CHAPTER XIII

  THE SHOT IN THE BACK

  For an instant after discovering Doubler lying in the doorway, Sheilastood motionless at the corner of the cabin, looking down wonderingly athim. She thought at first that he was merely resting, but his body wasdoubled up so oddly that a grave doubt rose in her mind. A vague fearclutched at her heart, and she stood rigid, her eyes wide as she lookedfor some sign that would confirm her fears. And then she saw a moist redpatch on his shirt on the right side just below the shoulder blade, and itseemed that a band of steel had been suddenly pressed down over herforehead. Something had happened to Doubler!

  The world reeled, objects around her danced fantastically, the trees inthe grove near her seemed to dip toward her in derision, her knees saggedand she held tightly to the corner of the cabin for support in herweakness.

  She saw it all in a flash. Dakota had been to visit Doubler and had shothim. She had heard the shot. Duncan had been right, and Dakota--how shedespised him now!--was probably even now picturing in his imagination thescene of her discovering the nester lying on his own threshold, murdered.An anger against him, which arose at the thought, did much to help herregain control of herself.

  She must be brave now, for there might still be life in Doubler's body,and she went slowly toward him, cringing and shrinking, along the wall ofthe cabin.

  She touched him first, lightly with the tips of her fingers, callingsoftly to him in a quavering voice. Becoming more bold, she took hold ofhim by the left shoulder and shook him slightly, and her heart seemed toleap within her when a faint moan escaped his lips. Her fear fledinstantly as she realized that he was alive, that she had not to deal witha dead man.

  Stifling a quivering sob she took hold of him again, tugging and pullingat him, trying to turn him over so that she might see his face. Sheobserved that the red patch on his shoulder grew larger with the effort,and her face grew paler with apprehension, but convinced that she mustpersist she shut her eyes and tugged desperately at him, finallysucceeding in pulling him over on his back.

  He moaned again, though his face was ashen and lifeless, and with hopefilling her heart she redoubled her efforts and finally succeeded indragging him inside the cabin, out of the sun, where he lay inert, withwide-stretched arms, a gruesome figure to the girl.

  Panting and exhausted, some stray wisps of hair sweeping her temples, therest of it threatening to come tumbling down around her shoulders, sheleaned against one of the door jambs, thinking rapidly. She ought to havehelp, of course, and her thoughts went to Dakota, riding unconcernedlyaway on the river trail. She could not go to him for assistance, such acourse was not to be considered, she would rather let Doubler die than togo to his murderer; she could never have endured the irony of such anaction. Besides, she was certain that even were she to go to him, he wouldfind some excuse to refuse her, for having shot the nester, he certainlywould do nothing toward bringing the help which might possibly restore himto life.

  She put aside the thought with a shudder of horror, yet conscious thatsomething must be done for Doubler at once if he was to live. Perhaps itwas already too late to go for assistance; there seemed to be but verylittle life in his body, and trembling with anxiety she decided that shemust render him whatever aid she could. There was not much that she coulddo, to be sure, but if she could do something she might keep him aliveuntil other help would come.

  She stood beside the door jamb and watched him for some time, for shedreaded the idea of touching him again, but after a while her couragereturned, and she again went to him, kneeling down beside him, laying herhead on his breast and listening. His heart was beating, faintly, butstill it was beating, and she rose from him, determined.

  She found a sheath knife in one of his pockets, and with this she cut theshirt away from the wound, discovering, when she drew the pieces of clothaway, that there was a large, round hole in his breast. She came near toswooning when she thought of the red patch on his back, for that seemed toprove that the bullet had gone clear through him. It had missed a vitalspot, though, she thought, for it seemed to be rather high on theshoulder.

  She got some water from a pail that stood just inside the door, and withthis and some white cloth which she tore from one of her skirts, shebathed and bandaged the wound and laid a wet cloth on his forehead. Shetried to force some of the water down his throat, but he could notswallow, lying there with closed eyes and drawing his breath in short,painful gasps.

  After she had worked with him for a quarter of an hour or more she stoodup, convinced that she had done all she could for him and that the nextmove would be to get a doctor.

  She had heard Duncan say that it was fifty miles to Dry Bottom, and sheknew that it was at least forty to Lazette. She had never heard anyonemention that there was a doctor nearer, and so of course she would have togo to Lazette--ten miles would make a great difference.

