CHAPTER X
Bill Talpers's return to sobriety was considerably hastened by alarmafter the trader's words with Lowell. As long as matters were evenbetween Bill Talpers and the girl, the trader figured that he could atleast afford to let things rest. The letter in his possession was stilla potent weapon. He could at least prevent the girl from telling whatshe seemed to know of the trader's connection with the murder. He hadfigured that the letter would be the means of bringing him a mostengaging bride. It would have done so if he had not been such a fool asto drink too much. Talpers usually was a canny drinker, but when a mangoes asking--or, in this case, demanding--a girl's hand in marriage, itis not to be wondered at if he oversteps the limit a trifle in thematter of fortifying himself with liquor. But in this case Bill realizedthat he had gone beyond all reasonable bounds. That fall had beendisastrous in every way. She was clever and quick, that girl, or shenever would have been able to turn an incident like that to such goodadvantage. Most girls would have sniveled in a corner, thought Bill,until he had regained his senses, but she started right in to look forthat letter. He had been smart enough to leave the letter in the safe atthe store, but she had found plenty in that watch!
Another thought buzzed disturbingly in Bill's head. How did she knowjust how much money had been taken from Sargent's body? Also, how didshe know that the watch was Sargent's, seeing that it had no marks ofidentification on it? If there had been so much as a scratch on thething, Talpers never would have worn it. She might have been making awild guess about the watch, but she certainly was not guessing about themoney. Her certainty in mentioning the amount had given Bill a chill ofterror from which he was slow in recovering. Another thing that wascausing him real agony of spirit was the prominence of Lowell in affairsat the Greek Letter Ranch. It would be easy enough to hold the girl incheck with that letter. She would never dare tell the authorities howmuch she knew about Talpers, as Bill could drag her into the case byproducing his precious documentary evidence. But the agent--how much washe learning in the course of his persistent searching, and from whatangle was he going to strike? Would the girl provide him withinformation which she might not dare give to others? Women were allweaklings, thought Bill, unable to keep any sort of a secret from asympathetic male ear, especially when that ear belonged to as handsome ayoung fellow as the Indian agent! Probably she would be telling theagent everything on his next trip to the ranch. Bill had been watching,but he had not seen the young upstart from the agency go past, andneither had Bill's faithful clerk. But the visit might be made any day,and Talpers's connection with the tragedy on the Dollar Sign road mightat almost any hour be falling into the possession of Lowell, whoseactivity in running down bootleggers had long ago earned him Bill'shatred.
Something would have to be done, without delay, to get the girl whereshe would not be making a confidant of Lowell or any one else.Scowlingly Bill thought over one plan after another, and rejected eachas impractical. Finally, by a process of elimination, he settled on theonly course that seemed practical. A broad fist, thudding into aleather-like palm, indicated that the Talpers mind had been made up.With his dark features expressing grim resolve, Bill threw a burden ofconsiderable size on his best pack-animal. This operation he conductedalone in the barn, rejecting his clerk's proffer of assistance. Then hesaddled another horse, and, without telling his clerk anythingconcerning his prospective whereabouts or the length of his trip,started off across the prairie. He often made such excursions, and hisclerk had learned not to ask questions. Diplomacy in such matters waspartly what the clerk was paid for. A good fellow to work for was BillTalpers if no one got too curiously inclined. One or two clerks had beendisciplined on account of inquisitiveness, and they would not be asbeautiful after the Talpers methods had been applied, but they hadgained vastly in experience. Some day he would do even more for thisyoung Indian agent. Bill's cracked lips were stretched in a grin ofsatisfaction at the very thought.
The trader traveled swiftly toward the reservation. He often boastedthat he got every ounce that was available in horseflesh. Traveling witha pack-horse was little handicap to him. Horses instinctively fearedhim. More than one he had driven to death without so much as touchingthe straining animal with whip or spur. Nothing gave Bill such acutesatisfaction as the knowledge that he had roused fear in any creature.
With the sweating pack-animal close at the heels of his saddle pony,Talpers rode for hours across the plains. Seemingly he paid no attentionto the changes in the landscape, yet his keen eyes, buried deeplybeneath black brows, took in everything. He saw the cloud masses cometumbling over the mountains, but, like Lowell, he knew that the droughtwas not yet to be ended. The country became more broken, and the gradeso pronounced that the horses were compelled to slacken their pace. Thepleasant green hills gave place to imprisoning mesas, with red sidesthat looked like battlements. Beyond these lay the foothills--so closethat they covered the final slopes of the mountains.
