Heart of the Sunset

  X

  A RANGER'S HORSE

  Onward through the dense foliage the two friends wound. Now and thenthey stopped to listen, but the rain was heavy enough to drown allother noises. Encountering fresh tracks finally, Dave leaned from hissaddle and studied them. What he saw caused him to push forward with nodiminution of stealth.

  He had gone perhaps half a mile when Bessie Belle raised her head, andhe noted that her nostrils were working sensitively. A few yardsfarther on Law fancied that he could detect the smell of a wood fire.Almost without a signal from him the mare halted in her tracks until hehad satisfied himself. Still farther along they came to a place wherethe brush was low, and there, rising through the tree-tops beyond, theysaw a wavering plume of blue smoke.

  The Ranger rode into sight of the branding-fire with his Winchesteracross his saddle-horn and his thumb upon the hammer; what followedcame with almost the blinding suddenness of a lightning crash, thoughafterward the events of that crowded moment lingered as a clear-cutmemory. First there was the picture of a sandy glade in the center ofwhich burned a fire with branding-irons in it, and a spotted calf tiedto a tree, but otherwise no sign of life. Then, without warning, BessieBelle threw up her head in that characteristic trick of hers, andsimultaneously Dave saw a figure rise out of the grass at his left withrifle leveled. The Ranger remembered afterward the odd foreshorteningof the weapon and the crooked twist of the face behind it. With thefirst jerk of his horse's head his own gun had leaped to hisshoulder--he was not conscious of having willed it to do so--and evenas he pressed the trigger he beheld a jet of smoke spurt from themuzzle aimed at him. With the kick of his carbine he felt Bessie Bellegive way--it seemed to Dave that he shot while she was sinking. Thenext instant his feet, still in the stirrups, were on the ground andhis horse lay between them, motionless. That nervous fling of her headhad saved Dave's life, for the rustler's bullet had shattered her skullin its flight, and she lay prone, with scarcely a muscular twitch, sosudden had been her end. The breath escaped slowly from her lungs; itwas as if she heaved a lingering sigh; one leg contracted and thenrelaxed.

  For a moment the Ranger was dazed. He stood staring down at his pet;then the truth engulfed him. He realized that he had ridden her to herdeath, and at the thought he became like a woman bereft of her child,like a lover who had seen his sweetheart slain.

  A shout--it was a hoarse, inarticulate cry; a swift, maddened scrutinythat searched the sodden scene of the ambush; then he was down besidethe mare, calling her name heartbrokenly, his arms around her neck, hisface against her warm, wet, velvet hide.

  Law knew that two men had entered the thicket, and therefore one stillremained to be reckoned with, but he gave no thought to that. Nor didhe rise to look after the grotesquely huddled figure that had been acattle thief only a moment before--both he and his assailant had beentoo close to miss. From the corner of his eye he could see a pair ofboot-soles staring at him out of the grass, and they told him there wasno need for investigation. Near the body he heard a calf stirring, buthe let it struggle.

  Bessie Belle's bright eyes were glazing; she did not hear her lover'svoice. Her muzzle, softer than any satin, was loose, her lips wouldnever twitch with that clumsy, quivering caress which pleased hermaster so. One front hoof, washed as clean as agate, was awkwardly bentunder her, the other had plowed a furrow in the soft earth as she sank,and against this leg her head lay tipped.

  Don Ricardo and his son burst out of the brush from opposite directionsalmost at the same moment, to find the Ranger with his face buried inhis horse's mane.

  "Caramba! What is this?" The old man flung himself from the saddle andcame running. "You are injured?"

  Pedro, too, bent over the officer, his brown face pale withapprehension. "Mother of God!" breathed the latter. "It was a wildthing to do, to ride alone---"

  "I'm all right," Law said, rising stiffly, whereupon both Mexicansvoiced their relief.

  "The saints be praised!"

  "Si! What happened? There was a shot! Did you see nothing?"

  Law jerked his head in the direction of the fallen man at his back, andPedro uttered a loud cry.

  "Look!" Father and son ran through the grass, then recoiled and brokeinto a jargon of oaths and exclamations.

