Produced by Al Haines
Cover art]
[Frontispiece: The girl seized his stirrup to save herself fromfalling. FRONTISPIECE. See page 55.]
THE RIDER OF GOLDEN BAR
BY
WILLIAM PATTERSON WHITE
WITH FRONTISPIECE BY
REMINGTON SCHUYLER
TORONTO
THE RYERSON PRESS
1922
_Copyright, 1922,_
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.
_All rights reserved_
Published January, 1922
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
TO
MY POINT O' WOODS COUSINS
LAURA, CHARLOTTE, JULIA, AND DOROTHY
By William Patterson White
THE OWNER OF THE LAZY D LYNCH LAWYERS HIDDEN TRAILS PARADISE BEND THE HEART OF THE RANGE THE RIDER OF GOLDEN BAR
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I BILLY WINGO II A SAFE MAN III WHAT SALLY JANE THOUGHT IV HAZEL WALTON V JACK MURRAY OBJECTS VI CROSS-PURPOSES VII RAFE'S IDEA VIII THE NEW BROOM IX THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY X A SHORT HORSE XI THE TRAPPERS XII THE TRAP XIII OPEN AND SHUT XIV WHEN THIEVES FALL OUT XV THE BEST-LAID PLANS XVI OBSCURING THE ISSUE XVII WHAT HAZEL THOUGHT XVIII THE BARE-HEADED MAN XIX THE PERSISTENT SUITOR XX A DISCOVERY XXI THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY'S NIGHTMARE XXII THE HUNCH XXIII THE GUNFIGHTERS XXIV CONTRARIETIES XXV JONESY'S ULTIMATUM XXVI THE FOOL-KILLER XXVII THE LONG DAY CLOSES
THE RIDER OF GOLDEN BAR
CHAPTER ONE
BILLY WINGO
"But why don't you _do_ something, Bill?" demanded Sam Prescott'spretty daughter.
Bill Wingo looked at Miss Prescott in injured astonishment. "Dosomething?" he repeated. "What do you want me to do?"
"I don't want you to do anything," she denied with unnecessaryemphasis. "Haven't you any ambition?"
"Plenty."
"Then use it, for Heaven's sake!"
"I do. Don't I ask you to marry me every time I get a chance?"
"That's not using your ambition. That's playing the fool."
"Nice opinion of yourself you've got," he grinned.
"Never mind. You make me tired, Bill. Here you've got a little claimand a little bunch of cows--the makings of a ranch if you'd only work.But instead of working like a man you loaf like a--like a----"
"Like a loafer," he prompted.
"Exactly. You'd rather hunt and fish and ride the range for monthlywages when you're broke than scratch gravel and make something ofyourself. You let your cows run with the T-Up-And-Down, and I'll betwhen Tuckleton had his spring round-up you weren't even on the job.Were you?"
"Well, I--uh--I was busy," shamefacedly.
"Fishing over on Jack's Creek. That's how busy you were, when youshould have been looking after your property."
"Oh, Tuckleton's boys are square. Any calves they found running withmy brand, they'd run the iron on 'em all right."
"They'd run the iron on 'em all right," she repeated. "But what iron?"
"Why--mine. Whose do you suppose?"
"I don't know," she said candidly. "I'm asking you."
"Shucks, Sally Jane, those boys wouldn't do anything crooked.Tuckleton wouldn't allow it."
"Bill, don't you ever distrust anybody?"
"Not until I'm certain they're crooked."
"I see," said the lady disgustedly. "After you wake up and find yourhide, together with the rest of your worldly possessions, hanging onthe fence, then and not till then do you come alive to the fact thatperhaps all was not right."
"Well----" began Bill.
"Don't you see by that time it's too late?" interrupted the lady.
"Aw, I dunno. I--I suppose so."
"You suppose so, do you? You suppose so. Don't you know, my innocentWilliam, that there are a sight more criminals outside of jail thanthere are in?"