  She might ride to the Double R ranchhouse, and she thought of going there,but it was at least ten miles off the Lazette trail, and even though atthe Double R she might get a cowboy to make the ride to Lazette, she wouldbe losing much valuable time. She drew a deep breath over thecontemplation of the long ride--at best it would take her four hours--butshe did not hesitate long and with a last glance at Doubler she was out ofthe door and walking to the corral, where she unhitched her pony, mounted,and sent the animal over the level toward the crossing at a sharp gallop.

  Once over the crossing and on the river trail where the riding was better,she held the pony to an even, steady pace. One mile, two miles, five orsix she rode with her hair flying in the breeze, her cheeks pale, exceptfor a bright red spot in the center of each--which betrayed the excitementunder which she was laboring. There was a resolute gleam in her eyes,though, and she rode lightly, helping her pony as much as possible.However, the animal was fresh and did not seem to mind the pace, cavortingand lunging up the rises and pulling hard on the reins on the levels,showing a desire to run. She held it in, though, realizing that during theforty mile ride the animal would have plenty of opportunity to prove itsmettle.

  She reached and passed the quicksand crossing from which she had beenpulled by Dakota, the pony running with the sure regularity of a machine,and was on a level which led into some hills directly ahead, when the ponystumbled.

  She tried to jerk it erect with the reins, but in spite of the effort shefelt it sink under her, and with a sensation of dismay clutching at herheart she slid out of the saddle.

  A swift examination showed her that the pony's right fore-leg was deep inthe sand of the trail, and she surmised instantly that it had stepped intoa prairie dog hole. When she went to it and raised its head it lookedappealingly at her, and she stifled a groan of sympathy and began lookingabout for some means to extricate it.

  She found this no easy task, for the pony's leg was deep in the sand, andwhen she finally dug a space around it with a branch of tree which sheprocured from a nearby grove, the animal struggled out, only to limpbadly. The leg, Sheila decided, after a quick examination, was not broken,but badly sprained, and she knew enough about horses to be certain thatthe injured pony would never be able to carry her to Lazette.

  She would be forced to go to the Double R now, there was nothing else thatshe could do. Standing beside the pony, debating whether she had notbetter walk than try to ride him, even to the Double R, she heard aclatter of hoofs and turned to see Dakota riding the trail toward her. Hewas traveling in the direction she had been traveling when the accidenthad happened, and apparently had left the trail somewhere back in thedistance, or she would have seen him. Perhaps, she speculated, with aflash of dull anger, he had followed her near to Doubler's cabin, perhapshad been near when she had dragged the wounded nester into it.

  His first word showed her that there was ground for this suspicion. Hedrew up beside her and looked at her with a queer smile, and she, aware ofhis guilt, wondered at his composure.

  "You didn't stay long at Doubler's shack," he said. "I was on a ridge,back on the tr
ail a ways, and I saw you hitting the breeze away from theresome rapid. I was thinking to intercept you, but you went tearing by sofast that I didn't get a chance. You're in an awful hurry. What's wrong?"

  "You ought to know that," she said, bitterly angry because of hispretended serenity. "You--you murderer!"

  His face paled instantly, but his voice was clear and sharp.

  "Murderer?" he said sternly. "Who has been murdered?"

  "You don't know, of course," she said scornfully, her face flaming, hereyes alight with loathing and contempt. "You shot him and then let me rideon alone to--to find him, shot--shot in the back! Oh!"

  She shuddered at the recollection, held her hands over her eyes for aninstant to keep from looking at the expression of amazement in his eyes,and while she stood thus she heard a movement, and withdrew her hands fromher eyes to see him standing beside her, so close that his body touchedhers, his eyes ablaze with curiosity and interest and repressed anxiety.She cringed and cried with pain as he seized her arm and twisted herforcibly around so that she faced him.

  "Stop this fooling and tell me what has happened!" he said, with short,incisive accents. "Who did you find shot? Who has been murdered?"

  Oh, it was admirable acting, she told herself as she tore herself awayfrom him and stood back a little, her eyes flashing with scorn and horror."You don't know, of course," she flared. "You shot him--shot him in theback and sent me on to find him. You gloried in the thought of me findinghim dead. But he isn't dead, thank God, and will live, if I can get adoctor, to accuse you!" She pointed a finger at him, but he ignored it andtook a step toward her, his eyes cold and boring into hers.

  "Who?" he demanded. "Who?"

