CHAPTER XV
A HIDDEN TRAIL
A pounding at his door woke Loudon in the morning.
"'Lo," he called, sleepily.
"Time for yore dinner!" shouted Mrs. Burr through the panels. "It'snoon."
"I'll get right up."
"Yuh will not. Yuh'll stay right where yuh are. I'm comin' in."
She entered, bearing a basin and towels.
"There," she said, setting the basin on the chair at the bedside."There, yuh can wash yore own face. Hungry?"
"Some," he sputtered through streaming water.
"That's good. I got a nice steak an' 'taters an' gravy an' hot bread,an' there's a friend wants to see yuh."
"Who?"
"Swing Tunstall. He just rode in from the Flyin' M. I'm goin' outthere this afternoon. Dunno how long I'll be gone. But yuh'll be allright. I done asked Lil Mace to come over here an' live while I'maway. Lil an' Kate an' Dorothy'll look after yuh. An' mind yuh, dowhat they tell yuh, or I'll make it hot for yuh when I come back."
"What's the matter? Anythin' happened at the ranch?"
"Oh, nothin' much--over a hundred head o' hosses run off, an' Scotty'sgot two bullets in him."
"What!"
"Yep. That's why I'm goin' out. Got to look after Scotty. Swing sayshe ain't hurt bad, an' Scotty is tougher'n back-leather, but stillthere'd ought to be a woman there, so I'm elected. No, I can't giveyuh no details. Ain't got time. Swing will tell yuh all he knows.Good-bye, an' don't forget what I said 'bout mindin' them three girls,Tom."
She picked up the basin and hastened from the room, leaving the dooropen. Through the doorway Loudon could see a section of the kitchenand Kate and Dorothy busy at the stove. But the objects in view didnot register any impressions on his shocked brain. Scotty shot! Ahundred horses stolen! Here was a grim matter indeed, one requiringinstant action, and he was laid up with a sprained ankle! Veryarbitrary ladies, the three Fates. Heartily, but under his breath, forDorothy was coming, Loudon cursed his luck.
"Well, invalid," smiled Dorothy, "here's your dinner. Shall I feedyou, or perhaps you'd prefer Mrs. Mace or Kate? How about it?"
"I only sprained my ankle," said Loudon, red to the ears.
He was wearing one of the Captain's nightgowns. The middle-agedscrutiny of the mother had not quickened him to the fact that thegarment was much too small for him, but under the eyes of the daughterhe became burningly self-conscious. The knowledge that Scotty hadadvised Dorothy to fall in love with him did not lessen the agony ofthe moment.
"I'll put it on this chair," said tactful Dorothy, partly fathoming thecause of Loudon's distress. "Would you like to see Mr. Tunstall?"
"Shore I would. I didn't know he was here at the house."
"He's camping on the doorstep. I'll send him in. Isn't it awful aboutScotty Mackenzie? And all those horses, too. Nothing as bad as thisever happened in Sunset County before."
"It won't happen again. Not right away, yuh can bet on that."
Dorothy withdrew, and Swing Tunstall entered. The bristle-haired youngman shut the door, grinned toothfully at Loudon, and sat downcross-legged on the floor.
"Howdy, Swing," said Loudon, "why ain't yuh chasin' the hoss thieves?"
"'Cause," replied Tunstall, "Doubleday sent me in to tell the sheriffan' get a doc for Scotty. The doc's on his way, an' the sheriff's duein to-day from Rocket. All the outfit, 'cept Doubleday an' GiantMorton, are cavortin' over the hills an' far away a-sniffin' to pick upthe trail."
"When did it happen?"
"Well, as near as we could make out, after siftin' out Scotty'scuss-words an' gettin' down to hard-rock, Scotty was shot 'bout eightor nine o'clock in the evenin'."
"How?"
"Says he heard a racket in the stallion corral. No more'n he slips outof the office when he's plugged twice--once in the left leg, an' a deepgraze on his head. The head shot is what knocked him out. He said hedidn't come to till after midnight. He drug himself into the officean' tied himself up the best he could an' lived offen airtights till wepulled in. He didn't even know any hosses had been run off till afterwe got back."
"I s'pose he was shot the evenin' of the dance?"
"Shore. Oh, ain't it lovely? While we're chasin' imaginaryfeather-dusters, the Flyin' M hosses are vanishin'. It shore was aslick trick. The gent that thought up that plan for getting' everytwo-legged man in the country out of the way is a wizard. I'd admireto see him, I would. I'll bet he's all head."
"He ain't exactly a fool," admitted Loudon, thinking of Sam Blakely.
Certainly the manner in which the horse-stealing had been carried outbore the ear-marks of 88 methods.
