CHAPTER XXIX.
TELL BARBARA I'M ALL RIGHT.
When Abe Lee, after twenty-six hard hours in the saddle, dismounted infront of the San Felipe hotel and entered the lobby his usually perfectnerves were strained almost to the breaking point. For weeks thesurveyor had carried the burden of Jefferson Worth's financialcondition as if it were his own. With the prospect of seeing the workhe loved better than his life wrecked and taken over by the Company, hehad for days faced the critical situation of the strike. Then, in thevery hour of relief, the situation had become seemingly hopeless. AbeLee, better than anyone, knew the temper of the Mexican and Indianstrikers. He realized fully how great the chances were that at the verymoment when he finished his ride for relief the town of Republic wasthe scene of tragic violence.
If Jefferson Worth had left San Felipe ignorant of the failure of hiseffort to relieve the dangerous situation at home, or if by some chancethe money so desperately needed was not ready, Abe knew that the causewas lost. The Company would triumph.
As he entered the hotel his eyes, searching eagerly for his employer,fell first on James Greenfield. With a movement wholly involuntary thehand of the overwrought desert man came to rest on his hip close to theheavy Colt's forty-five. Then he saw Jefferson Worth and Willard Holmesmoving towards him.
When a man feels himself hard-pressed in a fight and is strugglingdesperately to hold his ground, he has small thought for the triflingcourtesies demanded by custom. Without returning the greetings of thetwo men and instinctively drawing apart from Holmes, the surveyor shota single question at his employer. "Have you got it?"
"Everything is all right," answered Jefferson Worth, and with his wordssomething of his calm confidence went to Abe Lee.
When the two men reached Worth's apartment the surveyor, withouthesitation, began stripping off his clothes. "I want a good bathfirst," he said. "And while I am at it will you please have a goodthick beefsteak cooked rare and sent up here? Then I'll sleep for acouple of hours. That buckskin of Texas Joe's is standing in from ofthe hotel. He's about all in. I wish that you would see that he iscared for."
As he finished speaking the tall lean figure of the surveyordisappeared through the bath room door. Mr. Worth sent the order forhis superintendent's supper to the cook with a sum of money thatinsured immediate and careful attention. Then with his own hands he ledthe buckskin horse to a barn where the animal would have the care hehad so well earned.
When Mr. Worth returned to the hotel he opened the door of his roomsoftly. There was a tray of empty dishes on the table, an odor ofcigarette smoke in the atmosphere, and in his employer's bed thesurveyor, sound asleep. Abe Lee understood the value of every momenteven in taking rest.
Two hours later Mr. Worth, going again to his room, found that thesurveyor had just finished dressing. With a smile the financier handedAbe a slip of yellow paper. It was a message from Barbara saying thatso far all was well at home, and concluded with the words: "Love toAbe."
Without a word Abe turned away to buckle about his hips the broadcartridge belt with its worn holster and his big black gun. ButBarbara's father did not see him slip the bit of yellow paper into thepocket of his blue flannel shirt.
Then Mr. Worth gave the surveyor a black leather bill-book stuffed toits utmost capacity and secured with rubber bands. "Here it is," hesaid.
Abe stored the package in an inner pocket of his khaki coat and wasready.
At the barn they found Willard Holmes waiting with two horses. Theengineer wore a new belt, holster and revolver. When he had greetedthem he said: "Well, are we all ready? I have a lunch here. Is thereanything else?"
Abe looked at him questioningly and turned to Mr. Worth.
"Mr. Holmes is going back with you," said the banker.
For an instant the surveyor hesitated. But something in his employer'stone caused him to withhold any objection, and with no comment heturned to inspect the horses. The animals were of the same tough breedas the buckskin. "They're all right, are they?" Abe asked of theliveryman.
"You can see for yourself," came the answer. "You know the kind. The'ain't nothin' can outlast 'em, an' Mr. Worth said that was what hewanted."
"We will need one feed apiece," said Abe. "Put it in two sacks, youknow."
"Sure," returned the man. "I'd a-had it ready but this here gentlemandidn't tell me."
While the liveryman was preparing the grain Abe examined saddles andcinches. "Are your stirrups right?" he asked Holmes.
"I think so."
"You'd better know. We don't want to stop to monkey around in the dark."
The barn man grinned, with a wink at the surveyor, as the engineerdecided, after trying, that he had better shorten the straps a hole.Abe silently assisted him in adjusting them. Then--swinging into hissaddle--the surveyor said to his employer as the horses moved ahead:"Good-by, sir. Wire little sister that I'm coming."
Along the lighted city streets they rode at a pace that seemed toWillard Holmes more fitting for ladies' gentle exercise than for twomen bound on an errand against time. The eastern man urged his horseahead, but his companion held back and Holmes was forced to check hisspeed and wait for the other to come up with him. To the engineer'sattempts at conversation the other answered only in monosyllables ornot at all.
There had been no opportunity for Mr. Worth to explain to Abe theengineer's part in helping him to secure the money from Cartwright andthe consequent discharge of Holmes by Greenfield. To the surveyor'smind his companion belonged to the enemy. He could not understandwhy--with the victory or defeat of Jefferson Worth in his fight withthe Company hanging upon his superintendent's mission--the Company'schief engineer should volunteer to accompany him. The presence ofGreenfield and Holmes in San Felipe, the action of the banks controlledby the Company, made it clear to Abe that they understood the dangeroussituation of Mr. Worth and his urgent need of immediate relief. TheCompany had everything to gain if the arrival of the money at the sceneof the strike could be delayed even for a few hours. But Abe had seenthat it was Jefferson Worth's wish that Holmes go with him and thesurveyor could not, in the presence of Holmes, discuss the question.
