The Range Boss

  CHAPTER XII

  THE RUSTLERS

  At about the time Randerson was crossing the river near the point wherethe path leading to Catherson's shack joined the Lazette trail, RuthHarkness was loping her pony rapidly toward him. They passed each otherwithin a mile, but both were unconscious of this fact, for Randerson wasriding in the section of timber that he had entered immediately aftercrossing the river, and Ruth was concealed from his view by a stretch ofintervening brush and trees.

  Ruth had been worried more than she would have been willing to admit,over the presence of Chavis and his two men in the vicinity, and thatmorning after she had questioned a puncher about the former Flying Wforeman, she had determined to ride down the river for the purpose ofmaking a long distance observation of the "shack" the puncher andRanderson had mentioned as being inhabited by Chavis. That determinationhad not been acted upon until after dinner, however, and it was nearlytwo o'clock when she reached the ford where she had passed Randerson.

  The puncher had told her that Chavis' shack was about fifteen milesdistant from the Flying W ranchhouse, and situated in a little basin nearthe river, which could be approached only by riding down a rock-strewnand dangerous declivity. She had no intention of risking the descent; shemerely wanted to view the place from afar, and she judged that from theedge of a plateau, which the puncher had described to her, she would beable to see very well.

  When she passed the ford near the Lazette trail, she felt a sudden qualmof misgiving, for she had never ridden quite that far alone--the ford wasabout ten miles from the ranchhouse--but she smiled at the sensation,conquering it, and continued on her way, absorbed in the panoramic viewof the landscape.

  At a distance of perhaps a mile beyond the ford she halted the pony onthe crest of a low hill and looked about her. The country at this pointwas broken and rocky; there was much sand; the line of hills, of whichthe one on which her pony stood was a part, were barren and uninviting.There was much cactus. She made a grimace of abhorrence at a clump thatgrew near her in an arid stretch, and then looked beyond it at a stretchof green. Far away on a gentle slope she saw some cattle, and lookinglonger, she observed a man on a horse. One of the Flying W men, ofcourse, she assured herself, and felt more secure.

  She rode on again, following a ridge, the pony stepping gingerly. Anotherhalf mile and she urged the pony down into a slight depression where thefooting was better. The animal made good progress here, and after a whilethey struck a level, splotched with dry bunch-grass, which rustlednoisily under the tread of the pony's hoofs.

  It was exhilarating here, for presently the level became a slope, and theslope merged into another level which paralleled the buttes along theriver, and she could see for miles on the other side of the stream, avista of plain and hills and mountains and forest so alluring in itsvirgin wildness; so vast, big, and silent a section that it awed her.

  When she saw the sun swimming just above the peaks of some mountains inthe dim distance, she began to have some doubts of the wisdom of makingthe trip, but she pressed on, promising herself that she would have abrief look at the shack and the basin, and then immediately return. Shehad expected to make much better time than she had made. Also, she hadnot anticipated that a fifteen-mile ride would tire her so. But shebelieved that it was not the ride so far, but the prospect of anotherfifteen-mile ride to return, that appalled her--for she had ridden muchsince her coming to the Flying W, and was rather hardened to it. In oneof his letters to her, her uncle had stated that his men often rode sixtymiles in a day, and that he remembered one ride of ninety miles, which acowpuncher had made with the same pony in twenty-two hours of straightriding. He had told her that the tough little plains pony could go anydistance that its rider was able to "fork" it. She believed that, for thelittle animal under her had never looked tired when she had ridden him tothe ranchhouse at the end of a hard day.

  But these recollections did not console her, and she urged the pony on,into a gallop that took her over the ground rapidly.

  At last, as she was swept around a bend in the plateau, she saw spreadingbeneath her a little valley, green-carpeted, beautiful. A wood rose nearthe river, and at its edge she saw what she had come to see--Chavis'shack.

  And now she realized that for all the knowledge that a look at Chavis'shack would give her, she might as well have stayed at the Flying W. Shedidn't know just what she had expected to see when she got here, but whatshe did see was merely the building, a small affair with a flat roof, thespreading valley itself, and several steers grazing in it.

