by Unknown
"You're easily fooled, Steve," sneered Homer. "I've camped with this bird, an' I tell you he's got a passel of Rangers with him somewheres. We're standin' here jawin' waitin' for them to round us up, I reckon."
Overstreet looked at Homer. His eyebrows lifted in a slight surprise. He and the younger Dinsmore had been side partners for years. Homer was a cool customer. It wasn't like him to scare. There was something in this he did not understand. Anyhow, he would back his pal's play till he found out.
"I expect you're right. We can easy enough prove it. Let's light out for the cap-rock an' hole up for a coupla days. Then one of us will slip out an' see if the herd's still here an' no Rangers in sight. We'll keep this gent a prisoner till we know where we're at? How's that?"
"You talk like we was the United States Army, Dave," growled Pete Dinsmore. "We got no way to take care o' prisoners. I'm for settlin' this thing right here."
The outlaws drew closer together and farther from Ridley. He was unarmed and wholly in their power. If he tried to run he could not get twenty yards. The voices of the men fell.
Arthur began to tremble. His face grew gray, his lips bloodless. On the issue of that conference his life hung. The easiest thing to do would be to make an end of him now. Would they choose that way out of the difficulty? He could see that Gurley had, for the moment at least, joined forces with Homer and Dave Overstreet against Pete, but he could hear none of the arguments.
"You're wrong, Pete. We're playin' safe. That's all. My notion is this guy's tellin' the truth. There's only one thing to do. I don't reckon any of us want him to go back to town. But if we do anything with him here, the Rangers are liable to find his body. Oncet up in the cap-rock we can dry-gulch him."
The older Dinsmore gave way with an oath. "All right. Have yore own way, boys. Majority rules. We'll postpone this discussion till later."
Gurley brought the horses. Arthur was mounted behind him, his feet tied beneath the belly of the horse. The rustlers rode in pairs, Homer Dinsmore and Overstreet in the rear.
"What makes you think this fellow has friends near, Homer?" asked his companion.
"He doesn't know enough to ride alone. But I don't care whether he's alone or not. I'm not goin' to have the boy killed. He stood by me on the island to a finish. Of course that wouldn't go with Steve an' Pete, so I put it on the other ground."
"Want to turn him loose, do you?"
"I'd swear him first to padlock his mouth. He'd do it, too, if he said so."
"Some risk that, old-timer."
"I got to do it, Dave. Can't throw him down, can I?"
"Don't see as you can. Well, make yore play when you get ready. I'll shove my chips in beside yours. I never yet killed a man except in a fight an' I've got no fancy for beginnin' now."
"Much obliged, Dave."
"How far do you 'low to go? If Pete gets ugly like he sometimes does, he'll be onreasonable."
"I'll manage him. If he does get set there'll be a pair of us. Mebbe I'm just about as stubborn as he is."
"I believe you. Well, I'll be with you at every jump of the road," Overstreet promised.
The discussion renewed itself as soon as the outlaws had hidden themselves in a pocket of the cap-rock. Again they drew apart from their prisoner and talked in excited but reduced voices.
"The Rangers have got no evidence we collected this fellow," argued Gurley. "Say he disappears off'n the earth. Mebbe he died of thirst lost on the plains. Mebbe a buffalo bull killed him. Mebbe--"
"Mebbe he went to heaven in a chariot of fire," drawled Overstreet, to help out the other's imagination.
"The point is, why should we be held responsible? Nobody knows we were within fifty miles of him, doggone it."
"That's where you're wrong. The Rangers know it. They're right on our heels, I tell you," differed Homer Dinsmore.
"We'll get the blame. No manner o' doubt about that," said Overstreet.
"Say we do. They can't prove a thing--not a thing."
"You talk plumb foolish, Steve. Why don't you use yore brains?" answered Homer impatiently. "We can go just so far. If we overstep the limit this country will get too hot for us. There'll be a grand round-up, an' we'd get ours without any judge or jury. The folks of this country are law-abidin', but there's a line we can't cross."
"That's all right," agreed Pete. "But there's somethin' in what Steve says. If this tenderfoot wandered off an' got lost, nobody's goin' to hold us responsible for him."
"He didn't no such thing get lost. Listen. Tex Roberts was with him the day Steve--fell over the box. Tex was with him when we had the rumpus with the Kiowas on the Canadian. Those lads hunt together. Is it likely this Ridley, who don't know sic' 'em, got so far away from the beaten trails alone? Not in a thousand years. There's a bunch of Rangers somewheres near. We got to play our hands close, Pete."
"We're millin' around in circles, Homer. Why does this fellow Ridley claim he's alone? He must know it's up to him to persuade us his friends are about two jumps behind us."
"One guess is as good as another. Here's mine," said Overstreet. "He wants to throw us off our guard. He's hopin' we'll pull some fool break an' the Rangers will make a gather of our whole bunch."
