CHAPTER XX
Young Burt possessed the keenest eyes of any man in Snake Anson'sgang, for which reason he was given the post as lookout from the loftypromontory. His instructions were to keep sharp watch over the openslopes below and to report any sight of a horse.
A cedar fire with green boughs on top of dead wood sent up a long, palecolumn of smoke. This signal-fire had been kept burning since sunrise.
The preceding night camp had been made on a level spot in the cedarsback of the promontory. But manifestly Anson did not expect to remainthere long. For, after breakfast, the packs had been made up and thehorses stood saddled and bridled. They were restless and uneasy, tossingbits and fighting flies. The sun, now half-way to meridian, was hot andno breeze blew in that sheltered spot.
Shady Jones had ridden off early to fill the water-bags, and had not yetreturned. Anson, thinner and scalier and more snakelike than ever,was dealing a greasy, dirty deck of cards, his opponent being thesquare-shaped, black-visaged Moze. In lieu of money the gamblers wageredwith cedar-berries, each of which berries represented a pipeful oftobacco. Jim Wilson brooded under a cedar-tree, his unshaven face adirty dust-hue, a smoldering fire in his light eyes, a sullen set to hisjaw. Every little while he would raise his eyes to glance at Riggs, andit seemed that a quick glance was enough. Riggs paced to and fro inthe open, coatless and hatless, his black-broadcloth trousers andembroidered vest dusty and torn. An enormous gun bumped awkwardly inits sheath swinging below his hip. Riggs looked perturbed. His face wassweating freely, yet it was far from red in color. He did not appear tomind the sun or the flies. His eyes were staring, dark, wild, shiftingin gaze from everything they encountered. But often that gaze shot backto the captive girl sitting under a cedar some yards from the man.
Bo Rayner's little, booted feet were tied together with one end of alasso and the other end trailed off over the ground. Her hands werefree. Her riding-habit was dusty and disordered. Her eyes blazeddefiantly out of a small, pale face.
"Harve Riggs, I wouldn't be standing in those cheap boots of yours fora million dollars," she said, sarcastically. Riggs took no notice of herwords.
"You pack that gun-sheath wrong end out. What have you got the gun for,anyhow?" she added, tauntingly.
Snake Anson let out a hoarse laugh and Moze's black visage opened in ahuge grin. Jim Wilson seemed to drink in the girl's words. Sullen andsomber, he bent his lean head, very still, as if listening.
"You'd better shut up," said Riggs, darkly.
"I will not shut up," declared Bo.
"Then I'll gag you," he threatened.
"Gag me! Why, you dirty, low-down, two-bit of a bluff!" she exclaimed,hotly, "I'd like to see you try it. I'll tear that long hair of yoursright off your head."
Riggs advanced toward her with his hands clutching, as if eager tothrottle her. The girl leaned forward, her face reddening, her eyesfierce.
"You damned little cat!" muttered Riggs, thickly. "I'll gag you--if youdon't stop squallin'."
"Come on. I dare you to lay a hand on me.... Harve Riggs, I'm not theleast afraid of you. Can't you savvy that? You're a liar, a four-flush,a sneak! Why, you're not fit to wipe the feet of any of these outlaws."
Riggs took two long strides and bent over her, his teeth protruding in asnarl, and he cuffed her hard on the side of the head.
Bo's head jerked back with the force of the blow, but she uttered nocry.
"Are you goin' to keep your jaw shut?" he demanded, stridently, and adark tide of blood surged up into his neck.
"I should smile I'm not," retorted Bo, in cool, deliberate angerof opposition. "You've roped me--and you've struck me! Now get aclub--stand off there--out of my reach--and beat me! Oh, if I only knewcuss words fit for you--I'd call you them!"
Snake Anson had stopped playing cards, and was watching, listening, withhalf-disgusted, half-amused expression on his serpent-like face. JimWilson slowly rose to his feet. If any one had observed him it wouldhave been to note that he now seemed singularly fascinated by thisscene, yet all the while absorbed in himself. Once he loosened theneck-band of his blouse.
