Judith of Blue Lake Ranch

by Jackson Gregory

  XIII

  THE CAPTURE OF SHORTY

  It came about, quite as matters often do, that at thethree-mile-distant ranch headquarters it was one who knew comparativelylittle of the ways of this part of the world who was first to suspectthat all was not well with Judith Sanford. To Pollock Hampton herfailure to appear at dinner was significant.

  Together with the other newcomers to the ranch from the city he hadbeen deeply moved by yesterday's outlawry. Drawing upon a vividimagination, he peopled the woods with desperate characters. Whenafter dinner an hour passed without bringing Judith, he began to showsigns of nervous anxiety. Without making his fears known to hisfriends, he went to the office and telephoned to Doc Tripp. All thatTripp could tell him was that he didn't know where Judith was anddidn't care; she could take care of herself. Though the veterinariandidn't say as much, he was at the moment puzzled by the new sicknessamong the hogs and his irritable concern in this matter allowed himscant interest in other people's affairs.

  Hampton learned from Mrs. Simpson that in the afternoon Judith after ahurried lunch had taken her rifle and ridden away. Where? Mrs.Simpson did not know. But she grasped the opportunity to confide inHampton a certain suspicion which she held in connection with therobbery and killing of Bud Lee's horse under him--a suspicion which wasgrowing rapidly into positive certainty. She didn't like to mentionthe matter to him, since Fujioki was his servant. But had he notedFujioki and that other black Spanish, Jose? They had a community ofinterest which must extend far beyond racial kinship; they were, evenat this very second, out in the courtyard together talking in subduedvoices. Mrs. Simpson had been raised a lady, Mr. Hampton, sir; and sheknew that in the best families one was not supposed to eavesdrop. Butat a time like this. . . . Well, she _had_ crept up behind thelilac-bushes and they _were_ speaking guardedly about the hold-up!Almost in whispers, with every sign of guilt----

  "Hurried lunch?" said Hampton. "Took her rifle, did she?"

  His eyes had grown very serious as he stared down into Mrs. Simpson'sconcerned face.

  "Send Jose to me," was what he said next.

  "Aren't you afraid, Mr. Hampton?" she exclaimed, picturing to herselfthis pleasant young gentleman at death-grips with the sombre Jose.However, she obeyed and called Jose whom Hampton merely sent to themen's quarters with word for Carson and Lee to come to the house. Mrs.Simpson, witnessing the bloodless meeting from the hallway, was alittle relieved and very much disappointed.

  Hampton strode up and down the office, the frown gathering upon hisusually smooth brows. Plainly if something had happened to Judith thepresent responsibility lay upon his shoulders as next in authority.

  "Here I am," announced Carson briefly. "What is it?"

  "I am a little worried, Carson," said Hampton, "about Miss Sanford."

  "Huh?" grunted the old cattleman.

  "Judith hasn't put in an appearance and it's growing late," continuedHampton hastily "I'm afraid----"

  "Afraid? Afraid of what? You don't think she eloped with your Jap orstole the spoons, do you?" snapped Carson. He had been interrupted atthe crucial point in a game of cribbage with Poker Face and thecattleman's weak spot was cribbage. He glared at Hampton belligerently.

  "Where is Lee?" questioned Hampton sharply. "I told Jose I wanted thetwo of you. Why didn't he come?"

  "Dunno," answered Carson, still without interest. "I ain't seen him.Wasn't in for supper----"

  "I tell you," cried Hampton, angry at Carson's quiet acceptance offacts which to him were darkly significant, "he, too, was out with hisrifle to-day; I saw him myself. Now _he_ fails to show up! Don't yousee what all this points to?"

  Carson, who seldom lost his poise with one-half of his brain stillgiven over to the hand he meant to play with Poker Face, merely sighedand shook his head.

  "I'm real busy down at the bunk-house, Mr. Hampton," at last came hisquiet answer, "where me an' Poker Face is figuring out somethingimportant. As for worrying about a man like Bud Lee or a girl likeJudy, why, I just ain't going to do it a-tall. Most likely if you'llcall up the Lower End----"

  "I've done it!" Whirling in his impatient stride across the room,Hampton came swiftly to Carson's side. "They're not there. They leftthe Lower End this afternoon and came on here. Then, both armed, theyrode away again at four or five o'clock. I tell you, man, somethinghas happened to them."

  "Don't believe it," retorted Carson. "Not for one little half-minute,I don't. What's to happen? Huh?"