It was a lonely country, innocent of fences. The cattle that ran herewere as wild as deer and almost as fleet as antelope. Twice a year theIndians rounded up their range possessions, but many of these cattle hadescaped the far-flung circles of riders. They had become renegades andhad grown old and clever. At the sight of a human being they wouldgallop away in the sage and greasewood.
Once Talpers saw the gleam of a wagon-top which indicated the presenceof a wolf hunter in the employ of the leasers who were running cattle onthe reservations and who suffered much from the depredations ofpredatory animals. By working carefully around a hill, the tradercontinued on his way without having been seen.
Passing the flanking line of mesas, Bill pushed his way up a watercoursebetween two foothills. The going became rougher, and all semblance of atrail was lost, yet the trader went on unhesitatingly. The slopesleading to the creek became steeper and were covered with pine andquaking aspen, instead of the bushy growths of the plains. The streamfoamed over rocks, and its noise drowned the sound of the horses' hoofsas the animals scrambled over the occasional stretches of loose shale.With the dexterity of the born trailsman, Talpers wormed his way alongthe stream when it seemed as if further progress would be impossible. Ina tiny glade, with the mountain walls rising precipitously for hundredsof feet, Talpers halted and gave three shrill whistles. An answer camefrom the other end of the glade, and in a few minutes Talpers wasremoving pack and saddle in Jim McFann's camp.
Since his escape from jail the half-breed had been hiding in thismountain fastness. Talpers had supplied him with "grub" and weapons. Hehad moved camp once in a while for safety's sake, but had felt littlefear of capture. As a trailer McFann had few equals, and he knew everyswale in the prairie and every nook in the mountains on the reservation.
Talpers brought out a bottle, which McFann seized eagerly.
"There's plenty more in the pack," said the trader, "so drink all youwant. Don't offer me none, as I am kind o' taperin' off."
"Did you see any Indian police on the way?" asked the half-breed.
"No--nothin' but Wolfer Joe's wagon, 'way off in the hills. I guess thepolice ain't lookin' for you very hard. That ain't the fault of theagent, though," added Talpers meaningly. "He's promised he'll have youback in Tom Redmond's hands in less'n a week."
The half-breed scowled and muttered an oath as he took another drink.Talpers had told the lie in order to rouse McFann's antagonism towardLowell, and he was pleased to see that his statement had been acceptedat face value.
"But that ain't the worst for you, nor for me either," went on thetrader. "That girl at the Greek Letter Ranch knows that you and me tookthe watch from the man on the Dollar Sign road."
"How did she know that?" exclaimed McFann in amazement.
"That's somethin' she won't tell, but she knows that you and me wasthere, and that the story you told in court ain't straight. I'msatisfied she ain't told any one else--not yet."
"Do you think she will tell any one?"
"I'm sure of it. You see, she sorter sprung this thing
on me when I washavin' a little argyment about her marryin' me. She got spiteful andcome at me with the statement that the watch I was wearin' belonged tothat feller Sargent."
Bill did not add anything about the money. It was not going to do to letthe half-breed know he had been defrauded.
McFann squatted by the fire, the bottle in his hand and his gaze onTalpers's face.
"She mentioned both of us bein' there," went on the trader. "She givethe details in a way that I'll admit took me off my feet. It's anawkward matter--in fact, it's a hangin' matter--for both of us, if shetells. You know how clost they was to lynchin' you, over there at WhiteLodge, with nothin' so very strong against you. If that gang ever hearsabout us and this watch of Sargent's, we'll be hung on the same tree."
Talpers played heavily on the lynching, because he knew the fear of themob had become an obsession with McFann. He noticed the half-breed'sgrowing uneasiness, and played his big card.
"I spent a long time thinkin' the hull thing over," said Talpers, "andI've come to the conclusion that this girl is sure to tell the Indianagent all she knows, and the best thing for us to do is to get her outof the way before she puts the noose around our necks."
"Why will she tell the Indian agent?"
"Because he's callin' pretty steady at the ranch, and he's made herthink he's the only friend she's got around here. And as soon as hefinds out, we might as well pick out our own rope neckties, Jim. It'sgoin' to take quick action to save us, but you're the one to do it."
"What do you want me to do?" asked McFann suspiciously.
"Well, you're the best trailer and as good a shot as there is in thispart of the country. All that's necessary is for you to drop around theranch and--well, sort of make that girl disappear."
"How do you mean?"
Talpers rose and came closer to McFann.
"I mean kill her!" he said with an oath. "Nothin' else is goin' to do.You can do it without leavin' a track. Willis Morgan or that Chinamannever'll see you around. Nobody else but the agent ever stops at theGreek Letter Ranch. It's the only safe way. If she ever tells, Jim,you'll never come to trial. You'll be swingin' back and forth somewheresto the music of the prairie breeze. You know the only kind of fruit thatgrows on these cotton woods out here."
