Sudden Takes The Trail

To the condemned man it all seemed unreal. Above his head, birds were chirping, and the sunlight, filtering through the foliage, threw dancing shadows on the ground. The world appeared, in truth, a fair place, and he was about to leave it--shamefully. Then into his consciousness came something very real indeed--Javert's poisonous features, alight with triumph, within a foot of his own.

"So, Mister Sudden, our game is finished, an' I take the pot," he hissed. "I promised myself to get you an' that coyote cub, Masters " He got no further, having--in his eagerness to vent his spleen--overlooked the fact that the man he taunted was unbound. With all the fury of one who has nothing to lose, Sudden's right fist came up and smashed into the leering face like a battering-ram, and Javert went down as though he had encountered a cyclone. Mouthing mad blasphemies, he scrambled to his feet and clawed at his gun, but Jake clutched his wrist.

"Don't be a fool ! " he cried. "Can't you wait a few minutes? That's what he was playin' for--an easy death." The stricken man spat out a tooth and wiped the blood from his gashed lips. "I'll make it easy for him," he snarled. "Listen, you with the rope : when he's half-choked, lower him to the ground again so's he can fill his lungs, an' keep on doin' it; he shall die ten times for that blow." This diabolical suggestion brought an angry protest from the saloon-keeper, and some of the more sober in the crowd supported him.

"We're here to see justice done, Sark," one of them said. "But we ain't Injuns, an' won't stand for torture."

"An' I don't reckon that Pinetown has the say-so in these proceedin's neither," another added, a sentiment whichbrought a still blacker look to Javert's damaged countenance, but was promptly taken up and repeated.

More joined in, and the argument as to whether a man should die slowly or quickly became general.

Chapter VII

SHORTLY after the band of self-appointed executioners had departed on its grisly errand, a solitary horseman loped into Welcome. Young, attired in range-rig, with a good-humoured, not unpleasing face, there was nothing remarkable about him save his pallor, unusual in a land of sunburnt skins. At Gowdy's store he dismounted, entered, and asked for "smokin'."

"This is the most lonesome place I've struck," he remarked. "Yu ain't the on'y inhabitant, are yu?"

"All the men are gone to the lynchin', I s'pose," Lucy told him, with a feminine shudder. "Beasts, I call them." The visitor stared at her. "Yu don't say. Who they string-in' up, an' whyfor?"

"Our new marshal," she said. "They say he shot a man."

"Well, a marshal has to do that--times. I ain't never seen a hangin'. Where's it takin' place?"

"On the road to the west--there's no trees here."

"What had the dead man done?"

"I don't know--it happened a long ways off, before the marshal came here." Her eyes filled. "You see, it was owin' to me he got the job. If I hadn't told him of the vacancy maybe ... Oh, it's too bad. I can see him now, ridin' up to the Red Light on that great black horse."

"A black hoss?" the cowboy cried. "With a white face?"

"Why, yes, do you ?"

"Hell's flames ! " he swore, and darted for the street.

leaving his purchase and the dollar he had put down in payment lying on the counter.

Amazement held her for a moment, then she ran to the door, only to see a diminishing cloud of dust travelling west.

"He must be awful anxious to see a hangin'," she decided.

In this she did the young man an injustice, for that was precisely what he fervently desired not to see. Therefore he plied spurs and quirt--though not cruelly--in the effort to drag a little more speed from his tired mount.

"Which I'm shorely sorry, Splinter, but we just gotta make it," he panted. "O' course, he may've sold his hoss, but no, he'd never part with Nigger." Soon they sighted the tree, and the black knot of people. A decision had been arrived at--Javert's inhuman proposal had found few supporters, and Sudden was to die only once.

"Someone a'comin' an' ain't losin' time neither," Dutch called out.

Jake glanced down the trail; one man only, but he was taking no chances. "Haul on that rope," he ordered.

The burly fellow holding it was bracing himself to obey when a hard round object was jammed into the small of his back and a harsh voice whispered, "If you do, you'll die before he does." A half turn of the head told him that the owner of the Red Light was standing behind him, and being well aware that Nippert was no bluffer, he froze. Before Jake could investigate, the newcomer arrived, leapt from the saddle, and shouldered his way unceremoniously through the onlookers.

"Jim ! " he cried.

Sudden stared at him in utter bewilderment, unable to believe his eyes. The face of one other betrayed a like incredulity, that of Javert, who gazed open-mouthed at this man who had apparently risen from the grave to defeat him.

"Dave," the marshal breathed. "It can't be--yo're dead."

"Not very," the other returned lightly.

"But--I killed yu."

"Skittles! It was a pore shot--on'y creased me." Hepushed his hat back, showing a scarcely-healed wound along the side of his head. "I didn't bat an eyelid for most twenty-four hours--concussion, the doc said. Soon as I was able to climb a hoss, I set out in search o' yu, an' I seem to 'a' got here at the right moment." He stepped to the condemned man and lifted the loop from his neck.

"Who the devil are you to come buttin' into our business?" Mullins rasped.

The young man grinned at him. "I'm Dave Masters, the corpse in this case, an' if anybody wants to argue, he'll find me the livest corpse he ever tackled." The challenge passed unheeded, but Nippert joined the two men beneath the tree. "Here's yore belt, marshal," he said. "Mebbe you'll feel more comfortable wearin' it." The act aroused Sark's malignity. "Hold on there," he growled. "We've on'y got this fella's word that he's Masters." The cowboy's face grew bleak. "I'll remember that, Mister Whatever-yore-name-is," he retorted, and looked around. "Ask the skunk who came to yu with a lyin' tale to hang the man he had failed to murder; there he stands--Javert; he's the one yu oughta swing." A threatening murmur warned the Pinetown citizen that he might be in danger--mobs were mercurial, easily swayed. In his anxiety to save his neck, he fell into the trap.

"It warn't no lie," he blurted out. "I left with the posse an' we all figured you was cashed. I ain't bin in Pinetown since, so how would I know?" Dave's grin was back again. "Well, gents, Mister Javert havin' admitted I'm me--which a'most makes me doubt it myself--I guess that settles the cat-hop," he remarked.

"Not any," Sark snapped. "That fella"--pointing to the marshal--"is a notorious outlaw, an' I'm going to turn him over to the sheriff at Drywash."

"You gotta git him first," Nippert said. "Loose yore dawgs as soon as you like, Sark." The defiance brought a deeper frown to the rancher's face.

Many of the Welcome men were stepping aside and would take no part in an affray, but he would have two for one. Nevertheless, lives would be lost, and there was that cursed gunman. Sark had an uneasy feeling that the marshal's first bullet would render the result of the fight a matter of indifference to him. Then Providence intervened. A growing thunder of hammering hooves, and along the trail a compact body of riders raced into view. Nippert drew a deep breath of relief; the Bar O had come. A few more seconds and they were at the scene.

"What's goin' on here?" Owen asked, and when he had heard the story, turned to Sark. "Sore at havin' failed to hang a man for somethin' he didn't do, huh?" he said contemptuously.

"He's an outlaw--wanted in Texas "

"He's wanted a damn' sight more in Welcome, judging by this precious gathering; the on'y thing I'm surprised at is that they had the pluck to try it in daylight," came the scathing answer. "I s'pose you made 'em good an' drunk first. Got any proof of what you say?"

"That fella knows him." The Bar O owner regarded Javert with distinct disapproval. "I wouldn't destroy a dawg on his evidence," he said bluntly. "What's it gotta do with you, Sark, anyways?"

"I was invited by the citizens o' Welcome to come in----"

"Meanin' Mullins an' the lousy loafers from Dirty Dick's?" Owen interrupted. "Well, you are now invited to get out, pronto." The Dumb-bell man writhed under the lash of that bitter tongue. "yo're takin' a high hand," he said. "I ain't here alone."

"I'd noticed it, an' if you want trouble . . ." Sark was not eager--the odds were no longer in his favour; the majority of the townsfolk would side with the Bar O, whose custom was of moment to many of them. Also, the riders from that ranch were known to be willing fighters, ready to storm the gates of Hell itself at the bidding of theirboss. And the marshal ... Sark reckoned up the chances and made his decision.

