Sudden Makes War

"Yeah, I remember; it was you who found the murdered man on the Cloudy trail--the man who had neither money nor papers on him, not even a letter addressed to someone else, huh?"

The sheriff's gaze shifted uneasily. "That's so; the fella what downed him took everythin'."

"I don't doubt it." Again the implication passed unobserved. "A month or two later you were elected by a small margin, one provided--so some folks said--by the Wagon-wheel outfit because you had done Trenton a considerable service."

"What are you drivin' at?" Foxwell cried, his face crimson.

"Lies, Sheriff, big, fat lies like I was tellin' you about," Dan retorted, and then, "God Almighty!"

They were standing a few yards from the Parlour Saloon. On the opposite sidewalk, Miss Trenton had apparently made up her mind to brave the terrors of the rutted and hoof-torn strip which was Rainbow's only thoroughfare; just past this point, the street took one of its uncertain turns. She was halfway across when, with a stertorous bellow, six wild steers, enveloped in a cloud of dust, charged down upon her. The girl saw the cruel branching horns, fierce eyes, and lolling tongues, and made a despairing effort to hurry. But this only led to disaster; her feet slipped in the powdery sand and she fell to her knees right in the path of the infuriated animals, behind whom now appeared a perspiring horseman, shouting and gesticulating.

Leaving the pop-eyed sheriff, Dover sprinted along the sidewalk, dragged out his revolver, and fired at the leader, a little in front of the herd. The brute hesitated, stumbled and went down, only a yard from where the girl lay. The fall of the foremost halted the others, but Dan knew it would be only momentary. Jumping into the road, he floundered to the spot, and raised the now senseless form. A man on foot has no terrors for range cattle, and the sight of him put them inmotion again. By a superhuman effort, he regained the sidewalk with his burden; a grazed arm and a ripped shirtsleeve from a slashing, needle-pointed horn was the only damage.

"Close work, boy," Bowdyr said. He had come out to see what the noise was about. "Bring her into my place."

"Ain't hurt, is she?" the sheriff enquired anxiously.

"I guess not." Dan replied. "If you wanta do Zeb another service, go an' ask that butcher's lout what he means by bringin' cows through the town an' drivin' 'em into a frenzy with his fool yellin'; must be mad or drunk." He caught the saloon-keeper's enigmatic expression, and added, "Might 'a' killed the pair of us." The sheriff went; he did not enjoy the company of Mister Dover in this mood.

When Miss Trenton returned to the world again, she was sitting in a strange room, with a rugged but kindly-faced man bending over her, glass in hand.

"Drink this, ma'am," he said. "It's good stuff, an' will put new life into you.

She obeyed, and the strong spirit--though it made her cough--sent the blood racing through her veins. She looked curiously at her surroundings.

"What place is this?" she asked.

"The Parlour Saloon an' I'm Ben Bowdyr, the proprietor," he explained. "Dan's gone for Doc Malachi, an' to git hisself another shirt."

"Is Mister Dover hurt?"

"Shore, no, just a spoilt garment," Ben assured her. "Ah, here's the Doc."

Malachi hurried in, the concern on his face giving way to relief when he saw the patient. "You are not harmed, Miss Trenton?"

"I foolishly fainted," she replied. "Mister Bowdyr kindly gave me some--medicine, and I am quite well again."

"Medicine?" Malachi echoed. He picked up the glass she had used, sniffed, glanced at the saloon-keeper, who had retired to his bar, and smiled whimsically. "Then Ben has done all that is necessary and robbed me of a case. And from the way Dover carried on, I really thought it was a serious one."

"It would have been but for his courage and prompt action," she said soberly. "He also escaped injury I am told."

"Yes, these cattlemen are tough animals--very discouraging to a doctor," he mourned. "Fortunately they are quarrelsome. But you have made a conquest, Miss Trenton." He saw the colour creep into her cheeks. "That brandy--I should say, medicine--was laid down by Ben's grandfather, 'way back in Virginia, in the days when people of position had cellars, and he wouldn't take fifty dollars a bottle for it."

Her gaze went to the saloon-keeper. "He was most kind," she murmured.

"The first thing I learned out here was not to judge by appearances. Ben is a fine fellow, and one day, when settlements like Rainbow become cities, such men will be sent to Congress, and have a word to say, not only in the affairs of our country, but of the whole world."

"Still your dream," she smiled. "Why, isn't that Yorky?" Malachi stared as the boy came to them. "By all that's wonderful, it is."

"I'm hopin' yer ain't hurt much, ma'am," Yorky said. "I seen it all an' shore t'ought yer was a goner."

"Thanks to Mister Dover, I am not a--goner," she smiled. "And how are you, Yorky?"

"Fine, an' I'm on th' pay-roll," he blurted out. "S'cuse me, I got a message for Ben."

"An amazing improvement," she said. "There's a case to make you proud of your profession."

"Not my work," he told her. "I prescribed a cessation of nicotine poisoning and fresh air--"

"The breath of the pines," she murmured.

"Precisely, but I didn't put it so prettily."

"No, I remember it was his friend, Jim."

"Really? After all, why shouldn't a puncher be poetical--he's at grips with Nature all day long. Anyway, Green saved that lad's life, by supplying the missing ingredient in my treatment." Her look was a question. "Yorky had lost his self-respect, and lacking that, my dear lady, a human being is--finished; he cannot fight disease." Then, in a flash, his gravity was merged in a laugh, as he added, "I should be a preacher."

She was about to reply when Dover came in, and before the door swung to again, she saw Miss Maitland pass.

"I must be going," Malachi said rather hurriedly, and ashe departed spoke in an undertone to the rancher, "Not leaving town yet, are you?"

"I'll be here for a while," Dan replied, and stepped to where the girl was seated. "Doc tells me you ain't injured. I'm glad. Is there anythin' else I can do?"

His manner was stiff and distant, and she suddenly comprehended that the red-haired youth who so impulsively rushed to rescue her from the quicksand had--short as the time was--become a man. Grief and responsibility had brought about the transformation.

"I think you have done enough, and more," she replied. "It is hard to find words to express my thanks."

"Then don't try," he said bluntly. "I don't want 'em, an' if it will ease yore mind, I would 'a' done just the same for any tramp in the town."

"Very well, but you cannot prevent me feeling grateful," she said. "you risked your life."

"Which is no more than I've done many times for one o' my father's steers," he told her. "I'm not meanin' to be rude, Miss Trenton, but to be forced to help one o' yore family is plain hell to me."

"I understand," she said coldly. "But you must remember that to be forced to accept your help is also plain hell to my family."

With a slight inclination of her proud little head, and a smile of thanks to the saloon-keeper, she walked out. The rancher's gloomy gaze followed her. What had possessed him to speak that way? He recalled how his heart had seemed to stop beating when he saw her in the path of the cattle. Perhaps it was the reaction at finding her unharmed when he had feared . Or maybe it was the encounter with the sheriff, which still rankled? Well, what did it matter--she was a Trenton anyway. He went to the bar, and Bowdyr's first remark might have been an answer to his last thought.

"She's a fine gal--even if she is kin to Zeb," he said.

"Looks ain't much to go on," the young man observed cynically. "The meanest hoss I ever owned was a picture."

The saloon-keeper, being a wise man, kept his smile and his thoughts to himself. Malachi, returning presently, found them drinking together, and to the surprise of both, declined their invitation.

"How's the arm?" he enquired.

"Fine, it was just a touch."

"Yes, touch and go; if you'd been two seconds later the horn would have pierced your heart," the doctor said. "I didn't tell Miss Trenton that."

"I'm obliged--she's over-grateful a'ready. You ain't here to ask after my health, are you, Phil?"

"No, my errand concerns my own. When are you going away?"

"So you've heard that damn silly rumour too?"

"I pay no attention to idle chatter, and get it into your head that I'm on your side," Malachi said seriously. "Listen: I happen to know--never mind how--that you have to raise a large sum of money in a short time."

Dan swore. "So my financial position is common property?" he said bitterly.

"Whose isn't, in this place?" was the rejoinder. "Where are you going for it? With the cattle business as it is, your chance with the Eastern capitalist is nil; north and south are only ranches in the same predicament as yourself; in the west, there is Rufe's Cache--if you can find it."

"What do you know about that?" Dan demanded.

"The story is common property also," the doctor reminded. "Your father himself gave me the facts, and asserted that if necessity arose, he could go to the spot. Probably that is why he did not worry about his debt to the bank."

Dan was silent; it was disturbing to think his affairs and plans were known. Then he said, "Who told you I was leavin' Rainbow?"

"No one. Aware of the difficulty you are in, I tried to reason out a line of action, that's all. The Cache would appear to be your best bet."

"What's yore interest?"

"The purely selfish one of wanting to go with you."

Bowdyr had been called away, so Dover got the full shock of the surprise, and it certainly was one. That this man, whom he liked, but had always regarded as an effeminate, should desire to undergo the danger and discomfort of a journey into the mountains seemed quite incredible.

"It'll be damned hard goin', we'll have to break trail a lot, live rough an' sleep in the open, an' it's cold too, nights," he warned. "Also, there's a risk o' fightin' if--

"Trenton gets the idea. Yes, he needs cash as much, and perhaps more, than you do. Well, I can ride and shoot, I'm fitter than I look, and I'll obey orders. Also, if anyone gets hurt ..." The rancher voiced his last and chief objection. "You'll be a devil of a long way from a saloon," he said pointedly.

"Which is exactly why I want to come," Malachi smiled. "It is an experiment, Dan, and I'm asking you to help me." They shook hands on the bargain.

Chapter XIII

Beth Trenton returned to the Wagon-wheel sound in body but perturbed in mind. Naturally generous by nature, the attitude her rescuer had adopted distressed and saddened her. Coming from the East, she could not comprehend the stark animosity which could keep two families at war for years. And rude, primitive as he seemed, there was much that was likeable in Dan Dover. If only she could bring about a peace.

Her uncle was alone in the living-room. As she related her adventure, she saw concern, relief, and then both were swept away in a gust of anger at the mention of her preserver's name.

"That fella again?" he stormed. "What cursed ill-luck arranges for him to be handy every time you get into trouble?"

"I am afraid I cannot regard it as ill-luck," she replied. "He saved me, and might have died himself."

"Bah! Only one thing kills that breed--a bullet," was the brutal rejoinder. "I'm not ungrateful, girl; any other man could ask what he liked of me, but Dover ..."

"He does not want even thanks," she said. "He threw my own back in my face."

"The insolent young hound," Trenton growled. "He needs a lesson, an' by Christopher, I'll see that he gets one."

"Uncle, what was the beginning of the trouble?" she asked.

"Oh, it's a long story; I'll spin it for you one day, but you can take this to go on with--a Dover murdered my father," the rancher said, and stood up. "Yo're a Trenton, Beth, an' our enemies must be yores too; we don't forget or forgive."

He had meant to tell her of the coming trip into the hills, but judged this was not the time; better to let the memory of this latest obligation to Dover fade a little. Women were kittle cattle, and he wanted her wholly on his side. He struck another blow.

"Have you noticed Bundy's face?"

"Why, yes, he seems to have met with an accident."

"Yeah, the accident of runnin' into three o' the Circle Dot riders out on the range," Trenton said. "They threw an' savaged him, stole his horse, an' he had to foot it home, over ten miles, in the dark."

"Three to one?" she cried. "The cowards! Was Mister Dover there?"

"No, but his new man, Green, was, so you can be certain his boss approved; probably it was a put-up job, an' they were waitin' for the chance."

"But why?"

"Simply because he's foreman here; it's a blow at me." She could not doubt, although she found it hard to credit that Green, of whom the doctor had spoken highly, could take part in such a sordid enterprise. But she was learning that the Westerner was a creature of fine impulses, strong in his likes and dislikes.

"Isn't there any law?" she ventured.

"No, only a sheriff," was the satirical answer. "Now, don't you worry yourself about these things, my dear. Bundy can take care of himself, an' so can the Wagon-wheel."

Dover also journeyed home in a worried state of mind. He had called on Maitland before leaving town, and the interview had been anything but helpful. It was, the rancher moodily reflected, a fitting climax to a thoroughly imperfect day. So Yorky, to whom it had proved exactly the opposite, found him a morose and pre-occupied companion. Jocular references to his encounter with young Evans met with no encouragement. In the bunkhouse, it was much the same;the boys listened to his story, but it failed to arouse the amusement he had looked for.