Riggs swung his arm more violently at the girl. But she dodged.
"You dog!" she hissed. "Oh, if I only had a gun!"
Her face then, with its dead whiteness and the eyes of flame, held atragic, impelling beauty that stung Anson into remonstrance.
"Aw, Riggs, don't beat up the kid," he protested. "Thet won't do anygood. Let her alone."
"But she's got to shut up," replied Riggs.
"How 'n hell air you goin' to shet her up? Mebbe if you get out of hersight she'll be quiet.... How about thet, girl?"
Anson gnawed his drooping mustache as he eyed Bo.
"Have I made any kick to you or your men yet?" she queried.
"It strikes me you 'ain't," replied Anson.
"You won't hear me make any so long as I'm treated decent," said Bo."I don't know what you've got to do with Riggs. He ran me down--ropedme--dragged me to your camp. Now I've a hunch you're waiting forBeasley."
"Girl, your hunch 's correct," said Anson.
"Well, do you know I'm the wrong girl?"
"What's thet? I reckon you're Nell Rayner, who got left all oldAuchincloss's property."
"No. I'm Bo Rayner. Nell is my sister. She owns the ranch. Beasleywanted her."
Anson cursed deep and low. Under his sharp, bristling eyebrows he bentcunning green eyes upon Riggs.
"Say, you! Is what this kid says so?"
"Yes. She's Nell Rayner's sister," replied Riggs, doggedly.
"A-huh! Wal, why in the hell did you drag her into my camp an' off uphere to signal Beasley? He ain't wantin' her. He wants the girl who ownsthe ranch. Did you take one fer the other--same as thet day we was withyou?"
"Guess I must have," replied Riggs, sullenly.
"But you knowed her from her sister afore you come to my camp?"
Riggs shook his head. He was paler now and sweating more freely. Thedank hair hung wet over his forehead. His manner was that of a mansuddenly realizing he had gotten into a tight place.
"Oh, he's a liar!" exclaimed Bo, with contemptuous ring in her voice."He comes from my country. He has known Nell and me for years."
Snake Anson turned to look at Wilson.
"Jim, now hyar's a queer deal this feller has rung in on us. I thoughtthet kid was pretty young. Don't you remember Beasley told us NellRayner was a handsome woman?"
"Wal, pard Anson, if this heah gurl ain't handsome my eyes have gonepore," drawled Wilson.
"A-huh! So your Texas chilvaree over the ladies is some operatin',"retorted Anson, with fine sarcasm. "But thet ain't tellin' me what youthink?"
"Wal, I ain't tellin' you what I think yet. But I know thet kid ain'tNell Rayner. For I've seen her."
Anson studied his right-hand man for a moment, then, taking out histobacco-pouch, he sat himself down upon a stone and proceeded leisurelyto roll a cigarette. He put it between his thin lips and apparentlyforgot to light it. For a few moments he gazed at the yellow ground andsome scant sage-brush. Riggs took to pacing up and down. Wilson leanedas before against the cedar. The girl slowly recovered from her excessof anger.
"Kid, see hyar," said Anson, addressing the girl; "if Riggs knowed youwasn't Nell an' fetched you along anyhow--what 'd he do thet fur?"
"He chased me--caught me. Then he saw some one after us and he hurriedto your camp. He was afraid--the cur!"
Riggs heard her reply, for he turned a malignant glance upon her.
"Anson, I fetched her because I know Nell Rayner will give up anythin'on earth for her," he said, in loud voice.
Anson pondered this statement with an air of considering its apparentsincerity.
"Don't you believe him," declared Bo Rayner, bluntly. "He's a liar. He'sdouble-crossing Beasley and all of you."
Riggs raised a shaking hand to clench it at her. "Keep still or it 'llbe the worse for you."
"Riggs, shut up yourself," put in Anson, as he leisurely r
ose. "Mebbe it'ain't occurred to you thet she might have some talk interestin' to me.An' I'm runnin' this hyar camp. ... Now, kid, talk up an' say what youlike."