"That'll come later," he promised. "For now, I'm pullin' out." He swung his horse towards the hills where his own ranch lay, and his men followed him in silence.

John Owen turned to Masters. "I'm obliged to you, young man," he said. "We were delayed, an' if you hadn't got here when you did . . ."

"I'd be hearin' harps right now," Sudden finished. "Yo're flatterin' yoreself, ol'-timer," Dave laughed. "When did you get religion?"

"Jim's a methodis', an' he has Welcome mighty near convened," Nippen said solemnly.

"There goes some who ain't converted yet," Gowdy remarked ironically, indicating another group heading for town. "Don't you make the mistake o' thinkin' you've finished with them, marshal."

"I won't," Sudden smiled. "But I feel like forgivin' even Jake and Javert to-day." It was true; relief from the intolerable and ever-present burden of grief was so great that he could harbour no rancour against any. But someone was missing--Sloppy.

"Had to leave him in town--said his feet was wore off to the knees," Owen explained. "My idea is that he reckoned we'd be too late an' he couldn't face it."

"There's a good deal of a man hid somewhere in that fella," Sudden observed. "Welcome ain't troubled to look for it." A mount was found for the marshal and he rode with his friend, almost in silence. But each knew the other's mind, and was content; sentiment would have made both uncomfortable. At length, Dave said:

"Ain't nothin' wrong with yore eyes, Jim?" Sudden removed his spectacles and stowed them in a pocket. "No," he replied. "They was just a notion. My, this trail looks purtier'n it did a while back." The westering sun was casting long shadows as they loped into the town, and passing the Widow Gray's, Sudden had an idea which he communicated to his companion.

"First come, first served, is a right good motto," he concluded. "O' course, she's a widow, an' ain't as young as she was, but yu'll like her--cookin'." When Dave entered the little dining-room, its owner was wiping her eyes; he could not know that they were tears of thankfulness. She had seen the prisoner taken away, and heard the purpose; now she had witnessed his safe return. She became aware that the stranger was staring at her, nervously running the brim of his big hat through finger and thumb. The sight of this slim young woman had him guessing--wrongly.

"S'cuse me, miss, but Jim--the marshal--said for me to tell yore mother that four hungry men is aimin' to pay yu a visit an' mebbe she could sling a meal for us," he said awkwardly.

It was her turn to stare. "My mother?" she queried. "There must be some mistake; I am Mrs. Gray."

"Well, of all the scaly reptiles ! " Dave gasped. "No, miss --ma'am, I mean, that ain't for yu, but that marshal fella He fooled me--said yu warn't as young as yu was once." She laughed happily. "But that's true of us all, isn't it? Now, with four men to feed, I must get busy."

"Jim said there'd be others to follow--the Bar O is in town; we're sorta stealin' a march on 'em." She raised her hands in dismay at the prospect and darted away. He followed her to the door.

"Say, can I help?" She laughed again. "Yes, if you can peel potatoes."

"I can skin an ox, so I guess I oughta be able to shuck the hide off'n a measly vegetable," he replied.

So when Sudden, Reddy, and Shorty arrived, sounds of mirth greeted them from the kitchen.

"Sloppy musta recovered," Reddy remarked.

"That's Dave," Sudden smiled. "Set him down in the middle o' the Staked Plain an' he'll be callin' all the rattlesnakes by their first names inside an hour." A moment later the young man entered, wiping his hands, and grinning widely. "Yu fellas ever tried peelin' spuds?" he asked. "I'm tellin' yu it's an art. First two or three I held all wrong, an' Mrs. Gray said if she cooked what I took off yu'd get more to eat, but after she showed me, I got along fine."

"What yu done to them fingers?" Sudden asked.

"The durned knife slipped a few," Dave admitted. "I came near bein' shy some digits." The arrival of the meal put an end to conversation for a time, but when appetites began to wane, tongues became busy again. The Bar O men wanted to hear the story of the Pinetown affair in detail, and then Reddy told of the shooting match, and the fight with Mullins, despite Sudden's attempt to head him off.

"Why didn't yu blow his light out?" Dave demanded, and as he saw the expression on his friend's face, added softly, "Yu of Piute. What yu need is a guardian." With the advent of more customers, they went away, leaving their hostess overwhelmed by their praise. She refused Dave's offer of further assistance, Sloppy having turned up, painfully lame, but deaf to all her protests.

"We can't have them boys goin' away disappointed," he said. "I can work settin' down."

Chapter VIII

As was generally expected, Jake and his adherents, though they had returned to Welcome, had no intention of continuing to honour it with their presence. At Dirty Dick's, the same evening, the matter was discussed.

"I'm goin'--but not very far," Mullins announced to his own little circle. "No, sirree, I'm aimin' to even up with this place, as well as that swine, Owen, an' fill my pockets at the same time. We'll have to live rough an' take a risk, but the profits will be han'some. Any of you can come in, but it's gonna be understood that I give the orders."

"I'm game," Javert said. "I've a few debts in these parts an' ain't leavin' till they're paid--in full." Sloppy brought the news to the marshal in the morning. "Jake is clearin' out."

"Did yu figure he'd stay?"

"No, but he's tryin' to sell his business."

"Yu wanta buy it?" Sudden asked sardonically.

"yeah, but I ain't got the coin," was the unexpected reply. "An' run in opposition to Mrs. Gray?"

"No."

"Then--by Jupiter, yo're right, an' I must be dumb. She ain't got enough room, an' ... I'll see Morley, he's the fella to deal with this." Forthwith he sought the banker and explained his mission. "He's askin' two hundred an' fifty, but I guess he'll take less; he ain't servin' five meals a day that's paid for."

"Leave it to me," the banker said.

He found his man at home, and came to the point at once. "I'm told you're selling out; what's the figure?"

"Three hundred, an' cheap at that." Morley raised his eyebrows. "For the shack, some bits of furniture, cracked crockery, and old pots and pans?"

"Yo're forgettin' the trade." The banker repeated what the marshal had told him, and walked from room to room, appraising the contents. When he was satisfied, he turned to the vendor.

"One hundred and fifty--cash, and dear at that," he said shortly.

Take glared. "I can do better."

"Suits me," the other replied indifferently, and turned tc go. "To-morrow my price will be one hundred only." Mullins gave in; he was no match for the financier. Already he had sounded every possible purchaser and met with refusal.

"Hold on," he said. "It's sheer robbery, but I'll go you. I wanta take the trail to-night." Morley found the marshal in his office, and showed him the document.

"Good work," Sudden told him, and reached for a pocket.

"That can wait. Now, we have to put this thing over so as not to hurt the little lady's self-respect. I have a scheme, but perhaps you'd like to explain it to her yourself?"

"Not on yore life," the marshal said hastily. "I ain't used to women--I'd make a botch of it." The young widow welcomed the banker with a smile; she liked this grey-haired, sedate little man who had been well spoken of by her uncle.

"I hear your trade is increasing," he opened.

"Thanks to some good friends," she said.

"No, largely to your own efforts," he corrected. "But there are complaints." A look of concern replaced the smile. "Oh, not about your cooking, but the accommodation."

"The room only holds four," she murmured regretfully. "But what can I do?"

"A favour to Welcome, and to me," he replied. "Mullins is leaving in a few hours for good--our good, and I've purchased his business, lock, stock, and barrel. I want you to move in there." Her eyes shone, but she shook her head. "It would be fine, but I couldn't afford it."

"All you'll have to pay will be a small rent to me," he pointed out. "Won't you give it a trial?"

"But of course," she cried. "It's a chance I've longed for, and I don't know how to thank you." The banker stood up. "Well, that's settled, and I'm glad. This town will have a feeding-place to be proud of."

"I'll do my best," she promised.

That evening, in the Red Light, Nippen drew Sudden aside. "Jake's went, an' it's all over Welcome that Mrs. Gray is takin' over his eatin'-house. It's a blame' good move, an' I s'pose we have to thank you for it?"

"No, Sloppy, though he don't want it knowed."

"Where did he git the money?"