"Got back on him for the lickin' he gave you, huh?" Blister commented.

"Never did lick me," Yorky retorted heatedly. "He took as much as I did."

"Then you had nothin' to square up for," the cowboy replied.

Even Yorky's quick wits could find no answer to this, and he subsided into silence. It began to dawn upon him that he had not been so clever after all. This suspicion was strengthened when he showed his new acquisition to Sudden, with an account of how he had got it.

"She's good value," the puncher said. "Told the boys?"

"yep, they didn't seem to think it funny," Yorky admitted, and repeated Blister's remarks.

"They were right--it ain't a bit funny," Sudden said gravely. "Yu fought Evans, an' come out even. Well, nothin' to that, but now yu've put yoreself in his debt by shamin' him, probably made him hate his job. That's bad."

"Never thought of it that way, Jim," the boy said contritely. "What c'n I do?"

"Next time yo're in town, go to Evans an' eat dirt," the puncher said. "That's a meal we all gotta be ready to take, an' if it gets yu a friend, it's worth while."

The boy promised. He had learned another lesson.

Not until the evening meal was ended did Dan unburden his mind to Sudden and the foreman. They had already heard of the cattle incident--Yorky having given a graphic and highly-ornamented version of it to the company in the bunkhouse.

"So you had to git a Trenton outa trouble agin, Dan," Burke remarked. "That girl didn't oughta be allowed out alone."

"It wasn't her fault," the young man found himself saying, and then, "We got somethin' more important than that to discuss. Maitland is beginning to put the screw on--he won't even let me have cash for runnin' expenses. There's tradesmen in town to be settled with, an' pay-day comin' along."

"The boys won't mind waitin'," Burke put in gruffly.

"I know, Bill, an' that's why I don't want 'em to," Dan said. "I've an offer for a hundred three-year-olds; the buyer will take over an' pay at the Bend. It's a poor price, an' will mean hangin' up our start for two-three days, but--"

"Needs must, when the banker goes on the prod," Sudden misquoted.

"You said it," Dan replied with a smile, the first they had seen from him all the evening. "Well, that eases my mind. I wouldn't like to go leavin' debts to folks who can't afford to lose, an' Bill here without a shot in the locker. An' talkin' of goin', Doc Malachi wants to come along; I said he might."

The foreman looked dubious. "Does he understand what he's lettin' hisself in for?"

"I made that plain," Dan replied, and repeated the conversation, finishing with, "He might be useful."

"Shore, but how come he knows we're in a jam?" Burke asked.

"He wouldn't say, but I can guess. He's been seein' a lot o' Maitland's girl since the dance, an' she helps in the bank. Her father trusts her--he told me as much."

"That explains the 'experiment' too," Sudden smiled. "I hope he wins out on it. What about hittin' the hay--we got a coupla busy days to shove behind us?"

With the coming of daylight, they were at work, rounding up, cutting out, and road-branding the steers to be disposed of. Small as the herd was, these operations took time and entailed much riding, for the cattle were spread over a wide range. About half a mile from the ranch-house, a big bunch of steers was collected by four of the outfit, and from these Dover and Sudden roped the selected beasts, dragged them to the nearby fire, where Lidgett hog-tied them and Slow applied the iron.

The bellowing of the branded brutes, blinding sun, swirling clouds of dust, acrid smell of burnt hair, and the varied objurgations of the toilers, who sweated and swore with equal fervour, presented a scene of confusion from which it seemed impossible for order to emerge. By the arrival of dusk, however, the herd was ready to take the trail, and the discarded cattle dispersed again. The boys raced for the river, to rid themselves of the real estate they had acquired during the day. When they arrived at the bunkhouse, Paddy affected astonishment.

"Shure, Dan should 'a' told me he was takin' on new han's," he said.

"Gwan, you of grub-spoiler," Slow retorted. "Hump yore-self. I'm hungry enough to eat you--raw--if I had a ton o' salt."

"An' it's on'y a mouthful I'd be for ye," the Irishman grinned, and Slow, whose mouth was built on generous lines, retired from the combat.

At daybreak the herd was on the move, Dover in charge, with Blister, Tiny, Noisy, and Sudden as his crew.

"They're in prime condition an' the trail ain't difficult," the ranoher said. "If we drive 'em middlin' hard we oughta make the Bend before dark to-morrow. Me an' Tiny'll be in front, Noisy an' Blister on the flanks, an' Jim'll keep the 'drag' goin'." Very soon the riders had the steers lined out, and travelling at a steady pace. Cattle on the trail can, in normal circumstances, cover from fifteen to twenty miles a day, according to the nature of the country. Dan was hoping to do better than this on a short drive, but he was too good a cowman to "tucker out" the animals by pressing them too early.

The hours slid by, and the drive proceeded uneventfully. Now and then an adventurous beast dropped out of line and made a break for freedom, to be chased, brought back, and called uncomplimentary things by a sweating rider. Sudden, in the rear, was kept busy hazing the few stragglers always to be found in any trail-herd.

The approach of night found them on a plateau some miles in extent and nearly half-way to their destination. As the feed was good, and a stream adjacent, Dan decided to halt there. The tired cattle were watered, bunched together, and the rancher, with Noisy, took the first spell of night-herding. The other three squatted round a fire, and having fed, smoked and talked. In the distance, where a black blob showed indistinctly in the half-light, they could hear the watchers crooning to their charges.

"Dan's a fine fella, but as an opery singer he'd shore be a total loss," Blister laughed. "Cows can't have no ear for music, or you couldn't soothe 'em down with a voice that'd scare a kid into convulsions."

"They sleep to git away from it," Tiny explained. "That's why I'm a pore night-herder--the critters stay awake to listen to me."

"That won't win you nothin'--you take yore turn," Blister chuckled. "Fancy tryin' that one; you got about as much savvy as a mule."

Before the outraged cowboy could reply to this aspersion, Sudden cut in: "An' there, though he ain't intendin' it, he's payin' yu a compliment, Tiny. Lemme tell yu somethin' I actually witnessed. An' of darkie was drivin' a buckboard behind a big, hammer-headed mule with ears like wings. All at once, the beast stalled on him, just stiffened his legs and stood stock-still like he'd taken root. Well, the nigger tried persuasion first; he got down an' talked.

" `Now looky, Abram, dis ain't no way to act. Ain't I allus treated yoh well? W'at foh yoh wanter play dis trick on Uncle Eph?'

"He said a lot more, but it didn't do any good; Abram just curled his lips back over his teeth an' laughed at him. So the darkie goes to pullin' him, then to pushin' the buckboard on his heels, but he might as well have tried to shift a house. Then Uncle Eph got his dander up. He climbs into his wagon, unearths a stout ash-plant, an' lays into that mule like all possessed. Yu ever seen a fella beatin' a carpet what ain't been cleaned for years? Well, that was how it was. I reckon yu could 'a' heard the racket half a mile off, an' the dust came out'n that critter's hide in clouds--it was like a sand-storm. But Abram never stirred an inch, an' when at last the nigger dropped back on his seat too tired to lam any more, that mule lets out a sort o' sound--jeerin' like--which made his master madder'n ever.

" `Light a fire under him,' one o' the onlookers advised.

"This put new life into Uncle Eph. He scouted round in the buckboard, produced wood an' paper, built his fire an' put a match to it. `I burn de damn belly off'n yoh, Abram,' he said viciously, an' when the flames shot up an' the mule stirs hisself, he lets out a yell of triumph. But he was a bit previous; that durned animal moved just fur enough forward to bring the buckboard right over the fire, an' took root again; if Uncle Eph hadn't got mighty active he'd 'a' had nothin' but a fiery chariot to ride in. An' then Abram turns his head an' closesone eye in the most deliberate wink I ever saw. No, sir, don't tell me mules ain't got savvy."

They laughed at the story, and Tiny said, "I remember once--"

But what it was they were not to hear, for from over the plateau came the crash of guns and bellowing of scared steers, followed by the thunder of many hammering hooves. "Hell's joy, the herd is gone,," Blister cried.

Springing to their saddles, they scampered towards the hubbub, dragging out their rifles as they went. Sudden caught sight of a whitish object flapping in the gloom, and took a snap shot. The object vanished, but he did not stay to investigate--the important thing was to stop the stampeding cattle. By hard and, in the dark, hazardous riding, they got ahead of some of the frightened brutes, turned, and drove them back to camp.

"Stay here an' ride hard on this lot, Blister," Sudden said. "We'll go hunt for more."

On their way they met a horseman shepherding about a dozen steers; he proved to be Dover.

"We'd just got 'em settlin' down nicely when the hullabaloo began," he said. "Somebody loosed off a gun, an' another of 'em flapped a sheet or blanket an' shouted. You got some, you say? Good work. Lucky they was tired--ain't liable to run far. yeah, Noisy's all right; he's takin' in a small gather."

Throughout the hours of darkness the search went on, and when dawn arrived, a count showed that they were only ten short.

"Better'n I hoped," Dan said. "We may pick up one or two more on the way."

As they returned to snatch a meal at the fire, a dark, huddled form, lying where the grass was longer, attracted their attention. A dead man, and beside him, a lightish slicker. Sudden remembered his chance shot. He turned the body over; the features were familiar. He visioned again the saloon at Hell City, into which this same Mexican had limped, footsore and weary, come to report failure and risk death at the hands of Satan, the master brigand. He had saved the fellow's life then, and now blind Fate had ordained that he should take it.'

"Couple o' twenty dollar bills with the Rainbow bank's stamp on 'em," Tiny announced. He had been searching the corpse.

"Better take those, Dan; we might be able to trace 'em," Sudden advised. "An' we'll bury this hombre if yu got no objection; I once saw him act mighty like a man--for a Greaser."

The drive was resumed, and as Dover had predicted, they came across several of the runaways, and so could deem themselves well out of what might easily have been a disaster. They saw nothing of their unknown assailants, and as the latter part of the journey was over a regular cattle-track, they reached their destination in good time.

The business of handing over the herd did not take long, and after a satisfying meal they drifted into the Paradise Saloon.

"Remember this joint, Jim?" Dan asked.

Sudden grinned; it was there he and the rancher had adjourned after the shooting test; somehow it seemed a good time ago. Grouped at the bar, they discussed the question of the return trip, whether to start at once, or wait for daybreak. All of them were tired, but as Tiny finally expressed it:

"A bed listens fine to me, Dan, but you on'y gotta say the word an' I'm ready."

"What do you think, Jim?"

Sudden did not reply for a moment; his gaze was on a short, shabby, bearded fellow sitting a few feet away. Then he asked, "Yu acquainted with the landlord o' this shebang, Dan?" And when the young man nodded, "Find out if he knows the whiskery gent just behind yu."

The rancher ordered another round of drinks and, after a whispered colloquy with the proprietor, turned to his friends. "Never set eyes on him afore, but that don't mean much--strangers ain't no novelty in the Bend."

"Mebbe not," Sudden replied, and raising his voice a little, "We'd better be on our way."

The last to leave, he saw--by the aid of a mirror--that the bearded man was also making for the door. Leading his party along the street, he swung round a corner and halted. Almost immediately the object of his suspicion appeared, and seeing the group of cowboys, hesitated and then slunk past.

"He was interested in our conversation, an' now he follows us. What d'yu make o' that, Dan?"

"I'm no good at riddles, Jim. You tell me."

"Those coyotes back on the trail missed the beef, but if they knowed when to expect us, they might try for the dollars."

"Likely enough, an' that hombre would have plenty time to get here ahead o' us," Dover admitted. "What's our best plan?"

"With that fella trailin' us we got no hope o' trickin' 'em. I vote we catch some sleep an' start in the mornin'," was Sudden's suggestion. "If they waylay us, we'll stand a better chance in the daylight."

The others agreed that this was the wisest course, and being already short of one night's rest, they gave the attractions of the town the go-by, and turned in early.

There was no sign of the bearded man when they set off soon after daybreak, but none of them doubted his being in the vicinity. Sudden only grinned when Tiny mentioned it. One precaution was taken: Dover called Sudden aside and slipped a packet into his hand; it was the money received for the cattle.

"You got the fastest hoss in the bunch," he said. "If things get tight, make a dash for it."

"Unless they're watchin' the trail, we'll have no trouble."

"They may be, or it's possible that jasper has gone on a'ready to tell 'em we're comin'."

