CHAPTER XXXII
RED KING RUNS
Sheriff Moreton had left Red King at the livery stable, and after Lawlerhad thanked the sheriff for his part in the little drama that had justbeen played, he walked to the stable, saddled and bridled the big horse,mounted and rode out of town, toward the Circle L.
While grim tragedy had lurked over the incident that had just closed,the thing had had its humorous side. And as Lawler rode he reflectedsmilingly, though feeling a pulse of shame for Della Wharton.
In spite of the fact that the woman had charged Gary Warden withevolving the plot, Lawler felt nothing but contempt for the man.Warden's schemes, so far, had resulted only in discomfiture for Wardenhimself. And because Lawler was not vindictive, he entertained nothoughts of reprisal.
However, Lawler was now well equipped with evidence of Warden'smisdeeds. Months before, he had sent to Metcalf, the editor of the_News_, in the capital, the story of the drive to Red Rock, embellishedwith an account of his adventure with Antrim's gang, his capture ofAntrim and the subsequent bringing of the outlaw to Willets, where hehad delivered him to Warden.
Metcalf had written him that the publication of the article had createda sensation in the state, and it appeared from the prominent position inwhich Metcalf had placed the story--on the front page, with a picture ofLawler dominating; and big, black headlines announcing:
"PROMINENT CATTLEMAN WORSTS TRAIL HORDE!"--that Metcalf had kept hispromise to the effect that he intended to "feature" his fight againstthe power that was attempting to control the cattle industry.
So far, though, Lawler had no evidence that the governor's power hadbeen used against them. He was convinced that Warden, Jordan, Simmons,and the others were employing their talents against him with the secretapproval of the governor; but until he secured absolute, damningevidence he dared not openly charge it.
Lawler had been waiting patiently for such evidence. He had felt allalong that sooner or later his enemies would over-reach themselves,leaving some weak spot through which he could attack, and he had beencontent to wait until that time, merely defending himself and hisinterests, planning no aggressive campaign.
The effect of the assaults of his enemies thus far had disturbed himlittle. He had been able to anticipate most of their attacks and theyhad resulted in little harm to himself. They had left him unperturbed,unharmed--like the attacks of an excitable poodle upon a giant,contemptuous mastiff.
Deep in his heart, though, lurked a spark of passion that, day by day,had been slowly growing, warming him, making his veins swell a littlewhen his thoughts dwelt upon Warden and the others; bringing into hisheart a savage longing that he often had yielded to in the olddays--before he had learned to control his passions. There were timeswhen he was almost persuaded to break the laws for which he had foughtin the old days--moments when it seemed to him that further tolerationof the attacks of his enemies would be a sign of weakness. But he hadconquered those surges of passion, though the victory always left himwith a smile on his face that would have awed Warden, had he seen it.
Something of that passion was in his heart now, as he rode toward theCircle L. It had become plain to him that Warden would adopt any meansto destroy him; that in the man's heart was a malignant hatred that wasdriving him to a boldness that could mean nothing but that in the endthey must settle their differences as man to man. Lawler would notalways be able to control the passion that lurked in him. He knew it.One day Warden would press him too hard. And then----
His thoughts had made him oblivious to his surroundings. A whinney fromRed King brought him out of his ruminations, and he looked swiftly up,and then directly ahead, to see a horseman racing toward him; the ridercrouched in the saddle, the horse running low, coming toward him at aspeed that brought him out of depressions with light, flying bounds, andover the crests of small hills with a velocity that was dizzying.
The running horse and the crouching rider were still a mile from Lawler;but even at that distance Lawler recognized Shorty, and he urged RedKing on to meet him, suspecting that nothing but a stern emergency wouldmake the man race his horse at that speed.
Lawler glanced back as he rode. He had come several miles, and therolling character of the plains behind him had blotted Willets out. Hesaw, too, that he had reached a point where three trails converged.One--which Shorty was traveling--came westward from the TwoBar--Hamlin's ranch; the other, leading almost straight southward, wasthe Circle L trail; the third, leading southward also, though incliningin a westward direction, ran to the Rabbit Ear, near the Dickmancabin--the ranch where Antrim and his men had established themselves.
Shorty came on at cyclonic speed. When he reached a point within ahundred yards of Lawler, the latter observed that Shorty's face waspale; that his jaws were set and his eyes glowing with a wild, savagelight.
