CHAPTER XXVI--KEATS FINDS "SQUINT"
Looking back after he had been riding for some minutes, Bud saw a dozenor more horses break from the group of Arrow buildings and come racingtoward him, spreading out fanwise.
"They've seen me!" breathed Bud, and he leaned over King's shoulders andspoke to him. The animal responded with a burst of speed that brought asmile to Bud's face. For the puncher knew that Taylor and Nortoncouldn't have traveled more than a few miles in the short time that hadpassed since their departure; and he knew also that in a short run--of adozen miles or so--there wasn't a horse in the Dawes section that couldcatch King, barring, of course, Spotted Tail, the real king of rangehorses.
And so Bud bent eagerly to his work, not riding erect in the saddle asis the fashion of the experienced cow-puncher in an unfamiliar country,where pitfalls, breaks, draws, hidden gullies, and weed-grown barrancasprovide hazards that might bring disaster. Bud knew this section of thecountry as well as he knew the interior of the bunkhouse, and with hisknowledge came a confidence that nothing would happen to him or King,except possibly a slip into a gopher hole.
And Bud kept scanning the country far enough ahead to keep King fromrunning into a gopher town. He swung the animal wide in passingthem--for he knew it was the habit of these denizens of the plains toextend their habitat--some venturesome and independent spirits strayingfar from the huddle and congestion of the multitude.
Bud looked back many times during the first two miles, and he saw thatKeats and his men were losing ground; their horses could not keep thepace set by the big bay flier under Bud.
And King was not going as he could go when the necessity arrived. Thisride was a frolic for the big bay, and yet Bud knew he must not forcehim, that he must conserve his wind, for if Taylor and Norton hadyielded to a whim to hurry, even King would need all his speed andendurance to hang on. For the sorrel that had accompanied Spotted Tailwas not so greatly inferior to King that the latter could take libertieswith him.
Bud gloated as he looked back after he had covered another mile. Keatsand his men were still losing ground, though they were not so very farback, either--Bud could almost see the faces of the men. But that, Budknew, was due to the marvelous clarity of the atmosphere.
When the sides of the big hills surrounding the level began to sweepinward rapidly, Bud knew that the grass level was coming to an end, andthat presently he would strike a long stretch of broken country. Beyondthat was a big valley, rich and fertile, in which, according to report,the Arrow herd should be grazing, guarded by the men of the outfit,under Bothwell. But Kelso Basin was still nine or ten miles distant, andBud did not yet dare to let the big bay horse run his best.
Still, when they flashed by a huge promontory that stood sentinel-likeabove the waters of the river--a spot well remembered by Bud, becausemany times while on day duty he had lain prone on its top smoking anddreaming--King was running as lightly as a leaf before the hurricane.
King had entered the section of broken country, with its beds of rockand lava, and huge boulders strewn here and there, relics of giganticupheavals when the earth was young; and Bud was skilfully directing Kingto the stretches of smooth level that he found here and there, when farahead he saw Taylor and Norton.
In ten minutes he was within hailing distance, and he grinned widelywhen, hearing him, they pulled their horses to a halt and, wheeling,faced him.
For Bud saw that they had reached a spot which would make an admirabledefensive position, should Taylor decide to resist Keats. The hills, intheir gradual inward sweep, were close together, so that their crestsseemed to nod to one another. And a little farther down, Bud knew, theyformed a gorge, which still farther on merged into a canon. It was anideal position for a stand--if Taylor would stand and not run for it;and he rather thought Taylor would not run.
Taylor had ridden toward Bud, and was a hundred feet in advance ofNorton when Bud pulled King to a halt, shouting:
"Keats and a dozen men are right behind me--a mile; mebbe two! He's gota warrant for you, chargin' you with murderin' Larry Harlan! I heard oneof his scum sayin' it was to be a clean-up!"
Taylor laughed; he did not seem to be at all interested in Keats or hismen, who at that instant were riding at a pace that was likely to killtheir horses, should they be forced to maintain it.
"Who accused me of murdering Harlan?"
"Keats didn't say. But I heard a guy sayin' that Carrington was wantin'Keats to take you dead!"
The cold gleam in Taylor's eyes and the slight, stiff grin that wreathedhis lips, indicated that he had determined that Keats would have to killhim before taking him.
"A dozen of them, eh?" he said, looking from Bud to Norton deliberately."Well, that's a bunch for three men to fight, but it isn't enough to runfrom. We'll stay here and have it out with them. That is," he added witha quick, quizzical look at the two men, "if one of you is determined tostay."
"One of us?" flared Bud. He gazed hard at Norton, with suspicion andbelligerence in his glance. Norton flushed at the look. "I reckon we'llboth be in at the finish," added Bud.
"Only one," declared Taylor. "We might hold a dozen men off here for agood many hours. But if they were wise and patient they'd get us. Oneman will light out for Kelso Basin to get the outfit. Settle it betweenyou, but be quick about it!"