"He ain't," Sudden chuckled. "Over-keen, Mister Whiskers. He took the room next to mine, an' when I found my key would open his door, I slipped in, hawg-tied an' gagged him, in' told the landlord my neighbour wanted to sleep late."

Dover laughed. "Gosh, Jim, you don't miss any bets," he complimented. "I'm damn glad you didn't go over to Trenton."

"Well, that settles Whiskers, but we still gotta remember that the others may be the patient kind."

The three cowboys had to be told, and they looked at Sudden with added respect. Blister's tribute amused them all.

"Jim," he said gravely. "One o' these days you an me won't have a game o' poker."

"Blister," was the solemn reply. "When it comes to cards. yu wouldn't believe how dumb I am."

"Yo're dead right, I wouldn't," Blister agreed.

Having no herd to hamper them, a good pace could be maintained. Sudden led the party, and Dan brought up the rear, each man riding a little behind the next so that all of them could not be covered at once. The first score of miles were negotiated without incident, and then they drew near to where the stampede had happened. The sun was climbing the sky, and in the growing heat they did not hasten; it was necessary to spare the horses in case speed should be urgently needed.

East of the plateau, as Sudden remembered, the trail traversed a shallow gully, both walls of which were hedged by thick brush. Immediately on entering this, he slackened pace still more, eyes alert. Half-way through the sun glinted on something in the depths of a bush; it was the barrel of a rifle, and directly opposite was another.

"Shove 'em up," barked a voice. "We got you set--both sides."

Sudden's reins were already twisted round the saddle-hornhis knees told the horse what to do. When, in apparent obedience to the order, his hands rose, a gun was in each, spouting flame and lead. Left and right, the shots crashed, the rifle-barrels disappeared--one exploding harmlessly--and there was a sound of breaking twigs and violent movement in the veil of vegetation. At the same instant, the black sprang onward, a few mighty bounds carrying it clear of the gully. The rest of the party followed, bending low and raking the brush with their revolvers. Scattered, ill-aimed replies came from the ambushers. When he had ridden about a mile, Sudden waited for his companions.

"Anybody hurt?" he wanted to know. "What's the matter with yu, Noisy?"

"Ain't nothin'," the silent one replied. "Just a graze."

"We'll tie it up," the puncher said. "I figure them fellas have had a full meal."

The "graze" proved to be a nasty flesh-wound in the forearm, and when this had been attended to they went on their way. Blister and Tiny, riding together, discussed the occurrence.

"I never see his han's move, but both guns was out an' workin'. I'll bet he got both them smarties," the big cowboy remarked.

"Smart nothin'--a pair o' bunglers," said a quiet voice behind. "Lemme give yu a tip, Tiny; next time yu go bushwhackin', don't show yore gun; the slant o' the barrel tells the other fella where to aim."

"Speakin' from experience, Jim?" Tiny came back. "Shore," Sudden grinned. "I was a road-agent afore I came down in the world an' had to take to punchin'."

In due course they reached the Circle Dot, and once more the bunkhouse had a story to hear. Blister told it, finishing in characteristic fashion:

"An' after the ruckus, the on'y trouble we had was listenin' to Noisy yowlin' like a sick cat over that triflin' scratch he got."

"Turn anythin' Blister sez the other way round an' yo're liable to git the truth," the wounded man replied, a statement which evoked a general chorus of "Yo're tellin' us."

Chapter XIV

Miss Maitland and Malachi had walked as far as the cemetery. It was, as he had told Miss Trenton, a pretty place, though the oblong mounds of stones--several with staggering, homemade wooden crosses--did not add to its beauty. The customary bitter expression was absent from the man's clever face.

"They all seem to be nameless," the girl commented.

"Rainbow has no monumental mason yet," he told her, and pointed to the most recent heap. "That is the resting-place of Dave Dover, who was kind to every living thing--except an enemy." A touch of his old sarcastic humour returned. "Yet, if any other citizen had brought you here, the grave he would have shown with pride would have been that of a scoundrel who killed seven people--and he wasn't a doctor. The town hanged him, most justly; he was a fool--he should have taken a degree before indulging his appetite for blood."

She did not smile. "I don't like to hear you' joke about. your profession," she said. "Great soldiers, who use their lives to take life, are honoured, but a doctor, who devotes himself to saving life receives--what?"

"All that every human being wins in the end--that," he said flippantly, and pointed to the nearest grave.

"You are not yourself to-day," she reproved.

"That's the trouble--I am," he replied cynically. "Forgive me, Miss Maitland; I sometimes talk, and act, like an idiot. What I really wanted to tell you was that I am going away."

The colour came into her cheeks and receded; she had suddenly realized what this man's absence would mean. It had begun in pity on her part for one who, still young and talented, was leading an aimless, sordid existence. A bed in a shabby hotel, meals at an eating-house, and many hours of every day in saloons; the tragedy of it shocked her. And now ... She tried to speak casually:

"Are you going for good?"

"For my own good, I hope," he smiled. "Would it matter?"

"I have not so many friends," she told him, and there was a note in her voice which brought a gleam into his eyes.

"I expect to be away only some two or three weeks," he said. "Where, when, and why, I am not at liberty to tell even you. The town--if it troubles to ask--will be informed that I have gone East, and supply its own reason--a debauch."

"But--you have been--"

"Abstemious lately? Precisely, and therefore the wiseacres will argue that a breaking-out was inevitable." He saw the fear in her glance. "No, it isn't that; if it were, I would stay here and be damned to them."

She smiled again; this was the old Malachi, reckless, contemptuous, but likeable. They spoke only of trivialities on the way to Rainbow, but when parting, Malachi said, "You will be glad when I return, Kate?"

"Yes--Philip," she replied.

"That is all I need to know," he murmured. "I shall come back--sane."

The same evening, the doctor visited the Parlour Saloon, as usual, but drank nothing. He left early, and some time later rapped at the door of the Cirole Dot ranch-house. Dover opened it, and conducted the visitor to the front room, where the rest of the party to go into the hills were assembled. Burke was also present, having taken his final instructions from theowner. After greetings had been exchanged, the doctor said: "I enquired about those two twenties, Dan; they were paid by the bank to Trenton a week ago, but they could have changed hands more than once, so it doesn't prove much."

"Mebbe it don't, but it shore looks like he'd got news of our drive an' hired some scallawags to bust it," the rancher replied. "That's my view, an' I'm holdin' it till I know different."

"He wouldn't risk usin' his own men," Burke contributed. "I'm obliged, Doc. Got all you need in the way o' gear?" Dan went on, and receiving an affirmative nod, reached a bottle from a cupboard. "We'll have just one li'l drink to success--it's the last liquor we'll see till we reach town again."

"Leave me out, Dan," Malachi said quietly.

"Me too; I don't use it," Yorky echoed.

They all laughed at this, save Hunch, sitting in one corner, a big revolver thrust through his belt, and the great axe between his knees. He took the spirit handed to him, tipped it down his throat with a single gesture, and replaced the glass on the table. The action was that of an automaton, no expression showed in the blank face. The doctor was studying him curiously. Dover looked at the tall old grandfather clock.

"Gone midnight, Bill," he said. "Might as well be on the move."

One by one they stole out, secured their mounts, and with Hunch astride a huge rawboned bay as guide, and Blister, leading a pack-horse loaded with supplies, bringing up the rear, they were swiftly merged in the murk. Silence reigned, but for the far-off cry of a questing coyote, and the plaintive hoot of an owl in trees they could not see. There was no moon, but the velvet sky was pricked with a myriad pin-points of light which only seemed to make the obscurity more profound. They moved slowly but surely, the leader appearing to know his way despite the darkness. So far, all had gone well.

But no one of them had seen the lurking man in the shadow of the corral, who, having watched their departure, ran to his hidden horse, and stooping low over its neck, followed them. The first news they had of him came as a finger of flame and the crack of a rifle. Blister reeled and would have fallen but for the quick clutch of the rider next him, Tiny. Sliding to the ground, the big cowboy lifted the hurt man down and laid him on the turf. Sudden raced in the direction from which the shot appeared to have come; nothing was to be seen, but he could hear the diminishing beat of hooves.

"On'y one of 'em," he muttered, and returned to his friends.

Malachi, by the light of an improvised torch, was making an exclamation. "Bullet struck the thigh and went through," he said. "Nice clean wound, but it will keep you on your back for some weeks, my lad. Give me some water." A canteen provided this, and he washed and deftly bandaged the injury. "He'll have to go back to the ranch."

"Shore, one of us will take him," Dover agreed.

"Aw, Boss, there ain't no need," Blister protested. "Doe's fixed my pin fine, an' I can make it; I ain't no kid. It's just too bad, missin' the trip, damn the luck."

"I'll go tuck him in his li'l cot, an' catch you up," Tiny offered.--

"You won't know the way, an' if that snipin' houn' has gone to wise up the Wagon-wheel, we can't afford to wait," the rancher said perplexedly.

"I don't want no nussin', specially from a ham-handed freak," Blister declared. "Lift me into the saddle an' Paddy will be loadin' steak an' fried into me in less'n an hour."

Tiny obeyed, adding solicitously, "Rest all yore weight on the sound leg."

"Awright, Solomon. Which rein do I pull if I wanta go left?"

"Neither of 'em; you just naturally jump off, pick the hoss up an' point him that way. Gwan--an' take care o' yoreself," Tiny chuckled.

They watched him start, sitting straight up, but they could not see the lean brown hands clutching the saddle-horn, nor the clamped teeth as the throbbing pain of a damaged limb increased with every movement of his mount. Dan was anxious.

"Think he'll be all right, Phil?" he asked. "I'd sooner lose the damn ranch than anythin' should happen to Blister."

"He'll get there," Malachi said confidently. "He's got grit, that boy." And added, under his breath, "He makes me ashamed."

Zeb Trenton was awakened early by the announcement thata visitor was waiting to see him on urgent business. Going down to his office, he found Garstone, Bundy, and the bearded man from the Bend, whom he greeted with a frown.

"Well, Lake, you've been long enough comin' to report," he said aggressively.

"I'd nothin' but bad news to bring," was the sullen answer. "So you failed?"

"You can call it that. We stampeded the herd awright, but the beasts were too tired to run far or scatter enough. The punchers rounded 'em up again, an' they got one of us*Benito."

Trenton shrugged impatiently--the passing from life of a Greaser was of little moment to him. "Well?" he snapped.

"Havin' lost the cattle, we decided to try for the money on the back trip," Lake proceeded. "I went on to the Bend, figurin' to shadow Dover an' give the boys word. It didn't work out thataway." He paused for a second or two, and then, in a voice which dripped venom, he told of the trick Sudden had played on him, and the subsequent abortive ambush. "Two of our chaps was crippled, an' by the bastard who tied me up, a prisoner in a damned hotel bedroom for half a day--tall black-haired cowpunch, with a coupla guns. I'm a prompt payer, an' I meant to git that hombre, so I goes to the Circle Dot an' lays for a chance."

"Don't tell me you downed him," Bundy said. "He's my meat."

"He's still yores--if I don't see him first," Lake replied. "I didn't have an openin'--too many others around, but just after midnight I got on to somethin' I figured might interest you: Dover an' six more, with a pack animal, sneaked away from the ranch-house an' headed for the Cloudy country. I follered, an' sent 'em a slug for luck; nailed one, for shore, but I'll bet it warn't the perisher I was after."

The effect of his news was electrical. Trenton's face grew purple, as he rose to his feet and stamped with rage. "Blast them, they've diddled us an' got a start," he cried. "You any good at trailin', Lake?"

"I can read sign better'n most," was the modest answer. "We'll take you with us; you'll be well paid, an' have an opportunity of wipin' out your score against Green. Is every thin' ready, Bundy? Right, we set out as soon as we've eaten."

In less than two hours they were on their way. Avoiding Rainbow, they cut across the wagon-road leading to the Circle Dot, forded the river, and rode in the direction of Dover's western boundary. Presently they came to the spot where Lake had ceased his spying. It was daylight now, and the marks of a group of horses were easy to find. Lake pointed exultantly to some burnt-out matches, and a smear of blood on the grass.

"Told you I got one," he cried. His eyes swept the ground. "On'y winged him, seemin'ly--they sent him back. Well, that's one less to deal with."

Trenton asked a question. "We'll catch 'em whenever you say," was the confident reply.

"We don't want to," the rancher warned. "An' it is important that they shouldn't know we're followin' them."

