CHAPTER 15
The excitement kept Andrew awake for a little time, but then the hum ofthe wind, the roll of voices below him, and the weariness of the longride rushed on him like a wave and washed him out into an ebb of sleep.
When he wakened the aches were gone from his limbs, and his mind was ahappy blank. Only when he started up from his blankets and rapped hishead against the slanting rafters just above him, he was brought to apainful realization of where he was. He turned, scowling, and the firstthing he saw was a piece of brown wrapping paper held down by a shoe andcovered with a clumsy scrawl.
These blankets are yours and the slicker along with them and heres wishin you luck while youre beatin it back to civlizashun. your friend, JEFF RANKIN.
Andy glanced swiftly about the room and saw that the other bunks hadbeen removed. He swept up the blankets and went down the stairs to thefirst floor. The house reeked of emptiness; broken bottles, a twistedtin plate in which some one had set his heel, were the last signs of theoutlaws of Henry Allister's gang. A bundle stood on the table withanother piece of the wrapping paper near it. The name of Andrew Lanningwas on the outside. He unfolded the sheet and read in a precise, ratherfeminine writing:
Dear Lanning: We are, in a manner, sneaking off. I've already said good-by, and I don't want to tempt you again. Now you're by yourself and you've got your own way to fight. The boys agree with me. We all want to see you make good. We'll all be sorry if you come back to us. But once you've found out that it's no go trying to beat back to good society, we'll be mighty happy to have you with us. In the meantime, we want to do our bit to help Andrew Lanning make up for his bad luck.
For my part, I've put a chamois sack on top of the leather coat with the fur lining. You'll find a little money in that purse. Don't be foolish. Take the money I leave you, and, when you're back on your feet, I know that you'll repay it at your own leisure.
And here's best luck to you and the girl.
HENRY ALLISTER.
Andrew lifted the chamois sack carelessly, and out of its mouth tumbleda stream of gold. One by one he picked up the pieces and replaced them;he hesitated, and then put the sack in his pocket. How could he refuse agift so delicately made?
A broken kitchen knife had been thrust through a bit of the paper on thebox. He read this next:
Your hoss is known. So I'm leaving you one in place of the pinto. He goes good and he dont need no spurring but when you come behind him keep watching your step. your pal, LARRY LA ROCHE.
Blankets and slicker, money, horse. A flask of whisky stood on anotherslip of the paper. And the writing on this was much more legible.
Here's a friend in need. When you come to a pinch, use it. And when you come to a bigger pinch send word to your friend, SCOTTIE MACDOUGAL.
Andrew picked it up, set it down again, and smiled. On the fur coatthere was a fifth tag. Not one of the five, then, had forgotten him.
Its comin on cold, partner. Take this coat and welcome. When the snows get on the mountains if you aint out of the desert put on this coat and think of your partner, JOE CLUNE.
P.S.--I seen you first, and I have first call on you over the rest of these gents and you can figure that you have first call on me. J.C.
When he had read all these little letters, when he had gathered his lootbefore him, Andrew lifted his head and could have burst into song. Thismuch thieves and murderers had done for him; what would the good men ofthe world do? How would they meet him halfway?
He went into the kitchen. They had forgotten nothing. There was aquantity of "chuck," flour, bacon, salt, coffee, a frying pan, a cup,a canteen.
It brought a lump in his throat. He cast open the back door, and,standing in the little pasture, he saw only one horse remaining. It wasa fine, young chestnut gelding with a Roman nose and long, mulish ears.His head was not beautiful to see from any angle, but every detail ofthe body spelled speed, and speed meant safety.
What wonder, then, that Andrew began to see the world through a brightmist? What wonder that when he had finished his breakfast he sang whilehe roped the chestnut, built the pack behind the saddle, and filled thesaddlebags. When he was in the saddle, the gelding took at once thecattle path with a long and easy canter.
With his head cleared by sleep, his muscles and nerves relaxed, Andrewbegan to plan his escape with more calm deliberation than before.
The first goal was the big blue cloud on the northern horizon--a goodweek's journey ahead of him--the Little Canover Mountains. Among thefoothills lay the cordon of small towns which it would be his chiefdifficulty to pass. For, if the printed notices describing him werecirculated among them, the countryside would be up in arms, prepared tointercept his flight. Otherwise, there would be nothing but telephonedand telegraphed descriptions of him, which, at best, could only come tothe ears of a few, and these few would be necessarily put out by theslightest difference between him and the description. Such a vitaldifference, for instance, as the fact that he now rode a chestnut, whilethe instructions called for a man on a pinto.
Moreover, it was by no means certain that Hal Dozier, great trailerthough he was, would know that the fugitive was making for the northernmountains. With all these things in mind, in spite of the pessimism ofHenry Allister, Andrew felt that he had far more than a fighting chanceto break out of the mountain desert and into the comparative safety ofthe crowded country beyond.
He made one mistake in the beginning. He pushed the chestnut too hardthe first and second days, so that on the third day he was forced togive the gelding his head and go at a jarring trot most of the day. Onthe fourth and fifth days, however, he had the reward for his caution.The chestnut's ribs were beginning to show painfully, but he keptdoggedly at his work with no sign of faltering. The sixth day broughtAndrew Lanning in close view of the lower hills. And on the seventh dayhe put his fortune boldly to the touch and jogged into the first littletown before him.