Jim McFann had always been pliable in Talpers's hands. Talpers hadprofited most by the bootlegging operations carried on by the pair,though Jim had done most of the dangerous work. Whenever Jim neededsupplies, the trader furnished them. To be sure, he charged them offheavily, so there was little cash left from the half-breed's bootleggingoperations. Talpers shrewdly figured that the less cash he gave Jim, themore surely he could keep his hold on the half-breed. McFann had grownused to his servitude. Talpers appeared to him in the guise of the onlyfriend he possessed among white and red.
Jim rose slowly to his moccasined feet.
"I guess you're right, Bill," he said. "I'll do what you say."
The trader's eyes glowed with satisfaction. The desire for revenge hadcome uppermost in his heart. The girl at the ranch had outwitted him insome way which he could not understand. Twenty-four hours ago he hadconfidently figured on numbering her among the choicest chattels in thepossession of William Talpers. But now he regarded her with a hatredborn of fear. The thought of what she could do to him, merely byspeaking a few careless words about that watch and money, drove allother thoughts from Talpers's mind. Jim McFann could be made a deadlyand certain instrument for insuring the safety of the Talpers skin. Oneshot from the half-breed's rifle, either through a cabin window or fromsome sagebrush covert near the ranch, and the trader need have nofurther fears about being connected with the Dollar Sign murder.
"I thought you'd see it in the right light, Jim," approved Talpers. "Itwon't be any trick at all to get her. She rides out a good deal on thatwhite horse."
Jim McFann did not answer. He had begun preparations for his trip.Swiftly and silently the half-breed saddled his horse, which had beenhidden in a near-by thicket. From the supply of liquor in Talpers'spack, Jim took a bottle, which he was thrusting into his saddle pocketwhen the trader snatched it away.
"You've had enough, Jim," growled Talpers. "You do the work that's cutout for you, and you can have all I've brought to camp. I'll be herewaitin' for you."
McFann scowled.
"All right," he said sullenly, "but it seems as if a man ought to havelots for a job like this."
"After it's all done," said Talpers soothingly, "you can have all thebooze you want, Jim. And one thing more," called the trader as McFannrode away, "remember it ain't goin' to hurt either of us if you get achance to put the Indian agent away on this same little trip."
Jim McFann waved an assenting sign as he disappeared in the trees, andthe trader went back to the camp-fire to await the half-breed's return.He hoped McFann would find the agent at the Greek Letter Ranch and wouldkill Lowell as well as the girl. But, if there did not happen to be anysuch double stroke of luck in prospect, the removal of the Indian agentcould be attended to later on.
When he reached the mesas beyond the foothills, the half-breed turnedaway from the stream and struck off toward the left. He kept a sharplookout for Indian police as he traveled, but saw nothing to causeapprehension. Night was fast coming on when he reached the ridge onwhich Lowell and Helen had stood a few hours before. Avoiding the road,the half-breed made his way to a gulch near the ranch, where he tied hishorse. Cautiously he approached the ranch-house. The kitchen door wasopen and Wong was busy with the dishes. The other doors were shut andshades were drawn in the windows. Making his way back to the gulch, thehalf-breed rolled up in his blanket and slept till daybreak, when hetook up a vantage-point near the house and waited developments. Shortlyafter breakfast Wong came out to the barn and saddled the white horsefor Helen. The half-breed noticed with satisfaction that the girl rodedirectly toward the reservation instead of following the road that ledto the agency. Hastily securing his horse the half-breed skirted theranch and located the girl's trail on the prairie. Instead of followingit he ensconced himself comfortably in some aspens at the bottom of adraw, confident that the girl would return by the same trail.
If McFann had continued on Helen's trail he would have followed her toan Indian ranch not far away. A tattered tepee or two snuggled against adilapidated cabin. The owner of the ranch was struggling withtuberculosis. His wife was trying to run the place and to bring upseveral children, whose condition had aroused the mother instinct inHelen. Though she had found her first efforts regarded with suspicion,Helen had persisted, until she had won the confidence of mother andchildren. Her visits were frequent, and she had helped the family somaterially that she had astonished the field matron, an energetic womanwho covered enormous distances in the saddle in the fulfillment ofduties which would soon wear out a settlement worker.
The half-breed smoked uneasily, his rifle across his knees. Two hourspassed, but he did not stir, so confident was he that Helen would returnby the way she had followed in departing from the ranch.
McFann's patience was rewarded, and he tossed away his cigarette with asigh of satisfaction when Helen's voice came to him from the top of thehill. She was singing a nonsense song from the nursery, and, astridebehind her saddle and clinging to her waist, was a wide-eyed Indian girlof six years, enjoying both the ride and the singing.