  Law followed them with his eyes. "Is he dead?" he inquired, coldly.

  "God! Yes."

  "Right in the mouth! The fellow was in hell before he realized it."

  "See! It is as we thought, Pedro; one of Lewis's! Tse! Tse! Tse! What asight!"

  "Who is he?" queried the officer.

  "Pino Garza, one of the worst!" chimed the two Guzmans.

  Ricardo was dancing in his excitement. "I told you that Lewis knewsomething. The other one got past me, but he rode like the devil, and Icannot shoot like--this."

  "Wait!" exclaimed Pedro. "This is beyond my understanding. I heard butone shot from here, then after an instant my father's gun. And yet hereis a dead horse and a dead man."

  "This fellow and I fired at about the same instant," Dave explained,but even when he had related the history of the encounter hiscompanions could scarcely believe that such quick shooting was possible.

  It was difficult to secure a connected story from Ricardo, but hefinally made it plain that at the first report the other thief hadfled, exposing himself only long enough for the old man to take a quickshot in his direction. Ricardo had missed, and the miscreant wasdoubtless well away by this time. He had ridden a sorrel horse, thatwas all Ricardo could remember.

  Law looked only briefly at the gruesome results of his marksmanship,then he turned back to the body of his beloved mare. Ricardo noticed atlength that he was crying; as the Ranger knelt beside the deadthoroughbred the old Mexican whispered to his son:

  "Valgame Dios! This is a strange fellow. He weeps like a woman. He musthave loved that horse as a man loves his wife. Who can understand theseGringos?" After a time he approached cautiously and inquired: "Whatshall we do with this hombre, senor? Pedro has found his horse."

  Law roused himself. With his own hands he gently removed Bessie Belle'ssaddle, bridle, and blanket, then he gave his orders.

  "I'll take your horse, Ricardo, and you take--that fellow's. Get awagon and move him to Jonesville."

  "And you?"

  "I'm going to follow that man on the sorrel."

  The dead man's saddle was left beside the body; then when the exchangeof mounts had been effected and all was ready, Law made a request thatamazed both father and son.

  "If I'm not back by morning, I want you to bury my mare." His voicebroke; he turned away his face. "Bury her deep, Ricardo, so--thecoyotes can't dig her up; right here where she fell. I'll be back tosee that it's done right. Understand?"

  "Bueno! I understand perfectly. She was a pretty horse. She wasyour--bonita, eh? Well, you have a big heart, senor, as a brave manshould have. Everything shall be done as you wish; I give you my handon it." Ricardo reached down and gripped Law's palm. "We will name ourpasture for her, too, because it is plain you loved her dearly. So,then, until to-morrow."

  Law watched his two friends ride away, then he wiped his Winchester andsaw to his cinch. This done he raised Bessie Belle's head and kissedthe lip that had so often explored his palm for sugar. With a miserableache in his throat he mounted and rode off to pick up the trail of theman on the sorrel pony.

  Fortunately this was not difficult, for the tracks of a running horseare plain in soft ground. Finding where his quarry had broken cover,Law set out at a lope.

  The fellow had ridden in a wide semicircle at first, then, finding hewas not pursued, he had slackened pace, and, in consequence, the signsbecame more difficult to follow. They seemed to lead in the directionof Las Palmas, which Dave judged must be fully twelve miles away, andwhen they continued to maintain this course the Ranger became doublyinterested. Could it be, he asked himself, that his quarry would havethe audacity to ride to the Austin headquarters? If so, hisidentification promised to become easy, for a man on a sorrel
cow-ponywas more than likely to be observed. Perhaps he thought himself secureand counted upon the assistance of some friend or confederate among theLas Palmas ranch-hands in case of pursuit. That seemed notunreasonable, particularly inasmuch as he could have no suspicion thatit was a Ranger who was on his trail.

  Dave lost the hoof-prints for a time, but picked them up again at thepasture gate a few miles farther on, and was able to trace them farenough to assure himself that his quarry was indeed headed for theAustin house and had no intention of swinging southward toward theLewis headquarters.

