CHAPTER XXI
CLOSING IN
Nort, Mr. Hawkins and Yellin' Kid rode as fast as they might toward theShooting Star. It was their intention to reach the ranch and return assoon as possible, after having taken a bite to eat. The idea ofresting was given up as the hours flew by. It seemed no time at allbefore the stars grew dull, and the gray fingers of dawn spread out inthe east.
"Have to hurry," Hawkins commented as he fumbled around in the darkkitchen of the ranch. "Where in thunder is that lamp? Haven't you gotone out here?"
"Sure--I think so," Nort answered. "Have to hunt for it, though. I'mnot so certain of my ground here. It's all new to me, you know.
"Well, it's not in the corner, that's sure. Let's have another match,Kid. Ah, here we are!" The soft illumination of an oil lamp floodedthe room. "Got any non-exploding sand in this machine, Nort?"
"What's that?"
"It's something the gold-brick artists used to sell to farmer's wivesto keep lamps from exploding. Nothing hut plain, ordinary sand, butthe directions that came with it said to always keep the lamp clean,not to put too much oil in it, trim the wick, and so forth. Then putthe sand in and the lamp would never explode. Of course it wouldn't,if the directions were followed. But the sand didn't help any. It wasthe cleaning that did the trick. Yet the buyer bought peace of mindand security for ten cents, so the game wasn't so bad as it sounds."
"Pretty good!" the Kid laughed. "Never heard of that trick before, buta feller was out here last year sellin' an electric belt, guaranteed totake off ten pounds. All you had to do was to live on bread an' waterfor five days an' run two miles every morning, wearin' the electricbelt. Didn't do no business here, though, 'cause most of the boyswanted to put on weight, not lose it."
"Some graft," Hawkins declared. "Well, that's neither here nor there.Find that bread and meat, Nort?"
"Yep. Got it all fixed up. Say, by the way, I wonder where that Mexcook of ours went?"
"That's so too!" exclaimed Hawkins, as they hurriedly ate a lunch."Forgot all about him in the excitement. No use looking for him now, Isuppose. He may turn up."
"Then again he may not," the Kid spoke grimly. "We're well rid of him,I think. Don't like them Greasers nohow, and this one was no prizebeauty. Didn't Bud say he was one of Delton's men?"
"Said he might be. He's not so bad, Kid. He may be dumb, but I don'tthink he'd pull anything really raw."
"You seem right interested in him, Nort."
"No, it isn't that, but I just don't like to see you get him wrong.Well, never mind. Let it ride. How about starting back, Mr. Hawkins?"
"Right. Blow out that lamp, Kid, and let's be on our way."
The three made their way toward the door, moving by sense of touch. Asthey reached their ponies, tied up near the house, the moon was a paledisc hanging on the edge of the horizon. The chill wind of dawnstirred restlessly, and the men shivered slightly. Though their wetclothes had nearly dried, they were still a bit damp, and not conduciveto comfort on the open prairie.
"Just about make it if we step along," Nort said, looking up at thedimming stars.
"Takes a long while to get light out here," Yellin' Kid asserted."We'll get there before dawn. But let's go. I'm frozen."
The three threw their mounts into a gallop and set out once more forDelton's ranch.
"I had an idea that Billee Dobb wanted to stay with Bud," Nort said asthey sped along. "The old boy hates to miss any action."
"Well, I thought as long as he really wanted to go back, he might aswell go," Hawkins declared. "He might be of some help, after all.Never can tell what will happen when you're trailing a gang likeDelton's."
"You mean pretty rough, hey?"
"Sure! They have to be, to get along in their business. It's nochild's play, smuggling Chinese. And it's no picnic capturing them,either."
Over the darkened range the three rode, like avenging angels. No timenow for hesitating, and seeking a sure footing for the horses. Theymust take their chance. And if one spilled--well--it was all in thegame. They must reach Bud and Dick before dawn. To Nort, stickingtight to his galloping pony, it seemed to have been a waste of time toride all the way back to the Shooting Star. But on second thought herealized that it was necessary for them to have food, for they might begone some time. A man can neither fight nor ride well on an emptystomach.
"Nearly there!" commented the Kid. No one was wasting words now.Breath was too precious. The only sounds heard were the even beats ofthe ponies' feet on the earth, and the creaking of the saddles.Hawkins was riding well, the Kid saw, even though he did come from theeast. To the cowboy all places not west are "east," and so it was thatthe Kid looked upon Washington.
"Make it?" Nort called to the Kid.
"Sure! Coming to the water hole now."
The Kid's thoughts were racing along, keeping pace with the horses'flying feet. As is the case when one is engaged in work of amonotonous nature, such as riding, one's thoughts seem to whirl aboutin a circle, the same subjects recurring with regularity. The Kid wasthinking about his lost bronco. Then Delton. Then the reward. Thenback to the bronco again. And all the while the miles weredisappearing behind him.
Suddenly the Kid pulled his mount to a stop.
"Wait!" he cautioned. "Isn't that where we left Bud, just ahead?"
A group of trees rose in front. They had a familiar aspect.
"Sure looks like it!" Hawkins agreed.
"Let's take it easy. Kid, you lead, and go slow."
The three walked their horses toward the trees. As they came nearer,they made certain that they had reached their destination. And just intime. The sky was graying rapidly.
"You two wait here, and hold my new bronc," Yellin' Kid directedsoftly, "an' I'll go around on foot. See how the land lays. Allright, Mr. Hawkins?"
"All right, Kid. Go ahead. Then come back and tell us."
The Kid dismounted and handed his bridle rein to Nort. Then he walkedcarefully into the trees, and disappeared from view.
"See some action soon," Hawkins declared. He and Nort were waiting ontheir horses about three hundred yards from where the Kid haddisappeared into the trees. "The old ranch house is right back there.And this time I want to make sure of getting the whole gang."
"Don't you think they figured we followed them, and are all set for us?"
"Maybe. Can't help that. But I'm not so sure, Nort--you know they hadto get those Chinks to a place of safety. Couldn't let them wanderaround loose. And this was the only place they could go to. They hadno choice. And whether they figured we'd follow or not, they had todig in here."
"They sure got away neat before," Nort said, as he thought of theescape. "And if they hadn't wrecked their auto we'd probably neverhave seen them again. Now we've got a chance."
"Yes, and a little more than a chance. Wonder what's keeping the Kid.Told him to come right back."
"And here he comes--runnin'!" exclaimed Nort suddenly, as a figureburst into sight. "Something must be the matter!"
They spurred their horses toward the Kid, and met him half way.
"What is it?" Hawkins asked sharply.
"Billee Dobb!" Yellin' Kid panted. "He's--" It was an ominous pause.
"Not so loud! Easy!"
"It's Billee!" the Kid exclaimed in a lower voice. "They shot him!"
"Shot him! Is he dead?"
"Not yet. Looks pretty bad. Bleedin' hard. By golly, let's go afterthose yellow sneaks, an' get 'em!"
"Shot Billee Dobb," Nort said slowly, as though he couldn't believe it."Poor old Billee! Well--" he looked up sharply. "Let's go!"
The boy's lips were closed grimly. In his eyes shone a wild light.Whatever quarter would have been extended to the smugglers before, theycould expect none now. The chase had turned--had changed into apersonal venture. They had been seeking the capture of the smugglersbecause it had been their duty. Now----
"Men," Hawkin
s spoke in a low voice, clipping his words, "let's getstarted. We got work to do!"
There was not another word spoken. Belts were tightened, and gunsloosened in their holsters. Dawn was just breaking. The three menclosed in on the ranch house in silence.