill, racing him down into the grass plainafter the other men. When he reached them he yelled sharply, and theyspurred quickly to him, anticipating from his manner that dangerthreatened.
"I've got a hunch that hell's a-goin' to pop right sudden, boys," he toldthem. "An' we're goin' away from it. If there's any trouble we want to bein on it. Deveny's up to somethin'. You-all know about the agreement madebetween Haydon an' Harlan--that Harlan was to run the Rancho Seco withoutinterference. Deveny's headed that way, an' Haydon ain't around. It's upto us boys to keep our eyes open.
"Harlan's at the Star. He won't be knowin' that Deveny is headin' for theRancho Seco. Harlan's white, boys; he's done more for us guys since he'sbeen at the Star than Haydon or Deveny ever done for us. He's promised usthings that Haydon an' Deveny would never do. He's a white man, an' I'mfor him. An' I'm for takin' orders from him from now on. Who's with me?"
"You're shoutin'!" declared Colver.
"It's time for a new deal," muttered another.
"You're doin' the yappin'," grimly announced a big man who was close toRogers; "we're followin' your lead."
"I'm jumpin' for the Star then!" declared Rogers; "to put Harlan wise towhere Deveny's headed for. We're leavin' the herd here until we find outwhat's goin' on. Half of you guys beat it to the Rancho Seco--trailin'Deveny an' his boys, to find out what they're doin'. You're herd-ridin'them if they go to monkeyin' with the Rancho Seco. Slope!"
Rogers had hardly ceased speaking when the outfit was on the move. Therewere eleven men, including Rogers; and they sent their horses leapingover the crest of the hill nearest them--dividing, as they reached thelevel on the other side with seemingly no previous arrangement, into twogroups--one group going northeastward, toward the South Trail, and theother fading into the space that yawned between it and the point wherethe trail to the Star led downward into the big basin.
* * * * *
Haydon, holding hard to the pommel of the saddle, urging his horse alongthe trail that led up the valley, looked back whenever he reached a rise,his eyes searching the space behind him for the dread apparition that heexpected momentarily.
He knew that it would not be long before Morgan and Harlan would emergefrom the ranchhouse to discover that he had escaped; and he knew, too,that they would suspect that he had gone to the Cache.
He expected they would delay riding after him, however, until theysearched for him in some of the buildings, and that delay, he hoped,would give him time to reach the Cache.
He was handicapped by his useless arm--for it made riding awkward, andthe numbness was stealing down his side, toward his leg. He paid littleattention to the pain; indeed, he entirely forgot it in his frenziedeagerness to reach the Cache.
More prominent in his brain at this minute than any other emotion was adread of Billy Morgan. He had yielded to terror when Morgan had revealedhis identity; but the terror he had felt then had not been nearly soparalyzing as that which was now upon him.
His eyes were bulging as he rode; his lips were slavering, and heshuddered and cringed as he leaned over his horse's mane, urging him togreater effort--even though there were times when his lurches almostthrew him out of the saddle.
For his previous terror had been somewhat tempered with a doubt ofMorgan's veracity. Even when he had seen Morgan reaching for his pistolhe had felt the doubt--had felt that Morgan was not Morgan at all, butWoodward, perpetrating a grotesque joke. To be sure, when he had seenthat Morgan really intended to kill him, he had been convinced that theman was in deadly earnest. It had been then that he had desperatelytwisted himself so that Morgan's bullet had not touched a vital spot.
But now his terror had grown; it was a thing that had got into hissoul--for he had had time to meditate over what Morgan's vengeance meantto him.
It meant that Morgan would kill him, if he caught him; that the life hetreasured would be taken from him; that the magnificent body which he hadalways so greatly admired would be shattered and broken. The mentalpicture he drew further increased his terror, and he began to mutterincoherent blasphemies as he raced his horse at a breakneck pace towardthe Cache.
But when he had ridden several miles and knew from the appearance of thevalley that he was nearing the Cache and that he would reach it insafety, there came a change in him.
He grew calmer; he began to feel a rage that sent the blood racingthrough his veins again. He looked back over the trail as often asformerly, but it was with a new expression--malevolent hatred. And whenhe finally reached the entrance to the Cache and rode through it, headingtoward the building in which, he expected, he would find Deveny, themalevolence in his expression was mingled with triumph and cunning.
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