CHAPTER 21. THE SIGNAL LIGHTS
In a little hill-rift about a mile back of the Lazy D Ranch was adeserted miner's cabin.
The hut sat on the edge of a bluff that commanded a view of thebuildings below, while at the same time the pines that surrounded itscreened the shack from any casual observation. A thin curl of smoke wasrising from the mud chimney, and inside the cabin two men lounged beforethe open fire.
"It's his move, and he is going to make it soon. Every night I lookfor him to drop down on the ranch. His hate's kind of volcanic, Mr. NedBannister's is, and it's bound to bubble over mighty sudden one of thesedays," said the younger of the two, rising and stretching himself.
"It did bubble over some when he drove two thousand of my sheep over thebluff and killed the whole outfit," suggested the namesake of the manmentioned.
"Yes, I reckon that's some irritating," agreed McWilliams. "But if Iknow him, he isn't going to be content with sheep so long as he can takeit out of a real live man."
"Or woman," suggested the sheepman.
"Or woman," agreed the other. "Especially when he thinks he can cut y'udeeper by striking at her. If he doesn't raid the Lazy D one of thesenights, I'm a blamed poor prophet."
Bannister nodded agreement. "He's near the end of his rope. He couldsee that if he were blind. When we captured Bostwick and they got aconfession out of him, that started the landslide against him. It beganto be noised abroad that the government was going to wipe him out. Folksbegan to lose their terror of him, and after that his whole outfit beganto want to turn State's evidence. He isn't sure of one of them now;can't tell when he will be shot in the back by one of his own scoundrelsfor that two thousand dollars reward."
The foreman strolled negligently to the door. His eyes driftedindolently down into the valley, and immediately sparkled withexcitement.
"The signal's out, Bann," he exclaimed. "It's in your window."
The sheepman leaped to his feet and strode to the door. Down in thevalley a light was gleaming in a window. Even while he looked anotherlight appeared in a second window.
"She wants us both," cried the foreman, running to the little corralback of the house.
He presently reappeared with two horses, both saddled, and they took thedownward trail at once.
"If Miss Helen can keep him in play till we arrive," murmured Macanxiously.
"She can if he gives her a chance, and I think he will. There's a kindof cat instinct in him to play with his prey."
"Yes, but he missed his kill last time by letting her fool him. That'swhat I'm afraid of' that he won't wait."
They had reached lower ground now, and could put their ponies at apounding gallop that ate up the trail fast. As they approached thehouses, both men drew rein and looked carefully to their weapons. Thenthey slid from the saddles and slipped noiselessly forward.
What the foreman had said was exactly true. Helen Messiter did want themboth, and she wanted them very much indeed.
After supper she had been dreamily playing over to herself one ofChopin's waltzes, when she became aware, by some instinct, that she wasnot alone in the room. There had been no least sound, no slightest stirto betray an alien presence. Yet that some one was in the room she knew,and by some subtle sixth sense could even put a name to the intruder.
Without turning she called over her shoulder: "Shall I finish thewaltz?" No faintest tremor in the clear, sweet voice betrayed the racingheart.
"Y'u're a cool hand, my friend," came his ready answer. "But I thinkwe'll dispense with the music. I had enough last time to serve me fortwice."
She laughed as she swung on the stool, with that musical scorn whichboth allured and maddened. "I did rather do you that time," she allowed.
"This is the return match. You won then. I win now," he told her, with alook that chilled.
"Indeed! But isn't that rather discounting the future?"
"Only the immediate future. Y'u're mine, my beauty, and I mean to takey'u with me."
Just a disdainful sweep of her eyes she gave him as she rose from thepiano-stool and rearranged the lamps. "You mean so much that never comesto pass, Mr. Bannister. The road to the nether regions is paved withgood intentions, we are given to understand. Not that yours can by anystretch of imagination be called 'good intentions.'"
"Contrariwise, then, perhaps the road to heaven may be paved with evilintentions. Since y'u travel the road with me, wherever it may lead, itwere but gallant to hope so."
He took three sharp steps toward her and stood looking down in her face,her sweet slenderness so close to him that the perfume mounted to hisbrain. Surely no maiden had ever been more desirable than this one, whoheld him in such contemptuous estimation that only her steady eyesmoved at his approach. These held to his and defied him, while she stoodleaning motionless against the table with such strong and supple grace.She knew what he meant to do, hated him for it, and would not give himthe satisfaction of flying an inch from him or struggling with him.