  There were no other signs of life. She got off the pony and walked to theedge of the plateau, discovering that the valley was much shallower thanshe thought it would be, and that at her side, to the left, was thedeclivity that the puncher had told her about. She leaned over the edgeand looked at it.

  It was not so steep as she had expected when listening to the puncher'sdescription of it. But she thought it looked dangerous. At the point fromwhich she viewed it, it was not more than fifteen or twenty feet belowher. It cut into the plateau, running far back and doubling around towardher, and the stretch below her, that was within range of her eyes, wasalmost level. The wall of the cut on which she stood was ragged anduneven, with some scraggly brush thrusting out between the crevices ofrocks, and about ten feet down was a flat rock, like a ledge, thatprojected several feet out over the level below.

  She was about to turn, for she had seen all she cared to see, when animpulse of curiosity urged her to crane her neck to attempt to peeraround a shoulder of the cut where it doubled back. She started andturned pale, not so much from fright as with surprise, for she saw ahorse's head projecting around the shoulder of the cut, and the animalwas looking directly at her. As she drew back, her breath coming fast,the animal whinnied gently.

  Almost instantly, she heard a man's voice:

  "My cayuse is gettin' tired of loafin', I reckon." Ruth held her breath.The voice seemed to come from beneath her feet--she judged that it reallyhad come from beneath the rock that projected from the wall of the cutbelow her. And it was Chavis' voice!

  Of course, he would not be talking to himself, and therefore there mustbe another man with him. At the risk of detection, and filled with anoverwhelming curiosity to hear more she kneeled at the edge of the cutand listened intently, first making sure that the horse she had seencould not see her.

  "I reckon Linton didn't pull it off--or them Flyin' W guys are stickin'close to the herd," said another voice. "He ought to have been here anhour ago."

  "Linton ain't no rusher," said Chavis. "We'll wait."

  There was a silence. Then Chavis spoke again:

  "Flyin' W stock is particular easy to run off. Did I tell you? B---- toldme"--Ruth did not catch the name, she thought it might have been Bennet,or Ben--"that the girl had give orders that anyone ketched runnin' offFlyin' W stock wasn't to be hung!" Ruth heard him chuckle. "Easy boss,eh, Kester?" He sneered. "Ketch that damned Flyin' W outfit hangin'anybody!"

  Kester was one of the men who had quit the day that Ruth had metRanderson, when the latter had been riding in for the money due them. Itdid not surprise Ruth to discover that Kester was with Chavis, forRanderson had told her what might be expected of him. Linton was theother man.

  Nor did it surprise Ruth to hear Chavis talking of stealing the Flying Wstock. But it angered her to discover that her humane principles werebeing ridiculed; she was so incensed at Chavis that she felt she couldremain to hear him no longer, and she got up, her face red, her eyesflashing, to go to her pony.

  But the pony was nowhere in sight. She remembered now, her heart sinkingwith a sudden, vague fear, that she had neglected to trail the reins overthe animal's head, as she had been instructed to do by the puncher whohad gentled the pony for her; he had told her that no western horse,broken by an experienced rider, would stray with a dragging rein.

  She gave a quick, frightened glance around. She could see clearly to th
ebroken section of country through which she had passed some time before,and her glance went to the open miles of grass land that stretched southof her. The pony had not gone that way, either. Trembling from a suddenweakness, but driven by the urge of stern necessity, she advancedcautiously to the edge of the cut again and looked over.

  Her pony was standing on the level below her, almost in front of the rockunder which had been Chavis and Kester! It had evidently just gone downthere, for at the instant she looked over the edge of the cut she sawChavis and Kester running toward it, muttering with surprise.

  For one wild, awful instant, Ruth felt that she would faint, for theworld reeled around her in dizzying circles. A cold dread that seized hersenses helped her to regain control of herself presently, however, andscarcely breathing she stole behind some dense weeds at the edge of thecut, murmuring a prayer of thankfulness for their presence.