"He didn't; I fixed that with Morley," the marshal explained, and told of the arrangement the banker had made.

"First-rate," Nippert agreed, and then, "Jim, havin' found yore friend, you ain't thinkin' o' goin' back to Pine-town?"

"Where they wanted to hang me?" The saloon-keeper had a sense of humour. "But we damn' near did it," he grinned ruefully.

Sudden laughed too. "Allasame, I'm stayin' put; the trees is too handy in Pinetown."

"An' Masters?" The marshal's face sobered. "I dunno. Mebbe he'll get a job with the Bar O; Owen seemed to like him."

"I've bin thinkin' you need a deputy."

"It's mighty good o' yu, Ned, but it would be just charity."

"I forgot to mention when you took hold that we'd had a couple o' marshals bumped off in twelve months."

"I knew--Gowdy's girl told me."

"You certainly fetched yore nerve along," Nippert said. "Well, you may figure you got this town tamed, an' mebbe that goes for two-thirds of it, but the rest is a craggy lot; they'll fear you, but bein' scared of a man don't make you love him, none whatever. Mullins has gone, with some o' the worst, but he's left friends behind, an' he ain't forgettin'. Nor will Sark, an' he's got poison 'stead o' blood in his veins." Sudden gave in. "Awright, Ned," he replied. "yu know the people an' yo're the doc. O' course, I'll be tickled to death to have Dave workin' with me." At that moment the man himself came up. "Yu both look as solenn as owls," he grinned. "Must be discussin' some-thin' serious."

"No, we were talkin' 'bout yu," his friend countered. "Fact is, Ned thinks I oughta have a deputy, an' he's suggestin' yu."

"If Mister Masters will take it," the saloon-keeper put in politely.

"Mister Masters won't, but Dave will, with both han's," was the smiling reply. "But not till after to-morrow; I've somethin' to do."

"What fool-play yu got in mind now?" Sudden wanted to know."

"Me an' Sloppy is goin' to make a yaller dawg's kennel into a fit place for a lady to live in," Dave replied lightly.

Two weeks went by, and Welcome--the principal disturber of its calm having departed--had returned to everyday routine-existence.

The first whisper of unrest came when Reddy rode in one morning. He was the only Bar O man to visit town since the dash to the marshal's rescue, and was therefore ignorant of subsequent events.

"Yu'll feed with us at Jake's," Sudden invited.

"I eat at the Widow's," Reddy replied.

"That's what I said," was the enigmatical retort.

He got the story as they walked up the street. Arrived at the restaurant, he surveyed approvingly the newly-painted sign, clean curtains, and absence of rusty airtights littering the ground. The interior with its scrubbed floor, neatly-laid tables, and sound chairs, opened his eyes wider, but he said nothing until the proprietress came to take the order.

"There ain't such a swell joint inside a day's ride," he told her. "Reckon Jake would bite hisself if he could see it."

"I had some kind helpers," she said, her eyes on Dave.

"They did the work; I'm afraid I was only in the way."

"That's somethin' yu couldn't be, ma'am," was the gallant reply.

The meal duty despatched, they lit up. Reddy's gaze roved round the room.

"Amazin' what a difference a woman can make," he remarked. "She owes a lot to yu, Jim."

"She owes me just--nothin'; Sloppy's been her good fairy."

"An' yu've bin his, which proves my point," Reddy retorted triumphantly.

Sudden shook his head and got up. Back in his own quarters, he put a question :

"What's yore trouble, cowboy?"

"yu've certainly got the seem' eye, Jim; I didn't guess it showed that plain. Just--want o' sleep." It seemed an absurd statement from one who was the picture of health, but the marshal understood. "Nightridin', huh?"

"yu said it, an' day as well; the boys is all wore out. Yu see, we're losin' cattle, an' it's gettin' serious."

"Been goin' on long?"

"Couple o' weeks, so far as we know. A steady leak, six or seven a day, picked beasts, an' there ain't a sign to show who's takin' 'em or where. It's got me dizzy."

"Well, there's nothin' doin' here---- "

"Yo're forgettin' that hold-up we promised to look into," Dave interrupted.

The marshal grinned. "Don't pay any attention to him," he went on. "We ain't a thing to do--the town's peaceful as a prayer-meetin'. We'll go for a li'l ride to-morrow; mebbe we can light on somethin'." When the foreman had departed, Dave looked at his chief. "Jake went about two weeks ago," he said.

"Yo're readin' my thoughts," Sudden accused. "If it's Jake, he must have a hide-out. We gotta find it."

"We might be away all day. What 'bout gettin' Mrs. Gray to put us up a bite to take along?"

"Just now my mind ain't on food."

"Then it must be drink. C'mon." When they got outside, Masters naturally turned in the direction of the Red Light, but his companion shook his head. "We'll pay a visit to Dirty Dick," he said.

"Enemy country," Dave laughed, and loosened his gun in the holster.

"Shucks ! At this' time o' the day there won't be a soul in the place--mebbe." He was almost right, for as they pushed back the door of the dive, they saw that it was empty save for the owner and a man who, at the instant of their entry, slid round the bar and disappeared into the rear part of the premises.

"Whisky--yore best," the marshal said. "Wasn't that Dutch who went out?" For a moment Dirty Dick hesitated, his furtive eyes scanning the questioner's face. Then he nodded.

"What's he back for--to stay?"

"Nope, just a visit, to pay some coin he owed me."

"Why didn't he do that before he left?"

"He forgot," came the reply, after a pause.

"Yo're lucky to get it."

"Oh, Dutch is square," the man said easily.

"Possibly, but he keeps bad company," the marshal replied. "What's he doin', anyway?"

"I dunno, but he ain't got a woman workin' for him," was the insolent answer.

A subdued chuckle came from somewhere; the deputy stiffened, put his glass on the bar, and said truculently, "The company he keeps ain't near as bad as the liquor yu sell; if this is yore best, the worst must be rank pizen."

"You ain't forced to drink it." Sudden interposed. "Easy, boy," he soothed, and to the dive-owner, "Watch that lyin' tongue o' yores, an' run this place decent or I'll run yu--outa town." Dirty Dick gazed into the hard, slitted eyes of the speaker and decided that silence was the safe card to play, but his expression, as they went out, was not pretty.

As they stalked down the street, Sudden regarded his fuming companion quizzically. "Marshals are appointed to keep the peace," he remarked casually. "An' the same applies t `Didn't yu hear what he said, an' the laugh?" Dave broke in.

"Shore, but why lose yore wool because a cur yaps? Besides, he was tellin' us things. We know now that Dutch was broke when he left an' has made money since; also that Jake ain't far away, an' is keepin' touch with friends here, which needs rememberin'. Good value for the price of a couple o' drinks." The sun was no more than faintly gilding the eastern sky when they set out the next morning. The Bar O trail lay towards it, but the marshal headed his horse in the opposite direction.

"Where are we turnin' off?" Dave asked presently. "Yu, ain't expectin' to find them stolen steers at the Dumb-bell, are yu?"

"It wouldn't surprise me--much, but we gotta know more before we snoop aroun' there; welcomes can be too warm." Another half-mile and they swung south, leaving the rutted wagon-track and picking a way through brush big enough to hide them. Two hours passed before they reached a wooded slope which afforded a view of the country, an undulating, scrub-dotted expanse which they knew must be part of the Bar O range, though no cattle were visible.

Westward, were ridges and gullies, and as these offered excellent cover, they decided to make for them. Skirting the plain, they were proceeding along the far slope of a brush-clad rib of rock when a rifle cracked and a bullet zipped through the crown of Dave's Stetson. Out of their saddles instantly, they trailed the reins, and crawled to the top of the rib. Thinning smoke from a clump of brush some threehundred yards distant told them whence the shot had come, but there was no sign of the man who fired it.

"Lie low," Sudden advised. "He may think he got yu an' show hisself. Might be one o' the Bar O--I'll bet their system just now is shoot first an' investigate after." Hats discarded, prone on their bellies, cheeks cuddling rifle-stocks, they waited. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes ticked slowly by and nothing happened. Dave got restive.

