CHAPTER XXVIII
CONVERGING TRAILS
An hour or so later, Harlan, having finished his labors in a clearing atthe edge of the level near the gorge, climbed slowly on Purgatory andsent him back down the valley trail toward the Star.
From the first his sympathies for Barbara had been deep, beginning on theevening Lane Morgan had mentioned her in his presence--when the manseemed to see her in that strange, awesome moment before his death--whenhe had seemed to hold out his arms to her. Later, at Lamo, when Harlanhad held the girl in his arms, he felt that at that instant he must haveexperienced much the same protective impulse that Morgan would have felt,had the experience occurred to him. Harlan had been slightly cynicaluntil that minute; but since then he had known that his rage against theoutlaws was deeply personal.
That rage, though, had centered most heavily upon Deveny. He had hatedHaydon, too--from the first. In the beginning it had been a jealoushatred, aroused over the conviction that Barbara loved the man. Butlater--when he had discovered that Haydon was the mysterious "Chief,"that he was the real murderer of Lane Morgan, and that behind hisprofessed love for the girl was meditated trickery--his hatred had becomea passion in which Barbara did not figure.
His hatred for Haydon, though, could not be compared with the passionatecontempt and loathing he felt for Deveny. The man had attempted, in Lamo,a thing that Harlan had always abhorred, and the memory of that time wasstill vivid in Harlan's brain.
Into Harlan's heart as he rode toward the Star flamed that ancientloathing, paling his face and bringing a gleam to his eyes that had beenin them often of late--a lust for the lives of the men whose evil deedsand sinister influence had kept Barbara a virtual prisoner at the RanchoSeco.
He rode the valley trail slowly, his thoughts upon Barbara, his lipsstraightening when he thought of how he would have to return to theRancho Seco, some day, to tell her of her brother's death. Twice hadtragedy visited her, and again he would be the messenger to bring her thegrim news.
When he reached the Star he rode up to the corral fence and dismounted.He stood for a long time at the fence, his elbows on one of the rails,his thoughts dwelling upon Barbara. Pity for her whitened his face, sethis lips in rigid lines.
She had been in danger, but it seemed to him that it would soon be over.For Haydon would bother the girl no more, and as soon as he could meetDeveny he would remove another menace to Barbara's life and happiness.
He had no regrets for the men he had killed; they deserved what he hadgiven them. As he had told Morgan, he had considered himself merely aninstrument of the law of right and justice--which law was based upon thevery principle that governed men in civilized communities.
He was facing south, and he raised his head after a few minutes, for uponthe slight breeze was borne to him the rapid drumming of hoofs. As helooked up he saw, far out toward the southern edge of the valley, a dustcloud, moving swiftly toward him.
At first he suspected that the men in the group belonged to Deveny, andhe drew out his pistols, one after the other, and examined them--for hedecided--if Deveny was among the men--to settle for good the question ofpower and authority that Haydon had raised.
When the men came closer, though, swooping toward the ranchhouse likefeathers before a hurricane, he saw that Rogers was among them.
Then, as the men came toward him down along the corral fence, Harlan sawthat Rogers' eyes were wide with excitement. And he stood, his facedarkening, as Rogers told him what he had seen, and voiced hissuspicions.
"We're with you, Harlan," declared Rogers, sweeping a hand toward themen; "an' them other boys which have trailed Deveny, are with you. We'reout to 'get' Deveny if you say the word; and that thief, Haydon, too."
Harlan did not answer. He grinned at the men, though, and atRogers--acknowledging his gratitude for their decision to be "with" him;then he turned, leaped on Purgatory, and sent the big beast thunderingtoward the timber that led to the main trail.
Their voices silent, their horses falling quickly into the pace set bythe big black, Rogers and the other men followed.
The other half of Rogers' men, headed by Colver, were several milesbehind Deveny's horsemen when they reached the South Trail. They gainedvery little on the other men, though, for Deveny and his men were justthen racing Barbara to the point where the trails converged, having seenher. But during Deveny's halt at the covert, where he had shot Stroud,Colver's men gained, and they were not more than two or three miles fromthe covert when Deveny's men left it.
From the shelving trail, ever sweeping toward the trail in the valley,Colver had noted the halt at the covert, though he had not seen Barbara,nor Stroud. He had seen, of course, that Deveny had not gone to theRancho Seco, that for some reason or other he had swerved, taking thetrail up the valley.
Colver was puzzled, but he remembered Rogers' orders, and when he and hismen reached the covert, they halted. They came upon Stroud, lying nearsome bushes, and they saw his horse, grazing on the tall grass near by.They had reached the covert too late to see Barbara's pony; and when theyremounted, after taking a look at Stroud, they caught a glimpse of a lonehorseman racing up the valley in the direction taken by Deveny and hismen.
The lone horseman was Red Linton, though Colver did not know it, for theSouth Trail dipped into the basin miles before it emerged to the level atthe point of convergence with the other trail, and Colver had not seenLinton when he had passed.
Colver and his men fled up the valley, following the trail taken byDeveny and the lone horseman, and when they had gone two or three milesthey saw a rider coming toward them. They raced toward him, for they sawhe was in trouble; that he had lashed himself to the pommel of thesaddle, and that he was leaning far over it, limp and inert.
Linton was not unconscious, but he was very near it; so near that heseemed to dream that men were around him and that voices were directed athim.
Into his mind as he straightened and looked at the men finally came theconviction that this was not a dream; and after an instant of intenseeffort, during which he fixed his gaze on Colver, he recognized theother.
He laughed, grimly, mockingly:
"Front an' rear--eh?" he said. "You got me, goin' an' comin'. Well, go toit--I deserve it, for lettin' Barbara out of my sight. If you don't killme, Harlan will. But if you guys are _men_, you won't let Deveny----"
"Deveny's got Barbara Morgan?"
This was Colver. Something in his voice straightened Linton further, andhe steadied himself in the saddle and looked fairly at the man.
"Deveny's got her. An' they got me--chasin' 'em. I was headin' back tothe Rancho Seco, to get the T Down boys--all Harlan's friends--to wipeDeveny out. If you guys are _men_----"
Sheer will could no longer support Linton's failing muscles--and he againcollapsed over the pommel.
For an instant only did Colver hesitate. Then he turned to a lean riderwho bestrode a tall, rangy horse. He spoke sharply to the rider:
"Hit the breeze to the Rancho Seco, an' get them T Down boys. Fan it,damn you!"
The rider was off with the word, leaping his horse down the trail withdizzying speed. Then Colver loosed the rope that held Linton to thesaddle, and with the help of the other men lifted the man down andstretched him in a plot of grass beside the trail, where they worked overhim until they saw, far out on the level toward the Rancho Seco, a numberof horsemen coming, seemingly abreast, as though they were racing, eachman trying his best to outstrip the others.
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