  What Chavis and Kester had said upon seeing the pony, she had not heard.But now she saw crafty smiles on their faces; Chavis' was transfigured byan expression that almost drew a cry of horror from her. Through theweeds she could see their forms, and even hear the subdued exclamationfrom Chavis:

  "It's the girl's cayuse, sure. I'd know it if I saw it in the Cannibalislands. I reckon she's been snoopin' around here somewheres, an' it'ssloped! Why, Kester!" he cried, standing erect and drawing great, longbreaths, his eyes blazing with passion as for an instant she saw them asthey swept along the edge of the cut, "I'd swing for a kiss from themlips of hers!"

  "You're a fool!" declared Kester. "Let the women alone! I never knowed aman to monkey with one yet, that he didn't get the worst of it."

  Chavis paid no attention to this remonstrance. He seized Ruth's pony bythe bridle and began to lead it up the slope toward the plateau. Kesterlaid a restraining hand on his arm. He spoke rapidly; he seemed to havebecome, in a measure, imbued with the same passion that had takenpossession of Chavis.

  "Leave the cayuse here; she'll be huntin' for it, directly; she'll comeright down here. Give her time."

  Chavis, however, while he obeyed the suggestion about leaving the ponywhere it was, did not follow Kester's suggestion about waiting, but beganto run up the slope toward the plateau, scrambling and muttering. AndKester, after a short instant of silent contemplation, followed him.

  Ruth no longer trembled. She knew that if she was to escape from the twomen she would have to depend entirely upon her own wit and courage, andin this crisis she was cool and self-possessed. She waited until she sawthe two men vanish behind the shoulder of the cut where she had seen thehorse's head, and then she clambered over the edge of the wall, graspingsome gnarled branches, and letting herself slide quickly down. In aninstant she felt her feet come in contact with the flat rock under whichthe men had been when she had first heard them talking. It seemed a greatdistance to the ground from the rock, but she took the jump bravely, noteven shutting her eyes. She landed on all fours and pitched headlong,face down, in the dust, but was up instantly and running toward her pony.

  Seizing the bridle, she looped it through her arm, and then, pulling atthe animal, she ran to where the horses of the two men stood, watchingher, and snorting with astonishment and fright. With hands that trembledmore than a little, she threw the reins over their heads, so that theymight not drag, and then, using the quirt, dangling from her wrist by arawhide thong, she turned their heads toward the declivity and lashedthem furiously. She watched them as they went helter-skelter, down intothe valley, and then with a smile that might have been grim if it had notbeen so quavering, she mounted her own animal and rode it cautiously upthe slope toward the plateau.

  As she reached the plateau, her head rising above its edge, she saw thatChavis and Kester were a good quarter of a mile from her and runningtoward some timber a few hundred yards beyond them.

  With a laugh that was almost derisive, Ruth whipped her pony and sent itflying over the plateau at an angle that took her almost directly awayfrom the running men. She had been riding only a minute or two, however,when she heard a shout, and saw that the men had stopped and were facingin her direction, waving their hands at her. They looked grotesque--likejumping jacks--in the sudden twilight that had fallen, and she could notwithhold a smile of triumph. It did not last long, for she saw the menbegin to run again, this time toward the cut, and she urged her pony toadditional effort, fearful that the men might gain their ponies andovertake her.

  And now that the men were behind her, she squared her pony toward thetrail over which she had ridden to come here, determined to follow it,for she felt that she knew it better than any other.

  The pony ran well, covering the ground with long, agile jumps. For abouttwo miles she held it to its rapid pace, and then, looking backward forthe first time she saw the plateau, vast, dark and vacant, behind her,and she drew the pony down, for she had come to the stretch of brokencountry and realized that she must be careful.

  She shuddered as she looked at the darkening world in front of her. Neverhad it seemed so dismal, so empty, and at the same time so full oflurking danger. The time which precedes the onrush of darkness is alwaysa solemn one; it was doubly solemn to Ruth, alone, miles from home, witha known danger behind her and unknown dangers awaiting her.

