Nevertheless, Buck wished more than once that he had been able to get in touch with her since that memorable afternoon when he had watched her ride out of sight down the little cañon, if only to prepare her for what was going on. It must have been very hard for her to go about day after day, knowing nothing, suspecting a thousand things, fretting, worrying, with not a soul to confide in, yet forced continually to present an untroubled countenance to those about her.
“Thank the Lord it’ll soon be over and she’ll be relieved,” he thought, when they finally came in sight of the ranch-house.
As the posse swept through the lower gate and up the slope, Buck’s eyes searched the building keenly. Not a soul was in sight, either there or about the corrals. He had seen it thus apparently deserted more than once before, and told himself now that his uneasiness was absurd. But when the girl suddenly appeared on the veranda and stood staring at the approaching horsemen, Buck’s heart leaped with a sudden spasm of intense relief, and unconsciously he spurred his horse ahead of the others.
As he swung himself out of the saddle, she came swiftly forward, her face glowing with surprise and pleasure.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come,” she said in a low, quick voice, clasping his outstretched hand. “We’ve been worrying—You—you’re quite all right now?”
“Fine and dandy,” Buck assured her. “Thanks to you, and Bud, I’m perfectly whole again.”
She greeted Jessup, who came up smiling, and then Sheriff Hardenberg was presented.
“Very glad to meet you, Miss Thorne,” he said. There was a faint twinkle in his eyes as he glanced toward Stratton for an instant, his belief confirmed as to the principal reason for Buck’s desire to keep the secret of the Shoe-Bar ownership. Then he became businesslike.
“Where’s Lynch and the rest of ’em?” he asked briskly.
The girl’s face grew suddenly serious. “I don’t know,” she answered quickly. “They were all working about the barns until a strange cow-boy rode in about two hours ago. I saw him pass the window but didn’t think much about it. About half an hour or so later I went out to give some orders to Pedro; he’s the cook, you know. But he wasn’t there and neither was Maria, and when I went out to the barns the men were gone. Of course something urgent might easily have taken them out on the range, but neither Maria nor Pedro has been off the place for weeks. Besides, when I peeped into the bunk-house everything was tossed about in confusion, as if—Well, I was afraid something—had happened.”
“Something has,” stated the sheriff grimly. “The truth is, that scoundrel Lynch has got to the end of his rope, and we’re after him.”
The girl’s face paled, then flushed deeply. “What—what is it?” she asked in a low, troubled voice. “What has he—”
“It’s rather a long story, and I’m afraid there isn’t time to stop and tell you now,” explained the sheriff as she paused. “We’ve got to make every minute count. You have no idea which way they went?”
“It must have been west or south,” the girl answered promptly. “If they’d gone any other way I should have seen them.”
“Fine,” said Hardenberg, wheeling his horse. “Don’t you worry about anything,” he added over one shoulder. “We’ll be back in a jiffy.”
As he and his men spurred down the slope toward the entrance to middle pasture, the girl’s eyes sought Stratton’s.
“You—”
“I must.” He quickly answered her unspoken question. “They’ll need us to show them the way. We’ll be back, though, as soon as we possibly can. You’re not nervous, are you? You’re perfectly safe, of course, with—”
“Of course,” she assured him promptly. “Lynch has gone. There’ll be nothing for us to worry about here. Good-by, then, for a while. And do be careful—both of you.”
Her face was a trifle pale, and about her mouth and chin were traced a few faint lines which hinted vaguely of forced composure. As Buck hastened to overtake the posse, he recalled her expression, and wondered with a troubled qualm whether she wasn’t really more nervous than she let herself appear. Perhaps she might have been more comfortable if he or Bud had remained at the ranch-house.
“Probably it’s all my imagination,” he decided at length. “With Manning there, she’s perfectly safe, especially as we’ve got the whole gang on the run. The ranch-house would be the very last place they’d head for.”