Stiffening, his lips straightening, a responsive passion assailing him,Lawler drew Red King down and waited for Shorty to reach him. He knewShorty did not permit himself to become excited without cause.
And when Shorty drew his horse to a sliding halt within half a dozenpaces of Red King, Lawler saw that Shorty was in the grip of a cold,deadly passion. His eyes were glittering, his lips were stiff and white,and he was drawing great, long breaths that could be heard above theshuddering gasps of the horse he rode.
The giant's fingers were working--clenching and unclenching near thebutts of the two guns he wore; and his eyes were pools of icy rage thatchilled Lawler.
Twice he tried to speak as Lawler shot a short question at him, andtwice he failed, making guttural sounds that betrayed the awfulagitation that had seized him. At the third attempt he blurted:
"Lawler, Antrim's gang has cleaned up the Circle L! Damn their sneakin',dirty hides! They've run off our cattle--takin' 'em through Kinney'scanon! They've wiped out the Circle L outfit! Blackburn'sleft--Blackburn an' three more poor fellows they plugged, an' didn'tfinish!
"Blackburn made me ride for help--damn him, anyway, Lawler! I wanted tostay with the bunch!" Shorty's voice broke; his lips quivered; his voicerose to a screech of impotent, awful rage. Brokenly, he told Lawler whathad happened after the stampeding of the cattle by Antrim's men. Herelated, in tumbling, rapid, quavering sentences, how he had got thehelp Blackburn had sent him for--Caldwell's outfit--with the exceptionof two men who had been sent in different directions to other ranches.And how, later in the morning, he had returned to the shallow gulley onthe plains where he had left Blackburn and the others, to find most ofthem dead. Blackburn and three more had been wounded, but had survived.
"Fifteen men, Lawler!" raged Shorty; "fifteen men wiped out by thatmiserable gang of coyotes! But damn them!" he added with a fierce,savage joy; "they didn't get away without payin' toll, either! There'stwenty of them layin' out there, Lawler--twenty of them for the coyotesto find. For Caldwell an' his outfit wouldn't touch 'em. When I left, tocome an' tell you--thinkin' you was in jail--Caldwell an' his boys wasplantin' our fellows, an' takin' Blackburn and the three others to theHamlin shack!"
He looked hard at Lawler, noted the paleness of the man's face, and thenspoke less excitedly, and with deep regret in his voice.
"Lawler, I hate to tell you this. After I seen what happened to ourboys, I rode this way, intendin' to tell you. The trail took me past theHamlin shack. I wasn't intendin' to stop, but it seems like they heardme comin' an' run out to see what was up.
"It was your mother stopped me, Lawler--smiling kind of grim--like shealways smiles when things go wrong.
"'Shorty,' she says; 'you go directly to town and find Kane. You knowhe's in jail, for I told you so last night. Tell Sheriff Moreton torelease him; and then tell Kane that Antrim has stolen all the Circle Lcattle and has burned all the Circle L buildings. Tell him that Antrimhimself burned the buildings, and that Antrim said he would wait forKane at Antrim's shack--and that he dared Kane to come there for him.'Shorty,' she said, cold an' ca'm; 'you tell Kane to get out of jail andgo to Antrim's cabin, and kill him!'"
Now, he leaned forward and peered intently at Shorty, and Shortymarveled how his eyes bored into his own--with a cold intensity thatchilled the giant.
"Shorty," he said, in a low, strained voice; "Mother hasn't been hurt?"
"I forgot to tell you that," said Shorty; "she said, 'tell Kane I am allright.'"
Shorty opened his mouth to speak further, but closed it again when hesaw Red King leap down the trails--a flaming red streak that flashedover the new grass at a speed that took him a hundred yards beforeShorty could get his own horse turned.
The big red horse was lost in a dust cloud when Shorty urged his ownanimal southward. And Shorty rode as he had never ridden before, in aneffort to lessen the space between himself and the flying Red King.
To no avail, however. Shorty's horse was fast, but Red King seemed tohave wings, so lightly did he skim over the green gulf of distance thatstretched between his master and the vengeance for which Lawler's soulwas now yearning. Shorty's horse was tired, and Red King was fresh; andthe distance between them grew greater--always greater--slowly,surely--until the red horse was lost in the tiny dust cloud that movedwith unbelievable velocity far down the trail toward the Rabbit Ear.
The Trail Horde Page 33