CHAPTER III

  MASON MEETS THE SHERIFF

  They had arrived at the bunk-house and Tex was talking to a man in adusty khaki suit. The girl saw him and with a bound was out of thesaddle and shaking hands with him. Mason knew that this man was BudAnderson whom the girl had talked so much about.

  Tex had gone on ahead to the corral. Mason paused, and was slowlystroking his horse's mane when Josephine suddenly turned and motionedto him.

  "Tex tells me the Ricker gang are acting suspicious," he overheard hersaying in a strained voice as he rode up.

  The man in the dusty khaki suit muttered something under his breath.Josephine was plainly ill at ease.

  "Mr. Mason, I want to make you acquainted with Bud Anderson, oursheriff," she said in a low voice.

  Mason shook hands and winced. Anderson had a grip of steel. He wasbuilt on the lines of an athlete with powerful shoulders and an easycarriage that denoted quickness of action. He had sharp, piercing grayeyes that seemed to read one's innermost thought. Standing close on tosix feet, he was a magnificent specimen of manhood.

  "Mr. Mason, you have come at just the right time if you likeexcitement," he said, looking the Easterner over sharply.

  "That's my middle name," returned Mason easily.

  Anderson nodded approval.

  "We are going to have some stormy times around these parts," hedeclared. "I understand that Miss Josephine has told you about some ofour bad neighbors, the Ricker outfit.

  "Well," he went on, "I just discovered today that four more men joinedforces with them, and I took the trouble to look up their names. Theyare the same bunch I rounded up in that shooting scrape five yearsago," he concluded.

  "Oh, I remember," the girl cried in evident distress, "they wrote youfrom prison that they would get you when their term was up."

  They had turned their horses into the corral and were walking slowlyto the house. Anderson shut up like a clam and refused to say anythingfurther on the subject. Mason figured it was on account of thenervousness of the girl. That night Anderson told Mason all the insand outs of the affair.

  The trouble had occurred in a small town called Atwater, situated afew miles from Trader's Post. Anderson having business to attend tothere had stumbled on to the case shortly after it happened.

  An old retired silver miner living alone in a cabin had been set uponand robbed by four men. He was found bound and gagged, with a bulletwound in his shoulder.

  Anderson took the trail and followed it untiringly for a week until helanded his men. After being convicted and sentenced to five years inprison they had friends write the sheriff a letter swearing vengeanceafter their term expired.

  Two weeks passed by and nothing of importance had occurred in theactions of the Ricker faction to verify the suspicions of Tex. Masontook long rides each day and got so he could keep up with the bestriders. His face had taken on a deep tan, his wind was good and hismuscles were like iron.

  "If I felt any better I couldn't stand it, I'd be in the hospital," hedeclared one day to the ranch owner, in answer to a query as to hishealth.

  His thoughts often turned to home and at times he had to fight hard toovercome a fierce longing to chuck up the whole thing and return Eastto his old haunts and habits.

  "But I won't," he gritted to himself, "I told Dad I'd be game, andI'll stick. When I get that racing car of mine out here I'll make thenatives gasp."

  Then he remembered he had promised the girl he would teach her how todrive, and his thoughts grew tender, for he admitted to himself thathe was growing in love with her each day. Then he thought of her deepfriendship for Anderson and his face clouded.

  Mason had started out alone this morning and was riding a horse givenhim by the ranch owner. He had determined to see the Ricker ranch andpay her owners a visit.

  "If ever I get in a scrap with Bud it will be over Josephine," he saidaloud to his horse. "Still, he has always used me white, eh, Sport,old boy?"

  The horse raised his ears as though in sympathy with his master.

  Mason had been covering ground at a good clip while voicing expressionto his thoughts. An hour later the dim outline of the Ricker ranchcame into view. He intended to make a short stay at the ranch and thenmake for Trader's Post. He wanted to send a hurry order home for hiscar which he had ordered the week before.