"Your eyes are pools of splendor. That's right. Make them flash fire.I love to see such spirit, since it offers a more enticing pleasurein breaking," he told her, with an admiration half ironic but whollygenuine. "Pools of splendor, my beauty! Therefore I salute them."
At the touch of his lips upon her eyelids a shiver ran through her, butstill she made no movement, was cold to him as marble. "You coward!" shesaid softly, with an infinite contempt.
"Your lips," he continued to catalogue, "are ripe as fresh flesh ofSouthern fruit. No cupid ever possessed so adorable a mouth. A worshiperof Eros I, as now I prove."
This time it was the mouth he kissed, the while her unconquered spiritlooked out of the brave eyes, and fain would have murdered him. In turnhe kissed her cold cheeks, the tip of one of her little ears, the small,clenched fist with which she longed to strike him.
"Are you quite through?"
"For the present, and now, having put the seal of my ownership on hermore obvious charms, I'll take my bride home."
"I would die first."
"Nay, you'll die later, Madam Bannister, but not for many years, Ihope," he told her, with a theatrical bow.
"Do you think me so weak a thing as your words imply?"
"Rather so strong that the glory of overcoming y'u fills me with joy.Believe me, madam, though your master I am not less your slave," hemocked.
"You are neither my master nor my slave, but a thing I detest," shesaid, in a low voice that carried extraordinary intensity.
"And obey," he added, suavely. "Come, madam, to horse, for ourhoneymoon."
"I tell you I shall not go."
"Then, in faith, we'll re-enact a modern edition of 'The Taming of theShrew.' Y'u'll find me, sweet, as apt at the part as old Petruchio." Hepaced complacently up the room and back, and quoted glibly:
"And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humor. He that knows betterhow to tame a shrew, Now let him, speak; 'tis charity to show."
"Would you take me against my will?"
"Y'u have said it. What's your will to me? What I want I take. And Isure want my beautiful shrew." His half-shuttered eyes gloated on her ashe rattled off a couple more lines from the play he had mentioned.
"Kate, like the hazel-twig, Is straight and slender, and as brown in hueAs hazel-nuts, and sweeter than the kernels."
She let a swift glance travel anxiously to the door. "You are in a verypoetical mood to-day."
"As befits a bridegroom, my own." He stepped lightly to the window andtapped twice on the pane. "A signal to bring the horses round. If y'uhave any preparations to make, any trousseau to prepare, y'u better setthat girl of yours to work."
"I have no preparations to make."
"Coming to me simply as y'u are? Good! We'll lead the simple life."
Nora, as it chanced, knocked and entered at his moment. The sight ofher vivid good looks truck him for the first time. At sight of himshe stopped, gazing with parted lips, a double row of pearls shiningthrough.
He turned swi
ftly to the mistress. "Y'u ought not to be alone thereamong so many men. It wouldn't be proper. We'll take the girl along withus."
"Where?" Nora's parted lips emitted.
"To Arden, my dear." He interrupted himself to look at his watch. "Iwonder why that fellow doesn't come with the horses. They should passthis window."
Bannister, standing jauntily with his feet astride as he looked outof the window, heard someone enter the room. "Did y'u bring round thehorses?" he snapped, without looking round.
"NO, WE ALLOWED THEY WOULDN'T BE NEEDED."
At sound of the slow drawl the outlaw wheeled like a flash, his handtraveling to the hilt of the revolver that hung on his hip. But he wastoo late. Already two revolvers covered him, and he knew that both hiscousin and McWilliams were dead shots. He flashed one venomous look atthe mistress of the ranch.
"Y'u fooled me again. That lamp business was a signal, and I was toothick-haided to see it. My compliments to y'u, Miss Messiter."
"Y'u are under arrest," announced his cousin.
"Y'u don't say." His voice was full of sarcastic admiration. "And youdone it with your little gun! My, what a wonder y'u are!"
"Take your hand from the butt of that gun. Y'u better relieve him ofit, Mac. He's got such a restless disposition he might commit suicide byreaching for it."
"What do y'u think you're going to do with me now y'u have got me,Cousin Ned?"
