CHAPTER XLIII
PREPARING THE NET FOR A DRAW
Beth Kent, as the sun was going from the sky, fell down three times inutter exhaustion. She and the others had come to within a mile of the"Laughing Water" claim. Pratt was far away in the rear, on the last ofhis stations. Glen, in the lead, was forging ahead on a second supplyof strength. Hidden from the sight of either of the others, Beth wasready for collapse.
But onward crept that merciless ribbon of steel that Glen was dragging.Three times the girl rose and stumbled onward, up the last acclivity.Her legs were like lead. She stubbed her toes on every rock. Shecould almost have cried with the aches of weariness. It seemed as ifthat terrible hill unfolded new and steeper slopes for every one sheclimbed.
She went down repeatedly. To have lain there, hungry, but indifferentto anything but sleep, would have been the most heavenly thing shecould conceive. She was literally falling up the hill, with all hermachinery slumping towards inertia, when finally Pratt, on his distanthill, sent the signal for Glen to halt.
"All right, Beth--rest!" he called from the end of the chain, and shesank at once in her tracks.
It was almost dusk when Pratt came toiling up the hill. Glen had comedown to Beth's position. He too was thoroughly tired. How the linehad come out was more than he could care. But Beth, with the last ofher flickering strength, arose to hasten Pratt.
"No use in the three of us being seen," he said, planting his transitin the sand, but making no effort to adjust it to a level. "That ridgethere overlooks the claim. I'll climb up alone and take a bird's-eyeview."
"We're as near as that!" cried Beth in startled surprise. "Then whatdo you think? Does the line include the claim?"
"I'll have to look around from the ridge," repeated Pratt withaggravating caution. "You can wait ten minutes here."
He started laboriously up the slope--and Beth stood tensely watching.She thought she saw him top the ridge, but he disappeared from sight.
The darkness was gathering swiftly in all the desert world. The girl'sexcitement and impatience grew with a new flare up of energy. To thinkthat Searle was so near at hand, with fate a-hover in the air, sent herpulses bounding madly.
It seemed as if Pratt would never return from the hill. She couldalmost have dashed to the summit herself, to learn the outcome of theirlabors. Then at last, from a small ravine, not far away, he appearedin his leisurely manner.
Beth ran along the slope to meet him.
"Well?" she cried. "What did you find?"
He smiled. "Unless I'm crazy, Lawrence is either a liar or a fool.That claim is safe outside the line by nearly an eighth of a mile."
"Oh!" cried the girl. She collapsed on the ground and sobbed inexhaustion and joy.
She could go no further. She had kept her strength and courage up forthis, and now, inside the goal, she cared not what might happen.
They camped upon the spot. The man with the car, which had taken themout, had been ordered to meet them down at Reservation town--themushroom camp which had sprung into being no more than a week beforethe rush. All the way down there Pratt continued alone. He and thechauffeur, long after dark, returned with provisions and blankets.They had driven the car as far as possible, then climbed the ravine onfoot.
At nine o'clock Beth was asleep beneath the stars, dreaming of hermeeting with Van.
At daylight all were up, and in the chill of the rarified mountain airwere walking stiffly to the car. The chauffeur, who had slept in hismachine, promised breakfast by eight at Mrs. Dick's. He tore up theroad and he tore away their breath, but he came into Goldite half anhour ahead of time, and claimed he had driven "pretty slow."
Meantime, the night in the mining-camp had brought no untowardexcitement. Van, at his tent, with the covered figure lying on theearth, had welcomed his partners at midnight with the news that a"homeless and worn-out pilgrim of the desert" had come desiring rest.He was sleeping hard; he was not to be disturbed. In the morning hewas scheduled to depart.
Tired to utter unconcern, the three old worthies made their beds withVan beside the man at peace. And the whole five slept with a trust andabandon to nature that balanced the living and the dead.
Van was out, had eaten his breakfast, and was waiting for the sheriffwhen Beth and her party returned. He beheld them, felt his heart liftupward like a lever in his breast, at sight of Beth in her male attire,and grimly shut his jaws.
Christler, the sheriff, arrived a little after eight, bringing in awounded deputy. Barger had shot him in the thigh. Van did not waitfor his man to eat, but urged him home to his bachelor shack and sathim down to a drink of something strong, with a cracker to munch for ameal.
Christler was tired. He was somewhat stout; he had been in the saddlealmost constantly for weeks, and now, as a victim of chagrin anddisappointment, he was utterly dejected and done.
"Good Lord, Van, ain't a man to breathe--hain't he got no rights tolive, whatsoever?" he inquired. "You'd chase me up, or somebody would,if I was in my grave."
"You'd break out of your grave," Van told him, "if you knew what'sgoing on."
Christler looked dubious, draining at his glass.
"Well, I dunno. It 'ud have to be something pretty rich."
"Bill," said Van, "you're going to stand in and work with me as youhaven't worked for a year. It's going to be worth it. Opal McCoppet,and one Searle Bostwick, of New York, have stolen my claim bycorrupting Lawrence for twenty thousand dollars, running a falsereservation line, and maybe putting Culver out of the way because hewas square in his business."
Christler paused in the act of biting his cracker.
"What!"
"There's going to be something doing, Bill," Van added, leaning forwardon the table. "I'm going to round up all this gang to-day if it killsyou to keep on the trail."
Christler still sat staring.
"By the Lord Harry!" he said. "By the Lord--but, Van, I didn't comehome to rest. I've got Barger going, somewhere, shot to a sieve. Buthe's some disappeared. If that ain't just my luck! I'm goin' to githim though, you bet! Lord!--my pride--my profession pride--not tomention that little old reward! I admit I want that money, Van. Ireckon I've pretty near----"
"Yes, you've earned it," Van interrupted. "I'm going to see that youget it. Bill, but first you get busy with me."
"You'll see that I get----" Christler put the cracker in his mouth."Don't talk to a genuine friend like that. I'm tired already."
"Are you?" said Van. "Let's see. Barger is here--in camp."
Up shot the sheriff as if from the force of a blast.
"What!" he shrilled. "Barger! Van, I'll----"
Van grinned.
"Don't forget you're tired, Bill. Matt won't get away."
"Good Lord, boy--tell me where's he at!" cried Christler, dancing onthe floor as he strapped his guns upon him. "Me a-thinkin' I had shothim up and all this time----"
"You shot him enough, poor devil," Van interrupted quietly. "He's deadin my tent on the hill."
The sheriff paused with one hand held in the air.
"Dead! Crawled all the way to Goldite!" He started for the door.
"Hold on," said the horseman, blocking his path. "I told you Mattcan't get away. We're going out to get Lawrence first, and thenMcCoppet and his friend."
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