  "Ben Doubler. Oh!" she cried, in an excess of rage and horror, "to thinkthat I should have to tell you!"

  But if he heard her last words he paid no attention to them, for he wassuddenly at his pony's side, buckling the cinches tighter. She watchedhim, fascinated at the repressed energy of his movements, and became sointerested that she started when he suddenly looked up at her.

  "He isn't dead, then," he said rapidly, sharply, the words coming withshort, metallic snaps. "You were going to Lazette for a doctor. I'm glad Ihappened along--glad I saw you. I'll be able to make better time thanyou."

  "Where are you going?" she demanded, scarcely having heard his words,though aware that he was preparing to leave. She took a step forward andseized his pony's bridle rein, her eyes blazing with wrath over thethought that he should attempt to deceive her with so bald a ruse.

  "For the doctor," he said shortly. "This is no time for melodramatics,ma'am, if Doubler is badly hurt. Will you please let go of that bridle?"

  "Do you think," she demanded, her cheeks aflame, her hair, loosened fromthe long ride, straggling over her temples and giving her a singularlydisheveled appearance, "that I am going to let you go for the doctor?You!"

  "This isn't a case where your feelings should be considered, ma'am," hesaid. "If Ben Doubler has been hurt like you think he has I'm going to getthe doctor mighty sudden, whether you think I ought to or not!"

  "You won't!" she declared, stamping a; foot furiously. "You shot him andnow you want to disarm suspicion by going after the doctor for him. Butyou won't! I won't let you!"

  "You'll have to," he said rapidly. "The doctor isn't at Lazette; he isover on Carrizo Creek, taking care of Dave Moreland's wife, who is downbad. I saw Dave yesterday, and he was telling me about her; that thedoctor is to stay there until she is out of danger. You don't know whereMoreland's place is. Be sensible, now," he said gruffly. "I'll talk to youlater about you suspecting me."

  "You shan't go," she protested; "I am going myself. I will find Moreland'splace. I can't let you go--it would be horrible!"

  For answer he swung quickly down from the saddle, seized her by the waist,disengaged her hands from the bridle rein, and picking her up bodilycarried her, struggling and fighting and striking blindly at his face, tothe side of the trail. When he set her down he pinned her arms to hersides. He did not speak, and she was entirely helpless in his grasp, butwhen he released his grasp of her arms and tried to leave her she seizedthe collar of his vest. With a grim laugh he slipped out of the garment,leaving it dangling from her hand.

  "Keep it for me, ma'am," he said with a cold chuckle. "But get back toDoubler's cabin and see what you can do for him. You'll be able to do alot. I'll be back with the doctor before sundown."

  In an instant he was at his pony's side, mounting with the animal at arun, and in a brief space had vanished around a turn in the trail, leavinga cloud of dust to mark the spot where Sheila had seen him disappear.

  For a long time Sheila stood beside the trail, looking at the spot wherehe had disappeared, holding his vest with an unconscious grasp. Lookingdown she saw it and with an exclamation of rage threw it from her,watching it fall into the sand. But after an instant she went over andtook it up, recovering, at the same time, a black leather pocket memorandawhich had slipped out of it. She put the memoranda back into one of thepockets, handling both the book and the vest gingerly, for she felt anaversion to touching them. She conquered this feeling long enough to tuckthe vest into the slicker behind the saddle, and then she mounted and senther pony up the trail toward Doubler's cabin.

  She found Doubler where she had left him, and he was still unconscious.The water pail was empty and she went down to the river and refilled it,returning to the cabin and again bathing and bandaging Doubler's wound,and placing a fresh cloth on his forehead.

  For a time she sat watching the injured man, revolving the incident of herdiscovery of him in her mind, going over and over again the gruesomedetails. She did not dwell long on the latter, for she could not preventher mind reviewing Dakota's words and actions--his satanic cleverness inpretending to be on the verge of taking her into his confidence, hisprediction that she would understand when this "business" was over. Shedid not need to wait, she understood now!

  Finding the silence in the cabin irksome, she rose, placed Doubler's headin a more comfortable position, and went outside into the bright sunshineof the afternoon. She took a turn around the corral, abstractedly watchedthe awkward antics of several yearlings which were penned in a corner, andthen returned to the cabin door, where she sat on the edge of the step.

  Near the side of the cabin door, leaning against the wall, she saw arifle. She started, not remembering to have seen it there before, butpresently she found courage to take it up gingerly, turning it over andover in her hands.