"They had two days' start," observed Swing Tunstall. "Time to ride toOld Mexico almost."
"Telescope's a good tracker," said Loudon, and began to eat his dinner.
"None better. But even Telescope can't do wonders. By the trail thehoss-band headed east. Them hosses was over a hundred, maybe a hundredan' fifty, miles away by the time our outfit got started. In a hundredan' fifty miles o' country yuh'll find lots o' hard ground an' maybe arainstorm."
"Rain ain't none likely at this time o' year."
"It ain't likely, but hoss thieves with a two-day start are in luck atthe go-off. An' luck comes in bunches. If they's any rain wanderin''round foot-free an' fancy-loose these gents will get it. An' thenwhere's Telescope an' his trackin'?"
When Tunstall had departed in search of diversion and to buycartridges, Loudon locked his hands behind his head and stared at theceiling. In his mind he turned over the events of the past few days.He was sure that Sam Blakely and the 88 outfit were the prime movers inthe shooting of Scotty and the stealing of Scotty's horses.
Yet, save that the exceeding cleverness of procedure smacked ofBlakely, there were no grounds for suspecting the 88 men. Blakely andhis gang were not the only cunning horse thieves in the territory.There were dozens of others free and unhung. Nevertheless, Loudon'sinstinct fastened the guilt on the 88.
"I'm shore," he muttered, "certain shore. But there ain't nothin' togo by. Not a thing. An' yuh can't prove nothin' lyin' on yore backwith a bumped ankle."
Half an hour later the entrance of Kate Saltoun interrupted his gloomyreflections.
"Feeling worse, Tom?" she inquired, her expression anxious.
"Me? Oh, not a little bit. I feel just like a flock o' birds withyaller wings."
"You needn't be snippy. I know how your ankle must pain you, but----"
"It ain't the ankle, Kate. That feels fine, only I know I can't standon it. It's what I'm thinkin' about. I was wonderin' 'bout Scotty an'all."
"If I sit with you, would--would you like to talk?" said she with ahesitant smile, the slow red mounting to her cheeks.
"If it wouldn't bother yuh too much."
"I'll be right back."
Kate took away the dishes, and Loudon, who had pulled the blankets upto his chin at her entry, snuggled deeper into the bed and wishedhimself elsewhere.
"What else could I say?" he asked himself, dismally, "Lord A'mighty, Iwish she'd keep away from me."
Kate returned quickly, carried the chair to the foot of the bed, andsat down. She crossed one leg over the other and clasped her hands inher lap. Silence ensued for a brief space of time.
"Well," said Kate, leadingly.
"I was just a-wonderin' about this hoss deal," began Loudon. "Ithink----"
"I know what you intended saying," Kate observed, calmly. "You see init the fine Italian hand of Blakely."
"You always could talk high, wide, and handsome," said Loudon,admiringly. "How djuh guess it?"
"I know Sam Blakely. That's enough. He'd hesitate at nothing, nomatter how vile or wicked it might be. Oh, don't look so eager. Ican't prove it. It's my instinct, that's all. I hate him--hatehim--hate him!"
Kate covered her face with her hands.
"They'll hear yuh in the kitchen," cautioned Loudon in a whispe
r.
Kate lowered her hands and looked at him wearily. When she spoke hervoice was perfectly composed.
"No, they won't. Dorothy's over at Lil's. Don't worry, though. Isha'n't lose control of myself. Something came over me then. I won'tdo it again."
"Well, you think like I do, but I can't prove nothin', neither. Neverhave been able to prove nothin' against the 88. Say, does yore dadstill believe like he used to about them cows?"
"The Crossed----"
"No, _his_ cows. Them cows that disappeared now an' then."
"I believe he does. He never talks much, you know, and it's sometimeshard for me to tell what he thinks. But I don't believe he suspectsthe 88. He was very angry when I broke the engagement. I wouldn'tgive him my reason, and he stormed and stamped around, and quarrelledwith me all the time. That's partly why I came up here to visit LilMace."
"If we could only wake up Fort Creek County--but them fellahs, most of'em, are for the 88, an' them that ain't have to take it out inthinkin' a lot. Now if we could cinch this hoss-stealin' on the 88 itwould help a lot down in Fort Creek County. The honest folks downthere would have somethin' to go on, an' they'd paint for warimmediate, an' with the boys from up here it would be a cinch. We'd goover the 88 outfit like a landslide. An' here I am throwed an'hog-tied. Say----" Loudon's mouth opened wide. His eyes shone. Inhis excitement he raised himself on his elbow--"I got it! I got it!"
"What?" Kate leaned toward him, lips parted.