"This hlame' sun is just naturally scorchin' my scalp," he grumbled. "I reckon he's went." He reached for the hat lying behind him and immediately two reports came from the clump, the leaden messengers humming past their ears. They returned the fire, aiming at the smoke-jets.

"A pair of 'em," the marshal commented. "Guess they ain't Owen's men." Another period of quiet ensued, and the marshal used it to take a furtive scrutiny of their surroundings. This gave him an idea.

"Stay an' keep 'em interested. I'm goin' to try an' get another angle on 'em. If yu fire, make it two quick shots so's they'll figure we're both here."

"Right, but don't take chances; these hombres ain't usin' guns for the first time," Dave warned.

Sudden slid backwards down the slope and, leading his horse, followed the bend of it. He had not gone far when four shots rang out, the last two in rapid succession. Dave was right. Presently he paused, crept up the incline on hands and knees, and took a peep between two large stones. As he had suspected, the brush rampart behind which the unknown marksmen were concealed was much thinner on this side, and he could see the gleam of a levelled gun-barrel. He fired, aiming where he judged the holder should be, and a dark form showed itself and vanished before he could press the trigger again. A moment later, two horsemen burst into the open, and, flattened over the necks of their mounts, raced for the nearest gully. Sudden's rifle spoke again and one of the animals went down, throwing its rider heavily. The other man, without even a backward glance, gained cover. By the time Sudden reached the fellow who had fallen, Dave joined him.

"So yu nailed one," he said.

"He's on'y stunned--the hoss got the lead. Take charge of him. I'm goin' after his mate." He had marked down the spot where the fugitive had disappeared, and for a little while, hoofprints--the deep ones of urgent haste--helped him, and then, as he came on harder ground, a dangling, freshly-broken branch pointed the way. But no more of these tell-tale signs presented themselves, until, circling round, he found the prints again, only to lose them on the bank of a creek, thickly fringed with willow and cottonwood.

Arguing that the man would go westwards, he followed the stream in that direction, and was presently confronted by an insurmountable barrier, a wall of rock nearly thirty feet in height, over which the water cascaded in a broad sheet which the sun turned to molten silver. Trees hemmed in the fall, and for some distance from the wall, the ground was weathered stone, a surface upon which to search for tracks could only be a waste of time. In ordinary circumstances, the marshal would have admired the natural beauty of the spot, but now he surveyed it with disgust.

"Hang the luck," he muttered. "A cat couldn't climb up there, an' it's a hell of long way round, seemin'ly. Mebbe we can persuade the other jasper to talk." Convinced that he could do no more, he returned to Dave. The prisoner, who had regained consciousness, was squatting on the ground, weaponless, his elbows neatly trussed with his own rope.

"Most unsocial beggar I ever met up with," the deputy remarked. "Won't give no name, so I've christened him Pock-mark.' His hoss is unbranded, an' there's nothin' suspicious 'bout him 'cept his looks an'--this."

"A straight-iron, huh?" the marshal said. "Well, that's enough to hang him. Yu'd best find yore tongue, fella."

"What right you got to down my bronc an' tie me up?" the stranger demanded.

Sudden flipped open his vest, disclosing the badge. "Plenty," he replied. " 'Specially as yu opened the ball by tryin' to bump us off. What's yore business around here?" Receiving no reply, he added, "P'r'aps the Bar O can loosen your lips." Fear flickered in the sullen eyes, but the said lips were only clamped the tighter.

"Why bother Owen when there's a mort o' good trees right here?" Dave asked, with studied callousness. "S'pose we feed an' think it over?" Sitting a little apart, so that their conversation could not be heard, they began the meal the Widow had provided. The prisoner watched enviously.

"Don't I eat?" he asked querulously.

"Yu gotta find another use for yore mouth first," the marshal replied.

"An' remember that dyin' on an empty stomach is a mighty dangerous thing to do," Dave supplemented.

His solicitude earned him only a scowl. They finished eating, smoked a cigarette, and made a start, the prisoner walking between the riders. The sun's rays had now become shafts of fire, and since their way led across the open range, there was no respite for man or beast. Mile after mile through the blinding heat the man on foot stumbled doggedly until they had covered two-thirds of the journey, and then he dropped like a stone.

"I'm all in," he gasped, through parched, cracked lips. "Have a swig at this," Dave said, passing his water-bottle.

The sufferer drank eagerly, and after sitting for a while, stood up. Rustler or no, he was possessed of a stubborn determination, and Sudden--who had forced this ordeal upon him in the hope of breaking down his obstinacy--began to doubt its success. Fists and teeth clenched, eyes half-shut, and body limp with fatigue, the tortured man dragged one blistered foot after the other until at length the Bar O building came in sight. A hail brought the owner, Reddy, and some of the outfit.

"'Lo, marshal, what you got there?" Owen asked.

Sudden explained, and the rancher's face grew dark. "Good," he said, and turned to the prisoner. "What you gotta say?"

"Nothin'."

"Right. You've till sunrise; if you ain't opened up hy then, you swing. Lock him up, Reddy."

"Yu think he'll squeal?" Sudden asked. "That tramp would 'a' busted the nerve o' most; he's tough."

"A hemp rope is tougher," the rancher replied. "Pity the other got away."

"He certainly chose the right place," the marshal admitted, and described it.

"Ah, the Silver Mane fall, plenty o' hidin' there."

"He would 'a' tried to pot me."

"That's so. Well, I dunno how he got clear; that barrier --which we call The Step--runs for a mile or more each side o' the stream, an' she's straight up, 'cept at the south end."

"What's back of it?"

"Sort of plateau, with some biggish cracks. The Step is my western boundary; past it is Dumh-bell range, but they don't use it, the feed bein' poor." When they got up to go, the cattleman pressed them to stay the night, but Sudden shook his head.

"Gotta make a show o' earnin' our pay," he smiled.

On the way back, the marshal was unusually silent. In truth, his mind was far away on the Mexican Border. There, too, what appeared to be a simple case of cattle-rustling, had uncovered a deep-laid plot to steal a range, and he was wondering ...

Chapter IX

THE marshal and his assistant were enjoying an after-breakfast smoke when a pony scuttered to a stop outside and the Bar O foreman strode in. He had not shaved, and his customary cheerful expression was missing. Dropping into a seat, he began to construct a cigarette.

"He's gone," he announced, and added a fervent wish as to the delinquent's ultimate destination. "Helped hisself to a hoss--one o' my string, blister his hide."

"But " both the hearers began.

"Listen," he interrupted. "I left him tied as he was, locked in a cabin with a window less'n a foot square. When I goes to fetch him this mornin' the door is still fastened, but the place is empty."

"Who kept the key?"

"There ain't but one an' the 01' Man had it," Reddy replied. "An' is he wild?"

"Can't see there's anythin' to be done, but we'll come along with yu," the marshal decided.

They found the Bar O in an unwonted state of inactivity; the men were grouped round the bunkhouse discussing the mystery, and the owner was impatiently striding to and fro, awaiting Reddy's return. He welcomed the visitors with an explosive oath :

"Shinin' hell, here's a fine kettle o' fish. After all the trouble you an' Dave went to, we go an' lose the skunk, though how he got out beats me."

"Where'd yu put him?" Sudden asked.

The foreman led the way to a stout little log structure, the door of which was secured by a padlock and staple. Sudden looked closely at the latter, slipped a finger through it, pulled, and the staple came away in his hand.

"There's the key that was used," he said, pointing to a rusty iron bar lying a few yards away. "That means he had outside help. S'pose none o' yu heard anythin' in the night?" A negative came from all save one, a man nearing forty, whose dark hair and beard were patched with grey.

"Now you mention it, mister, I did hear the whicker of a hoss, but I reckoned it come from the corral," he said. "If I'd thought it was this sneakin' houn' escapin' ..."

"Shorely," Sudden agreed, and to the rancher, "No sense in keepin' yore fellas here--the bird has flown." Having despatched the men to their various duties, Reddy joined the other three indoors.

"Well, you've showed us how he got loose, but we don't know who made it possible," Owen said. "Any ideas 'bout that, Jim?"