  Mason slowed his horse down to a walk as he came up to the ranch andwas eagerly scanning the premises for signs of life. A moment later hedismounted and tied his horse to a post of a low porch that ran theentire length of the ranch building. About the center of the porchthere was a door leading into a spacious room filled with saddles,boots and other cowboy paraphernalia.

  He boldly tried the door and found it unlocked.

  A spirit of adventure seized him and he flung the door open andentered the room. As he did so, he failed to notice a misshapencreature, who had watched him with bright, gleaming eyes, disappearwith lightning rapidity through a door at the end of the building.

  The place seemed deserted, but what impressed Mason most was the factthat the boots, spurs and other trappings were richly studded andembossed.

  "Hum," mused Mason softly, "pretty swell outfit for a bunch of lowdown cattle thieves as Bud seems to think they are."

  He had about made up his mind to make a tour of all the rooms and hadstarted towards a door leading into a hall when he heard a noisebehind him.

  "Move, and I shoot!" the command was fairly barked at him.

  Quickly he raised his hands above his head, glancing over his shoulderas he did so.

  Through a hole in the wall a bony hand produced, grasping a longblue-barreled Colt aimed directly at his head. Mason heard his captorfumbling with a lock and slowly a door swung outward revealing to hisastonished gaze the most hideous-looking object he had ever set eyesupon. It was a hunchback with massive frame and great powerful armsthat reached to his knees.

  He advanced slowly towards Mason with a horrible leer on his lips,eyes twitching and bright with rage. Mason's thoughts flew swiftly ashe watched the hunchback close in on him.

  He had come away from the ranch unarmed as he never had cared for theuse of firearms. Now, he wished most heartily that he had takenJosephine's advice when one day she had urged him to carry a gun.

  "Guess I've got maw's fool in a fuss," he said grimly to himself as hebraced his body for a struggle. "This thing is dippy or I'm foolish."

  When within a few feet of Mason the hunchback suddenly dropped hisrevolver and grappled with him.

  Mason met the onslaught with a terrific swing to the dwarf's jaw. Hardas the blow was, it did not seem to have any effect. Mason felt thebony hands of his assailant close about his throat with crushingforce. Bright lights flashed before his eyes and he could hear thehunchback's breath come and go in a sharp whistle. Mason realized thehunchback had him at a disadvantage, and allowing his body to becomelimp, he sank slowly to his knees. The ruse worked, for the hunchbackreleased the strangle hold about his neck.

  Like a flash Mason straightened up and throwing his left arm aroundhis assailant's neck he seized his right arm and exerting tremendouspressure forced it sharply up between his shoulder blades. It was thehammerlock and he soon had the hunchback begging for mercy.

  Mason was thoroughly angered by this time and threw the loathsomecreature into the corner, a groveling mass.

  Picking up the gun he slipped it into his pocket.

  "Why did you wish to take my life?" he demanded, gazing down at hisfallen foe.

  "I know you," the dwarf grated in a cracked voice. "Your name isMason, the new man at Walters' ranch, and I got orders to watch you."

  "Why watch me?" Mason asked, his curiosity aroused.

  "That's for you to find out," the dwarf answered, a crafty look cominginto his eyes.

  Mason suddenly whipped the gun out of his pocket and leveled it at thedwarf.

  "Tell me the truth," he commanded sternly.

  "I thought you was trying to steal something, and
there was nobodyabout and I was left to guard the place," the dwarf whined.

  "That's a lie and you know it," Mason retorted, his ire rising oncemore. "You claim you were told to watch me, who gave you thoseorders?"

  Great beads of sweat stood out on the dwarf's ugly face, and hisclaw-like fingers were working like the talons of some great bird.

  "Ricker gave me orders to watch you. He has spies everywhere, he knowsyou and your father and hates you both. If you want to save your hideyou had better clear out of these parts," he snarled at last.