"It ain't possible that dance was just luck," said Loudon, rapidly."It couldn't just 'a' happened all hunky-dory so that fellah fromHatchet Creek would find all the boys in town. Not by a jugful itcouldn't! It was set for that night a-purpose. Now who started theball a-rollin' for that dance?"
He gazed triumphantly at Kate. Her eyes sparkled.
"I'll try and find out for you," she said.
"Howdy, folks?"
It was Pete O'Leary who spoke, and he was standing beside the kitchentable looking in on them. Loudon's mouth tightened. How much of theirconversation had O'Leary heard?
"Good afternoon, Mr. O'Leary," said Kate, rising and advancing to thedoorway. "Looking for Dorothy, aren't you? Oh, I know you are.You'll find her down at Mrs. Mace's.... Yes, it's a beautiful day,beautiful. Good afternoon, Mr. O'Leary, good afternoon."
In the face of this Pete O'Leary departed. Kate went into the kitchen.In a few minutes she returned, laughing.
"He didn't go into Lil's," she said. "He went on toward Main Street.I watched him. He's a nervy individual. Dorothy doesn't like him, andI don't, either."
"I wonder if he did come to see Dorothy, or----"
"He came to see me."
"You!" Loudon's surprise was patent.
"Yes, isn't it charming? Turned him out in quick fashion, didn't I?The pest! Dorothy said he clung to her like glue till I came. He'sdeserted her for me ever since the dance. She baked me a cake. Saidit was a reward. She'd never been able to get rid of him. But I'mafraid Dorothy's too tender-hearted. I don't mind being rude. Why,what's the matter?"
"I was just a-wonderin' how much that fellah heard?"
"Oh, nothing," said Kate, carelessly. "We weren't talking loudly, werewe? Does it make any difference?"
"It shore does. O'Leary's in with the 88, or I'm a Dutchman."
"He is!"
"Shore," Loudon nodded. "I got proof o' that, anyhow."
"Heavens! If he heard what we were saying he'll warn Blakely and therest. And we can't stop him! We can't stop him!"
"Not yet we can't. I can't, special."
Kate stared steadily at Loudon.
"Tom," said she, after a silence, "if Pete O'Leary is Blakely's friendthen Pete O'Leary got up that dance."
"Oh, I'm bright!" groaned Loudon. "I must be losin' my mind. There itwas, plain as the brand on a hoss, an' I never seen it. O' course itwas him."
"I'll soon find out," Kate exclaimed, briskly. "I'll ask Lil andDorothy and Mrs. Ragsdale and Mrs. Dan Smith. They'll know. Do youmind being left alone for a while?"
"Not a bit--I mean----"
"Now never mind. I know perfectly well what you mean. Here, I'll putyour gun where you can reach it. If you want anything, shoot."
She plumped his pillow, patted and pulled the blankets to smoothness,and was off.
"Ain't it amazin'?" marvelled Loudon. "Now if anybody had told me thatI could talk friendly again with Kate Saltoun, I'd 'a' called him aliar. I shore would."
Ten minutes later plump Mrs. Mace entered and interrupted a flow ofvery bitter reflections on Pete O'Leary.
"Well, Mister Man, how's the ankle?" inquired Mrs. Mace, brightly."Now don't look so glum. Kate'll be back before a great while."
"I wasn't thinkin' o' her," was Loudon's ungallant retort.
"Yuh'd ought to. I guess yuh was, too. Yuh needn't be bashful withme. I'm Kate's best friend. An' I want to tell you right now I'mawful glad the pair of yuh got over yore mad. It don't pay to quarrel.I never do, not even when Jim Mace comes in all mud without wipin' hisfeet. Lord, what trials you men are! I don't really know how we poorwomen get along sometimes, I don't indeed. Want a drink o' water? Yuhcan't have nothin' else. Mis' Burr said yuh couldn't."
"Then I guess that goes as it lays. But I ain't thirsty, an' I don'tneed nothin'. Honest."
"Yes, yuh do," contradicted Mrs. Mace, gazing critically at him. "Yuhneed yore hair brushed. It's all mussed, an' invalids should lookneat. Don't start in to sputter. I sha'n't brush yore hair, but I'lltell Kate she's no great shakes for a nurse. Now I think of it, Kate'shair was mussed up some, too. H'm-m-m. What yuh gettin' red about?No call to blush that I can see. Oh, you men!"
With a significant wink Mrs. Mace whisked kittenishly into the kitchen.Loudon could hear her lifting stove-lids. He perspired freely. Thelady's weighty bantering had raised his temperature.
What a world! Scotty urged him to make love to Dorothy. Mrs. Burradvised him to set matters right with Kate. While Mrs. Mace hadeverything settled. Between the three of them and his other troubleshe believed he would go mad.
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