  By this time the rain had done its work, and to follow the tracksbecame a matter of guesswork. Night was coming on also, and Daverealized that at this rate darkness would find him far from his goal.Therefore he risked his own interpretation of the rider's intent andpushed on without pausing to search out the trail step by step. At thesecond gate the signs indicated that his man was little more than anhour ahead of him.

  The prospect of again seeing the ruddy-haired mistress of Las Palmasstirred Law more deeply than he cared to admit. Alaire Austin had beenseldom out of his thoughts since their first meeting, for, after thefashion of men cut off from human society, he was subject to insistentfancies. Dave had many times lived over those incidents at thewater-hole, and for the life of him he could not credit the commonstories of Alaire's coldness. To him, at least, she had appeared veryhuman, and after they had once become acquainted she had beenunaffected and friendly.

  Since that meeting Dave had picked up considerable information aboutthe object of his interest, and although much of this was palpablyfalse, it had served to make her a still more romantic figure in hiseyes. Alaire now seemed to be a sort of superwoman, and the fact thatshe was his friend, that something deep within her had answered to him,afforded him a keen satisfaction, the greater, perhaps, because of hissurprise that it could be so. Nevertheless, he was uncomfortably awarethat she had a husband. Not only so, but the sharp contrast in theirpositions was disagreeable to contemplate; she was unbelievably rich,and a person of influence in the state, while he had nothing except hishealth, his saddle, and his horse---

  With a desperate pang Law realized that now he had no horse. BessieBelle, his best beloved, lay cold and wet back yonder in the weepingmesquite. He found several cubes of sugar in his pocket, and with anoath flung them from him. Don Ricardo's horse seemed stiff-gaited andstubborn.

  Dave remembered how Mrs. Austin had admired the mare. No doubt shewould grieve at the fate that had befallen her, and that would givethem something to talk about. His own escape would interest her, too,and--Law realized, not without some natural gratification, that hewould appear to her as a sort of hero.

  The mist and an early dusk prevented him from seeing Las Palmas itselfuntil he was well in among the irrigated fields. A few moments laterwhen he rode up to the out-buildings he encountered a middle-agedMexican who proved to be Benito Gonzalez, the range boss.

  Dave made himself known, and Benito answered his questions withapparent honesty. No, he had seen nothing of a sorrel horse or astrange rider, but he had just come in himself. Doubtless they couldlearn more from Juan, the horse-wrangler, who was somewhere about.

  Juan was finally found, but he proved strangely recalcitrant. At firsthe knew nothing, though after some questioning he admitted thepossibility that he had seen a horse of the description given, but wasnot sure. More pressure brought forth the reluctant admission that thepossibility was almost a certainty.

  "What horse was it?" Benito inquired; but the lad was non-committal.Probably it belonged to some stranger. Juan could not recollect justwhere or when he had seen the pony, and he was certain he had not laideyes upon the owner.

  "Devil take the boy! He's half-witted," Benito growled.

  But Dave changed his tactics. "Oiga!" he said, sternly. "Do you want togo to jail?" Juan had no such desire. "Then tell the truth. Was thehorse branded?"

  "Yes."

  "With what brand?"

  Juan had not noticed.

  "With the 'K.T.' perhaps?" That was the Lewis brand.

  "Perhaps!"

  "Where is it now?"

  Juan insolently declared that he didn't know and didn't care.

  "Oh, you don't, eh?" Law reached for the boy and shook him until heyelled. "You will make a nice little prisoner, Juanito, and we shallfind a way to make you speak."

  Gonzalez was inclined to resent such high-handed treatment of hisunderling, but respect for the Rangers was deep-rooted, and Juan'sbehavior was inexplicable.

  At last the horse-boy confessed. He had seen both horse and rider, butknew neither. Mr. Austin and the stranger had arrived together, and thelatter had gone on. That was the truth.

  "Bueno!" Law released his prisoner, who slunk away rubbing hisshoulder. "Now, Benito, we will find Mr. Austin."

  A voice answered from the dusk: "He won't take much finding," and EdAustin himself emerged from the stable door. "Well, what do you want?"he asked.

  "You are Mr. Austin, I reckon?"

  "I am. What d'you mean by abusing my help?" The master of Las Palmasapproached so near that his threatening scowl was visible. "I don'tallow strangers to prowl around my premises."