"I get you; tailin" 'em will be just too easy," the fellow sneered. "These cow-thumpers don't know nothin' 'bout hidin' tracks."

There he was wrong, for one of the despised "cowthumpers"--to which class he himself once belonged and disgraced--had the redskin's skill in detecting or concealing a trail. Sudden's childhood had been spent with an old Piute horse-dealer, who, in his sober hours, taught him the craft of his race. The puncher had never forgotten that early upbringing which, on more than one occasion, had stood him in good stead.

A mile or so later, the leader halted, and when Trenton wanted the reason, had to admit that the tracks had ceased on the edge of a small stream. Obviously the quarry had taken to the water.

"No call for that if they don't know we're follerin'," Lake grumbled.

"O' course they know," Bundy said. "You told 'em yoreself when you fired that fool shot." He did not approve of the man's inclusion in the party.

"How the devil was I to guess what was afoot?" Lake threw back.

A search of the banks of the stream in both directions resulted in the trail being again picked up, but not until considerable time had been consumed. A recurrence of these delays atfrequent intervals soon showed that they were not accidental. and drew another caustic comment from the foreman.

"I'd say there's a cow-thumper ahead who's smarter at blindin' tracks than you are at findin' 'em," he jeered. "Is there anythin' yo're good at?"

The little man glared at him through reptilian, half-lidded eyes. "Yeah, killin' vermin," he said quietly.

Garstone had early attached himself to Miss Trenton, and if he admired the trim figure in its neat riding-suit, the skirt reaching only to the tops of her high boots with their dainty silver-spurred heels, and the soft grey hat above the ebon curls, she too could not but admit that he looked well on horseback. As usual, he was carefully dressed: his cord breeches, top boots, loose coat, and soft silk shirt and tie, lent him distinction among the roughly-garbed others of her escort. She was full of curiosity about the expedition, for her uncle had told her little.

"Why do we have to wait about like this?" she asked, while the trail was being found again. "I understood it was to be just a pleasure trip."

"Business and pleasure, especially the latter, for me," Gar-stone smiled. "The fact is, Miss Trenton--and I tell you this in confidence--we are on a treasure hunt."

"Really?" she cried. "But how exciting. "What form does the treasure take?"

"We don't know--gold, money, or jewels, maybe all three. It is reputed to have been hidden somewhere in these hills by an outlaw named Red Rufe."

"What became of him?"

Garstone shrugged. "Who knows? Probably returned to his old haunts for more plunder and got wiped out."

"And Uncle Zeb knows where the treasure is?"

He smiled into her sparkling eyes. "No, it isn't so easy as that; he has certain indications, but it may take time." His tone grew warmer. "I hope it does."

She reddened a little under his ardent gaze. "But why is it necessary to search for tracks; they cannot be Red Rufe's."

"No, others have got wind of our enterprise and stolen a march upon us; we want to know where they are bound for. You see, success means everything to your uncle. Cattlemen 1,1 have had a lean time for several years, and he is heavily in debt."

"Poor Uncle Zeb," she said. "I always thought him wealthy."

"Most people think so--he has his pride," Garstone returned. "I have a great regard for him, and after the fine fight he has put up against overwhelming odds, it will be too terrible if he should lose the Wagon-wheel."

"Is it as bad as that?"

"Yes," he replied gravely. "And your uncle has ideas for the development of Rainbow; it will break him up if he is not able to carry them out. He doesn't talk of these things, but I am in his confidence."

"Who are the others you spoke of?"

"Who but the Circle Dot? Dover would sell his soul to see your uncle ruined," came the bitter reply.

She did not doubt it; Dan had shown his animosity plainly enough. "We must find that treasure," she said.

"We certainly will," he assured her. "I'm prepared to do anything rather than let Zeb go under."

"I'm sure we all feel like that," she agreed.

This being the admission he was waiting for, he dropped the subject, satisfied that he had done a good day's work for his employer, and a better one for himself. Which was as it should be, according to the ethics of Chesney Garstone.

Chapter XV

Sudden was the culprit. He it was who devised those vexatious and time-eating problems which were exercising the wits of the bearded man, and fraying the tempers of his companions. The Circle Dot puncher had little expectations of throwing the pursuers entirely off the trail, but the greater the distance between the parties, the more chance there was of doing so. So, whenever they encountered a rivulet, they splashed along it, either up or down, before crossing; patches of hard ground, which would record no hoof-prints, were traversed diagonally at the widest points, and once the tracks led straight to the edge of a morass and ended, with no turn to right or left.

This apparent miracle was accomplished by patience and the alternate use of blankets, of which each man carried a couple; the first was spread--from the saddle--at right angles from the trail, and the horse led on to it, then the second, and before the animal moved from that, the first again. By this means, Sudden, who took the lead, covered a considerable space without leaving a mark, and the others followed his actions exactly. When they had all reached him, he returned on foot, with a pair of blankets, and brought the pack-horse. The operation took time, but would cost those who followed much more.

"That was a smart ruse, Jim," Malachi complimented, as they went on their way. "Do you think it will baffle them?"

"It's an old Injun caper," the puncher replied. "If Trenton has a real tracker with him, he'll guess it, but they've still to find our trail again."

Soon afterwards they reached the verdure-clad foothills and, plunging into the welcome shade, began a gradual rise. Hunch, jogging steadily along at Sudden's elbow, spoke never a word, but his usually lack-lustre eyes were a little brighter as they neared his beloved forests. Through an occasional break in the trees they caught a glimpse of the distant snow-capped peak of Old Cloudy, thrusting up into the azure sky.

As Dover had warned the doctor, they were breaking their own trail, winding in and out through thick brush, along stony ravines, climbing up-flung ridges of rock, yet making for a definite point. Once or twice, Sudden spoke to the old man, but getting only a gesture for answer, made no further attempt; his Indian training had taught him the value of silence.

Mile after mile they paced on, treading at times a tortuous path through tall timber, in a twilight due to the matted, leafy roof overhead. Frequently they had to turn aside to avoid a prone monarch of the forest, snapped off and thrown down to rot by a greater monarch--King Storm. Only in places where the trees thinned a shaft of sunlight came to tell them it was still day. There was little life in these dim solitudes.

The nearness of night found them on a grassy ledge hemmed in by vegetation, save at the back where a plinth of gaunt, grey stone rose straight up for a hundred feet. Here Sudden called a halt.

"Best camp here, Dan," he said. "There's feed for the hosses an' the smoke of a fire won't show against that bluff.' The beasts were picketed, lest a prowling bear or mountain lion should stampede them. Hunch and Yorky soon had the fire blazing, and the music--to hungry men--of sizzling bacon mingled with the odour of boiling coffee.

"Likin' it, son?" Sudden asked, as Yorky passed him with an armful of dead wood for fuel.

"I'll say I am," was the enthusiastic answer. "Why, Jim, this beats a dance all ter blazes."

During the meal, Sudden asked how they were getting on.

"I reckon we're about half-way, but it's on'y a guess," Dan told him. "What d'you think, Hunch?" He got the invariable nod for reply, and in a lower tone continued, "I believe he came up here with Dad, though he wouldn't know for what purpose; that's one o' the reasons why I fetched him along. How you feelin', Phil?"

"Tired, but never better," Malachi smiled. "A few weeks of this and I'll give up rolling pills to ride for you."

"You could do a lot wuss," Tiny told him. "Plenty o' fresh air, exercise, an' four squares a day, when yo're to home--which ain't offen. What more does a fella want?"

"A stated number o' dollars per month an' time off to throw 'em away, I find," the rancher grinned. "An' let me tell you, when Tiny does miss a meal, he makes up for it at the next. Pleased to have you, Phil, so long as you don't give the boys anythin' to improve their appetites."

Soon afterwards, one by one, they rolled up in their blankets; it had been a long and strenuous day, and their surroundings held out no hope for a less arduous one on the morrow. Only Sudden remained awake, squatting cross-legged by the fire, his Winchester by his side. Though every sense was alert for any sound he could not explain, his mind was on the curious enterprise to which he found himself committed. He fell to considering the men of the other faction. That Trenton was following he had no doubt; the rancher was an astute and unscrupulous man, aggressive and intolerant of opposition. Bundy he dismissed with a gesture of disdain, a common enough rogue, who would commit any crime for sufficientgain. Garstone he had not yet fathomed; one thing seemed certain--he was not the type to serve as jackal to one of the rancher's calibre. What was the fellow doing so far from the East? He could hit upon no satisfactory answer, and presently, when Tiny--rubbing his eyes--came to relieve him, he sought sleep.

At a camp some fifteen miles away, much the same procedure had taken place, save that there were two fires--one for the rancher, his niece, and Garstone, the other for the men. Bundy had protested against this arrangement, but had been curtly ordered to do as he was told. The fires were sufficiently far apart to prevent conversation being overheard, and near one of them stood the small tent in which the girl was to sleep. Despite the fact of their slow progress, Trenton was in high spirits.

"Well, Beth, how does roughing it in the open appeal to you?" he asked.

"Very much indeed--it's so thrilling," she replied. "Do you really think we shall succeed?"

Neither of the men answered until Rattray--who was acting as cook, and serving them--had retired to his own fire, and then Garstone said:

"I told Miss Trenton of our main object in coming here; she is very interested."

"Indeed I am," she agreed eagerly. "But very sorry it should be--necessary."

"That's all right, my dear," Trenton said heartily. "Every man who gets anywhere has to face up to a stiff fight now and then. We'll make the grade."

"To be sure," Garstone supplemented. "That red-headed rascal, Rufe, is going to put us all on the top of the world."

"Had he red hair?" she queried.

"I really don't know," the big man prevaricated. "I presumed it to be the origin of his nickname."

"He might have got that as a killer," Trenton suggested, in a voice which had suddenly lost its geniality. A burst of laughter from the region of the other fire seemed to remind him of something. "Bundy expected to feed with us--he's been gettin' uppity lately. I had to remind him that I'm boss."

"Quite right," Garstone concurred. That the foreman and his employer should not be on the best of terms might well further the nebulous schemes beginning to take shape in his brain. "He appears to have got over his grouch."

"Just as well. People who work for me have to obey, without question."

The Easterner did not subscribe to this sentiment quite so entirely, and said nothing; it sounded too much like a hint to himself. And he felt convinced that the foreman had not forgotten.

In this he was right, for even as the rancher spoke, Bundy was inwardly brooding over what he regarded as an insult, and vowing it should be paid for. Nevertheless, having been driven to "herd with the hands," as he phrased it, he might as well be comfortable, and so devoted himself first of all to smoothing the ruffled plumage of the newcomer.

"Well, Lake, I'm allus ready to own up when I'm wrong, an' I was 'bout you," he commenced. "You shore can read sign; that dodge they tried at the bog would 'a' razzle-dazzled an Injun."

It gave us a lot o' trouble," the tracker said modestly.

"Warn't yore fault; you tumbled to the trick; it was pickin' up the trail agin that cost the time."

The bearded man was not proof against this fulsome flattery. The foreman, he thought, was after all not such a bad chap. So prone are we humans to approve those who approve us.

"Thanks, friend," he said. "But there's one puzzle 'bout this trip I can't find the answer to, an' mebbe you--as foreman--can tell me."

"Give it a name," Bundy replied, pleased in his turn by the use of his title.

"What are we after?"

"Well, I dunno as there's any need to keep it quiet now,"

the foreman said, but lowered his voice. "Treasure, that's what. Mebbe you've heard o' Red Rufe's Cache?"

Lake laughed derisively. "Heard? I've looked for it--like a-many other idjuts. Still, I don't mind wastin' some more time if I'm well paid."

"You didn't know where to go, seemin'ly." This from Rat-tray, a spare-built but wiry cowboy, whose features suggestedthat the first syllable of his name could not possibly be accidental.

"yo're damn right, I didn't, or would I be here?" the other retorted. "But is Trenton any wiser? If he is, why are we moseyin' along on the heels o' them fellas in front?"

He got no answer to his question. Flint and Rattray could not give him one, and Bundy was far too cunning to empty his bag--yet. The appearance of knowing a little more than they would give him a hold over them. So all he said was:

"There's a good reason for that, an' you can gamble on it; Zeb ain't a fool--in some ways."

"I take it we all git shares," the new man said, his eyes agleam with greed.

"Seein' as we're four to two--not countin' the gal--we'll be dumb if we don't," the foreman replied meaningly.