  Some initials had been carved on the stock and she examined them, makingthem out finally as "B. D."--Doubler's. Examining the weapon she found anempty shell in the chamber, and she nearly dropped the rifle when thethought struck her that perhaps Doubler had been shot with it. She set itdown quickly, shuddering, and for diversion walked to her pony, examiningthe injured leg and rubbing it, the pony nickering gratefully. Returningto the cabin she sat for a long time on the step, but she did not againtake up the rifle. Several times while she sat on the step she heardDoubler moan, and once she got up and went to him, again bathing hiswound, but returning instantly to the door step, for she could not bearthe silence of the interior.

  Suddenly remembering Dakota's vest and the black leather memoranda whichhad dropped from one of the pockets, she got up again and went to thebench where she had laid the garment, taking out the book and regarding itwith some curiosity.

  There was nothing on the cover to suggest what might be the nature of itscontents--time had worn away any printing that might have been on it. Shehesitated, debating the propriety of an examination, but her curiosity gotthe better of her and with a sharp glance at Doubler she turned her backand opened the book.

  Almost the first object that caught her gaze was a piece of paper,detached from the leaves, with some writing on it. The writing seemedunimportant, but as she turned it, intending to replace it between theleaves of the book, she saw her father's name, and she read, holding herbreath with dread, for fresh in her mind was Dun
can's charge that herfather had entered into an agreement with Dakota for the murder ofDoubler. She read the words several times, standing beside the bench andswaying back and forth, a sudden weakness gripping her.

  "One month from to-day"--ran the words--"I promise to pay to Dakota thesum of six thousand dollars in consideration of his rights and interest inthe Star brand, provided that within one month from date he persuades BenDoubler to leave Union County."

  Signed: "David Dowd Langford."

  There it was--conclusive, damning evidence of her father's guilt--and ofDakota's!

  How cleverly that last clause covered the evil intent of the document!Sheila read it again and again with dry eyes. Her horror and grief weretoo great for tears. She felt that the discovery of the paper removed thelast lingering doubt, and though she had been partially prepared forproof, she had not been prepared to have it thrust so quickly andconvincingly before her.

  How long she sat on the door step she did not know, or care, for at astroke she had lost all interest in everything in the country. Even itspeople interested her only to the point of loathing--they were murderers,even her father. Time represented to her nothing now except a dreary spacewhich, if she endured, would bring the moment in which she could leave.For within the last few minutes she seemed to have been robbed of all thethings which had made existence here endurable and she was determined toend it all. When she finally got up and looked about her she saw that thesun had traveled quite a distance down the sky. A sorrowful smile reachedher face as she watched it. It was going away, and before it couldcomplete another circle she would go too--back to the East from where shehad come, where there were at least _some_ friends who could be dependedupon to commit no atrocious crimes.

  No plan of action formed in her mind; she could not think lucidly with theknowledge that her father was convicted of complicity in an attemptedmurder.

  Would she be able to face her father again? To bid him good-bye? Shethought not. It would be better for both if she departed without him beingaware of her going. He would not care, she told herself bitterly; latelyhe had withheld from her all those little evidences of affection to whichshe had grown accustomed, and it would not be hard for him, he would notmiss her, perhaps would even be glad of her absence, for then he couldcontinue his murderous schemes without fear of her "meddling" with them.

  There was a fascination in the paper on which was written the signedagreement. She read it carefully again, and then concealed it in herbodice, pinning it there so that it would not become lost. Then she roseand went into the cabin, placing the memoranda on a shelf where Dakotawould be sure to find it when he returned with the doctor. She did notcare to read anything contained in it.

  Marveling at her coolness, she went outside again and resumed her seat onthe door step. It was not such a blow to her, after all, and there arosein her mind as she sat on the step a wonder, as to how her father wouldact were she to confront him with evidence of his guilt. Perhaps she wouldnot show him the paper, but she finally became convinced that she musttalk to him, must learn from him in some manner his connection with theattempted murder of Doubler. Then, after receiving from him some signwhich would convince her, she would take her belongings and depart for theEast, leaving him to his own devices.

  Looking up at the sun, she saw that it still had quite a distance totravel before it reached the mountains. Stealing into the cabin, she oncemore fixed the bandages on the wounded man. Then she went out, mounted herpony, and rode through the shallow water of the crossing toward the DoubleR ranch.