  "You know as well as I do what sort of characters are about. The manwho robbed Charlie Miller--who shot at Bud Lee----"

  "Whoa!" grinned Carson. "Don't you go and fool yourself. Thatstick-up gent is a clean hundred miles from here right now an' stillgoing, real lively. If any other jasper lent him a hand, why, he's onhis way, too. Not stopping to pick flowers. It's the way them kindplays the game."

  Carson was so cheerfully certain, so amused at the thought of Bud Leeand Judith Sanford requiring anybody's assistance, so confidentconcerning the methods of outlaws, that finally Hampton sent him away,half assured, and went himself to his friends in the living-room. Herehe found the major and Mrs. Langworthy reading and yawning. Marcialaughed at a jest of Farris's, while Rogers sought to interest her inhimself. The every-day, homelike atmosphere had its effect in allayinghis picturesque fears. Hampton noted how her handful of days in thecountry had done Marcia a world of good, putting fresh, warm color inher rather pale cheeks, breeding a new sparkle in her eyes. She wasgood to look upon.

  He let half an hour slip by in restless inactivity. For, no matterwhat Carson might say or these people in here do, Judith had not yetcome in. When Marcia addressed a bright remark to him, he started andstammered: "I _beg_ your pardon!" They laughed at him, saying thatPollock Hampton was growing absent-minded in his old age. But theirbanter failed to reach him; he was telling himself that some accidentmight have befallen one or both of two persons whom he frankly admiredfor their efficiency.

  By half past eight they had caught his uneasiness. At every littlesound they turned expectantly. Still no Judith. Mrs. Simpson,comfortable woman that she was, came in, bustling with apprehension.Mrs. Langworthy shook off for a little her listlessness and recountedhow she had watched "that girl" riding like a wild Indian toward theUpper End. Perhaps her gun had gone off accidentally.

  "Or," she concluded with a touch of venom, "it wouldn't be above her torun off with that long horse foreman."

  "Eh?" said the major. "Don't believe it. A fine fig--ahem. Whereshould she run to? And why run at all?"

  Marcia looked a quick distress to Mr. Hampton.

  "It _is_ late," she said timidly, "Oh, Pollock! Do you think----"

  No longer to be restrained, Hampton left them and went to his room fora rifle and cartridge-belt. He intended to slip out quietly, feelingthat he would get from Farris and Rogers only the sort of disbelief hehad gotten from Carson. Marcia met him in the hall; she had heard hisquick steps and guessed that he was going out. Now clearly, though shewas frightened, she was delighted with him. He had never thrilled herlike this before. She had never guessed that Pollock Hampton could beso stern-faced, so purposeful. She whispered an entreaty that he becareful, then as he went out, ran back to the others, her eyes shining.

  "Pollock is going to see what is the matter," she announced excitedly.Whereat Mrs. Langworthy stared at her and then indicated facially hersupreme disgust. The major suggested taking something, the occasion soplainly demanding it.

  Hampton passed swiftly through the courtyard. He saw the light of thebunk-house gleaming brightly. On his way down the knoll he came uponTommy Burkitt.

  "Is it Mr. Hampton?" asked Tommy, coming close in the darkness to peerat him.

  "Yes. What is it? Who are you?"

  "I'm Burkitt, Tommy Burkitt, you know--Bud Lee's helper. I--I amafraid something has happened. Lee hasn't come in yet; they tried topick him off once already, you know----"

  "Nei
ther has Miss Sanford come in," said Hampton quickly, sensing hereat last a fear that was fellow to his own. "They rode toward the UpperEnd. You know the way, Burkitt?"

  He moved on toward the corral; Burkitt turned and came with him.

  "Sure I know the trail," muttered Tommy. "You're goin' to see what'swrong with 'em! Miss Judy, too! My God----"

  "Bring out a couple of horses," Hampton commanded crisply. "We've losttime enough already."

  "I'll go tell Carson an' the boys----"

  "I have already told Carson. He says it's all nonsense. Leave himalone."

  Tommy, boy that he was, asked no further questions, but ran ahead andbrought out two horses. In a twinkling he had saddled them, and thetwo riders, each with a rifle across his arm, were hurrying over themountain trail.

  In the blackness which lay along the upper river Hampton gave his horsea free rein and let it follow at Tommy's heels. The roar of thelashing water, the pounding of shod hoofs, the whining creak ofsaddle-leather were the only sounds coming to them out of the night.When, finally, they drew rein under the cliffs at the lake's edge allwas silent save for the faint distant booming of the river below them.

  "Now which way?" whispered Hampton, his voice eloquent of suppressedexcitement and eagerness.

  Tommy was shaking his head in uncertainty when suddenly from abovethere came to them the sharp report of a rifle. Then, like a bundle atfirecrackers, a volley of half a dozen staccato shots.