"We're going to turn y'u over to the United States Government."
"Guess again. I have a thing, or two to say to that."
"You're going to Gimlet Butte with us, alive or dead."
The outlaw intentionally misunderstood. "If I've got to take y'u, thenwe'll say y'u go dead rather than alive."
"He was going to take Nora and me with him," Helen explained to herfriends.
Instantly the man swung round on her. "But now I've changed my mind,ma'am. I'm going to take my cousin with me instead of y'u ladies."
Helen caught his meaning first, and flashed it whitely to her lover. Itdawned on him more slowly.
"I see y'u remember, Miss Messiter," he continued, with a cruel, silkenlaugh. "He gave me his parole to go with me whenever I said the word.I'm saying it now." He sat down astride a chair, put his chin on theback cross-bar, and grinned malevolently from one to another.
"What's come over this happy family? It don't look so joyous all of asudden. Y'u don't need to worry, ma'am, I'll send him back to y'u allright--alive or dead. With his shield or on it, y'u know. Ha! ha!"
"You will not go with him?" It was wrung from Helen as a low cry, andstruck her lover's heart.
"I must," he answered. "I gave him my word, y'u remember."
"But why keep it? You know what he is, how absolutely devoid of honor."
"That is not quite the question, is it?" he smiled.
"Would he keep his word to you?"
"Not if a lie would do as well. But that isn't the point, either."
"It's quixotic--foolish--worse than that--ridiculous," she implored.
"Perhaps, but the fact remains that I am pledged."
"'I could not love thee, dear, so much Loved I not honor more,'"
murmured the villain in the chair, apparently to the ceiling. "Dear Ned,he always was the soul of honor. I'll have those lines carved on histombstone."
"You see! He is already bragging that he means to kill you," said thegirl.
"I shall go armed," the sheepman answered.
"Yes, but he will take you into the mountain fastnesses, where the menthat serve him will do his bidding. What is one man among so many?"
"Two men, ma'am," corrected the foreman.
"What's that?" The outlaw broke off the snatch of opera he was singingto slew his head round at McWilliams.
"I said two. Any objections, seh?"
"Yes. That wasn't in the contract."
"We're giving y'u surplusage, that's all. Y'u wanted one of us, and y'uget two. We don't charge anything for the extra weight," grinned Mac.
"Oh, Mac, will you go with him?" cried Helen, with shining eyes.
"Those are my present intentions, Miss Helen," laughed her foreman.
Whereat Nora emerged from the background and flung herself on him. "Y'ucan't go, Jim! I won't have you go!" she cried.
The young man blushed a beautiful pink, and accepted gladly this overtevidence of a reconciliation. "It's all right, honey. Don't y'u thinktwo big, grown-up men are good to handle that scalawag? Sho! Don't y'uworry."
"Miss Nora can come, too, if she likes," suggested he of the Shoshones."Looks like we would have quite a party. Won't y'u join us, too,Miss Messiter, according to the original plan?" he said, extending anironical invitation.
"I think we had better cut it down to me alone. We'll not burden yourhospitality, sir," said the sheepman.
"No, sir, I'm in on this. Whyfor can't I go?" demanded Jim.
Bannister, the outlaw, eyed him unpleasantly. "Y'u certainly can so faras I am concerned. I owe y'u one, too, Mr. McWilliams. Only if y'u comeof your own free will, as y'u are surely welcome to do, don't holler ify'u're not so welcome to leave whenever y'u take a notion."
"I'll try and look out for that. It's settled, then, that we ridetogether. When do y'u want to start?"
"We can't go any sooner than right now. I hate to take these youngmen from y'u, lady, but, as I said, I'll send them back in good shape.Adios, senorita. Don't forget to whom y'u belong." He swaggered to thedoor and turned, leaning against the jamb with one hand again it. "Iexpect y'u can say those lovey-dov good-byes without my help. I'm goinginto the yard. If y'u want to y'u can plug me in the back through thewindow," he suggested, with a sneer.
"As y'u would us under similar circumstances," retorted his cousin.
"Be with y'u in five minutes," said the foreman.
"Don't hurry. It's a long good-bye y'u're saying," returned his enemyplacidly.
Nora and the young man who belonged to her followed him from the room,leaving Bannister and his hostess alone.
"Shall I ever see you again?" Helen murmured.