"There's on'y two answers : either his buddy trailed us an' waited for dark, or--it was one o' yore outfit."

"You can wipe out that last; my boys are loyal--every damn' one o' them," the rancher asserted.

"I ain't sayin' otherwise--just statin' facts. That hombre who heard the hoss now, has he been with yu long?"

"Pinto?--they call him that 'count of his piebald hair--why, no, a matter o' three-four months, but he was the sickest of any over this getaway."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Sudden asked.

"What do you think, Reddy?" Owen asked.

"I got nothin' agin Pinto," the foreman admitted. "He don't quite mix in, but I put that down to his bein' older'n most of us. He's no shirker on his job."

"Dessay I'm wrong," the marshal said. "But a stranger couldn't 'a' knowed he would have a staple to deal with an' fetched along just the thing to beat it." Meanwhile, a conversation was taking place not many miles distant. On the other side of The Step, south of the fall, the plateau--by some fantastic freak of Nature--was broken by a great fissure, narrow and steep-sided, the bottom hidden by a seemingly impenetrable jumble of boulders, trees, and dense brush. This was Dark Canyon, the overhangingwalls fully justifying the name. It was never used, being difficult to enter, and without an exit. At the nearer end to The Step, Mullins, Javert, and five others were sitting round the embers of a fire. The man with the pitted face was finishing his story :

"An' if it hadn't bin for Pinto, I'd likely be dancin' on nothin' right now."

"Bah ! O' course you'd 'a' squealed." This from Javert. Pocky glared at him. "Yo're a dirty liar," he rasped. "I never sold a pal yet."

"Have it yore way," the gambler returned carelessly. "I'll bet Owen was bluffin', anyway."

"You'd lose--he ain't that sort. If he promises to stretch a fella's neck he'll do it, regardless. It's a good thing I planted a friend at the Bar O." Javert sneered. "You foresaw this happenin', huh?"

"No, I put Pinto there to keep me posted on the movements o' the cowboys an' cattle," Jake replied. "I've had this game in mind for months; it's easy money."

"Yeah, an' damn' little of it. A few cows, which we gotta sell for half their value."

"If it ain't worth yore while you got a simple remedy," Jake reminded. "This is on'y a beginnin'--there's other ranges in reach."

"A lot o' hard work for two-three hundred bucks, an' risk our necks at that. We couldn't lose more if we made it thousands."

"What you drivin' at?"

"This cattle rustlin' is chicken-feed, just keeps us in grub an' smokin'. Why not try where there's real money, scads of it. A bank, say?" He saw at once that he had regained the ground he had lost in the recent quarrel, for the eyes of his companions gleamed avariciously at his audacious proposal. Even their leader could put forward no objection.

"I think you got somethin' there," he said. "0I' Morley must carry a lot o' coin at times, an' there's on'y him an' his missis on the premises. It would square my little account with him."

"An' give some o' them Welcome hucksters a pain in the breakfast," Javert added viciously.

"We'll do it," Mullins decided. "But we gotta pick the right night. Dutch, ain't I seen young Evans, Morley's clerk, in Dirty Dick's?"

"Shore, he dasn't go to the Red Light; Bob has threatened to fire him if he does."

"That's fine. You slide in this evenin', git hold o' that boy, an' pump him dry, casual-like, o' course. Then we can make our plans. Now, them steers we lifted last night need attention, an', Pocky, don't forget to blot the brand o' that hoss you took in exchange for yore own; she's a dead giveaway." On that same afternoon, Mary Gray had a surprise when Jesse Sark dismounted outside her establishment, hitched his horse, and entered. She was alone, clearing up after the last of her midday customers. Sark cast an appraising eye round the rehabilitated eating-house, and a remembrance of what it had been forced a compliment even from his reluctant lips.

"My word, Mary, but you've certainly worked wonders," he said. "I must see if yore cookin' grades up to the layout --if you'll serve me."

"That's what I'm here for," she replied coldly.

He had been drinking, and his eyes watching her vanish into the kitchen, were covetous. Happiness and motherhood had made her more physically attractive, accentuating the curves of her youthful body, which her simple black dress set off perfectly. He devoured the food she set before him with greedy appreciation, and then, calling her over, said, with a leer :

"That was fine. If, as they say, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, all the fellas in this burg oughta be sweet on you.""I like to please my customers."

"Mebbe, but it's no work for a woman such as youservin' grub to tradesmen an' cow-wrastlers, spoilin' them pretty han's."

"I am happy here," she replied steadily. "I don't mind earning my living."

"There's an easier way. The of man treated you mean; get the laugh on him by comin' back to the Dumb-bell. I'll give you everythin' you want." It was some seconds before the utter infamy of the suggestion come home, draining the blood from her cheeks, and turning her to ice.

"How dare you?" she cried.

"Don't be a fool, m'dear," he said. "I've took a fancy to you an' am willin' to pay a high price--even marriage--if that's what you're bogglin' over, in spite o' the tale I heard at Dirty' Dick's."

"What do you mean?"

"That the marshal set you up here."

"Dirty Dick's is well named," she retorted bitterly. "This place belongs to Mister Morley, and I rent it from him. There are those in town who would kill you for repeating that lie."

"Which would shorely clinch it," he sneered. "Whereas, if you came to the Dumb-bell ... See here, I'm ready to take a chance on you. Figure it out: mistress of a big ranch, plenty o' money, fine clothes, servants to wait on you, an'--a good home for yore kid."

"I wouldn't wed you to save him from starvation," she replied fiercely.

The contempt in her voice stung him like a whip, lashing him to a fury of anger and desire. Snatching at her wrist, he held her captive. A savage jerk which nearly flung her off her feet enabled him to sweep his other arm around the slender waist and force the struggling body close to his. Held in that iron clutch, she could do nothing save make desperate efforts to evade the lips which were seeking her own.

"Sark!" The bully looked up to find Dave Masters only a couple of yards distant, face rigid, eyes of chilled steel, and his gun levelled.

"Stand away. I am goin' to kill yu." Mary Gray moved to his side. "Don't shoot, Dave," she pleaded. "Send him away--for my sake." The sound of her voice seemed to bring him to his senses. He shook his head as though to clear it of a mist through which he had been gazing.

"Yo're right, ma'am, he ain't worth the case of a ca'tridge," he muttered, and gesturing towards the door with his weapon, added, "March ! " The cattleman drew a long breath; he knew that only the girl's intervention had saved him, but he was not grateful. But neither was he prepared to take further risks, so he marched. Dave followed, and as the other threw back the door, gripped him by the back of the neck and, with a sudden thrust, sent him sprawling into the street, much to the edification of some passers-by who witnessed the ignominious exit. When, spitting curses and sand, he scrambled to his feet, he saw his assailant standing on the sidewalk, empty hands hanging down, eyes blazing.

"Thought yu was gittin' off easy, huh?" the cowboy gibed. "Pull yore gun, yu mongrel, an' go to the hell that's waitin' for yu." But Sark was in no mood to accept the invitation. Though the drink had died out, he was badly shaken. He contented himself with a threat:

"Yore account is pilin' up, fella, but don't you fret none --it'll be settled."

"Git some o' yore cattle-thieves to help you," Dave advised, and saw the furious eyes flicker.

He watched the man hoist himself into the saddle, grab the quirt hanging from the horn, and lash the beast into a frenzied gallop.

"Takin' it out'n the hoss," was his thought. "He would." He opened the door of the restaurant and peeped in. Its owner was seated at a table, face hidden in her hands.

"I dasn't go in," he said, unaware that he was speaking aloud, and closing the door gently, walked away, convinced she had not seen him.

But she had, and heard him too, and when she raised her head the wet eyes were shining. "Oh, Dave, you big, brave--coward," she murmured with a tremulous smile.

That evening, the marshal strolled into Dirty Dick's, and indifferent to the anything but welcome looks he received, ordered a drink, and scanned the company with apparent carelessness. One couple immediately interested him; seated at a table a little apart from the rest were Dutch and Evans, the banker's assistant. The latter, sucking at a rank cigar, and with a glass of spirit before him, had shown signs of perturbation when the officer entered.

