The Quirt

by B. M. Bower

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  "YACK, I LICK YOU GOOD IF YOU BARK"

  Swan cooked himself a hasty meal while he studied the variouspossibilities of the case and waited for further word from headquarters.He wanted to be sure that help had started and to be able to estimatewithin an hour or two the probable time of its arrival, before he leftthe wireless. Jack he fed and left on watch outside the cabin, so thathe could without risk keep open the door to the dugout.

  His instrument was not a large one, and the dugout door was thick,--as aprecaution against discovery if he should be called when some visitorchanced to be in the cabin. Not often did a man ride that way, thoughoccasionally some one stopped for a meal if he knew that the cabin wasthere and had ever tasted Swan's sour-dough biscuits. His aerial wascleverly camouflaged between the two pine trees, and he had no fear ofdiscovery there; Jack was a faithful guardian and would give warning ifany one approached the place. Swan could therefore give his wholeattention to the business at hand.

  He was not yet supplied with evidence enough to warrant arrestingWarfield and Hawkins, but he hoped to get it when the real crisis came.They could not have known of Al Woodruff's intentions toward Lorraine,else they would have kept themselves in the background and would nothave risked the failure of their own plan.

  On the other hand, Al must have been wholly ignorant of Warfield'sscheme to try and prove Lorraine crazy. It looked to Swan very much likea muddling of the Sawtooth affairs through over-anxiety to avoidtrouble. They were afraid of what Lorraine knew. They wanted toeliminate her, and they had made the blunder of working independently tothat end.

  Lone's anxiety he did not even consider. He believed that Lone would beequal to any immediate emergency and would do whatever the circumstancesseemed to require of him. Warfield counted him a Sawtooth man. AlWoodruff, if the four men met unexpectedly, would also take it forgranted that he was one of them. They would probably talk to Lonewithout reserve,--Swan counted on that. Whereas, if he were present,they would be on their guard, at least.

  Swan's plan was to wait at the cabin until he knew that deputies wereheaded toward the Pass. Then, with Jack, it would be a simple matter tofollow Warfield to where he overtook Al,--supposing he did overtake him.If he did not, then Swan meant to be present when the meeting occurred.The dog would trail Al anywhere, since the scent would be less thantwenty-four hours old. Swan would locate Warfield and lead him straightto Al Woodruff, and then make his arrests. But he wanted to have thedeputies there.

  At dusk he got his call. He learned that four picked men had started forthe Pass, and that they would reach the divide by daybreak. Others wereon their way to intercept Al Woodruff if he crossed before then.

  It was all that Swan could have hoped for,--more than he had dared toexpect on such short notice. He notified the operator that he would notbe there to receive anything else, until he returned to report that hehad got his men.

  "Don't count your chickens till they're hatched," came facetiously outof the blue.

  "By golly, I can hear them holler in the shell," Swan sent back,grinning to himself as he rattled the key. "That irrigation graft iskilled now. You tell the boss Swan says so. He's right. The way to catcha fox is to watch his den."

  He switched off the current, closed the case and went out, making surethat the cupboard-camouflaged door looked perfectly innocent on theoutside. With a bannock stuffed into one pocket, a chunk of bacon in theother, he left the cabin and swung off again in that long, tirelessstride of his, Jack following contentedly at his heels.

  At the farther end of Skyline Meadow he stopped, took a tough leatherleash from his pocket and fastened it to Jack's collar.

  "We don't go running to paw nobody's stomach and say, 'Wow-wow! Here weare back again!'" he told the dog, pulling its ears affectionately."Maybe we get shot or something like that. We trail, and we keep ourmouth still, Yack. One bark, and I lick you good!"

  Jack flashed out a pink tongue and licked his master's chin to show howlittle he was worried over the threat, and went racing along at the endof the leash, taking Swan's trail and his own back to where they hadclimbed out of the canyon.

  At the bottom Swan spoke to the dog in an undertone, and Jack obedientlystarted up the canyon on the trail of the five horses who had passedthat way since noon. It was starlight now, and Swan did not hurry. Hewas taking it for granted that Warfield and Hawkins would stop when itbecame too dark to follow the hoofprints, and without Jack to show themthe way they would perforce remain where they were until daybreak.

  They would do that, he reasoned, if they were sincere in wanting toovertake Lorraine and in their ignorance that they were also followingAl Woodruff. And try as he would, he could not see the object of sofoolish a plan as this abduction carried out in collusion with two menof unknown sentiments in the party. They had shown no suspicion of Al'spart in the affair, and Swan grinned when he thought of the mutualsurprise when they met.

  He was not disappointed. They reached timber line, following the seldomused trail that wound over the divide to Bear Top Pass and so, by adifficult route which he did not believe Al would attempt after dark,to the country beyond the mountain. Where dark overtook them, theystopped in a sheltered nook to wait, just as Swan had expected theywould. They were close to the trail, where no one could pass withouttheir knowledge.

  In the belief that it was only Lorraine they were following, and thatshe would be frightened and would come to the cheer of a campfire, theyhad a fine, inviting blaze. Swan made his way as close as he dared,without being discovered, and sat down to wait. He could see nothing ofthe men until Lone appeared and fed the flames more wood, and sat downwhere the light shone on his face. Swan grinned again. Warfield hadprobably decided that Lorraine would be less afraid of Lone than of themand had ordered him into the firelight as a sort of decoy. And Lone,knowing that Al Woodruff might be within shooting distance, was probablymuch more uncomfortable than he looked.

  He sat with his legs crossed in true range fashion and stared into thefire while he smoked. He was a fair mark for an enemy who might belurking out there in the dark, but he gave no sign that he realized thedanger of his position. Neither did he wear any air of expectancy.Warfield and Hawkins might wait and listen and hope that Lorraine,wide-eyed and weary, would steal up to the warmth of the fire; but notLone.

  Swan, sitting on a rotting log, became uneasy at the fine target whichLone made by the fire, and drew Al Woodruff's blue bandanna from hispocket. He held it to Jack's nose and whispered, "You find him,Yack--and I lick you good if you bark." Jack sniffed, dropped his noseto the ground and began tugging at the leash. Swan got up and, movingstealthily, followed the dog.