Taylor swung down from his horse, led the animal out of sight behind ajutting crag into a sort of pocket in the side of the gorge, where therewould be no danger of the magnificent beast being struck by a bullet.Taylor pulled his rifle from its saddle-sheath, examined the mechanism,looked at his pistols, and then returned to where Bud Hemmingway andNeil Norton sat on their horses.
Bud's face was flushed and Norton was grinning. And at just the instantTaylor came in sight of them Norton was saying:
"Well, if you insist, I suppose I shall have to go to Kelso. There isn'ttime to argue."
Norton wheeled his horse, and, with a quick grin at Taylor, sent theanimal clattering down the gorge.
Bud's grin at Taylor was pregnant with guilt.
"Norton didn't want me to stay. There's lots of stubborn cusses in theworld--now, ain't they?"
Taylor's answering smile showed that he understood.
"Get King back here with Spotted Tail, Bud!" he directed. "And take thatpile of rocks for cover. They're coming!"
By the time Bud did as he had been bidden, and was crouching behind ahuge mound of broken rock on the north side of the gorge, Taylor on thesouthern side, with a twenty-foot passage on the comparatively levelfloor of the gorge between them, and an uninterrupted sweep of narrowlevel in front of them, except for here and there a jutting rock or aboulder, they saw Keats and his men just entering the stretch of brokencountry.
The horses of the pursuing outfit were doing their best. They came onover the stretch of treacherous trail, laboring, pounding andclattering; singly sometimes, two and three abreast where there wasroom, keeping well together, their riders urging them with quirt andspur. For far back on the trail they had lost sight of Bud, though Keatshad remembered that Bud had said Taylor had gone to Kelso Basin, andtherefore Keats knew he was on the right trail.
However, he did not want to let Bud get to Kelso before him to warn theArrow outfit; for that would mean a desperate battle with a force equalin numbers to his own. Keats fought best when the advantages were withhim, and he knew his men were similarly constituted. And so he wasriding as hard as he dared, hoping that something would happen to Bud'shorse--that the animal might become winded or fall. A man could not tellwhat _might_ happen in a pursuit of this character.
But the thing that _did_ happen had not figured in Keats's luridconjectures at all. That was why, when he heard Taylor's quickchallenge, he pulled his horse up sharply, so that the animal slippedseveral feet and came to a halt sidewise.
Keats's unexpected halt brought confusion to his followers. A dozen ofthem, crowding Keats hard, and not noticing their leader's halt in time,rode straight against him, their horses jamming t
he narrow gorge,kicking, snorting and squealing in a disordered and uncontrollable mass.
When the tangle had been magically undone--the magic being Taylor'svoice again, burdened with sarcasm bearing upon their excitement--Keatsfound himself nearest the nest of rocks from behind which Taylor's voiceseemed to come.
The jutting crag behind which Taylor had concealed his horse, and whereBud had led King, completely obstructed Keats's view of the gorge behindthe crag, toward Kelso Basin, and Keats did not know but that the entireArrow outfit was concealed behind the rocks and boulders that litteredthe level in the vicinity.
And so he sat motionless, slowly and respectfully raising his hands.Noting his action, his men did likewise.
"That's polite," came Taylor's voice coldly. "Hemmingway says you'relooking for me. What for?"
"I've got a warrant for you, chargin' you with murderin' Larry Harlan."
"Who accused me?"
"Mint Morton, of Nogel."
There was a long silence. Behind the clump of rock Taylor smiledmirthlessly at Bud, who was watching him. For Taylor knew Mint Morton,of Nogel, as a gambler, unscrupulous and dishonest. He had earnedMorton's hatred when one night in a Nogel saloon he had caught Mortoncheating and had forced him to disgorge his winnings. His victim hadbeen a miner on his way East with the earnings of five years in hispockets. Taylor had not been able to endure the spectacle of abjectdespair that had followed the man's loss of all his money.
Taylor did not know that Carrington had hunted Morton up, paying himwell to bring the murder charge, but Taylor did know that he wasinnocent of murder; and by linking Morton with Carrington he couldreadily understand why Keats wanted him. He broke the silence with ashort:
"Who issued the warrant?"
"Judge Littlefield."
"Well," said Taylor, "you can take it right back to him and tell him tolet Carrington serve it. For," he added, a note of grim humor creepinginto his voice, "I'm a heap particular about such things, Keats. Icouldn't let a sneak like you take me in. And I don't like the looks ofthat dirty-looking outfit with you. And so I'm telling you a few things.I'm giving you one minute to hit the breeze out of this section. Ifyou're here when that time is up, I down _you_, Keats! Slope!"
Keats flashed one glance around at his men. Some of them already hadtheir horses in motion; others were nervously fingering theirbridle-reins. Keats sneered at the rock nest ahead of him.
The intense silence which followed Taylor's warning lasted about tenseconds. Then Keats's face paled; he wheeled his horse and sent itscampering over the back trail, his men following, crowding him hard.
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