"Good enough," said Homer, nodding agreement. "Another thing. This lad Ridley's not game. But he's a long way from bein' yellow. He's not gonna queer the campaign of the Rangers by tellin' what he knows."
"Betcha I can make him talk," boasted Gurley. "Put a coupla sticks between the roots of his fingers an' press--"
"Think we're a bunch of 'Paches, Steve?" demanded Homer roughly. "Come to that, I'll say plain that I'm no murderer, let alone torture. I've killed when I had to, but the other fellow had a run for his money. If I beat him to the draw that was his lookout. He had no holler comin'. But this kid--not for me."
"Different here," said Pete evenly. "He knew what he was up against when he started. If it was us or him that had to go, I wouldn't hesitate a minute. Question is, what's safest for us?"
"The most dangerous thing for us is to harm him. Do that, an' we won't last a month in this country."
"What's yore idea, then, Homer? We can't hold him till Christmas. Soon as we let him go, he'll trot back an' tell all he knows," protested his brother irritably.
"What does he know? Nothin' except that we found him when he claimed to be lost an' that we looked after him an' showed him how to get home. Even if he's seen those cattle he can't prove we burned the brands, can he?"
"No-o."
"In a day or two we'll take the trail. I'll put it to Ridley that we haven't time to take him back to town an' that he'd sure get lost if we turned him loose here. We'll drop him somewheres on the trail after we've crossed the line."
"Fine an' dandy," jeered Gurley. "We'll introduce him to the herd an' take him along so's he'll be sure we're the rustlers."
They wrangled back and forth, covering the same ground time and again. At last they agreed to postpone a decision till next day.
Homer reported the issue of their debate, colored to suit his purpose, to the white-faced Ranger. "I reckon we'll have to look out for you, Ridley. It wouldn't do to turn you loose. You'd get lost sure. Mebbe in a day or two some of us will be driftin' in to town an' can take you along."
"If you'd start me in the right direction I think I could find my way back," Arthur said timidly.
"No chance, young fellow. You'll stay right here till we get good an' ready for you to go. See?"
The Ranger did not push the point. He knew very well it would not be of the least use. His fears were temporarily allayed. He felt sure that Homer Dinsmore would put up a stiff argument before he would let him be sacrificed.
CHAPTER XXXI
A PAIR OF DEUCES
From the lookout point among the rocks where he was stationed Overstreet shouted a warning to his companions below.
"Fellow with a white flag ridin' in. Looks like he might be a Ranger."
Pete Dinsmore dropped a coffee-pot and t
ook three strides to his rifle. His brother Homer and Steve Gurley garnished themselves promptly with weapons. They joined the lookout, and from the big rocks could see without being seen.
The man coming to their hang-out had a handkerchief or a flour sack tied to the barrel of his rifle and was holding it in the air. He jogged along steadily without any haste and without any apparent hesitation. He was leading a saddled riderless horse.
A rifle cracked.
Pete Dinsmore whirled on Gurley angrily. "What you do that for?"
Malice, like some evil creature, writhed in Gurley's face. "It's that fellow Roberts. We got him right at last. Leggo my arm."
"I'll beat yore head off if you shoot again. Lucky for you you missed. Don't you see he comes here as a messenger. Ellison musta sent him."
"I don' care how he comes. He'll never go away except feet first." The man who had been horsewhipped by the Ranger was livid with rage.
Dinsmore swung him round by the shoulder savagely. "Who elected you boss of this outfit, Steve? Don't ride on the rope or you'll sure git a fall."
The eyes of Pete were blazing. Gurley gave way sullenly.
"Tha's all right. I ain't aimin' noways to cross you. I can wait to git this fellow if you say so."
The Ranger had pulled up his horse and was waving the improvised flag. Pete gave directions.
"Homer, you an' Dave go down an' find out what he wants. Don't bring him in unless you blindfold him first. We don't wanta introduce him to the place so as he can walk right in again any time."
The two men named walked out to meet the Ranger. They greeted him with grim little nods, which was exactly the salutation he gave them. The hard level eyes of the men met without yielding an eyebeat.
"Don't you know a flag of truce when you see it, Dinsmore?" demanded Roberts.
"Excuse that shot, Mr. Ranger," said Homer evenly. "It was a mistake."
"Gurley does make 'em," returned Jack, guessing shrewdly. "Some day he'll make one too many."
"I take it you came on business."
"Why, yes. Captain Ellison sent me with his compliments to get Ranger Ridley."
"Lost him, have you?"
"You can't exactly call him lost when we know where he is."
"Meanin' that he's here?"
"You ring the bell first shot."
Overstreet broke in, to mark time. "You think we've got him?"
"We do. Don't you?"
"And Ellison wants him, does he?"
"Wants him worse 'n a heifer cow does her calf." Roberts laughed softly, as though from some fund of inner mirth. "He's kinda hopin' you'll prove stubborn so as to give him a chance to come an' get him."
"Where is Ellison?"
The Ranger smiled. "He didn't give me any instructions about tellin' you where he is."