  Fifteen miles! She drew a long breath as the pony scampered along;anxiously she scanned the plains to the south and in front of her forsigns of Flying W cattle or men. The cattle and horseman that she hadpreviously seen, far over on the slope, had vanished, and it looked sodismal and empty over there that she turned her head and shivered.

  There seemed to be nothing in front of her but space and darkness. Shewondered, gulping, whether Uncle Jepson and Aunt Martha were worriedabout her. They would be, of course, for she had never stayed like thisbefore. But, she thought, with a pulse of joy, they would be lighting thelamps presently, and when she got to the big level beyond the ford, shewould be able to see the lights, and the sight of them would make herfeel better. She had never realized before how companionable a horsefelt, and as her pony ran on, she began to give some attention to hiswork, noting how his muscles rippled and contracted, how his sidesheaved, with what regularity his legs moved. Involuntarily, she felt ofhis shoulder--it was moist, and the muscles under the smooth hair writhedlike living things. She laughed, almost hysterically, for the touch madeher feel that she was not alone--she was with the most faithful of man'sfriends, and she knew that the little animal under her would do his bestfor her--would run himself to death in her service, if she insisted.

  She had a glorious start over her pursuers. They would never catch her.Twice, after she entered the broken stretch she looked back, but couldsee no sign of them. She did not know that at that moment Chavis andKester, enraged and disgusted over the trick she had played on them, wereriding slowly through the valley toward their shack.

  She was almost through the broken stretch when the pony stumbled. Shepulled quickly on the reins, and the pony straightened. But instantly shefelt its forelegs stiffen, felt it slide; the thought came to her that itmust have slid on a flat rock or a treacherous stretch of lava. Itstruggled like a cat, to recover its balance, grunting and heaving withthe effort, but went down, finally, sideways, throwing her out of thesaddle.

  She had anticipated the fall and had got her feet out of the stirrups,and she alighted standing, braced for the shock. Her left foot struck thetop of a jagged rock, slipped, doubled under her, and she felt a sharp,agonizing pain in the ankle. For a moment she paid no attention to it,however, being more concerned for the pony, but when she noted that theanimal had got up, seemingly none the worse for the fall, she suddenlyrealized that the ankle pained her terribly, and she hopped over to aflat rock and sat on it, to examine the injury. She worked the anklerapidly back and forth, each movement bringing tears to her eyes. She hadalmost forgotten about her pursuers, and when she thought of them she gotup and limped toward the pony, which had wandered a little away fromwhere it had fallen.

  And now the pony, which had performed so no
bly for her during the milesshe had ridden to reach this spot, suddenly seemed determined to undo allhis service by yielding to a whim to avoid capture.

  She tried threats, flattery, cajolery. Twice more she hobbled painfullynear him, and each time he unconcernedly walked away. The third time, heallowed her to come very close, and just when she felt that success wasvery near, he snorted with pretended fright, wheeled, and slashed outwith both hoofs at her and galloped off a full quarter of a mile. Shecould see him standing and looking at her, his ears erect, before thedarkness blotted him from view altogether.

  She tried again, groping her way painfully over rocks, slipping,stumbling, holding her breath from fear of snakes--but she could not findthe pony. And then, white, shaking, clammy from her dread of thedarkness, the awesome silence, and the possibility of Chavis and Kesterfinding her here, she groped blindly until she found a big rock risinghigh above its fellows, and after a struggle during which she tore theskin from her hands and knees, she climbed to its top and crouched on it,shuddering and crying. And she thought of Randerson; of his seriousnessand his earnestness when he had said:

  "I reckon you don't know hate or fear or desperation.... Out here thingsrun loose, an' if you stay here long enough, some day you'll meet theman' recognize them for your own--an' you'll wonder how you ever got alongwithout them."

  Well, she hated now; she hated everything--the country included--with abitterness that, she felt, would never die. And she had felt fear, too,and desperation. She felt them now, and more, she felt a deep humility,and she felt a genuine respect for Randerson--a respect which more thancounterbalanced her former repugnance toward him for the killing ofPickett. For she knew that a while ago, if she had had a pistol with her,she would have killed Chavis and Kester without hesitation.