Here was a complication upon which the half-breed had not counted. Infact, during his hours of waiting Jim had begun to look at matters in adifferent light. It was necessary to get Helen away, where she could notpossibly tell what she knew, but why not hide her in the mountains? Or,if stronger methods were necessary, let Talpers attend to them himself?For the first time since he had come under Talpers's domination, JimMcFann was beginning to weaken. As the girl came singing down thehillside, Jim peered uneasily through the bushes. Talpers had shoved himinto a job that simply could not be carried out--at least not withoutwhiskey. If Bill had let him bring all he wanted to drink, perhapsthings could have been done as planned.
/> Whatever was done would have to be accomplished quickly, as the whitehorse, with its double burden, was getting close. Jim sighted once ortwice along his rifle barrel. Then he dropped the weapon into the hollowof his arm, and, leading his horse, stepped in front of Helen.
The parley was brief. McFann sent the youngster scurrying along the backtrail, after a few threats in Indian tongue, which were dire enough toseal the child's lips in fright. Helen was startled at first when thehalf-breed halted her, but her composure soon returned. She had noweapon, nor would she have attempted to use one in any event, as sheknew the half-breed was famous for his quickness and cleverness withfirearms. Nor could anything be gained by attempting to ride him down inthe trail. She did not ask any questions, for she felt they would befutile.
The half-breed was surprised at the calmness with which matters werebeing taken. With singular ease and grace--another gift from his Indianforbears--Jim slid into his saddle, and, seizing the white horse by thebridle, turned the animal around and started it up the trail beside him.In a few minutes Jim had found his trail of the evening before, and wasworking swiftly back toward the mountains. When Helen slyly dropped herhandkerchief, as an aid to any one who might follow, the half-breedquietly turned back and, after picking it up, informed her that he wouldkill her if she tried any more such tricks. Realizing the folly of anyfurther attempts to outwit the half-breed, Helen rode silently on. Notonce did McFann strike across a ridge. Imprisoning slopes seemed to beshutting them in without surcease, and Helen looked in vain for any aid.
As they approached the foothills, and the travel increased indifficulty, McFann told Helen to ride close behind him. He glancedaround occasionally to see that she was obeying orders. The old whitehorse struggled gamely after the half-breed's wiry animal, and McFannwas compelled to wait only once or twice. Meanwhile Helen had thoughtover the situation from every possible angle, and had concluded to goahead and not make any effort to thwart the half-breed. She knew thatthe reservation was more free from crime than the counties surroundingit. She also knew that it would not be long before the agent wasinformed of her disappearance, and that the Indian police--trailers whowere the half-breed's equal in threading the ways of thewilderness--would soon be on McFann's tracks. After her first shock ofsurprise she had little fear of McFann. The thought that disturbed hermost of all was--Talpers. She knew of the strange partnership of themen. Likewise she felt that McFann would not have embarked upon any suchcrime alone. The thought of Talpers recurred so steadily that the lithefigure of the half-breed in front of her seemed to change into thebroad, almost misshapen form of the trader.
The first real fear that had come to her since the strange journey begansurged over Helen when McFann led the way into the glade where he hadbeen camped, and she saw a dreaded and familiar figure stooped over asmall fire, engaged in frying bacon. But there was nothing of triumph inTalpers's face as he straightened up and saw Helen. Amazement flittedacross the trader's features, succeeded by consternation.
"Now you've done it and done it right!" exclaimed the trader, with ashower of oaths directed at Jim McFann. "Didn't have the nerve to shootat a purty face like that, did you? Git her into that tent while you andme set down and figger out what we're goin' to do!"
The half-breed helped Helen dismount and told her to go to his tent, asmall, pyramid affair at one end of the glade. Jim fastened the flaps onthe outside and went back to the camp-fire, where Talpers was stormingup and down like a madman. Helen, seated on McFann's blanket roll, heardtheir voices rising and falling, the half-breed apparently defendinghimself and Talpers growing louder and more accusative. Finally, whenthe trader's rage seemed to have spent itself somewhat, the tent flapswere opened and Jim McFann thrust some food into Helen's hands. She atethe bacon and biscuits, as the long ride had made her hungry. ThenTalpers roughly ordered her out of the tent. He and the half-breed hadbeen busy packing and saddling. They added the tent and its contents totheir packs. Telling Helen to mount the white horse once more, Talperstook the lead, and, with the silent and sullen half-breed bringing upthe rear, the party started off along a trail much rougher than the onethat had been followed by McFann and the girl in the morning.
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