  "Listen to that, Burkitt," muttered Hampton. "They're at it now--we'reon time----"

  Tommy slipped from the saddle wordlessly, came to Hampton's side andtugged gently at his leg, whispering for him to get down. Leavingtheir horses there, they slipped into the utter darkness of the narrowchasm in the rocks which gave access to the plateau above.

  "Now," cautioned Tommy guardedly, as they came to the top, "keep closeto me if you don't want to take a header about a thousan' feet. Look!"He nudged Hampton and pointed. "There are two horses across yonder;Bud's an' Miss Judy's, most likely."

  Hampton did not see them, did not seek to see them. Something new,vital, big, had swept suddenly into his life. He was at gripsfirst-hand with unmasked, pulsing forces. A tremor went through himand he was not ashamed of it; for it was not the quaking of fear, butthe thrill in the blood of a man who, plucked from a round of socialartificialities, finds himself with the smell of burnt powder in hisnostrils and who feels a swift eagerness for what may lie just yonderwaiting for him. "They're at it now!" he whispered to Burkitt.Men--yes, and a girl--were shooting, not at just wooden and papertargets, but at other men! At men who shot back, and shot to kill.

  "Listen," said Burkitt. "Somebody's in the old cabin; somebody'soutside. Which is which? We got to be awful careful."

  They began a slow, cautious approach, slipping from bush to bush, fromtree to tree, standing motionless now and then to frown into the foldsof the night's curtains. Abruptly the firing ceased. They made outvaguely the two forms of the attackers, having located them a momentago by the spurting flames from their guns. Then, "Got enough inthere?" came the snarling voice of Quinnion. "If you haven't, I'mgoing to burn you out an' be damned to you!"

  He got an answer he little expected. For Hampton, running out into theopen, now that he knew that Bud and Judith must be in the cabin, wasfiring as he came. Burkitt's rifle spoke with his.

  "Run for it, Shorty!" yelled Quinnion. "You know where. We're upagainst the Blue Lake boys."

  "Bud!" shouted Tommy. "Oh, Bud!"

  "In the cabin," came Bud's ringing answer. "Give 'em hell, Tommy!Coming!"

  With his words came the sound of the door snapping back against thewall, the reports of Tommy's rifle and Hampton's pumping hot lead aftertwo racing forms.

  "They'll get away!" shouted Hampton, a sudden red rage upon him."Curse it! It's too dark----"

  Then Tommy gave over shooting and yelled to Lee to hold his fire. Forinstead of two there were three flying forms, three fast-racing,blurring, shadowy shapes merging with the night. Pollock Hampton, hisrifle clubbed in his hand, was running with a college sprinter's speedafter Quinnion and Shorty, calling breathlessly:

  "Look out, they'll get away!"

  Once Quinnion stopped to shoot back. The hissing lead went wide of thepursuer and he gave over firing and settled down to good, hard running,disappearing from Hampton's staring eyes. But Shorty was still to beseen, running heavily.

  "Don't shoot, Bud!" cried Tommy again as two figures ran out of thecabin. "Hampton's out there--the crazy fool----"

  "Hampton, come back!" shouted Lee, running after him.

  But Hampton was gaining on the heavy-set Shorty and had no thought ofcoming back. Nor a thought of anything in all the wide world just thenbut overtaking the flying figure in front of him. Shorty stumbled overa fallen log and rose, cursing and calling:

  "Chris! Lend a hand."

  That little chance of an uprooted tree saved Hampton's life that night.Shorty, falling, had dropped his gun and hurt his knee. For a momenthe groped wildly for the lost rifle, then ran on without it. Hamptoncleared the log, and with a yell rather befitting a victorious savagethan the young man whom Mrs. Langworthy hoped to call her son, threwhis long arms about Shorty's neck.

  "I got him!" shouted Hampton. "By glory----"

  Shorty drove a big brutal fist smashing into his captor's face. ButHampton merely lowered his head, hiding it against Shorty's heavingshoulder, and tightened his grip. Shorty struggled to his feet,shaking at him, tearing at him, driving one fist after the other intoHampton's body. But with a grimness of purpose as new to him as wasthe whole of to-night's adventure Hampton held on.

  Judith and Lee and Burkitt came to them as they were falling again.Now suddenly, with other hard hands upon him, Shorty relaxed, andHampton, his face bloody, his body sore, sank back. He had done a madthing--but triumph lay in that he had done it.

  "A man never can tell," muttered Bud Lee, with less thought of thecaptive than of the captor--"never can tell."

  "I am thinking," said Judith wonderingly, "that I never quite did youjustice, Pollock Hampton!"