  Mason was astounded. That Ricker should know his father and have setthis half-witted dwarf to watching his son was a puzzle. He wasinclined to doubt the dwarf's sanity. So far as he knew his father hadno enemies in the world. He determined to sound the dwarf thoroughly.

  "Stand up," he commanded him sternly, holding the gun into the pit ofthe dwarf's stomach. "I am going to get at the bottom of this thing.What do you mean by saying that Ricker hates my father?" The dwarfrose in abject terror and started to mumble through chattering teeth.

  "Cut that out and talk like a man," Mason commanded him sharply.

  "Ricker claims that your father did him an injury long ago while theywere in the lumber business in the East. He says it is in his power toruin him now and he will ruin you, too," the dwarf snarled, glaringsavagely at him.

  Mason smiled grimly.

  "I've found out what I wanted to know and will act accordingly if itis true," he said, backing slowly out of the room.

  "Tell your precious master I will keep this little toy," tapping thegun he was holding, "to remember him by, and also tell him I said theMasons are hard to drive."

  Reaching the door he dropped the gun in his pocket and mounting hishorse rode slowly towards Trader's Post. He breathed a sigh of reliefwhen well out of sight of the ranch buildings.

  "Well, this is a rum go," he said softly to himself. "What willJosephine say when I tell her of my adventure. She'll say right offquick that I need a guardian, and bawl me out for not waiting for herto take me to the ranch as she promised."

  Still, he was troubled over what he had heard, and made up his mindthat if he didn't get a letter from his father soon he would write himall about it, or better still, take a trip East to warn him thatRicker was a desperate character.

  He was fast getting on to the ways of the West, and feeling the redblood flowing swiftly through his veins, he felt like getting intoaction on any trouble that might involve his father in peril.

  He meant to take Josephine into his confidence as soon as he got home,and Scotty, too, whom he felt sure he could trust. Thus musing tohimself he was covering ground at a slow canter.

  Again his thoughts would travel Eastward to his old friends, and thehope of getting his car soon raised his spirits high. Then heremembered Roy Purvis to whom he had said good-bye just before he hadstarted for the West.

  Roy had been a keen and enthusiastic automobile racer along withMason, and had just gone in for aviation. He had several bad spills inlearning, but was keener for flying than he ever had been forautomobile racing. He had laughingly made the remark to Mason that hemight expect a birdman to visit him in his chosen god-forsakencountry.

  "Just the thing," he said aloud to Sport, who was so startled that hebroke into a swift run. "Steady, old boy," he called softly, slowinghim down. "When I get to Trader's Post I will telegraph for Roy tocome on, and send in a hurry order for my car at the same time."

  It was an ideal day with a gentle wind blowing, and Mason drank indeep breaths of the pure air for his brain was still whirling with theadventures of the past hour. He could not connect his father's pastwith Ricker's life, try as he would. Then he remembered his fathernever had taken him into his confidence to any great extent, for hewas a man of few words.

  Mason knew that he held vast holdings in coal, and in the ironindustry, besides holding the controlling interest in his New Yorkbank. As for himself, he never had questioned his father on businessaffairs, being content to follow his own usual mad pursuits.

  Now, he wished he had taken more interest in his father's affairs, ashe was getting old. The two weeks he had been away from home had givenhim time to think over some of his own mad enterprises of the past,and he mentally resolved he would square himself with his father andprove he was a chip of the old block.

  The Masons came of good fighting stock, his father was born inVirginia and served through the Civil War. Mason's eyes were taking inthe surrounding country with keen delight as his thoughts ran in thischannel. Like most rich Americans, he had toured the principal citiesof Europe and seen little of his own country.

  "America for mine," he said aloud, his eyes aglow with health.

  He was but a few miles from Trader's Post now, and he wondered if hewould meet any of the boys from the ranch there. A few minutes laterhe entered the town and was giving his horse over to the care of ahostler with instructions to feed him well, along with a generous tip,when he heard a woman scream.

  Running out into the hotel inclosure he beheld a sight that made hisblood boil.