"I think so," the sheepman answered. "The truth is that this opportunityfalls pat. Jim and have been wanting to meet those men who are under mycousin's influence and have a talk with them. There is no questionbut that the gang is disintegrating, and I believe that if we offer tomediate between its members and the Government something might be doneto stop the outrages that have been terrorizing this country. My cousincan't be reached, but I believe the rest of them, or, at least a part,can be induced either to surrender or to flee the country. Anyhow, wewant to try it."
"But the danger?" she breathed.
"Is less than y'u think. Their leader has not anywhere nearly theabsolute power he had a few months ago. They would hardly dare doviolence to a peace envoy."
"Your cousin would. I don't believe he has any scruples."
"We shall keep an eye on him. Both of us will not sleep at the sametime. Y'u may depend on me to bring your foreman safely back to y'u," hesmiled.
"Oh, my foreman!"
"And your foreman's friend," he added. "I have the best of reasons forwanting to return alive. I think y'u know them. They have to do withy'u, Miss Helen."
It had come at last, but, womanlike, she evaded the issue her heart hadsought. "Yes, I know. You think it would not be fair to throw away yourlife in this foolish manner after I have saved it for you--how manytimes was it you said?" The blue eyes lifted with deceptive frankness tothe gray ones.
"No, that isn't my reason. I have a better one than that. I love y'u,girl, more than anything in this world."
"And so you try to prove it to me by running into a trap set for you totake your life. That's a selfish kind of love, isn't it? Or it would beif I loved you."
"Do y'u love me, Helen?"
"Why should I tell you, since you don't love me enough to give up thisquixotic madness?"
"Don't y'u see, dear, I can't give it up?"
"I see you won't. You care more for your
pride than for me."
"No, it isn't that. I've got to go. It isn't that I want to leave y'u,God knows. But I've given my word, and I must keep it. Do y'u want meto be a quitter, and y'u so game yourself? Do y'u want it to go all overthis cattle country that I gave my word and took it back because I lostmy nerve?"
"The boy that takes a dare isn't a hero, is he! There's a higher couragethat refuses to be drawn into such foolishness, that doesn't give way tothe jeers of the empty headed."
"I don't think that is a parallel case. I'm sorry, we can't see thisalike, but I've got to go ahead the way that seems to me right."
"You're going to leave me, then, to go with that man?"
"Yes, if that's the way y'u have to put it." He looked at hersorrowfully, and added gently: "I thought you would see it. I thoughtsure you would."
But she could not bear that he should leave her so, and she cried outafter him. "Oh, I see it. I know you must go; but I can't bear it." Herhead buried itself in his coat. "It isn't right--it isn't a--a squaredeal that you should go away now, the very minute you belong to me."
A happy smile shone in his eyes. "I belong to you, do I? That's goodhearing, girl o' mine." His arm went round her and he stroked the blackhead softly. "I'll not be gone long, dear. Don't y'u worry about me.I'll be back with y'u soon; just as soon as I have finished this pieceof work I have to do."
"But if you should get--if anything should happen to you?"
"Nothing is going to happen to me. There is a special providence looksafter lovers, y'u know."
"Be careful, Ned, of yourself. For my sake, dear."
"I'll dry my socks every time I get my feet wet for fear of takingcold," he laughed.
"But you will, won't you?"
"I'll be very careful, Helen," he promised more gravely.
Even then she could hardly let him go, clinging to him with a reluctanceto separate that was a new experience to her independent, vigorousyouth. In the end he unloosened her arm, kissed her once, and hurriedout of the room. In the hallway he met McWilliams, also hurryin out froma tearful farewell on the part of Nora.
Bannister, the outlaw, already mounted, was waiting for them. "Y'u didget through at last," he drawled insolently. "Well, if y'u'll kindly giveorders to your seven-foot dwarf to point the Winchester another way I'llcollect my men an we'll be moving."
For, though the outlaw had left his men in command of the ranch when hewent into the house, he found the situation reversed on his return.With the arrival of reinforcements, in the persons of McWilliams and hisfriend, it had been the turn of the raiders to turn over their weapons.
"All right, Denver," nodded the foreman.
The outlaw chief whistled for his men, and with their guests they rodeinto the silent, desert night.
Wyoming: A Story of the Outdoor West Page 20