* * *
CHAPTER XXVIII
FOREBODINGS
Almost at once they struck a fresh trail, made by a number of horsemen riding in a bunch, which led diagonally across middle pasture. It was easy to follow, and Hardenberg pushed his men hard to make up for delays which were likely to come later on. For a time Buck rode beside the sheriff, discussing their plans and explaining the lay of the land. Then he fell back a little to chat with Jessup.
“I’m sure glad of one thing,” Bud said emphatically, after a few desultory remarks. “Miss Mary won’t be bothered no more now with that son-of-a-gun hangin’ around an’ makin’ eyes.”
Stratton turned on him suddenly. “Who the devil do you mean?” he demanded sharply.
“Why, Tex, of course,” shrugged Jessup. “He used to put in considerable time soft-soapin’ around her. A hell of a nerve, I’ll say, makin’ up to such as her.”
Buck scowled. “I never saw anything like that,” he said brusquely, “except maybe once,” he added. With a sudden recollection of that afternoon they moved the herd out of south pasture.
“Likely not,” returned Bud. “He wasn’t so bad till after yuh went. I got the notion he took to courtin’ her, yuh might say, as a kind of last hope. If he could figger on gettin’ her to marry him, he’d have the ranch an’ everythin’ on it without no more trouble at all. You’d think even a scoundrel like him would see she wouldn’t look at him.”
“Did he— Was he—”
“Oh, no! Nothin’ raw a-tall,” returned Bud, divining the thought in Stratton’s mind. “He just hung around the ranch-house a lot, an’ was awful sweet, an’ used them black eyes of his consid’able. Sorta preparing the way, I reckon. But he didn’t get far.” He chuckled reminiscently. “I’ll tell the world, she didn’t waste no time sendin’ him about his business.”
For a time Buck rode on in frowning silence. The very thought enraged him and added deeply to the score that was piling up so rapidly against the scoundrel.
Presently Bud’s voice broke in upon his savage reverie.
“Funny we didn’t see nothin’ of the Mannings back there,” he commented. “The lady couldn’t of known yuh was around.” He glanced slyly at Buck. “Besides,” he added, seeing that his friend’s expression did not lighten, “with somethin’ like this doin’, you’d think his lordship would want to strut around in them baggy pants an’ yellow boots, an’ air his views on how to go about to catch the gang.”
Stratton turned his head abruptly. “But they must be there!” he said sharply. “They surely can’t have gone away.”
“There wasn’t no talk of it when I left,” shrugged Bud. “Still, an’ all, me an’ his nibs wasn’t on exactly confidential terms, an’ he might have forgot to tell me about his plans. Yuh got to remember, too, I’ve been gone over a week.”
A worried wrinkle dodged into Buck’s forehead. All along he had taken the presence of the Mannings so entirely for granted that the possibility of their having left the ranch never once occurred to him. But now, in a flash, he realized that by this time, for all he knew, they might be back in Chicago. As Bud said, it certainly seemed odd that neither of them had appeared when the posse rode up to the ranch-house. What a fool he had been not to make sure about it. Why hadn’t he asked the question outright?
“But I did mention it while we were talking,” he thought, trying to reconstruct that brief interview with Mary Thorne. “Hang it all! No, I didn’t. I was going to, but she interrupted. But she must have known what I referred to.”
Suddenly there came back the vivid recollec
tion of the girl’s face as she said good-by. Outwardly cheerful and composed, that faint pallor and the few lines of strain etched about her mouth and chin struck him now with a tremendous significance. She had known what was in his mind, but purposely refrained from revealing the truth for fear of becoming a drag and hamper to him. She was game through and through.
The realization brought a wave of tenderness surging over the man, followed swiftly by a deepening sense of trouble and uneasiness.
“I don’t like it at all, Bud,” he burst out abruptly. “I wish to thunder we’d found out for sure about those Mannings. If they have gone, one of us at least ought to have stayed.”