"That's done it," he muttered. "He'll tell 01' Bob an' I'll get the air." Dutch, who was as little pleased at the intrusion, endeavoured to console him. "Mebbe he won't mention it," he said. "An' if he does, I can find you somethin' better to do than pushin' a pen--a man's job, with real money in it."

"That's mighty nice o' you, Dutch," was the reply. "Tied to a desk all day ain't much of a life."

"Yo're shoutin'--it'd give me the willies in a week," the other agreed, adding slyly, "See here, I can tell you how to shut the marshal's mouth, if need be." He whispered earnestly for a few moments, ceasing only when he became aware that the subject of their conversation had drawn near.

"Evans, I want a word with yu--outside." The youth hesitated, and then, with a poor attempt at bravado, emptied his glass and followed the officer into the fresh air. Sudden came to the point at once.

"How come yu to be in that sink?"

"You were there yoreself."

"Don't fence with me, boy," Sudden said sternly. "Would Bob Morley approve o' yore frequentin' Dirty Dick's?"

"He don't buy my evenin's."

"Which is no answer to my question." The boy fidgeted with his feet, tried to draw inspiration from a cigar which had lost its savour, and furtively let it fall.

"You don't have to tell him, do you?"

"It's my duty," the marshal said doubtfully.

"Promise not to, an' I'll put you wise to somethin' important," Evans replied eagerly. "Is it a deal?"

"I make no bargains in the dark, but I've never been accused o' bein' ungrateful." The clerk gave in; this man--whom he secretly admired as being all he would have liked to be--was too strong for him.

"There's goin' to be a big raid on the Bar O," he blurted. "They figure to burn the buildings, shoot down the outfit, an' drive off the cattle. It's to be to-morrow night."

"Who is `they'?" the marshal asked, wondering how far his informant's power of invention would carry him_ "I dunno--the fella who told me "

"Meanin' Dutch."

"Well, yes, but he ain't in it," Evans replied. "He's workin' over to Drywash, an' got to hear accidental. He reckons it's a gang from 'way up in the hills, an' they'll outnumber the Bar O unless Welcome lends a hand."

"Why didn't he come to me?"

"He was meanin' to, but when you come in, he thought "

"Yu could buy my silence, huh? Well, it's a fine story; I didn't guess Dutch had that much imagination. However, I'm sayin' nothin' to yore employer, on one condition, that yu keep clear o' that dive from now on; mixin' with Dutch an' his like will on'y land yu in the penitentiary--or worse."

"I'll promise," Evans replied. "But marshal, I ain't lyin' about what Dutch told me, an' I'm certain he meant it. He said he hadn't no quarrel with the Bar O, an' didn't want to see strangers put one over on 'em." Sudden returned to his quarters in a thoughtful frame of mind. The boy's parting words had been spoken earnestly, but he could not conceive a member of Jake's ruffianly crew being anxious to prevent disaster befalling Owen's ranch, even though the blow was to come from outsiders. Had the fellow fallen out with his friends and turned traitor? That was possible, but unlikely, since Dutch appeared to have nothing to gain. Or was it, after all, a mere fabrication, concocted by Evans, under the spur of necessity?

"Damn it, anyway yu look, it don't make sense," was the conclusion of his meditations.

Chapter X

SUDDEN, rising with his problem still unsolved, took Dave and Sloppy into his confidence over the morning meal. The pair looked at him in puzzled bewilderment.

"What's yore trouble?" the younger man asked. "There ain't but one thing we can do : take a dozen o' the boys to the Bar O an' give them cattle-thieves a real big surprise. Ain't that yore notion too, Sloppy?"

"Shore looks thataway," the little man agreed. "But ..." He paused, his speculative gaze on the marshal.

"That's the snag--but," Sudden said. "Every way I figure, I run up against it. The obvious move ain't allus the right one. Dutch don't like me none a-tall; why should he put me wise when he'd ruther I fell down on my job?" His companions could find no answer to this, and he supplied one himself :

"It might be that he just wants to make a fool o' me. Well, I'm stayin' put."

"Yu won't help the Bar O?" Dave said earnestly. "Damn it, Jim, we owe them that."

"I know, but I don't think they'll need us. I'll ride over myself an' warn 'em to be on the look-out. It ain't no use arguin', boy; I've got a hunch an' I'm playin' it, right or wrong." Masters shook his head, unconvinced, but Sloppy appeared to be satisfied--the marshal's word was his law. Together they walked up the street.

"I don't like it," Dave remarked. "It'll seem we've run out on Owen."

"Jim's got savvy," was all the consolation he received. They found the Widow busy and cheerful. She thanked the deputy very prettily, and excused her cousin.

"He had been drinking," she said. "Men are not responsible then."

"It's mighty hard to figure him a close relation o' yores," Dave remarked.

"He's scarcely that," she corrected, and with a smile, "but he was certainly too close yesterday." The allusion brought a swift frown to the cowboy's face. "If he pesters yu again there's liable to be a bereavement in yore family," he told her.

Meanwhile, the marshal was on his way to the Bar O. He found the owner just about to set out.

"Step inside," he invited. "I guess you didn't come just for the pleasure o' seein' me."

"Why not?" Sudden smiled. "Allasame, I've news--of a kind." Seated in one of the big chairs, he told what he had learned. Owen received the narrative in silence. Only when the marshal came to his own proposed inaction did he speak:

"you ain't believin' it?"

"No, I suspect a trap--to get me outa town.""What for?"

"I wish yu could tell me. Dave is sore, he reckons I'm playin' it low down on yu."

"Rubbish ! " the rancher said. "You ain't paid to safeguard the Bar O; that's up to us an' I guess we can do it, but any suggestion will be welcome."

"Have four or five men, spaced out, watching yore western line to give warnin'--they'll come in from that side. The rest o' yu can wait here. Keep a man with a fast hoss ready to head for Welcome. I expect yu can stand 'em off till we make it. Got plenty gun-fodder?"

"you bet, an' the ranch-house is loop-holed," Owen replied. "That's a good plan, Jim; I'll fix it so. I'm obliged."

"Shucks ! If yu do get a visit, I'll feel pretty mean. By the way, I wouldn't pick Pinto as a sentry."

"Still suspectin' him?"

"I got nothin' to go on, but there it is."

"Seen any more o' Sark?" Owen asked.

"He was in yestiddy, an' didn't add any to his popularity." The rancher listened with an expression of growing disgust to the eating-house incident. "Good for Dave," he commented. "But he'll have to watch out; Jesse ain't particular how he pays debts."

"He'd better settle mine first," Sudden said, with a wintry smile, and, inconsequently, "Was Amos raisin' cattle around here before yu?"

"Some years earlier, but there was plenty range, an' we never had any differences."

"Yu chose a nice convenient brand--for him, didn't yu?"

"How so?"

"Lengthen yore bar, put an O at the near end, an' yu have a passable Dumb-bell."

"That's so," Owen admitted. "Now I'll tell you some-thin'. Amos Sark's brand was Circle S, but when Jesse took over he made the change. I didn't give it a thought, we've never suffered from brand-blottin' in these parts."

"Mebbe, but you're losin' cattle, an' it's worth bearin' in mind."

"I'll warn the boys to keep their eyes open."

"Some of 'em," Sudden advised. "There ain't allus safety in numbers."

"I'll respect yore prejudices, marshal," the rancher replied. "I allow Pinto ain't a young gal's dream o' manly beauty, but hard looks don't mean much."

"Yu didn't see the one he gave me," Sudden smiled.

Satisfied that he had done all he could, he set out for home. With but a mile to go, he noticed horse-tracks branching away to the left of the trail he was travelling. Few in number, they showed that a rider had come and gone several times. Was this the way Dutch slipped into the settlement? He had no means of knowing, but decided to find out where they led to.