  It was a girl struggling in the arms of Pete Carlo, the halfbreed.With a bound, Mason was by her side and tearing the Mexican away fromher, he promptly knocked him down.

  "Great work," called a voice from the hotel porch.

  Mason turned and saw Bud and Scotty grinning at him. In the sameinstant, Bud's hand flashed from his hip, followed by a sharp report.

  He heard a cry of pain behind him, and bewildered, he turned again tosee the halfbreed nursing a pair of bleeding knuckles.

  Bud and Scotty strode toward them with burning wrath in their eyes.

  "The dirty skunk," Scotty was saying, as he kicked a gun out of thehalfbreed's reach. "He tried to bore you. Never turn your back on agreaser."

  "He's drunk," cut in Bud, "but that don't excuse him. Get up, youwhelp, and make tracks out of here, you'll lose your job for this."

  Bud took his gun and the halfbreed slunk away with muttered threats.Mason looked at the girl. She had recovered from her fright and wasregarding him with large dark eyes filled with gratitude, andsuspiciously close to the point of tears.

  He saw at a glance that she was a Spanish girl of unusual beauty.Taking off his hat he made her a bow and in return he was rewardedwith a dainty curtesy.

  Turning to Bud he shook his hand warmly and said,

  "Thanks, old man, you saved my life."

  "That's all right, Jack," the big fellow returned heartily. "You haveto watch them greasers. Come, Scotty, let's play a game of cards.Coming in soon?" he questioned of Mason.

  The latter nodded. He had turned his attention again to the girl.

  "Do you know that brute of a half breed?" he asked kindly.

  "Yes," she answered in a low musical voice.

  He was surprised at her command of grammar. She spoke almost pureEnglish.

  "He used to work on the Ricker ranch where I work," she added.

  Mason was surprised. So this was the Spanish girl that Josephine hadspoken to him about. He remembered she had said the girl was pretty.He remembered, also, his non-committal answer when she had asked himif he liked brunette beauty.

  The girl had stood silently while he was turning these thoughts overin his mind. Suddenly with a quick impulse she extended her hand tohim, her great eyes filled with deep pathos.

  "I wish to thank you for defending me against that beast. Oh, how Ihate him," she said with a shudder. "He made life miserable for mewhile he was at the ranch, and you disposed of him so easily."

  Her great eyes swept his stalwart build in silent admiration.

  "Please don't mention it. I am very glad to have been of someassistance to you," he said, a trifle embarrassed.

  "May I ask whom I am indebted to?" she questioned, as he turned toleave.

  "Certainly," he answered with a smile, "my name is Jack Mason."

  The girl gave a sudden start, and he fancied her face had turned pale.

  "My name is Waneda, g
ood-bye," she said, and was gone quickly.

  "Now, why in the deuce did she turn pale at the mention of my name?"he asked himself, as he started to join Bud and Scotty.

  Making his way to the card room he found only Scotty waiting for him.

  "Bud has gone on ahead," explained Scotty, "said he had almostforgotten a package that he wanted to get to the old man as soon aspossible."

  "All right, Scotty, old top," Mason replied cheerfully, "come overwith me to that little dump of a telegraph station we have here. Iwant to send a message."

  The dispatch sent, they made quick time home to the ranch, and Masontold Scotty all about his adventure at the Ricker ranch.

  They arrived home about dusk and put their horses up. Mason went atonce to the house. On the porch he found Bud and Josephine talkingearnestly.

  "Good evening, Miss," he greeted her as he came up to the porch. "Isuppose that Bud has told you all about me getting in Dutch at thePost and how I came near getting shot only for Bud here."

  "I heard all about it, sir," she said with icy coolness. "And alsoabout the girl," she added as a parting shot, disappearing in thehouse.

  Mason was taken completely by surprise.

  "Well, I'll be damned," he said weakly to himself.

 
Henry Holcomb Bennett's Novels