"H'mp! You can come in an' talk with Pete. We'll have to blindfold you," said Dinsmore.
The envoy made no objections. He dismounted. A bandana was tied across his eyes, and the men led him into the pocket of rock. The handkerchief was removed.
Jack told again what he had come for.
"How did you know we were here?" demanded Pete.
"It's our business to know such things." Jack did not think it wise to mention that he had been here once before, the same day he found Rutherford Wadley's body a few miles away at the foot of a bluff.
"Ridley told us he was alone--no Rangers a-tall with him, he said."
"Did he?" Jack showed amusement. "What did you expect him to tell you? He draws pay as a Ranger."
"What's Ellison's proposition?"
"Captain Ellison hasn't any proposition to make, if by that you mean compromise. You're to turn Ridley over to me. That's all."
"An' where do we get off?" snorted Pete. "What does that buy us?"
"It buys you six hours' time for a get-away. I've got no business to do it, but I'll promise to loaf around an' not report to Captain Ellison till after noon. I'll go that far."
"I don' know's we want to make any get-away. We could hold the fort right here against quite a few Rangers, I reckon."
"Suit yourself," said Jack indifferently.
Pete chewed tobacco slowly and looked down sullenly at a flat rock without seeing it. Anger burned in him like a smouldering fire in peat. He hated this man Roberts, and Ellison he regarded as a natural enemy. Nothing would have pleased him more than to settle his feud with the Ranger on the spot with a six-shooter. But that meant a hurried exit from the Panhandle at a sacrifice of his accumulated profits. This did not suit Dinsmore's plans. His purpose was to leave Texas with enough money to set him up in business in Colorado or Wyoming. It would not do to gratify his revenge just now. Nor did he dare to carry out his threat and let the Rangers attack him. His policy was to avoid any conflict if possible.
"Have to talk it over with the other boys," he said abruptly. "You wait here."
Jack sat down on a rock while the rustlers retired and discussed the situation. There was not room for much difference of opinion. The Rangers had forced their hand. All they could do was to slip out of the rim-rock and make for another zone of safety. This would involve losing the stock they had rustled, but their option was a choice of two evils and this was decidedly the lesser.
Pete announced their decision truculently, his chin thrust out.
"One of these days we'll tangle, you 'n' me, young fellow. But not to-day. Take Ridley an' git out pronto before I change my mind. For a plug of tobacco I'd go to foggin' the air right now."
The prisoner was brought forward. His weapons were restored to him. With the long strain of fear lifted at last from his mind, it was hard for him to keep down a touch of hysterical joy. But he managed to return Jack's casual greeting with one as careless to all appearance.
He had caught the drift of the talk and he played up to his friend promptly. "I was rather lookin' for you or one of the other boys about now, Jack," he said. "Mighty careless of me to get nabbed asleep."
Ten minutes later the two Rangers were outside the pocket riding across the plain.
"Hope Pete won't change his mind an' plump a few bullets at us. He's a right explosive proposition," said Roberts.
It was all Arthur could do to keep from quickening the pace. His mind wouldn't be easy until several miles lay between him and his late captors.
"Where's Captain Ellison waiting?" asked Ridley.
"He's probably at Tascosa or Mobeetie. I haven't seen him since you have."
"Didn't he send you to the Dinsmores after me?"
"Why, no."
Arthur drew a deep breath of relief. If he had weakened in his story that he was alone and had told the truth, he would have brought ruin upon both himself and his friend.
"You mean you went in there on a pure bluff, knowing how they hated you and what a big chance there was that they would murder you?"
"I took a chance, I reckon. But it looked good to me."
"If I had told them you and I were alone--"
"I figured you wouldn't do that. I had a notion my bluff would stick. They wouldn't think I'd come to them unless I had strong backin'. The bigger the bluff the better the chance of its workin'."
"Unless I had told that there were only two of us."
"That was one of the risks I had to gamble on, but I felt easy in my mind about that. You'll notice one thing if you stay with the Rangers, Art. They can get away with a lot of things they couldn't pull off as private citizens. The law is back of us, and back of the law is the State of Texas. When it comes to a showdown, mighty few citizens want to get us after them good and hard. We always win in the end. The bad-men all know that."
"Just the same, for cold nerve I never saw the beat of what you did now."
"Sho! Nothin' to that. A pair of deuces is good as a full house when your hand ain't called. We'll swing over to the left here an' gather up that bunch of rustled stock, Art."
Late that afternoon, as they were following the dust of the drive, Ridley voiced a doubt in his hea
rt.
"Isn't there a chance that the Dinsmores will follow us and find out we're alone?"
"Quite a chance," agreed Jack cheerfully. "If so, we're liable to swap bullets yet. But I don't reckon they'll do that hardly. More likely they're hittin' the trail for Palo Duro to hole up."
The outlaws did not molest them during the drive. Four days later they reached town with their thirsty, travel-worn herd.