This was simple enough in the open, for the unknown had made no attempt to conceal his passage, but presently the tracker found himself amongst dense brush, and the task became harder. But Sudden could read signs like an Indian; a faint indentation, a dislodged stone, or a bruised leaf were plain as print to his keen eye. The sun told that he was travelling south-west and must, in time, arrive near the spot where they had encountered the rustlers. So he was not surprised when, after an hour of painstaking labour, he emerged from a shallow ravine to hear the roar of tumbling water. Two hundred yards distant was a double line of willows, and in front an arid stretch of gravel on which the tracks were utterly lost. He waded the creek and searched the far bank, but without success. Then he rode south along The Step, noting how the wall of rock dwindled in height until it was possible to cross.

"If they come, it'll likely be this way," he mused. "Well, Nig, what we want now is a shorter trail to Welcome." The afternoon was well advanced when he returned; he had found his trail and memorized every salient feature.

Tired and hungry, he found his deputy in a fractious mood. "What's John Owen thinkin' of us?" he inquired.

"He said I was doin' the right thing."

"Seems to 'a' taken yu a long time to convince him."

"Oh, we had to make arrangements, an' on the way back I had a look around."

"See any doubtful characters?" Dave asked sarcastically.

"Not till I got here," his friend grinned, and then, "Let's go an' lift a few honest dollars from Nippert--he's got too many, but first, we'll saddle the hosses."

"Whyfor?"

"To keep their backs warm, o' course," Sudden laughed. "Also, if anythin' breaks loose to-night we might need 'em in a hurry. Owen may send word." At the Red Light, Sudden told the saloon-keeper what he had done and certain citizens were warned to be ready for instant action. When, after an evening of modest poker, the marshal and his deputy retired to their quarters, they did not undress.

Two hours after midnight found Welcome asleep. There was no moon, and the indifferent light of the stars showed the buildings only as deeper blobs in the general darkness. Then, into this silent stillness, entering from the eastern end of the town, came the shadows of mounted men, moving slowly, cautiously, one behind the other. Eight in number, they rode noiselessly along the street, the soft sand deadening the footfalls of their steeds. Each had a bandana, slitted for the eyes, covering his features. When they reached the bank, four of them got down and stepped swiftly to the side door. The others took charge of the horses, and sat waiting, rifles across their knees. The leader rapped softly. After a pause, a voice from inside asked :

"Who is it?"

"Open up, Bob," the stranger replied gruffly. "I'm from Nippert." Apparently the answer was satisfactory; bolts were withdrawn and through the slightly-opened door came the light of a flickering candle; behind it, the peering face of the banker. At the sight of the masked man, he made a desperate attempt to close the door again, but the other had flung his weight upon it, levelling his revolver at the same moment.

"One yap'll be yore last," he warned. "Stan' back, or ..." Morley knew that he was helpless; his nearest neighbours were thirty yards distant, and would be asleep. He obeyed, and watched the four bandits file in, closing the door behind them. Then the leader turned to him.

"Unlock yore safe," he said. "An' be spry about it." This was too much. The banker was an old man, but an obstinate one, with a sense of duty to those who had trusted him; these scoundrels might rob him, but he was not going to make it easier.

"you'll get no help from me," he replied, and when the ruffian gripped him by the throat, forced him to his knees, and swung his pistol aloft, added, "Shoot, damn you, and rouse the place." The threatened shot did not come. Instead, the barrel of the weapon dropped, with savage, merciless venom on the bent grey head, toppling the victim to the floor with a gashed, bleeding skull. The striker snatched up the still-lighted candle and surveyed the senseless man with malignant satisfaction.

"Guess we can help ourselves," he snarled. "That pays a score anyway. Last time we did business together it was yore turn; now it's mine. I'll trouble you for yore keys, friend." On his knees beside the stricken man, he was searching the pockets when a gasp of horror made him glance up; the banker's wife, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, was staring at the scene.

"Gag her--quick," he ordered.

One of them clapped a hand over her lips, choking the cry in her throat, while another whipped the shawl from her shoulders, muffled her head with it, and then bound her wrists and ankles.

"Lucky I fetched along these piggin strings," he chuckled, as he completed the brutal task. "She won't bother us." Jake stood up. "Here's the keys," he said. "C'mon, we gotta work fast." They followed him into the business part of the premises and soon the safe was at their mercy. A leathern satchel lay near it.

"That's just what we want," Jake grinned. "Thoughtful o' Bob to provide it." With coarse jests they packed bags of coin and packets of currency into the receptacle, and having cleared the safe of all that was of any use to them, were about to rummage the drawers and desks when two rapid pistol-shots rang out.

"What th' hell's that mean?" Jake asked.

"A signal from the boys," Javert suggested.

"Then they must be loco," was the reply. "We'll beat it; I reckon we've cleaned the place." As they hurried to the door, the leader glanced suspiciously at the supine figures on the floor, but neither appeared to have moved.

"Who fired them shots?" he demanded of the men outside.

"You tell us," one of the waiting group retorted. "They 'peared to come from inside."

"Couldn't have," Jake snapped. "None of us pulled trigger, Morley is as near dead as damn it, an' the of woman hawg-tied. Hell ! the town is wakin' up." It was true; lights were gleaming in several windows, doors opening, and men's voices could be heard.

"We gotta go--pronto," Jake decided, and turned to Dutch, who was carrying the plunder. "You know what to do. With the stuff safely hidden they can't prove a thing, even if they overtake us. Now, ride like the devil." Bunched together, with no further attempt at concealment, they shot into the open and, with a defiant yell, galloped away.

The two reports had found the marshal and his deputy on the alert, and they were the first to reach the street. Others soon joined them, some only half-dressed, but all carrying weapons, and asking the same question :

"What's the trouble?" Nobody knew, until the retreating raiders flashed into indistinct view for a few seconds, and then Sudden swore: "Damnation ! I might 'a' guessed it--the bank. Take some men an' get after 'em, Ned; mebbe yu can run 'em down."

"What are you goin' to do, Jim," Nippen asked.

"I've another plan--it's a chance an' no more. Dave, I'll need yu, but we'll have a look at the bank first." Leaving the saloon-keeper and his posse to take up the pursuit, the others hurried to the building, found the front door fastened and the side one open. The marshal stepped in and struck a match. At his feet was the candle the visitors had thrown down. Lighted, it revealed the prostrate body of the banker.

"Hurt had, but he'll pull round," Sudden announced, after a brief examination. "Lift an' carry him to the bedroom." As two of them raised the limp form a revolver clattered to the floor. Dave picked it up.

"A couple o' empty shells," he remarked. "Musta fired them shots what roused us hisself. Bravo, Bob." By this time the woman had also been found and released, but she was in a dead faint, and could give them no information. The gaping door of the safe told the rest of the story. The marshal drew his assistant aside.

"We can't do anythin' here--nothin' to go on," he said. "Let's take a ride." They got their horses and Sudden led the way eastwards until the settlement was behind them and then turned sharply to the left into a wilderness of scrub and small timber. Travelling through this in the darkness was a ticklish operation, but the marshal found a way, twisting and turning but --as his companion noticed--always coming back to a fixed line. Presently they reached a tract of pines, and the guide gave a grunt of satisfaction."There's my blaze," he said.

On the trunk of one tree, showing clearly in the gloom, was a white mark where a strip of bark had been slashed away with a knife.

"Yu been here afore?" Dave wanted to know.

"I spent some time searchin' out this trail on my way back yestiddy."

"For the love o' Mike, why?"

"We're goin' to find out," Sudden told him.

"Open up, yu clam. Nippert'll never catch 'em. What are we riskin' our necks an' hosses in this blasted brush for?" The reply was a question. "When yu rob a bank what's the first thing yu wanta do?"

"Why, yu black-haired misery," Dave began indignantly, and then laughed. "Me, I'm mighty eager to cache the coin, ain't yu?"

"That's the right answer, an' I'm gamblin' that these hombres will have the same notion. Now, if they come from the hills, they gotta cross The Step, an' their nearest point ain't far from where we lost that rustlin' gent. I've been lookin' the ground over." The next few miles were covered in silence. At intervals a blazed tree was passed, telling them they were on the right path, but the journey was taking longer than the marshal had expected; darkness had doubled the difficulty and made any attempt at speed impossible. So the grey light of dawn was streaking the eastern sky when they reached their destination--the stretch of gravelly ground. On the edge of this, screened by thick bushes, they drew rein.