"I said he was double-crossing you all," replied the girl, instantly."Why, I'm surprised you'd be caught in his company! My uncle Al andmy sweetheart Carmichael and my friend Dale--they've all told me whatWestern men are, even down to outlaws, robbers, cutthroat rascals likeyou. And I know the West well enough now to be sure that four-flushdoesn't belong here and can't last here. He went to Dodge City onceand when he came back he made a bluff at being a bad man. He was aswaggering, bragging, drinking gun-fighter. He talked of the men he'dshot, of the fights he'd had. He dressed like some of those gun-throwinggamblers.... He was in love with my sister Nell. She hated him. Hefollowed us out West and he has hung on our actions like a sneakingIndian. Why, Nell and I couldn't even walk to the store in the village.He rode after me out on the range--chased me.... For that Carmichaelcalled Riggs's bluff down in Turner's saloon. Dared him to draw! Cussedhim every name on the range! Slapped and beat and kicked him! Drove himout of Pine!... And now, whatever he has said to Beasley or you, it's adead sure bet he's playing his own game. That's to get hold of Nell, andif not her--then me!... Oh, I'm out of breath--and I'm out of names tocall him. If I talked forever--I'd never be--able to--do him justice.But lend me--a gun--a minute!"
Jim Wilson's quiet form vibrated with a start. Anson with his admiringsmile pulled his gun and, taking a couple of steps forward, held it outbutt first. She stretched eagerly for it and he jerked it away.
"Hold on there!" yelled Riggs, in alarm.
"Damme, Jim, if she didn't mean bizness!" exclaimed the outlaw.
"Wal, now--see heah, Miss. Would you bore him--if you hed a gun?"inquired Wilson, with curious interest. There was more of respect in hisdemeanor than admiration.
"No. I don't want his cowardly blood on my hands," replied the girl."But I'd make him dance--I'd make him run."
"Shore you can handle a gun?"
She nodded her answer while her eyes flashed hate and her resolute lipstwitched.
Then Wilson made a singularly swift motion and his gun was pitched buttfirst to within a foot of her hand. She snatched it up, cocked it, aimedit, all before Anson could move. But he yelled:
"Drop thet gun, you little devil!"
Riggs turned ghastly as the big blue gun lined on him. He also yelled,but that yell was different from Anson's.
"Run or dance!" cried the girl.
The big gun boomed and leaped almost out of her hand. She took bothhands, and called derisively as she fired again. The second bullet hitat Riggs's feet, scattering the dust and fragments of stone all overhim. He bounded here--there--then darted for the rocks. A third time theheavy gun spoke and this bullet must have ticked Riggs, for he let out ahoarse bawl and leaped sheer for the protection of a rock.
"Plug him! Shoot off a leg!" yelled Snake Anson, whooping and stamping,as Riggs got out of sight.
Jim Wilson watched the whole performance with the same quietnessthat had characterized his manner toward the girl. Then, as Riggsdisappeared, Wilson stepped forward and took the gun from the girl'strembling hands. She was whiter than ever, but still resolute anddefiant. Wilson took a glance over in the direction Riggs had hidden andthen proceeded to reload the gun. Snake Anson's roar of laughter ceasedrather suddenly.
"Hyar, Jim, she might have held up the whole gang with thet gun," heprotested.
"I reckon she 'ain't nothin' ag'in' us," replied Wilson.
"A-huh! You know a lot about wimmen now, don't you? But thet did myheart good. Jim, what 'n earth would you have did if thet 'd been youinstead of Riggs?"
The query seemed important and amazing. Wilson pondered.
"Shore I'd stood there--stock-still--an' never moved an eye-winker."
"An' let her shoot!" ejaculated Anson, nodding his long head. "Me, too!"
So these rough outlaws, inured to all the violence and baseness of theirdishonest calling, rose to the challenging courage of a slip of a girl.She had the one thing they respected--nerve.
Just then a halloo, from the promontory brought Anson up with a start.Muttering to himself, he strode out toward the jagged rocks that hid theoutlook. Moze shuffled his burly form after Anson.