“Well, of course I’m only guessin’. Quite likely they’re there yet, only it just seemed funny not to see them. But even if she is left alone with only Mrs. Archer, yuh ain’t worryin’ about anythin’ really happenin’ to her, are yuh? It’ll be darn lonesome, an’ all that, but Lynch an’ the whole gang has beat it—”
“How do we know where they have gone?” cut in Stratton curtly. “They had a good hour’s start, and more. It’ll be getting dusk pretty quick. What’s to prevent one or more of ’em circling back by the southeast? Lynch is capable of anything, and after what you’ve just told me—”
Bud’s eyes widened. “But what would he have to gain—”
“Gain?” repeated Buck irritably. “How the devil do I know what’s in that polecat’s mind? He’s quite capable of hiding behind a woman’s skirts. He’s even capable of carrying her off and trying to force her to marry him, or something like that. I’ve half a mind to—”
He broke off, frowning. Bud, now thoroughly alarmed, stared at him uneasily. “You’d better let me go back,” he said quickly. “They’ll need yuh more.”
“I don’t give a damn whether they need me or not,” retorted Buck swiftly. “I’ve got a better idea, though. We’ll hit Las Vegas inside of ten minutes. The ’phone’s still working, isn’t it?”
“It was the last I knew.”
“I’ll take a chance. There’s been nothing to put it out of business. By calling up we’ll know how things stand a whole lot quicker. If she and Mrs. Archer are alone, I’ll chase back at once and you can show Hardenberg the way into the mountains.”
Though Bud’s face showed no particular pleasure in the plan, he made no comment, and they rode on in silence. Presently the sheriff turned and called to Stratton. The trail was spreading out, he said, and growing more and more difficult to follow in the waning light.
“I don’t understand why they rode so far apart,” he said, “unless it was to make it hard for any one to track them. Looks to me, though, as if they were heading straight for that cut into the mountains you told me about. Is it much further off?”
“About a quarter of a mile below the little ’dobe shack we’re coming to,” Stratton answered. “The creek takes a sharp turn to the southeast, and right at the bend you cross and ride straight west into a narrow draw that doesn’t look like it went anywhere. Further on it twists around and leads into a short cañon that brings you through to a sort of valley lying between the hills. After that everything’s plain sailing. It’s almost as plain as a regular trail.”
“Good,” nodded Hardenberg. “Anything to mark the draw?”
Buck thought a minute. “As I remember, there’s a low ridge on the north side, and a big clump of mesquite on the right just before you leave the flats.”
“Well, you’ll be with us to act as guide. I wish we’d had an hour’s earlier start, though. It won’t be any cinch traveling through these mountains in the dark. Still, at the worst, we can count on Dick Jordan’s bunch to nab them as they come out.”
Buck nodded. “I’m not sure I can stick along with you much longer,” he added briefly. “But Jessup can show you the way quite as well. There seems to be some doubt now about those people I spoke of being still at the ranch.”
“Humph! That would mean that Miss Thorne would be there alone?”
“Yes, except for her aunt. I may be worrying unnecessarily, but with a scoundrel like Lynch—”
“You never can tell,” finished the sheriff as he hesitated. “That’s true enough. We mustn’t take any chances. But how—”
“Telephone. There’s a line from the ranch-house to Las Vegas camp just ahead.” Buck pointed where, through the gathering dusk, the outlines of the adobe shack showed dimly. “If I find there’s no one with her, I’ll ride back.”
“Go to it,” nodded the sheriff. “If you don’t show up I’ll understand. At a pinch I reckon we could find the trail ourselves from your directions.”
As Stratton pulled off to the right, he waved his hand and swept onward with the posse. Buck reached the door and swung out of the saddle, flinging the reins over Pete’s head. Then he found that Bud had followed him.
“I’m goin’ to wait an’ hear what yuh find out,” the youngster stated resolutely. “I can catch up with ’em easy enough.”
“All right.”
Buck hastily entered the shack, which was almost pitch-dark. A faint glint of metal came from the telephone, hanging beside one window; and as he swiftly crossed the room and fumbled for the bell, there stirred within him a sudden sense of apprehension that was almost dread.