"Why, Sally Jane!" said the innocent William, scraping a fie-fieforefinger at her. "Shame on you, shame on you, you wicked girl. I amsurprised. Such thoughts in a young maid's mind. No, I ain't either.I always said if your pa sent you away to school you'd lose your faithin human nature. He did; and you did. And now look at you, talkingjust like a district attorney. And suspicious--I'd tell a man!"
"Oh, darn!" wailed Sally Jane. "I hate a fool!"
"So do I," concurred Bill warmly. "Tell a feller who's the fool youhate and I'll hate him, too. One pair of haters working together mightdo said fool a lot of good."
"Sometimes, Bill, my fingers simply ache to smack your long and sillyears."
He nodded soberly. "I know. I often have the same feeling aboutpeople. But don't let it worry you. It don't mean anything."
"Bill, can't you understand that I like you, and----"
"Easily," he grinned. "Of course you like me. So do lots of otherpeople. It comes natural. And that is another thing you mustn't letworry you, Sally Jane. Just you take that liking for me and tend itreal careful. Put it on the window-sill between the pink geraniums andwater it morning, noon and night, and by and by that li'l liking willwax strong and great and all that sort of thing, and you won't be ableto do without me. You'll have to marry me, I'm afraid, Sally Jane."
"I will, will I? And you're afraid, are you? You big, overgrown, lazylummox! I wouldn't marry you ever."
"I'm not so sure, but you needn't stamp your foot at me anyway. Itain't being done this season. People slam doors instead. I'm sorrythere isn't a door near at hand. It must have been overlooked whenLinny's Hill was made."
"Bill, don't fool. This is not any joking matter. Thiscome-day-go-day attitude of yours is bad business. It's ruining you,really it is."
"Drink and the devil, huh?"
"Oh, you're decent enough far as that goes. You never have beenbeastly."
"I thank you, madam, for this good opinion of your humble servant."
"Shut up! I mean to say-- What I'm trying to beat into your thickhead, you simple thing, is that in this world you don't stand still.You can't. You either go ahead or you slip back. And--you aren'tgoing ahead."
"If not, why not, huh? I know you mean well, Sally Jane, and----"
"And it's none of my business? Oh, I know you weren't going to saythat but you think it. You're quite right, Bill--but can't you see I'mtalking for your own good?"
"Sure, yes. My pa used to talk just like that before he'd go outbehind the corral with a breeching-strap in one hand and my ear in theother. I've heard him many's the time. I used to hurt most unpleasantfor two-three days after, special if he'd forget which end of the strapcarried the buckle. Old times, old times. Now, I take it you werenever licked, Sally Jane. That was a mistake. You should have been--What? You don't mean to say you're going home? And we were gettingalong so nicely too. Well, if willful must, she must. I'll hold yourhorse for you. Again let me offer my apologies for the lack of a door."
He sagged down on his heel and watched her ride away along the side ofLinny's Hill.
"I've often heard a woman's 'no' doesn't mean what it says," hemuttered, fishing out the makings from a vest pocket. "But Sally Janeis so persistent with it, I dunno. I wonder if I really love her, ordo I only think I do because I can't have her? I suppose I'd feelworse'n I do every time she turns me down if I did. Lord! she said, Isaid, he said, and may Gawd have mercy on your soul!"
When his cigarette was going well he lazed over on his side, supportinghis head on a crooked arm, and gazed abroad between half-shut lids.
The view from Linny's Hill was all that could be desired. At the baseof the hill the Golden Bar-Hillsville trail, a yellow-gray ribbonacross the green, le
d the eye across flats and gentle rises throughshady groves of pine and cedar westward to where Golden Bar, acollection of toy houses, each one startlingly clear and distinct inthat rarefied atmosphere, sprawled along the farther bank of WagonjackRiver.