Flint and Rattray nodded their agreement with this view. Lake said, "Pardner, I like you more'n more."

Bundy was satisfied; if the rancher did not treat him fairly, he had a card up his sleeve. Also there was Garstone, who had shown himself quite willing to double-cross his employer in the affair of the train robbery; he provided another card, making three in all, counting Trenton.

"An' if you play 'em properly, Bundy, of scout, yo're on velvet," was the conclusion he came to.

Chapter XVI

Throughout the greater part of the next day, the Circle Dot men pressed steadily on. Though they deemed themselves to be well ahead of possible pursuit, they neglected no opportunity of blinding their trail, and were successful--had they but known it--in straining the vituperative powers of the bearded man to the utmost.

The scenery on all sides was wild and awe-inspiring. Dense masses of pine which defied the sun, thickets of thorny scrub, clumps of bright-flowering bushes, and, from time to time, enormous chunks of rock weighing thousands of tons, "fragments" which had broken away from the mother mass towering in the distance. The slope was slight but definite, and sometimes they advanced across wide, almost level benches of grass and cactus. They skirted deep, wedge-shaped gorges where the side of the mountain appeared to have split open, treading narrow ledges where a slip would have spelt destruction.

Game seemed to be plentiful, quail, squirrels, rabbits, and once they came upon a small herd of deer feeding in a patch of lush grass. For a few seconds the dainty beasts stared in amaze at the unwonted intrusion of their domain, and then, in a flash, were gone. Yorky, fingers itching for his rifle, looked longingly after them.

"Lots o' time for that," Sudden consoled. "Business first, an' there ain't no sense in advertisin' our. whereabouts."

The boy sighed. "I wouldn't know where to aim, anyways."

"Just behind the left shoulder--the heart's there," the puncher told him.

As the climb continued, the trees became smaller and less numerous, a sign that a higher altitude was being reached. Then, when the westering sun was rimming the mountain tops with gold they came to a spot entirely at variance with all they had seen.

It was a shallow basin, perhaps a hundred feet deep at the centre, and less than half a mile in diameter. The sides sloped gently up to the encircling lips of ragged rock. The surface was a grey, powdery sand, and the only vegetation, scattered greasewood and cactus. On all four points of the compass, V-shaped breaks provided openings to the basin. Hunch got down, stepped to Dover's side, and gestured with one hand.

"Is this where you came with Dad?" the young man asked, and getting a nod of assent, went on, "Well, boys, this appears to be the scene of operations."

Right ahead, seeming to loom over them, although many miles distant, was Old Cloudy. Sudden, studying the mountain, saw that the round knobbed top, and wide sloping flanks might well suggest the head, shoulders, and dropping arms of a sitting man, and that viewed from where he stood the basin might--with no great stretch of imagination--be described as a bowl on the knees of this Gargantuan figure behind which the sky was now turning to a blood-red."What d'you think of it, Jim?" Dover asked.

"Seems to fit. What's the next move?"

"We gotta settle which way to go--this is no place to camp." He tilted his hat back and scratched his head reflectively. "West is north," he repeated. "Well, that gap in front of us is west."

"We gotta reckon it as north," Sudden said. "An' north is noon, that is, twelve o'clock. We were told on reaching here, to watch out. Now that might be a warnin', but I figure it's a pointer." His gaze swept round the almost perfect circle of the basin. "S'pose we're lookin' at a mammoth watch-face, with that western break as twelve. Then the one we came in by must be the half after the hour which would be too soon. That means our way is by the opening on the left, which would be three-quarters past."

"Holy cats! I believe you've hit on it, Jim," the rancher cried. "Can we stop 'em followin' us, in case they get so far?"

"I'll 'tend to that. Yu take the boys an' ride in single file till yo're clear o' the basin."

Starting from where the trampled sand plainly showed that a group of horses had paused there, he galloped straight for the gap to the right. Reaching it, he found it to be a little pass with a stony surface which would show no tracks. Returning to the basin, he backed his mount along the line by which he had approached. Repeating this operation twice resulted in a trail apparently made by six riders, the hoof-marks all pointing in the same direction. He then followed his companions, dragging a rolled blanket attached to his rope, and thus obliterated the traces of them all.

Passing out of the basin, he found himself in another narrow gorge, the floor of which consisted of rock detritus, with frequent patches of cactus and coarse grass. The wall on the right was much higher than that on the left, and along the foot of both were bushes; above these, they were bare and inhospitable. Half a mile from the basin, under an overhanging shelf of cliff, camp was being established. There was sufficient feed for the animals, and a few yards away, a rock pool, fed by a trickle from the height above.

During the meal, the puncher explained what he had done. "It may keep 'em outa here fora spell, but I guess they'll try all the outlets in turn, an' we don't have to waste time."

"How about playin' their game--lettin' 'em find the stuff, an' takin' it away from 'em?" Tiny suggested.

"That would mean a fight, an' I'd ruttier avoid that, if possible," Dover replied. "But the money is mine, an' I intend to have it, one way or another."

"We've no actual evidence that anyone is dogging us," the doctor pointed out.

"Shore, but I know Trenton," Dan said grimly. "Dad's death, the searchin' o' the Circle Dot, an' the attempt to scotch our drive to the Bend happened for a purpose. Zeb is comin', an' he'll have some o' the Wagon-wheel scum along."

Therefore they kept watch, and in the early morning, Sudden--relieving the doctor--caught him in the act of re-corking a bottle, which he had been holding near his lips.

"Cure for headache, Doc?" he asked superciliously.

Malachi looked rather shame-faced, and with an effort at bravado, replied, "More often the cause of one, Jim." And then, "God! what weak creatures we are--some of us."

He opened his hand, disclosing a small medicine phial, quite full, as the puncher guessed, of whisky. "You know why I came here," he went on bitterly. "Well, it seemed to me that I was running away from temptation, so I brought temptation with me. I fancied myself strong enough to have the odour of it in my nostrils and resist. I was wrong--it makes me mad for the taste."

"Is that all yu fetched?"

"Yes, and had you not come, it would have gone, and at dawn I should have been sneaking off for Rainbow--to get more."

"No, to lose yoreself an' die in despair," Sudden told him. "Yu never could make it; yu gotta stay."

"You don't realize what it means," Malachi cried. "Have you ever had to combat a craving which, like a devouring flame, possessed your body and mind so utterly that all else in life became of no importance?"

Sudden laughed harshly. "Listen," he said. "Once I was left, tied hand an' foot, in the middle of a desert, by a Mexican guerilla chief, the most inhuman devil I ever met. After usin' nearly all my strength to free myself, I set out to walk endless miles of sand in search o' water. My tongue was swollen-Icouldn't close my mouth, I was near blind with the glare, my body was dried an' scorched till it felt like a red-hot coal, an' if ever a man suffered like a tormented soul in hell, I did. My limbs were lead, an' every movement--agony. What I had to beat, Malachi, warn't thirst, but the desire to lie down, an' die.' That's yore case, man; yu have to fight, not the want o' liquor, but the urge to give in. Now, drop that bottle an' put yore foot on it."

"I can't, Jim; don't ask me," the doctor pleaded.

"Then drink an' be damned," the puncher said roughly, and turned away.

The brutal contemptuous tone had its effect; he had moved. but a yard when there was the tinkle of glass on stone, and the grind of a heel. The doctor had won a victory.

In the early morning, the search of the gorge was begun, any feature which might suggest a hiding-place being carefully examined. The only discovery of any value was a cave, and as it was dry, and large enough to conceal the horses if necessary, they moved the camp there. It proved to be more spacious than they had imagined, with a high vaulted roof from which hung hundreds of stalactites, flashing like spearheads in the leaping flames of the logs. Seated round the fire after a tiring and fruitless day, the adventurers looked about them with some misgiving; in the darkness, the cavern appeared to have no limits.

"If this is Red Rufe's bank he's shore given us a job to tie into," Tiny informed the company, and thereby expressed the thoughts of all.

"We'll give the outside another look-over before we tackle this," Dan replied.

"Looks a likely spot, till yu get inside, an' then it don't," was Sudden's contribution.

Malachi took no part in the conversation and ate almost nothing. He seemed to be ill and depressed, evidently suffering from the lack of his customary stimulant. There had been no sign of other visitors in the vicinity.

"Either they ain't come or you've fooled 'em, Jim," the big cowboy decided.

"Yu can bet on both them reasons an' still lose," Sudden told him. In the afternoon, Malachi, alone, sick and oppressed by the intense heat, and not conscious of where he was going, wandered out into the basin, and suddenly saw the world go black. When he recovered his senses there was a familiar taste in his mouth, and a voice he knew was speaking:

"That's better, Doc. Burn my soul, but I thought you was cold meat. Take another sup o' corpse-reviver."

A flask was held to his lips and tilted. He took a big gulp, and the fiery spirit steadied his shattered nerves and cleared his vision. He was in the basin, sitting with his back against a small boulder, and Bundy was kneeling beside him.

"Stupid of me--must have fainted--touch of the sun," he muttered.

"Shore, might happen to anyone," the foreman agreed. "But what in hell are you doin' up here? Thought I was dreamin' when I clapped eyes on you."

The liquor, working on an empty stomach, was muddling the medico's mind, but he had a hazy idea that he must not tell the truth. "Just taking a little vacation, Bundy," he replied. A happy thought occurred to him. "I've always wanted to shoot a big-horn." He pushed away the proffered flask.

"Oh, come, Doc, it ain't like you to refuse good liquor, an' this is good--some o' Ben's best of bourbon--not a headache in it. You know the stuff."

Malachi did--too well. He heard the swish of it against the glass, the pungent smell assailed him as the foreman removed the cork, and his whole being thirsted for it. His hand, trembling, came out.

"Just--one small sip."

"Drink hearty," Bundy replied generously, and whether the doctor heard or not, he obeyed.

This further dose completed the job, the drunkard's eyes glazed a little, and his voice thickened as he said, "Thanksh, Bundy, but what bringsh you to 01' Cloudy?"

"Same as yoreself--takin' a holiday," Bundy grinned. "Trenton wanted his niece to see the country, an' I had to come along."

Malachi blinked at him owlishly. "Mis' Tren'on here? Thash wrong; no place f'r lady. Have to shpeak to Zeb when I shee him." He hoisted himself to his feet. "Mus' go now. Goo'bye.

Staggering and stumbling through the sand, he reached the gorge, and, in the shade of a bush, lay down and slept. Atthe evening meal, when they were wondering what had become of him, he walked in, his face deathly white, hands shaking.

"Dan, I've done an unpardonable thing--betrayed you," he began, in a harsh, unnatural voice, and not sparing himself, told his story.

They listened in silence, and then Dan said, "So they are here. How many?"

"I have no idea; I was too drunk to try and find out any- - thing," Malachi replied miserably. "All Bundy said was that Miss Trenton is with them."

Dover stared. "Did you say Miss Trenton?" he asked. "Zeb must be loco to drag a girl into this. If he fancies her presence will help him, he'd better think again."

"Worth while gettin' acquainted with this place--we may have visitors in the mornin'," Sudden said, and as he passed Malachi, added, "Don't yu fret, Doc, we all make mistakes, an' they were bound to find us sooner or later."

The doctor looked at him dumbly; these men were beyond his comprehension. He had failed them--terribly, perhaps destroyed their hope of success, and instead of reproach, there was only a calm acceptance of the situation, and a readiness to face it. He shook his head.

"I'm just a cheap Judas, who has sold his friends for fifty cents'. worth of whisky," he said moodily. "And I'm a poor fighter, Jim."

"Shucks! the man who never lost a battle ain't been born yet," the puncher consoled.

With the help of blazing pine-knots, they carried out an inspection of the cavern, to the apparent concern of thousands of bats in the dark dome above, but no indication that any human being had ever before set foot there rewarded them. Sudden was curious about the back of the cave, where the walls and roof closed in leaving only what seemed to be the mouth of a tunnel leading into the bowels of the earth. The floor was fairly level, as were the walls, but it was clearly Nature's handiwork. Probably, he conjectured, many thousands of years ago, it had formed a channel for a great volume of water.

Anxious to know whether it provided another exit, he went on and had proceeded something less than two hundred yards when an intuition of danger caused him to pull up sharply and hold his light lower. His nerves were in perfect condition, but what he saw sent a shiver up his spine. A stride from where he stood yawned a gap in the floor, about twelve feet across, and extending from wall to wall. He knelt on the brink, moving the torch to and fro, but could only see that the sides of the abyss were perpendicular, and hear, from far below, the rumbling roar of a racing torrent.