"Miss, it shore was grand--thet performance of Mister Gunman Riggs,"remarked Jim Wilson, attentively studying the girl.
"Much obliged to you for lending me your gun," she replied. "I--I hope Ihit him--a little."
"Wal, if you didn't sting him, then Jim Wilson knows nothin' aboutlead."
"Jim Wilson? Are you the man--the outlaw my uncle Al knew?"
"Reckon I am, miss. Fer I knowed Al shore enough. What 'd he say abootme?"
"I remember once he was telling me about Snake Anson's gang. Hementioned you. Said you were a real gun-fighter. And what a shame it wasyou had to be an outlaw."
"Wal! An' so old Al spoke thet nice of me.... It's tolerable likely I'llremember. An' now, miss, can I do anythin' for you?"
Swift as a flash she looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
"Wal, shore I don't mean much, I'm sorry to say. Nothin' to makeyou look like thet.... I hev to be an outlaw, shore as you're born.But--mebbe there's a difference in outlaws."
She understood him and paid him the compliment not to voice her suddenupflashing hope that he might be one to betray his leader.
"Please take this rope off my feet. Let me walk a little. Let me havea--a little privacy. That fool watched every move I made. I promise notto run away. And, oh! I'm thirsty."
"Shore you've got sense." He freed her feet and helped her get up."There'll be some fresh water any minit now, if you'll wait."
Then he turned his back and walked over to where Riggs sat nursing abullet-burn on his leg.
"Say, Riggs, I'm takin' the responsibility of loosin' the girl for alittle spell. She can't get away. An' there ain't any sense in bein'mean."
Riggs made no reply, and went on rolling down his trousers leg, lappeda fold over at the bottom and pulled on his boot. Then he strode outtoward the promontory. Half-way there he encountered Anson trampingback.
"Beasley's comin' one way an' Shady's comin' another. We'll be off thishot point of rock by noon," said the outlaw leader.
Riggs went on to the promontory to look for himself.
"Where's the girl?" demanded Anson, in surprise, when he got back to thecamp.
"Wal, she's walkin' 'round between heah an' Pine," drawled Wilson.
"Jim, you let her loose?"
"Shore I did. She's been hawg-tied all the time. An' she said she'd notrun off. I'd take thet girl's word even to a sheep-thief."
"A-huh. So would I, for all of thet. But, Jim, somethin's workin' inyou. Ain't you sort of rememberin' a time when you was young--an' mebbeknowed pretty kids like this one?"
"Wal, if I am it 'll shore turn out bad fer somebody."
Anson gave him a surprised stare and suddenly lost the bantering tone.
"A-huh! So thet's how it's workin'," he replied, and flung himself downin the shade.
Young Burt made his appearance then, wiping his sallow face. Hisdeep-set, hungry eyes, upon which his comrades set such store, rovedaround the camp.
"Whar's the gurl?" he queried.
"Jim let her go out fer a stroll," replied Anson.
"I seen Jim was gittin' softy over her. Haw! Haw! Haw!"
But Snake Anson did not crack a smile. The atmosphere appeared not to becongenial for jokes, a fact Burt rather suddenly divined. Riggs and Mozereturned from the promontory, the latter reporting that Shady Jones wasriding up close. Then the girl walked slowly into sight and approachedto find a seat within ten yards of the group. They waited in silenceuntil the expected horseman rode up with water-bottles slung on bothsides of his saddle. His advent was welcome. All the men were thirsty.Wilson took water to the girl before drinking himself.
"Thet's an all-fired hot ride fer water," declared the outlaw Shady, whoso
mehow fitted his name in color and impression. "An', boss, if it's thesame to you I won't take it ag'in."
"Cheer up, Shady. We'll be rustlin' back in the mountains beforesundown," said Anson.
"Hang me if that ain't the cheerfulest news I've hed in some days. Hey,Moze?"
The black-faced Moze nodded his shaggy head.
"I'm sick an' sore of this deal," broke out Burt, evidently encouragedby his elders. "Ever since last fall we've been hangin' 'round--tilljest lately freezin' in camps--no money--no drink--no grub wuth havin'.All on promises!"