The stream itself, a roaring river in the spring of the year, was nowbut a poor thing. Shrunk to quarter-size, and fordable almostanywhere, it flowed in sedate and midsummer fashion between itscut-banks and miniature bluffs. Bordered throughout its length bywillows and cottonwoods, Wagonjack River meandered and wound its waysouthward from the blue and hazy tumble of peaks that was the mainrange of the Medicine Mountains to where the wide and pleasant reachesof the Peace Pipe watered the southern section of the territory.
From Golden Bar to the Medicine Mountains was a long two hundred miles.From Golden Bar to the Peace Pipe was twice that distance.
Crocker County, four hundred miles long by three hundred miles wide,bounded on the east by the Wagonjack, ran well up into the MedicineMountains before giving way to Storey County. Across the river fromCrocker were two counties, of which Tom Read County was the northernand Piegan County the southern. Shaler County ran the whole length ofthe southern side of Crocker, whose western line was the boundary ofthe neighboring territory.
There you have Crocker, a county three hundred miles wide by fourhundred miles long, and Golden Bar was its county seat.
Political pickings in Crocker, which pickings the neighbors called by amuch worse name, were consistently good. A small Indian reservationlay partly in Crocker and partly in Shaler, but somehow the Crockercitizens always secured the beef contracts. Crocker laws, provided thesuspected person or persons were friendly with the county officials,were not administered with undue severity. Coarse work was nevertolerated, naturally; but if one were judicious and a good picker, onecould travel far and profitably. Thus it may be seen that Crocker was,as counties go, fertile ground for easy consciences.
But, like Gallio, Bill Wingo cared for none of these things. Hewatched the moving pencil-end that was Miss Prescott and her mountdescend to the trail and ride along it in the direction of Golden Bar.
Another pencil-end was riding the same trail,--away from Golden Bar.Traveling at their present rate of speed, the riders would meet not farfrom the scattering grove of cedars marking the entrance to thelow-walled draw that led to the Prescott ranch house.
Bill Wingo intently scrutinized the way-farer from Golden Bar side.
"Looks like Jack Murray's sorrel," he mused, holding the cigarette inthe corner of his mouth and rocking it up and down. "If they stop,it's Jack."
The pencil-ends drew together at the lower end of the grove. Theystopped.
"Shucks," Mr. Wingo muttered mildly. "I never did like that man."
Said the first pencil-end to the second pencil-end, "Hello, Sally Jane."
"Morning, Jack."
"I was just a-riding to your place."
"Don't let me stop you."
"I'll ride along with you."
"It's a free country." She lifted her reins and "kissed" to her horse."And at times I've known you to be amusing, Jack. It's four miles toour ranch and you'll help to brighten the weary way."
He spurred alongside and turned in his saddle to stare at her.
"Is that all I'm good for--to help pass the time?"
"What else is a man good for?"
"Don't be so flip, Sally Jane. You know----" He stopped short.
She waited a moment. Then, "I know what?"
"You know I've been loving you a long, long time," he said abruptly."I didn't want to tell you till I had something to offer you besidesmyself. And now I've got something--Rafe Tuckleton has promised tomake me sheriff."
"I thought the voters usually decided such things," said she.
He laughed cynically. "Not in Crocker. _We_ know the better way.Well, I've told you, Sally Jane. What do you say?"
She looked at him coolly. "What is this--a proposal?"
"Sure, I want you to marry me."
"No, you don't." There was no hint of coquetry in either her tone orthe direct gaze of her violet eyes.
He crowded his horse almost against hers and dropped a hand on top ofher hand where it lay on the saddle horn. She did not withdraw herhand at his touch. She simply suffered it impassively.
"Don't you understand?" he said earnestly. "Don't you understand thatI love you, Sally Jane? And I want you."
Sally Jane continued to look at him.
"I understand that you want me," she told him calmly. "Why not?You're dark and tall and thick-lipped and headstrong. I'm slim andred-haired and my mouth is full, too--but I'm headstrong, thank Heaven.My type appeals to your type, that's all. Appeals physically, I mean.You'd like to possess me, but you don't love me, Jack Murray."