"An' I nearly walked into it; fools for luck," he soliloquized, as he turned to retrace his steps. "I must warn the boys that this ain't no way to run."

Chapter XVII

Bundy, having watched his drunken victim out of sight, hurried with all speed to his own camp, and called his employer aside. His cunning eyes were alight with triumph.

"Boss, I got news--big news," he cried. "I've found out where them Circle Dot dawgs is holed up. They never come this way a-tall, they just tricked--"

"Never mind that," the rancher said impatiently. "Where are they?"

"The other side o' that hollow, right opposite to here."

"Have you seen any of them?"

"Yeah. Come across Doc Malachi."

Trenton regarded him with disgust. "You've been drinkin', dreamin'," he sneered.--"Damnation, I'm tellin' you the truth," Bundy raged. "Don't strain yore system," the other said acidly. He was in a bad temper; they had lost the trail, and this fool had raised hopes only to dash them again. "Get on with the fairy tale."

The foreman swallowed his wrath, and explained. Trenton listened to the end, still only half-convinced.

"Malachi," he muttered. "Why should he be with them?"

"Claimed he was takin' a holiday--to get a sheep," Bundy jeered. "Wanted me to believe he was alone." He laughed. Trenton did not join in the mirth; the presence of the doctor seemed to worry him. As he turned away, he said, "Well, if what you say proves to be correct, it will add, maybe, a hundred dollars to yore share, my man."

He did not see the grimace of hate this patronizing speech produced, nor hear the hissed words: "Throw yore chicken-feed to them as needs it, you stingy of buzzard; I'm helpin' myself, an' be damned to you."

When Garstone, who had been riding with Beth, returned, the rancher told him of the foreman's discovery.

"Good," the Easterner said. "We'll pay them a visit in the morning. You got that paper all safe?"

"Do you think I'm dumb enough to bring it here?" Trenton enquired satirically. "No, sir, it might get into wrong hands. I played safe, an' destroyed it, after learning the contents."

Chesney Garstone concealed his chagrin only by an effort. "My God, you took a; risk," he said. "If you should--die ..."

"The secret would be lost. I appreciate yore anxiety, but would that matter to me?"" The big man forced a smile. "I suppose not, but--

"I have a niece. True, but I'm a selfish man, an' I don't care two flips of a cow's tail what happens in this world after I've left it," was the callous reply.

There was a great deal of low-toned conversation that evening round the men's fire. The foreman could not keep his achievement to himself, though he took care to make clear that it was due mainly to his sagacity, and not--as in fact--to blind chance.

"So now, thanks to me, all we gotta do is walk in an' collar the plunder," he concluded.

"Have to locate the Cache first, ain't we?" Lake wanted to know.

"No trouble a-tall," Bundy assured him. "The 0I' Man has a paper givin' exact directions, which is somethin' them other guys ain't got, or they'd 'a' bin off by now."

"Sounds good," Rattray remarked casually.

"Shore does," Bundy said ironically. "Why, in three-four days we'll be back in Rainbow, git our two hundred bucks apiece mebbe, an' live 'appy every after."

"Two hundred--hell," Lake ejaculated. "Is that Trenton's notion o' things?"

"He half promised me an extra hundred for what I done to-day," was the sneering reply. "Figure out yore chances."

No one answered, but the black looks of his hearers betrayed their feelings plainly enough. The foreman said no more; he had sown the seed, and was willing to await the harvest.

In the morning, Garstone approached the rancher. "What about Miss Trenton? Taking her along?"

"Nothin' else for it," was the reply. "Can't leave her in this wild spot, unless you'd keep her company."

The suggestion was not at all to Garstone's liking. "I would enjoy it, of course, but I want to be in on this thing," he said.

"And I doubt if it would be wise to weaken our force; we don't know how strong Dover is."

"Oh, he won't fight," the rancher returned contemptuously. "But perhaps yo're right. You can look after Beth."

A little later Trenton led the way across the basin, his men in pairs behind, the girl and Garstone in the rear. Excitement shone in her eyes, and there was a tinge of colour in the slightly-tanned cheeks. A wave of passion swept over the man by her side. He bent towards her.

"My dearest ambition has come to pass this morning," he whispered.

"We haven't found the treasure yet," she replied, wilfully ignoring his meaning.

"I have found mine already, and have been deputed by your uncle to take care of it--for to-day. I would like the task to last longer--a lifetime. Do you understand, Beth?"

The words, spoken in a low, ardent tone, quickened her pulses and brought a hot flush to her face. For days she had expected the avowal, had almost decided to accept, but now that the moment had come, she hesitated.

"Yes, I understand," she said gently. "But we have known each other such a little while. You must give me time."

"Well, that's fair, my dear," he replied. "Perhaps when this trip is over, you will know me better."

She thanked him with a look which bred a desire to take her in his arms then and there, but he fought down the im

pulse; with this girl--even had they been alone--it would be an act of folly.

"What has become of the Circle Dot people?" she asked. Evidently, Trenton had told her only that they were to unearth the hidden wealth.

"We are on our way to visit them," he said. "They are camped on or near the spot we wish to search."

"Do you think Mister Dover will be--difficult?"

"No, since your uncle knows where to look, and he doesn't, a wise man would admit that he has lost."

"I'm afraid he's not very wise."

"A hot-headed young fool describes him better," Garstone said. "If he asks for trouble, he'll get it."

By this time the gorge was reached. Beth Trenton was conscious of a cold tremor as she looked at the barren, sterile walls, broken only by stunted growths clinging precariously where fissures in the cliff provided a semblance of soil; she had a premonition of impending tragedy. Despite the bright sun, and the twittering of birds in the bushes which lined their path, the place seemed to convey a threat. A sharp command rang out.

"That'll be far enough, Trenton."

The Wagon-wheel owner dragged on his reins. "Who the devil are you to give me orders?" he called. "Afraid to face me?"

Dover stepped from behind a shrub some twenty paces away. "No, but I'd think twice o' turnin' my back on you," was his cutting reply. "What's yore errand here?"

"None of yore business."

"I'm makin' it mine."

"How long have you owned the hills," Trenton retorted. "I go where I please."

"An' it pleased you to follow my trail, foot by foot," Dan sneered. "Quit lyin'; you've come to steal somethin' that belongs to me, but I got here first."

Anger and surprise betrayed the rancher into forgetting his customary caution. "You've found it?" he cried.

Dan's laugh was not mirthful. "The cat's out," he said. "Found what? The charmin' view you came all this way to show yore niece, an' fetched along five armed men to help you locate it?"

The taunting tone and the fear that he might be too late after all, roused the rancher to fury. "You damned whelp," he stormed. "If it weren't for my niece--

"Skittles!" Dan interposed. "She'll be in no danger 'less you all try to hide behind her. Set yore dawgs on when you've a mind."

Without looking round, Trenton gave an order. "Scatter and take cover; we'll cut this cockerel's comb right now."

Even as they moved to obey, he snatched out his revolver and fired at Dover. He was too late; the young man had guessed right and vanished just in time. A volley from the Wagon-wheelers followed but was ineffective since they had not even a protruding rifle-barrel to aim at. Trenton, with a curse of disgust at having missed, jumped his horse for the bushes. At the first shot, Garstone had seized the rein of Beth's mount and dragged it to the side of the gorge.

"Get off and sit down," he ordered, and set the example. "We should be safe here if the idiots don't aim low." He noticed her expression of surprise. "I'm from the East, and I don't hold with these primitive ways of settling differences," he went on. "Maiming or killing an opponent only proves proficiency with a weapon, so the greater ruffian is always right."

She did not reply; it was all very plausible, but even with her own Eastern upbringing, the sight of this big fellow sitting beside her in probable security while his friends fought, seemed wrong.

"What did Dover mean by saying the treasure belongs to him?" she asked.

"Obviously a lie," he replied carelessly.

The crash of the firing increased as the defenders of the gorge got busy, and several bullets zipped through the branches above their heads, sending down a shower of twigs and leaves.

"Damn them, they're shooting wild," Garstone muttered. "Lie close."

He took her hand, but she drew it away. "I'm not afraid," she told him.

"I am--for you," he replied warmly, but got no response.

The spiteful crack of the rifles continued for a space, and

then came a long-drawn groan. Garstone, peering from their retreat, saw Trenton, his gun falling from nerveless fingers, stagger from the bushes and fall headlong in the open. "Damnation! the swine have got Zeb," he cried.

Beth scrambled to her feet. "I must go to him," she said, and disregarding his remonstrance, ran to where her uncle was lying.

Bundy was already kneeling beside him, apparently searching for the injury. Garstone followed the girl, calling out for the firing to cease, and energetically waving a white handkerchief. He need not have troubled; even the appearance of Dover and Malachi produced no shot. The latter's examination was brief.

"He's not dead," he announced. "But the wound is serious."

"Can we take him away with us?" Garstone enquired.

"Yes, if you want him to die," the doctor replied tersely, and looked at Dover. "His only hope is to remain here, and in my care."

"Anythin' you say, Doc," Dan agreed. "We'll do all we can."

"I shall stay to nurse my uncle," Beth said quietly, her steady eyes challenging a refusal.

Dover lifted his shoulders. "I ain't objectin', but we're not fixed to entertain yore sex."

The Easterner drew Beth apart. "My mind is made up, so please don't attempt to dissuade me," she told him.

"I should not dream of doing so," he said. "you are acting bravely and rightly, but there is something I must tell you. These scoundrels have tried to kill your uncle because he alone knows exactly where the treasure is hidden; they have failed to find it. You will admit that they should not benefit by this dastardly deed."

"I will do anything to prevent that," she replied, her face cold and set.

"Good. Zeb had set his heart on securing this money and so saving the Wagon-wheel. We must try to carry out his wishes. Listen: he may become feverish and talk, or recover consciousness long enough- to confide in you. Keep everyone away from him, except the doctor, of course, and if you learn anything, let me know at once."

"How can I do that?"

"You know the place where we sheltered? I will come there every evening soon after dark in the hope of seeing you. Is it agreed?"

"Yes," she replied. "I care little about the money, but I want to see this gang of murderers defeated."

By this time the wounded man had been bandaged and laid on a blanket. "Two of you take him to our camp," Dan directed, and when Bundy and Flint at once stepped forward, added brusquely, "Not you."

The scowling pair fell back; Tiny and Hunch raised the burden and carried it carefully away. The doctor and the girl went with them. Dan turned to Garstone.

"You an' yore pack o' curs can scratch gravel, an' if you got any regard for yore skins, you'll keep clear o' here," he warned.

"You're taking a high hand, Dover," the other replied. "Miss Trenton is my promised wife, and I shall certainly come to see her."

"At yore own risk; if I catch you near my camp, I'll shoot you, an' that goes for yore thievin' bunch too. Now, roll yore tails; the play's over."

Garstone's face became ugly. "That's where you're wrong," he snarled. "This is just the first act--there's a second to come."

His four followers were behind him, waiting for a word. But Dover's men were back now; Sudden, thumbs hooked in his belt, watching sardonically, Hunch, indifferently swinging his great axe in one hand so that the sun flashed on the gleaming blade; Dan and the big cowboy, alert and ready, and Yorky, his new gun gripped in both fists, eyes alive for the least movement. Garstone did not give the word--the odds were not sufficiently in his favour. So he sneered and went in search of his horse. The others tailed in after him, but presently Bundy spurred alongside.

"We could 'a' cleaned 'em up," he said regretfully. "But where's the use? Zeb didn't have it on him."

"Didn't have what?"

"The paper, o' course, tellin' where the dollars is cached. Why'n hell d'you s'pose I downed him?"

For an instant Garstone gazed at him, petrified, unable to credit his ears, and then, "You--shot--Trenton?"

"Shore, I'd never git a better chance," came the callous reply. "He was just in front o' me, an' with all that firin' ..."

He paused, aghast at the fury in the other's face. "You clumsy bungler," the big man rasped. "Why don't you leave the planning to those whose heads are not solid bone throughout? Did you imagine that Trenton would carry a secret like that on his person for rogues like you to steal?"

"Where else?" Bundy asked sullenly.

"In his brain, you dolt, after destroying the paper," Gar-stone told him harshly. "So you've probably slain the only man who can tell us where the treasure is, damn you."