"If my hunch is good, they'll come this way," the marshal said. "An Injun would lose their tracks on that stuff, an' there's more on the other side o' the creek; the place was made for fellas on the dodge." For a while they waited as patiently as might be, watching the stars pale and fade before the coming of the day. It was a wearisome business, for the morning air was chill, and they dared not smoke. Dave voiced the thoughts in both their minds:

"Mebbe we've missed 'em." Sudden raised a warning hand; his sharp ears had caught the snap of a twig away to their left. Soon came the pad of a trotting horse.

"On'y one, seemin'ly," Dave murmured perplexedly.

Both drew out their rifles. The sounds became clearer, and presently a horseman emerged from the undergrowth. In the half-light, they could see that his features were blotted out by a kerchief, and secured to the cantle of his saddle was a bulky package. Unhurriedly he began to cross the open space and was less than a hundred yards away when Sudden's voice rose above the rumble of the waterfall :

"Hold on, or we'll drop yu." They saw the violent start, the snatched look at the two men, who had now ridden out, and heard the curse which greeted their appearance. Grabbing a gun, the unknown sent two bullets whistling past their ears, and then--apparently realizing that in another moment they would be upon him --bent low in the saddle and spurred his mount remorselessly.

"If he gets to the stream we'll lose him like we did afore," Sudden said, and raised his rifle.

One shot, and the fugitive flung up his arms and pitched to the ground; the pony careered on. With scarce a glance at the sprawling form, the two men raced after the the runaway, and in a short space Sudden's loop settled over its head. Pulling the brute alongside, he thumped the package, and grinned with saturnine satisfaction when he heard the unmistakable clink of coin.

"That's the loot from the bank," he said. "Let's have a look at the fella they trusted with it." The man was lying on his face, but one glance told that he was dead; the bullet had broken his spine. Sudden turned the body over and removed the improvised mask.

"Dutch ! " he exclaimed. "Well, that's somethin' else I might 'a' guessed."

"Sorta points to Mullins, huh?"

"Yeah, but yu couldn't prove it. They left Welcome together, but it don't follow they stayed that way; Dutch may've gone to the hills on his own account. Well, gotta take him in, I s'pose." Roped across the back of his own horse the dead robber returned to Welcome. They stopped at the bank, where they found Nippert.

"We never saw hide nor hair of 'em," he said, in answer to the marshal's question. "An' when we lost the trail, there was nothin' for it but to come home."

"How's Bob?"

"He's got a busted head, but that'll mend, if he gives it a chance."

"I got the medicine to cure him," Sudden said. "They say money talks. Well, it shore does. Listen ! " He lifted the leather bag and smote it, once, twice. "Hear it?" The saloon-keeper's eyes popped out. "If you ain't the shinin' limit! This'll save Morley's life."

"Take it in to him," the marshal smiled. "Me an' Dave ain't slept since the last time--'bout a week ago, it seems. We'll see the of boy later." As he went out, a chalk-faced youth was climbing back on to his stool in the office. Sudden guessed he had seen the grisly sight outside, and went to him.

"Don't worry, son," he said. "I've fetched the stolen money back, an' yore boss will get well. Stay with yore job --there's worse ways o' earnin' a livin' than bankin'." Dumb with amazement and relief, Evans watched the tall, lithe figure swing into the saddle and ride down the street.

"Gawd, what a man," he murmured.

Chapter XI

JAKE and his band, having succeeded in eluding pursuit, made a wide detour to avoid the Bar O range, and reached the gully about the same time as the marshal and his deputy returned to Welcome. The absence of Dutch astonished them.

"What in hell can have delayed him?" Mullins muttered. "He's had time to cover the ground twice." Javert's face took on an ugly sneer. "Yeah, time to git to the California border, pretty near," was his reply.

"I've knowed Dutch a-many years an' he's straight," Jake defended. "He wouldn't play no pranks on me." None of the others appeared to partake of his confidence. In the excitement of carrying out the raid, Jake's plan for getting rid of the tell-tale spoils had seemed good, but now they began to doubt its wisdom; it was a temptation not one of them could have resisted. Nothing further was said, however, and having eaten, they waited sullenly for the advent of the missing messenger.

As the day wore on and brought no sign of him, the fear that they had been duped deepened. It was a bitter dis-- appointment; the whole enterprise had gone smoothly; a single coup had given them more wealth than a year of rustling would produce, and now . . .

"I hope yo're right," Javert shrugged. "Me, I'm goin' to catch up some sleep." He got his blanket, and, one by one, the others followed his example. Jake alone remained sitting by the fire, gazing into it morosely. Despite his bold front, he was desperately uneasy. What else could have happened? A rogue himself, he read the minds of his men, and was even now bitterly reproaching himself for not having done what they suspected.

It would have been simple, and with only two to share. ... The scrape of a hoof, and rattle of a rolling stone, recalled him to realities. He sprang up, crying :"He's here. What did I tell you?" The others flung aside their blankets and stood up, but the man who stumbled through the shadows and stepped into the glow of the fires was Pinto, the Bar O rider.

"Thought you was Dutch," Jake said disgustedly. "Hell ! "

"That's where you'll have to go if yo're wantin' him," the cowboy replied.

"You sayin' that Dutch is--dead?" Jake asked.

"Hope so, seem' as they've buried him," was the callous answer.

"Let's have a plain tale," Javert cried impatiently.

"Well, the marshal didn't fall into yore trap an' stayed to home. When you punched the breeze, he sent the posse after, but him an' his damned deputy made for the Silver Mane, shot down Dutch, an' toted his remainders, with the coin, back to Welcome. Who put him wise?"

"Nobody," Jake told him. "I didn't git the idea till we was in the bank; it seemed a good way o' playin' safe." This for the benefit of the Bar O man, whose face bore a palpable sneer. "How d'you hear?"

"Reddy brought the cheerful tidin's."

"Damnation! That tacks a label on us," Javert said.

"Not any," Jake corrected. "It ain't knowed where we are, or that Dutch stayed with me. I'd ride into Welcome to-day if I felt like it; they can't prove a thing."

"If you do, take a squint at yore of shack," Pinto advised. "Widow Gray is runnin' it, an' Reddy sez it's swell." The other's eyes narrowed. "So," he said harshly. "I shore will; in fact, I'll feed there."

"Step careful then. Reddy said Sark paid a visit, got fresh, an' was throwed out, neck an' crop."

"By that slip of a female?" asked an incredulous listener. "No, by young Masters, an' as him an' the marshal are ace-high about now, it might be dangerous." Jake frowned. "Sark, huh? What's his game?"

"She's a relation, an' quite a few think she oughta be ownin' the Dumb-bell. Marriage with her would stop that talk." This appeared to give Mullins food for thought; he was silent for a while. Then he dismissed the subject with a lift of his shoulders, and said briskly:

"Well, boys, I was right 'bout Dutch, you see--he played fair. We've lost this time, but there'll be others. What are the chances for a worth-while gather, Pinto?"

"Mighty slim--at present; the outfit is right on its toes, an' I have a hunch that cussed marshal has ideas 'bout me. I don't like them cold eyes--they gimme the feelin' he can read what's in my mind."

"He must be a medicine man to have knowed about Dutch," Pock-mark put in.

"Kid's talk," Jake said scornfully. "He guessed right, an' that's all there is to it. Awright, Pinto, we'll lie doggo till the Bar O is feelin' easy again. Better git back in case yo're missed."

"I'm night-ridin'--watchin' for you fellas," the man grinned, as he prepared to go. "Hang the luck! I'd bin hopin' to tell John Owen what I think of him, an' git my time."

"Which would 'a' showed pore sense," Mullins remarked. "Even if the bank deal had come off, we've a soft thing here, an' when the Bar O is good an' thinned, we'll have Sark where we want him."

"Hadn't looked at it thataway," Pinto admitted. "You got a head, Jake, but I'd like to see the last o' that marshal."

"He'll be taken care of," was the sinister assurance.