Not improbably this young and reckless member of the gang had struckthe note of discord. Wilson seemed most detached from any sentimentprevailing there. Some strong thoughts were revolving in his brain.
"Burt, you ain't insinuatin' thet I made promises?" inquired Anson,ominously.
"No, boss, I ain't. You allus said we might hit it rich. But thempromises was made to you. An' it 'd be jest like thet greaser to go backon his word now we got the gurl."
"Son, it happens we got the wrong one. Our long-haired pard hyar--MisterRiggs--him with the big gun--he waltzes up with this sassy kid insteadof the woman Beasley wanted."
Burt snorted his disgust while Shady Jones, roundly swearing, peltedthe smoldering camp-fire with stones. Then they all lapsed into surlysilence. The object of their growing scorn, Riggs, sat a littleway apart, facing none of them, but maintaining as bold a front asapparently he could muster.
Presently a horse shot up his ears, the first indication of scent orsound imperceptible to the men. But with this cue they all, exceptWilson, sat up attentively. Soon the crack of iron-shod hoofs on stonebroke the silence. Riggs nervously rose to his feet. And the others,still excepting Wilson, one by one followed suit. In another moment arangy bay horse trotted out of the cedars, up to the camp, and his riderjumped off nimbly for so heavy a man.
"Howdy, Beasley?" was Anson's greeting.
"Hello, Snake, old man!" replied Beasley, as his bold, snapping blackeyes swept the group. He was dusty and hot, and wet with sweat, yetevidently too excited to feel discomfort. "I seen your smoke signalfirst off an' jumped my hoss quick. But I rode north of Pine before Iheaded 'round this way. Did you corral the girl or did Riggs? Say!--youlook queer!... What's wrong here? You haven't signaled me for nothin'?"
Snake Anson beckoned to Bo.
"Come out of the shade. Let him look you over."
The girl walked out from under the spreading cedar that had hidden herfrom sight.
Beasley stared aghast--his jaw dropped.
"Thet's the kid sister of the woman I wanted!" he ejaculated.
"So we've jest been told."
Astonishment still held Beasley.
"Told?" he echoed. Suddenly his big body leaped with a start. "Who gother? Who fetched her?"
"Why, Mister Gunman Riggs hyar," replied Anson, with a subtle scorn.
"Riggs, you got the wrong girl," shouted Beasley. "You made thet mistakeonce before. What're you up to?"
"I chased her an' when I got her, seein' it wasn't Nell Rayner--why--Ikept her, anyhow," replied Riggs. "An' I've got a word for your earalone."
"Man, you're crazy--queerin' my deal thet way!" roared Beasley. "Youheard my plans.... Riggs, this girl-stealin' can't be done twice. Wasyou drinkin' or locoed or what?"
"Beasley, he was giving you the double-cross," cut in Bo Rayner's coolvoice.
The rancher stared speechlessly at her, then at Anson, then at Wilson,and last at Riggs, when his brown visage shaded dark with rush of purpleblood. With one lunge he knocked Riggs flat, then stood over him with aconvulsive hand at his gun.
"You white-livered card-sharp! I've a notion to bore you.... They toldme you had a deal of your own, an' now I believe it."
"Yes--I had," replied Riggs, cautiously getting up. He was ghastly. "ButI wasn't double-crossin' you. Your deal was to get the girl away fromhome so you could take possession of her property. An' I wanted her."
"What for did you fetch the sister, then?" demanded Beasley, his big jawbulging.
"Because I've a plan to--"
"Plan hell! You've spoiled my plan an' I've seen about enough of you."Beasley breathed hard; his lowering gaze boded an uncertain will towardthe man who had crossed him; his hand still hung low and clutching.
"Beasley, tell them to get my horse. I want to go home," said Bo Rayner.
Slowly Beasley turned. Her words enjoined a silence. What to do with hernow appeared a problem.
"I had nothin' to do with fetchin' you here an' I'll have nothin' to dowith sendin' you back or whatever's done with you," declared Beasley.
Then the girl's face flashed white again and her eyes changed to fire.