The foreman was too appalled by the magnitude of his mistake to resent the abuse showered upon him; it seemed to be the end of their hopes, and if the other men got to know ... "Mebbe Zeb'll come round enough to talk," he faltered.

"Yes, to them," Garstone snapped.

"There's the gal." Hopefully.

"You're a little late with that idea," came the sneer. "What do you think I was speaking to her about? She's our one chance, and until I get news from her, we can make no move. Understand?"

Bundy nodded. He did not like the tongue-lashing, but he liked still less the prospect of losing his share in the contents of the Cache, so he endured the first in the hope of getting the second. Which did not mean he forgave. A cowboy once described the foreman as having been "raised on vinegar," and the only comment from the company was, "an' the meanest vinegar, at that."

Chapter XVIII

The Circle Dot men watched the discomfited band leave the gorge, and then returned to the cave. Dover walked to a small recess near the entrance, where a second fire had been lighted, and the wounded cattleman made comfortable on a pile of blankets. Miss Trenton was seated on a chunk of stone at his side, and the doctor was standing near.

"How is he?" Dan asked.

"Pretty bad," Malachi replied. "Bullet through the chest, but he's physically fit an' has a chance--a slim one. I've done all that is possible."

Dover nodded, and the doctor went, leaving the young man staring moodily at the helpless form of his enemy. He was recalling the stark, outstretched figure of his father. What part had Trenton played in that tragedy? Was this retribution, or ... His reverie was broken by a cold, scornful voice:

"Admiring your work?"

"This is no work of mine," he returned quietly.

"Why quibble? You or your men--it is the same thing," she said passionately.

"Trenton fired the first shot, direct at me, without warnin'," he reminded.---

"You had insulted him," was all she could find to say.

Dan's laugh was bitter. "So, a Trenton may lie, steal, or murder, but he must not be insulted. Oh, yo're one o' the breed, all right."

"I'm glad of it."

"An' so am I, otherwise He did not finish, but her woman's intuition told her what was is his mind--that he might have cared for her. She bit her lip, conscious of an intense desire to hurt this man who showed his scorn so plainly.

"You would have been too late," she said. "I am already--"

"Promised to Garstone," he ended. "He bragged about it just now, this brave fella who cowered with you behind a bush while his friends fought."

He had seen that. The hot blood in her cheeks was partly due to the taunt, but also to the fact that the Easterner had taken her consent for granted, "He was asked to look after me and did so."

"An' his own skin at the same time. Well, let's drop an unpleasant subject. I want to know whether you'd ruther feed with us, or over there?"

"I am not used to the company of ruffians," she said loftily. "You oughta be, by this time," he retorted. "One thing more: you are not to go more'n twenty yards from this camp without my permission.""And if I do?"

She saw his jaw harden. "I'll put you across my knee an' spank you good an' plenty," he said.

Before she could reply to this amazing threat, he had joined the others at the fire. Tiny was chaffing with yorky. "How'd it feel to be loosin' off yore gun at a human bein'?" he wanted to know.

"I warn't--I was aimin' at Bundy," the boy grinned.

The chuckle this produced reached the girl's ears, and she shivered; she found herself unable to fathom these men, who slew or attempted to, and in the same hour, could be amused by trivialities. She looked at her charge; only the faintest rise and fall of his breast showed that he still lived. He, too, was of the same type, hard, relentless, violent, in keeping with the savage character of the country. She gazed round the gloomy cavern, rendered even more eerie by the dancing flames of the fires, and it all seemed like an evil dream. The low, clear voice of Dover came to her during a lull in the chatter.

"What you say don't surprise me none, Doc," he said. "All the more reason why we gotta pull him through."

Beth had not heard Malachi's remark, but it was evident they were speaking of her uncle. It set her wondering. Why should Dover be anxious to save the life he or his had tried to take? Then she remembered what Garstone had told her.

"They shan't know," she murmured, through shut teeth. "I'll beat them, the brutes."

But she could not dismiss Dover from her thoughts. The red-haired boy who had so gallantly twice come to her aid, had become a stern, harsh-tongued man, lacking even the common courtesy accorded to her sex. Anger welled up as she recalled his threat.

"And he would do it," she reflected. "He--hates me--just because I am a Trenton."

A more sophisticated woman would have solved the secret, divined that Dover's attitude was due to anything but hatred, and that in the blundering fashion of an inexperienced youth, he was trying to build up an impassable barrier between them, lest worse befall. Her mind failed to envisage the completeness of a malignity which could hand down a war from one generation to another.

Later, when she was striving, unsuccessfully, to arrange the blankets upon which she was to sleep, she heard the rancher say, "Tiny, go an' help Miss Trenton," and to Malachi ,"Hell! a woman who can't make a bed."

The big cowboy came over, gave one glance at the tumbled coverings, shook the sand out of them, and started from the beginning. In five minutes an attractive couch was awaiting her. He threw more logs on the fire.

"Lie with yore feet to the flames an' you won't git cold." He gazed curiously at the sick man. "Any better?"

"There is no change," she replied.

"Well, he shorely asked for it," Tiny said. "Shootin' at Dan thataway was a dirty trick."

" `Like master, like man,' " she quoted to herself, thanked him, and lay down. It proved to be very comfortable, and her last waking thought was that she must get one of the cowboys to teach her the knack. After all, a woman really ought to know how to make a bed.

Sudden, Malachi, and the rancher spoke together when supper was over.

"Phil has some news for us, Jim," Dan began. "He claims that Zeb was shot by one of his own outfit."

"Likely enough," the puncher said.

"More than that--certain," Malachi pronounced. "The bullet entered the back, travelled upwards, and through the chest; it must have been fired by someone behind and near."

"Bundy was the first to reach him," Sudden reminded. "Also, he was too long lookin' for a wound in plain sight."

"After the instructions for findin' the Cache, huh?" the rancher asked.

"There were no papers on Trenton," Malachi remarked. "I made sure of that when dressing his hurt. Unprofessional, I fear, but ..."

"Then Bundy may hold the key."

"I guess not," Sudden said. "Trenton's no fool; that document would be a dangerous thing to carry about; he would learn and destroy it, as we did."

"Yo're probably right, Jim," Dan agreed, and to the doctor, "Miss Trenton thinks one of us shot her uncle; don't put her wise. No need to tell the boys either--yet."

In the morning Malachi came to inspect his patient. Dover was with him. Having satisfied himself that the dressings werein place, the doctor said, "Well, he is no worse. Anything to report, nurse?"

"Once in the night he groaned, and I think, tried to move."

"Shows there's a kick still in him. He's a tough old sinner is Zeb, and he'll fight."

"Did you sleep well?" Dover asked the girl, and when she nodded, went on, "I've told Hunch to get some birch." The flash in her eyes advised him that she had misunderstood. "Birch twigs make the best bed one could wish for," he explained dryly.

"I see," she said slowly. "They have, I believe, other uses" Dan hit back. "I told him to fetch in plenty." As he stalked off, his reflection was, "Damn the girl. Why can't I keep away from her?" The eternal call of youth to youth was the answer, had he but known it, but he blamed his weakness. "Like a fool moth, flutterin' round a flame an' on'y gettin' singed," was his angry conclusion.

Yorky, who had been on guard, arrived with a vent for his annoyance. "Say, Boss, that Garstone guy is a piece down th' alley. I telled him to stay there till yer came."

"Is he alone?"

"Couldn't see no others."

"Ask Jim an' Tiny to be on hand," Dover said, and went out.

The visitor had dismounted and was leaning against the tree to which he had tied his horse, smoking a cigarette, and with a small grip-sack at his feet. No greetings were exchanged.

"I've brought some things Miss Trenton may want," he began. "I wish to give them to her."

"I'll take 'em," Dan said, picking up the bag. "What's inside o' this?"

Garstone looked indignant. "I wouldn't presume--"

"Then I will," Dan said coolly, and opened the grip. On the top lay a loaded revolver. "That's somethin' she won't need--don't s'pose she ever pulled a trigger in her life. Wonder where she got it."

"Provided by her uncle, I imagine."

Dan laughed unpleasantly. "Yeah. Zeb would know the company she had to ride with." He slipped the weapon into his own belt. "I'd give it to you, but I don't want to walk backwards to my camp."

The obvious implication brought a venomous expression to the big man's face. "Scared, eh?" he sneered.

"Scared nothin'," the rancher said harshly. "I'm on'y rememberin' that Trenton was shot from behind."

Garstone's start of surprise was quite well done. "Impossible!" he cried.

"Doc Malachi knows his job."

"And is on your side."

"True, he ain't a skunk neither."

"You keep adding to the score, Dover. Don't forget that there'll be a day of reckoning."

"My memory's fine," was the nonchalant answer. "Wait here; I'll send the girl to you."

Indifferently he turned his broad back and strode away. Garstone watched him with a brooding frown, fully aware that Sudden and Tiny, rifles across their left arms, were in sight. That they knew the manner of Trenton's hurt was disturbing. Had they informed his niece? But when she presently came to meet him, he did not ask. His first enquiry concerned the patient. She told him the little there was, adding that she believed the doctor was doing everything possible. Garstone saw his opportunity.

"Yes, having done their best to take his life, they are now desperately eager to save it," he said bitterly. "And we know why."

"It would seem so," she admitted.

Her reply was a great relief to him; evidently she had not been told. At the same time, he sensed a change in her; she did not appear to be so pleased to see him as he would have liked.

"Are these fellows treating you decently?"

"Yes, but I am virtually a prisoner."

"It won't be for long," he consoled. "Once we get the location from your uncle, you will be released, and I will deal with these dogs as they deserve."

She found herself wondering what form this promised retribution would take, and how it would conform to his views as to the use of violence in quarrels. Before she could come to any decision, he spoke again:

"We must be vigilant, my dear--everything depends on your being present when Zeb regains consciousness. I don't trust that tippling doctor; he is working for them."

"I think he is honest," she said. "There are worse things than love of liquor--greed of gold, for example; the first may kill one man, the second, many."

"I thought you were anxious to discover the treasure," he protested.

"For my uncle's sake, but if it is to cost lives ..."

Garstone was a gambler; he played a desperate card, to win or lose all. "If you've changed your mind, we'll give up the affair and sneak back to Rainbow with our tails tucked in," he said. "The Circle Dot will be delighted."

The fire in the dark eyes told him he had won. "No," she replied, through clenched teeth. "I will do my part; they shall not profit by an attempted murder."

"That's the Trenton spirit--I knew you wouldn't back down," he cried exultantly. "And soon, when the old man is on his feet again, and the ranch in the clear, we'll--"

"I must get back," she interrupted hurriedly. "Even now, uncle may be needing me."

He let her go without demur--it would be a calamity if the enemy learned the secret first--but his expression, when she had turned, was anything but that of an adoring lover.

A week passed, spent by the Circle Dot in a continuance of the search. The gorge had been gone over with a fine-tooth comb, and every foot of the floor of the cavern probed, but beneath the layer of sand only rock was encountered. The task appeared to be hopeless, yet they persevered.

The condition of Trenton had improved, the wound was beginning to heal, and his pulse was stronger. Between long spells of sleep, he would lie like a log, gazing vacantly intc the vaulted roof. He knew no one, and uttered no sound Beth, watching constantly by the bedside, earned the admira tion of all, save Dan, for her devotion.

"Got the right stuff in her, that gal," Tiny remarked. "Ii she hadn't enough to do a'ready, I'd fall sick my own self."

"We'd have ter send fer th' school-marm then," york) grinned, and then went in pursuit of his hat, which had beer sent spinning across the cave.

Malachi was optimistic. "He's better in body, but doesn't seem to get his wits back," he reported to Dover.

"If he don't, it looks like a stalemate for all of us," the young man said despondently. "That damned banker will sell us out."

"Well, the Wagon-wheel can't buy anyway. What has become of Garstone and company?"

"They're around. He sneaks up the gorge every night, an' the girl goes to talk with him. They think they're puttin' one over on me."

"Aren't you a trifle hard on her, Dan?" Malachi suggested. "She's having a middling rocky time and standing up to it well."

The rancher laughed ironically. "Do you know why she offered to nuss that of crook? Not because he's a relative, but to get a line either from him or us, on where to look for the dollars. So far, she's had nothin' but failure to report to her--boss."

"If that's so, Garstone has lied to, and is using her," the doctor asserted. "The girl is not mercenary."