  Amazed at this hostile greeting, Law explained in a word the reason forhis presence.

  "I don't know anything about your man. What d'you want him for, and whoare you?"

  Dave introduced himself. "I want him for stealing Guzman calves. Itrailed him from where he and his partner cut into your south pasture."

  Benito stirred and muttered an oath, but Austin was unmoved. "I reckonyou must be a bad trailer," he laughed. "We've got no thieves here.What makes you think Guzman lost any calves?"

  Dave's temper, never too well controlled at best, began to rise. Hecould not imagine why a person of Ed Austin's standing should behave inthis extraordinary manner, unless perhaps he was drunk.

  "Well, I saw the calves, and I left the fellow that was branding themwith a wet saddle-blanket over his face."

  "Eh? What's that?" Austin started, and Gonzalez uttered a smotheredexclamation. "You killed him? He's dead?"

  "Dead enough to skin. I caught him with his irons in the fire and thecalves necked up in your pasture. Now I want his companero."

  "I--hope you don't think we know anything about him," Ed protested.

  "Where's that man on the sorrel horse?"

  Austin turned away with a shrug.

  "You rode in with him," Dave persisted.

  Ed wheeled quickly. "How do you know I did?"

  "Your boy saw you."

  The ranchman's voice was harsh as he said: "Look here, my friend,you're on the wrong track. The fellow I was with had nothing to do withthis affair. Would you know your man? Did you get a look at him?"

  "No. But I reckon Don Ricardo could tell his horse."

  "Humph!" Austin grunted, disagreeably. "So just for that you comeprowling around threatening my help, eh? Trying to frame up a case,maybe? Well, it don't go. I was out with one of Tad Lewis's men."

  "What was his name?" Dave managed to inquire.

  "Urbina. He had a sorrel under him, but there are thousands of sorrelhorses."

  "What time did you meet him?"

  "I met him at noon and--I've been with him ever since. So you seeyou're wrong. I presume your man doubled back and is laughing at you."

  Law's first bewilderment had given place to a black rage; for themoment he was in danger of disregarding the reason for "Young Ed's"incivility and giving free rein to his passion, but he checked himselfin time.

  "Would you mind telling me what you and this Urbina were doing?" heinquired, harshly.

  Austin laughed mockingly. "That's my business." said he.

  Dave moistened his lips. He hitched his shoulders nervously. He wasastonished at his own self-control, though the certainty that Austinwas drunk helped him to steady himself. Nevertheless, he dared nottrust himself to speak.

  Construing this silence as an acknowledgment of defeat, Ed turned togo.
Some tardy sense of duty, however, prompted him to fling back,carelessly:

  "I suppose you've come a good ways. If you're hungry, Benito will showyou the way to the kitchen." Then he walked away into the darkness,followed by the shocked gaze of his range boss.

  Benito roused himself from his amazement to say, warmly: "Si, compadre.You will enjoy a cup of hot coffee."

  But Law ground out fiercely: "I'm not used to kitchen hand-outs. Ireckon I can chew my bridle-reins if I get too hungry." Walking to hishorse, he vaulted into the saddle.

  Benito laid a hand upon his thigh and apologized. "Senor Ed is astrange man. He is often like this, lately. You understand me? Will youcome to my house for supper?"

  "Thank you, but I think I'll ride on to Tad Lewis's and see Urbina."

  At this the Mexican shook his head as if apprehensive of the result,but he said nothing more.

  Law hesitated as he was about to spur out of the yard. "By the way," heventured, "you needn't mention this to Mrs. Austin."

  "She is not here," Gonzalez told him. "She has gone to La Feria to seeabout her affairs. She would not permit of this occurrence if she wereat home. She is a very fine lady."

  "Yes. Good night, Benito."

  "Good night, senor."

  When the Ranger had gone, Gonzalez walked slowly toward his house withhis head bowed thoughtfully.

  "It is very strange," he muttered. "How could Don Eduardo have met thisGarza at noon when, with my own eyes, I saw him ride away from LasPalmas at three o'clock in the afternoon? It is very strange."