"You're as big a liar as Riggs," she cried, passionately. "And you'rea thief, a bully who picks on defenseless girls. Oh, we know your game!Milt Dale heard your plot with this outlaw Anson to steal my sister. Youought to be hanged--you half-breed greaser!"
"I'll cut out your tongue!" hissed Beasley.
"Yes, I'll bet you would if you had me alone. But these outlaws--thesesheep-thieves--these tools you hire are better than you and Riggs....What do you suppose Carmichael will do to you? Carmichael! He's mysweetheart--that cowboy. You know what he did to Riggs. Have you brainsenough to know what he'll do to you?"
"He'll not do much," growled Beasley. But the thick purplish blood wasreceding from his face. "Your cowpuncher--"
"Bah!" she interrupted, and she snapped her fingers in his face. "He'sfrom Texas! He's from TEXAS!"
"Supposin' he is from Texas?" demanded Beasley, in angry irritation."What's thet? Texans are all over. There's Jim Wilson, Snake Anson'sright-hand man. He's from Texas. But thet ain't scarin' any one."
He pointed toward Wilson, who shifted uneasily from foot to foot. Thegirl's flaming glance followed his hand.
"Are you from Texas?" she asked.
"Yes, Miss, I am--an' I reckon I don't deserve it," replied Wilson. Itwas certain that a vague shame attended his confession.
"Oh! I believed even a bandit from Texas would fight for a helplessgirl!" she replied, in withering scorn of disappointment.
Jim Wilson dropped his head. If any one there suspected a seriousturn to Wilson's attitude toward that situation it was the keen outlawleader.
"Beasley, you're courtin' death," he broke in.
"You bet you are!" added Bo, with a passion that made her listenersquiver. "You've put me at the mercy of a gang of outlaws! You may forcemy sister out of her home! But your day will come.' Tom Carmichael willKILL you."
Beasley mounted his horse. Sullen, livid, furious, he sat shaking in thesaddle, to glare down at the outlaw leader.
"Snake, thet's no fault of mine the deal's miscarried. I was square. Imade my offer for the workin' out of my plan. It 'ain't been done. Nowthere's hell to pay an' I'm through."
"Beasley, I reckon I couldn't hold you to anythin'," replied Anson,slowly. "But if you was square you ain't square now. We've hung aroundan' tried hard. My men are all sore. An' we're broke, with no outfit tospeak of. Me an' you never fell out before. But I reckon we might."
"Do I owe you any money--accordin' to the deal?" demanded Beasley.
"No, you don't," responded Anson, sharply.
"Then thet's square. I wash my hands of the whole deal. Make Riggs payup. He's got money an' he's got plans. Go in with him."
With that Beasley spurred his horse, wheeled and rode away. The outlawsgazed after him until he disappeared in the cedars.
"What'd you expect from a greaser?" queried Shady Jones.
"Anson, didn't I say so?" added Burt.
The black-visaged Moze rolled his eyes like a mad bull and Jim Wilsonstudiously examined a stick he held in his hands. Riggs showed immenserelief.
"Anson, stake me to some of your outfit an' I'll ride off with thegirl," he said, eagerly.
"Where'd you go now?" queried Anson, curiously.
Riggs appeared at a loss for a quick answer; his wits were no more equalto th
is predicament than his nerve.
"You're no woodsman. An' onless you're plumb locoed you'd never riskgoin' near Pine or Show Down. There'll be real trackers huntin' yourtrail."
The listening girl suddenly appealed to Wilson.
"Don't let him take me off--alone--in the woods!" she faltered. That wasthe first indication of her weakening.
Jim Wilson broke into gruff reply. "I'm not bossin' this gang."
"But you're a man!" she importuned.
"Riggs, you fetch along your precious firebrand an' come with us," saidAnson, craftily. "I'm particular curious to see her brand you."
"Snake, lemme take the girl back to Pine," said Jim Wilson.
Anson swore his amaze.