Late that evening, with only the stars to light her path, Beth slid noiselessly out of the cave and crept through the bushes to meet Garstone. He was there, and greeted her with outstretched arms, but she recoiled.

"I must hurry," she whispered. "I believe Dover suspects we are meeting. Thank Heaven, this may be the last time I need come here."

In the excitement her words caused, he forgot the rebuff. "You have news--at last?"

"Yes, my uncle spoke, to-day, when we were alone," she replied. "Only two sentences, but they may supply the clue."

"Quick, tell me, girl; at any moment we might be disturbed." In his anxiety, the mask of culture he affected slid aside, and she saw the gleam of covetousness in his eyes, heard it in his husky voice. At that moment she knew that she was nothing to him but the bearer of tidings which might make him rich.

"His speech was faint, and very slow, like that of one trying to remember," she said. " The--cave--of--the--bats.' There are hundreds of them over our heads. Then, after a long pause,he went on, `The--finger--of--the--ages--points--thespot.' "

"And that was all?" His disappointment was patent. "He has not said anything more."

"The devil, it only sets us another problem. The cave is probably the right one, though there may be others with bats in them, but what does finger of the ages mean? Has the place any unusual feature?"

Beth strove to visualize her prison. She was weary of the daily and nightly vigil, sick of the whole sordid business. "It contains many stalactites, hanging from the roof like great fingers--"

"By the Lord, you've got it, girl," he burst in. "Fingers of the ages--the products of millions of years. It will be under one of them, but which? Surely the longest or largest; we'll find it."

"Don't be too sanguine," she warned. "Dover and his men have scanned every foot--the floor is rock."

He laughed confidently. "Never fear; with the tip you've given us, it'll be easy. Now, cut along back, in case of accidents. By the way, what sort of guard do they keep?"

"They take turn, in pairs, through the night. What do you intend to do?"

"No plans yet, but be prepared for quick action," he said briskly. "We'll have you free, pronto, as these barbarians put it."

With scant ceremony, he left her, and as she returned to the cave her thoughts were not of the pleasantest. Without being yet in love with the man, his bigness, good looks, and evident knowledge of the world had made that an undoubted possibility. He had put the money first, and herself second in the night's enterprise, and she knew that was how they ranked in his mind. The fact disturbed her. Creeping along under the cliff, she reached the entrance to the camp, and stole through. Her patient was asleep, and four recumbent forms round the fire showed that all save the sentries had turned in. With a sigh of relief, she followed their example, and, despite her anxiety, slept soundly.

Chapter XIX

Garstone drove his horse hard in his haste to deliver the good

news to his companions. They had been difficult to control

for the past week, though he had made it clear that, in consequence of Bundy's blunder, patience was their only policy. Lake had been the principal objector.

"Drive 'em out'n their camp an' we got as good a chance as they have," he argued. "While we're messin' about here, they may find the stuff an' light out."

"My information is that they're no nearer success than when they started," Garstone had retorted, and as the other three supported this view, he won his way. And now he could enjoy his triumph.

He must tell them, for he needed their assistance, but when it came to a division of the spoils, he saw breakers ahead. His brow became furrowed as he dwelt on the problem. Their idea was equal shares--as much had been said--and the very thought of it filled him with rage. He found himself regretting his cavalier treatment of the foreman, but the fellow was an ignorant boor, anyway, and could no doubt be talked over.

They were sitting round the fire, smoking and chatting, when he arrived. Their changed attitude towards him was clearly shown by Lake's greeting:

"Yo're back early, Garstone. Warn't yore Lulu too kind this evenin'?"

The Easterner drew himself up. "Use a civil tongue when you speak of that lady," he said. "And for myself, remember that, in the absence of Trenton, I'm your chief."

"Oh, yeah," the other sneered.

"If you don't like that, you can clear out--now," Garstone added.

"Who's makin' me?" The fellow's hand was stealing towards his gun.

With amazing speed for one of his bulk, Garstone leapt,pinned the threatening wrist, and wrenching away the weapon, flung it down. Then his great fingers closed on Lake's throat, lifted and shook him with such ferocity as to well-nigh dislocate his neck.

"You insolent hound," he gritted between his teeth. "I've a mind to tear you in two with my hands."

He shook him again as though about to carry out his threat, and then hurled him to the ground, to lie there panting and beaten. Garstone turned to the others, who had watched the scene in silence.

"Curse the foul-mouthed fool," he growled. "He might have been useful to-night in the clean-up, but we must do without him."

"The clean-up?" Bundy cried.

"Certainly--that's what I said," Garstone replied coolly. "Miss Trenton, as a great sacrifice of her personal comfort, has found out what we wanted to know, and this--reptile--insults her."

The "reptile" was climbing to his feet; he had heard, as the speaker intended, and was not going to be left out if he could avoid it. Vengeance would wait.

"Aw, Boss, I warn't meanin' nothin'," he whined. "Just a bit o' joshin', that's all. Us fellas is a mite loose speakin' of women, but I reckon we all respec's Miss Trenton."

Garstone hesitated--purposely. His gust of passion had been partly premeditated, an attempt to regain the authority which had been slipping from him since the rancher's injury, and he had no desire to lessen the number of his force, few enough already for the task in view. Also, a dismissed man might turn traitor, warn, or even join, the enemy.

"That type of humour does not appeal to me," he said coldly. "I am willing to overlook it, this time, but you fellows must understand that what I say, goes, or I am finished with the business."

Being completely in his hands, for ,the present, there could be only one answer to this, and Bundy voiced it:

"I guess we're all agreed on that." The others nodded assent, Lake leading the way. "That's all right, Boss. I s'pose with what Miss Trenton has told you, we can go straight to the Cache?"

Garstone suppressed a smile at this clumsy attempt to pump. "Hardly so simple, Bundy," he replied. "My information will enable me to find the treasure only when we have driven Dover and his men away."

"Why can't we make tracks with the dollars an' leave them Circle Dot pilgrims to go on lookin' for what ain't there?" Rattray wanted to know.

"Because, my clever friend, the said pilgrims are camped right on top of the dollars," was the crushing reply.

Shortly after midnight, they set out, crossed the basin, and entered the gorge. Fortune favoured them, for the night was dark, and they were able to approach unseen. Fifty yards from the cavern, they dismounted and continued the advance on foot. Moving slowly and silently against the black background of the bushes, they presently paused at the sound of a voice--the doctor's.

"Did you hear anything, Hunch?" it enquired.

No reply came; they did not know that the old man had answered with his customary movement of the head, useless in the darkness. So they waited, and then went a few more paces. The shadowy forms of the sentries could now be dimly discerned.

Flint and Rattray crept up behind them, the soft sand muffling their tread, a rifle-butt rose and thudded on the head of Hunch, spreading him senseless on the ground. At the same instant, vicious iron fingers encircled Malachi's throat from behind, preventing the escape of any sound, he was flung down, tied, and effectively gagged by men who, accustomed to handling cattle and horses, found his spare frame an easy task. That they went to this trouble in his case was due to Garstone.

"Mustn't damage the doctor," he had said grimly. "We may need his services."

Leaving their victims on the ground--having first bound the old man in case he recovered--the attackers moved towards the cavern. The glow of the fires, while emphasizing the darkness, enabled them to see the blanketed sleepers, four at one, and two at the other. The latter interested them not at all. With cat-like tread, and invisible until they got within the circle of light, they spread out and then closed in on the larger fire. A low whistle from their leader, and they charged.

Outnumbered and taken by surprise, the Circle Dot men had little chance. Sudden. awakened by a stumble followed by a stifled oath, only thought it was his turn to take guard, andgot to his feet. Then, across the flames, he saw Yorky, kicking and struggling in the grip of a formless shadow, and heard him yell:

"Look out, Jim; they's on to us."

He turned just in time to escape a swinging blow from a gunstock. His hands dropped to his belt, but ere he could pull a weapon, his arms were pinioned in a band of steel and he was dragged violently backwards. He saw Yorky felled to the earth by a savage fist, and a fitful flare showed him that it was Garstone who dealt the blow; the sight of this big fellow beating up a boy disgusted and infuriated him.

With a swift wrench, he got one arm free, and twisting, drove a fist where he imagined the face of his assailant must be. His guess was a good one, he felt his knuckles connect with flesh and bone. The man fell away, but before Sudden could make any use of this advantage, another hurled himself upon him, clutching and grabbing for a hold. Every muscle braced to keep his feet, he struck fiercely right and left in an endeavour to break away and use his six-shooters, but the two men gave him not a second's respite.

Guns began to crack spitefully, but in the flickering light and violent action, aim could only be erratic. In one flash, Sudden saw Tiny drop, and his opponent run to the aid of the two with whom Dan was fighting furiously. Biting on an oath, he redoubled his efforts, shooting out short-arm jabs with such speed and venom that one of the clawing forms fell back, and panted:

"We got you to rights, Green. Give in, or I'll blow you apart." The words were followed by the click of a cocked revolver.

It was Flint's voice, and the puncher was about to tell him where he could go when a woman's shrill shriek of despair rang out, and he saw Beth Trenton--apparently panic-stricken --running in the direction of the tunnel. The memory of the abyss awaiting her chilled his blood.

The interruption had startled his adversaries into a moment's slackness. Stooping, he snatched a blazing pine-knot from the fire and thrust it into their faces. Scorched and half-blinded by this unexpected weapon, they recoiled, and dashing between them, he followed the girl, calling her by name. Only the hollow echo of his own cry came back to him.

He raced on, realizing that her life depended upon his over taking her in time. Fit as he was, his breathing power, already taxed by the fight against two, began to weaken under the strain he was now putting upon it. Moreover, his high-heeled cowboy boots were built for riding, not running, and the uneven nature of the ground provided another obstacle to speed.

But Sudden was not the man to boggle at difficulties, he had met and overcome too many; so he stumbled on as best he could, and in silence, for he needed all his breath. Presently, scuffling step warned him that she could not be far away. He dared not call out, lest he frightened her; the death-trap must be near. A moment later, holding his torch high, he saw her, only a few yards ahead, staggering blindly on, apparently oblivious to all save a desire to escape. With a last desperate effort he reached and dragged her back on the very brink of the chasm.

"It's all right, Miss Trenton," he said. "Yu were headin' for danger."

She looked at him with dazed eyes, made a feeble effort to release herself, then saw the gaping void before them and shuddered violently.

"I lost my nerve," she murmured. "The shooting and fighting, I couldn't bear it. I wanted to get away--anywhere."

"Shore, I understand," he replied.

Behind them in the tunnel, a shout, followed by two shots which whistled by them in unpleasant proximity, reminded Sudden that he was a hunted man. He had no intention of allowing himself to be taken, and if he left the girl, she might be hit in the random shooting. He took a quick glance at the bar to their retreat; it appeared to be about twelve feet wide, and the far side was slightly lower. The pursuers, who had no light, were still a little distahce off and advancing slowly. It was a hazardous chance, but still--a chance. He pitched his torch carefully, saw it fall safely on the other lip and remain alight. Then he turned to his companion.

"Fellin' better?" he asked.

"Yes, I am all right again," she replied. "What are you going to do?"

"We gotta get over that--ditch," he said.

"Impossible," she cried.

"Or stay an' be shot."

As if to drive home his grim alternative, the tunnel reverberated with two more reports, and the bullets chipped fragments from the rock walls; they were shooting at the light. Sudden acted promptly. Seizing the girl's arm, he stepped back ten careful paces, then stooped and lifted her.

"Keep still, an' don't be scared," he said.

Filling his lungs, he started to run, gaining momentum with each stride and counting them. At the tenth, with a mighty effort, he launched himself and his burden into the air. Sickening seconds, more like long minutes, ensued, during which they seemed to be hanging over the unseen, terrible trough of blackness beneath. Sudden felt that the girl's weight was dragging him down, and the fear that he had failed to jump far enough flashed through his mind. They were falling fall- ing, and then his feet jarred on solid earth, he stumbled, and went headlong. Beth, forced from his grasp by the impact, was lying, faint and dizzy, just in front of him.

"Don't move," he whispered.

He need not have troubled; she had no desire or strength to do so. Prone in the darkness they waited; the torch had flickered out. Steps sounded, and a voice:

"C'mon Flint. We must be most on to him now."

"Don't like this damn place--too much like a perishin' grave," was the grumbling reply. "I'm for goin' back; can't see his light even."