* * *
CHAPTER XXIX
CREEPING SHADOWS
With her back against the veranda pillar, Mary Thorne watched the group of mounted men canter down the slope, splash across the creek, and file briskly through the gate leading to middle pasture. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that, for the most part, her glance followed one of them, and when the erect, jaunty, broad-shouldered figure on the big roan had disappeared, she gave a little sigh.
“He looks better—much better,” she murmured.
Her eyes grew dreamy, and in her mind she saw again that little hidden cañon with its overhanging ledge beneath which the man lay stretched out on his blankets. Somehow, the anxiety and suspense, the heart-breaking worry and weariness of that strange experience had faded utterly. There remained only a very vivid recollection of the touch of her hand against his damp forehead, the feeling of his crisp, dark hair as she pushed it gently back, the look of those long, thick lashes lying so still against his pallid face.
Not seldom she had wished those fleeting moments might have been prolonged. Once or twice she was even a little jealous of Bud Jessup’s ministrations; just as, thinking of him now, she was jealous of his constant nearness to Buck and the manner in which he seemed so intently to share all the other’s plans and projects, and even thoughts.
“Well, anyway,” she said suddenly aloud, “I’m glad Stella’s not here.”
Then, realizing that she had spoken aloud, she blushed and looked hastily around. No one was in sight, but a moment or two later Mrs. Archer appeared on the veranda.
“I thought I heard voices a little while ago,” she said, glancing around. “Have the men come back?”
Mary turned to meet her. “No, dear. That was the—the sheriff and some of his men.”
“The sheriff!” An expression of anxiety came into Mrs. Archer’s pretty, faded face. “But what has happened? What—?”
“I’m not quite sure; they had no time to explain.” The girl put an arm reassuringly around the older woman’s shoulder. “But they’re after Tex and the other hands. They’ve done something—”
“Ha!” In any other person the sound would have seemed suspiciously like a crow of undisguised satisfaction. “Well, I’m thankful that at last somebody’s shown some common sense.”
“Why, auntie!” Astonished, the girl held her off at arm’s length and stared into her face. “You don’t mean to say you’ve suspected—?”
Mrs. Archer sniffed. “Suspected! Why, for weeks and weeks I’ve been perfectly certain the creature was up to no good. You know I never trusted him.”
“Yes; but—”
“The last straw was his bringing that ridiculous charge against Buck Green,” Mrs. Archer inte
rrupted with unexpected spirit. “That stamped him for what he was; because a nicer, cleaner, better-mannered young man I’ve seldom seen. He could no more have stolen cattle than—than I could.”
A mental picture of her tiny, delicate, fragile-looking aunt engaged in that strenuous and illicit operation brought a momentary smile to Mary Thorne’s lips. Then her face grew serious.
“But you know I didn’t believe it—really,” she protested. “I offered to keep him on if he’d only assure me he wasn’t here for any—any secret reason. But he wouldn’t, and at the time there seemed nothing to do but let him go.”
“I suppose he might have had some other private reason than stealing cattle,” commented Mrs. Archer.
“He had,” returned Mary, suppressing a momentary sense of annoyance that her aunt had shown the greater faith. “As nearly as I can make out, he was here to shadow Tex. As a matter of fact he really wanted to leave the ranch and work from a different direction, so it turned out all right in the end. He thinks it was Tex himself who secretly instigated the cattle-stealing.”
“The villain!” ejaculated Mrs. Archer energetically. “But where has—er—Buck been all this time? Where is he now?”
The girl smiled faintly. “He was here a little while ago. He and Bud are both with the sheriff’s posse. They believe the men are heading for the mountains and have gone after them.”
Mrs. Archer glanced sharply at her niece, noted a faint flush on the girl’s face, and pursed her lips.
“When are they coming back?” she asked, after a little pause.
Mary shrugged her shoulders. “Not until they catch them, I suppose.”
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