"I tell you----" he began passionately.
"You don't have to tell me," she said calmly. "I know."
"How do you know?"
"By your eyes."
"My eyes!"
"Your eyes. Love is something besides desire, Jack. I know that lotsof men don't think so; but women know. You bet women know. And I, forone, don't intend to risk my happiness on a twenty-to-one-shot."
"What you talking about?" he demanded, scowling and withdrawing hishand.
"You--and me--us. If I married you, it's twenty to one our marriagewould be unhappy. There's too much of the animal in you, Jack."
"You listen to me, Sally. I tell you I love you and I'm going to haveyou."
"I said you only wanted to possess me," she observed placidly.
"Dammit, I tell you----"
"That's right, swear," she interrupted. "A man always does that whenhe can't think of anything else to say."
"I'm gonna marry you," he persisted sullenly.
"If it does you any good, keep right on thinking so. It can't hurt me."
"Has Bill Wingo----" he began, but sensed his mistake and stopped--toolate.
"You mean am I in love with Billy Wingo?" she put in helpfully. "Myanswer is, not at present."
"Meaning that you may be later on, I suppose."
"I didn't say so. Lord, man, haven't I a right to bestow my heartanywhere I like? I intend to, old-timer."
"You ain't gonna marry anybody but me," he insisted stubbornly.
"There you go again. Leave the melodrama alone, can't you? This isn'ta play. It's real life."
"I said I was gonna have you and I am," he said slowly. "Neither BillWingo nor anybody else is gonna get you. You were always intended forme. You're mine, understand, mine!"
Jamming his horse against hers he pinioned both her hands with hisright, swung his left arm round her waist and crushed her gaspingagainst his chest. Be sure she struggled; but he was a man, andstrong. Forcing the back of the hand that confined her two hands underher chin, he tilted her head up and backwards. Tightly she screwed upher mouth so that her lips were invisible. Once, twice and again hekissed her compressed mouth.
"There," he muttered, releasing her so abruptly that she almost fellout of the saddle and only saved herself by catching the saddle hornwith both hands. "There. I've heard you boasted that no man had everkissed you. Well, you're kissed now and you won't forget it in ahurry."
She settled her toes in the stirrups and faced him, her body shaking.Her hat had fallen off, her copper-colored hair hung tousled about herears. Violet eyes sparkling under the black eyebrows, lips drawn backrevealing the white, even teeth--her features were a mask of rage--arage that seethed and boiled in her passionate heart.
Never in her life had she been so despitefully used. Had she had agun, she would have shot the man. But she did not have a gun--nor anyother weapon. She had even dropped her quirt somewhere.
"Oh!" she cried, striking her fists together. "Oh! I could kill you!You dog! You beast! Faugh!" Here she wiped her mouth with the backof her hand and wiped her hand on her horse's mane. "When I get home,"she raved on, "I'll try to wash the touch of your mo
uth off with soap,but I don't believe even ammonia will ever make my lips feel cleanagain!"
He laughed. She began to cry as her rage overflowed her heart.
"When I tell my father," she sobbed, "he will kill you!"
"Here, stop crying," he directed, stretching forth an arm and leaningtoward her.
At that she came alive with startling suddenness and with a full-armedsweep scored his cheek with her finger nails from temple to jaw.
"Don't touch me!" she squalled. "Don't touch me! When my father getsthrough with you----" She left the sentence unfinished and wheeled herhorse.
But he was too quick for her and seized the bridle rein and swung hermount back.
"Listen," he said, his voice quiet but his eyes ablaze, "don't sayanything to your father."
"Afraid now, are you?" she taunted sneeringly.
"Not for me, for him. I don't want any trouble with your pa, not any.But if he jumps me, I'll have to defend myself. And you know your pawas never very quick on the draw, Sally Jane. So long."
He let her bridle go and moved aside. She snatched her horse aroundwith a jerk and flew homeward at a gallop.
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