"It's sense," continued Wilson. "We've shore got our own troubles, an'keepin' her 'll only add to them. I've a hunch. Now you know I ain'toften givin' to buckin' your say-so. But this deal ain't tastin' good tome. Thet girl ought to be sent home."
"But mebbe there's somethin' in it for us. Her sister 'd pay to git herback."
"Wal, I shore hope you'll recollect I offered--thet's all," concludedWilson.
"Jim, if we wanted to git rid of her we'd let Riggs take her off,"remonstrated the outlaw leader. He was perturbed and undecided. Wilsonworried him.
The long Texan veered around full faced. What subtle transformation inhim!
"Like hell we would!" he said.
It could not have been the tone that caused Anson to quail. He mighthave been leader here, but he was not the greater man. His face clouded.
"Break camp," he ordered.
Riggs had probably not heard that last exchange between Anson andWilson, for he had walked a few rods aside to get his horse.
In a few moments when they started off, Burt, Jones, and Moze were inthe lead driving the pack-horses, Anson rode next, the girl came betweenhim and Riggs, and significantly, it seemed, Jim Wilson brought up therear.
This start was made a little after the noon hour. They zigzagged up theslope, took to a deep ravine, and followed it up to where it headed inthe level forest. From there travel was rapid, the pack-horses beingdriven at a jogtrot. Once when a troop of deer burst out of a thicketinto a glade, to stand with ears high, young Burt halted the cavalcade.His well-aimed shot brought down a deer. Then the men rode on, leavinghim behind to dress and pack the meat. The only other halt made was atthe crossing of the first water, a clear, swift brook, where both horsesand men drank thirstily. Here Burt caught up with his comrades.
They traversed glade and park, and wended a crooked trail through thedeepening forest, and climbed, bench after bench, to higher ground,while the sun sloped to the westward, lower and redder. Sunset had gone,and twilight was momentarily brightening to the afterglow when Anson,breaking his silence of the afternoon, ordered a halt.
The place was wild, dismal, a shallow vale between dark slopes ofspruce. Grass, fire-wood, and water were there in abundance. All themen were off, throwing saddles and packs, before the tired girl made aneffort to get down. Riggs, observing her, made a not ungentle move topull her off. She gave him a sounding slap with her gloved hand.
"Keep your paws to yourself," she said. No evidence of exhaustion wasthere in her spirit.
Wilson had observed this by-play, but Anson had not.
"What come off?" he asked.
"Wal, the Honorable Gunman Riggs jest got caressed by the lady--as hewas doin' the elegant," replied Moze, who stood nearest.
"Jim, was you watchin'?" queried Anson. His curiosity had held throughthe afternoon.
"He tried to yank her off an' she biffed him," replied Wilson.
"That Riggs is jest daffy or plain locoed," said Snake, in an aside toMoze.
"Boss, you mean plain cussed. Mark my words, he'll hoodoo this outfit.Jim was figgerin' correct."
"Hoodoo--" cursed Anson, under his breath.
Many hands made quick work. In a few moments a fire was burningbrightly, water was boiling, pots were steaming, the odor of venisonpermeated the cool air. The girl had at last slipped off her saddle tothe ground, where she sat while Riggs led the horse away. She sat thereapparently forgotten, a pathetic droop to her head.
Wilson had taken an ax and was vigorously wielding it among the spruces.One by one they fell with swish and soft crash. Then the sliding ringof the ax told how he was slicing off the branches with long sweeps.Presently he appeared in the semi-darkness, dragging half-trimmedspruces behind him. He made several trips, the last of which was tostagger under a huge burden of spruce boughs. These he spread under alow, projecting branch of an aspen. Then he leaned the bushy sprucesslantingly against this branch on both sides, quickly improvising aV-shaped shelter with narrow aperture in front. Next from one ofthe packs he took a blanket and threw that inside the shelter. Then,touching the girl on the shoulder, he whispered:
"When you're ready, slip in there. An' don't lose no sleep by worryin',fer I'll be layin' right here."
He made a motion to indicate his length across the front of the narrowaperture.
"Oh, thank you! Maybe you really are a Texan," she whispered back.
"Mebbe," was his gloomy reply.