On his part Holmes felt the antagonism of his silent companion butcould not guess the reason, while Abe's attitude of aloofness preventedthe engineer from making any explanation. He told himself that thesurveyor was naturally over-wrought with the mental and physical strainof his long ride, and that later, at some more opportune time, whenthey halted for lunch and rest perhaps, they would come to a moreagreeable spirit of companionship.
But he could not content himself with the slow pace when there was suchevident need of haste. It was all a mistake, he thought, for the manalready wearied to undertake the return trip. A fresh rider was asnecessary as a fresh horse. The surveyor was evidently too exhausted topush on at the necessary speed and Holmes felt that it fell upon him toset the pace and thus force his companion to the exertion required. Sohe continued urging his horse ahead while Abe's mount, held back by hisrider, tugged at the reins and grew restless, and the horse of Holmes,now started sharply forward, now pulled down almost to a standstill,became equally uneasy. So they rode out of the city beyond the lightsand movement of the streets into the stillness and the darkness of thenight.
At last as Holmes again touched his horse with the spur, making himbound several lengths ahead, and again pulled him down waiting for Abeto overtake him, the western man broke the long silence. "You'll haveto quit that, Mr. Holmes," he said somewhat sharply.
The engineer did not understand. "Quit what?"
"Breaking ahead like that. I'll set the pace for this trip."
"You don't seem to be in any hurry," retorted Holmes, nettled by thesurveyor's tone.
"I ain't. Not in that kind of a hurry."
"But look here, Abe. Don't you know that Mr. Worth expects us to makethe trip in the shortest possible time? We've got to get that moneyinto Republic to-morrow evening, and before if we can. There is toomuch at stake to poke along
like this."
Abe reflected. The Company man certainly understood the situation.Aloud he said: "I think I know what Jefferson Worth wants, Mr. Holmes,and I reckon you'll have to trust me to carry out his wishes. I knowthe distance; I know this road; and I know horse flesh a little. At therate you're trying to go you'll be afoot before noon to-morrow. You canride your own horse down if you want to, but you can't hinder me byfretting mine into unnecessary exertion. He'll need every ounce of hisstrength and I'm going to see that he doesn't waste any of it. Eitherpush ahead out of sight and hearing as fast as you please, or turnback; but if you ride with me you'll quit this monkey business and ridequietly at the gait I set."
Willard Holmes instantly saw the force of the western man's words. "Ibeg your pardon, Lee," he said. "Of course you know best. I'm soanxious over this business that I'm acting like a fool."
After that companionship was a little easier, but under thecircumstances the one topic most on the mind of each was carefullyavoided. At midnight they stopped at the crossing of a stream to waterand feed, and Abe showed his companion how to make a nosebag out of thesack in which his grain was carried.
Daybreak found them in the foothills. At the ranch where Abe had beenaccommodated the morning before they again halted for breakfast. Withanother feed for the horses tied behind their saddles, they began thelong climb of the western slope of the mountains and about four o'clockin the afternoon had crossed over the summit and reached the spring atthe head of Devil's Canyon--the last water they would find until theyreached Wolf Wells in the desert.
When they dismounted at the watering place some two hundred yards offthe trail, the surveyor, after slipping the bit from his horse's mouthand loosening the saddle girth, moved slowly about the little glen, hiseyes on the ground. Holmes, standing by the horses which had theirmuzzles deep in the cool water, watched his companion wearily. "Lostsomething?" he asked, as Abe continued moving cautiously about.
"Not yet," came the laconic reply.
"Well, what the deuce are you looking for then?"
Abe, coming back to arrange the feed for his horse, looked closely athis companion but made no answer.
When the two men had thrown themselves on the grass to eat their lunchthe surveyor, between bites of his sandwich, carefully scanned themountain side and the mouth of the canyon below. Suddenly reaching outhis hand he picked up a burnt cigarette butt and regarded it intently,while the engineer watched him with curious, amused interest.
"What the deuce is the matter, Abe? You act like one of Cooper'sLeather-Stocking heroes. What's the matter with that cigarette stub?"
The man of the desert, knowing nothing of Cooper, did not smile butanswered shortly, eyeing the engineer as he spoke: "It ain't dry. Therewas a party at this watering place not more than three hours ago."
"Well, what of it? This is government property. Probably somebody aheadof us going into the new country to locate."
"There's been nobody ahead of us all day."
"How do you know that?"
Abe shrugged his shoulders. "How do I know that a party of five or sixwatered here since noon?"
"Perhaps it's someone going out."
"Did we meet anyone? This is the only trail."
"Well, maybe it was a party of prospectors or hunters. They would notfollow the road."
"They would have pack burros or mules. Nothing but horses in thisbunch. They----" The surveyor turned his head quickly to look up thehill. His ear had caught the sound of a horse's feet on the mountainroad above.
Holmes, looking also, saw a horseman ride leisurely around the turn anddown the grade toward the canyon. Silently they watched and as thenewcomer came nearer they saw that he was a Mexican. When the travelerreached the point where he should have turned aside to the water he didnot pause but jogged steadily past. "By George!" exclaimed Holmes, "Ibelieve that's one of our greasers from the outfit in Number Eight."
"I know it is," said Abe. "Perhaps you can make a guess as to what he'sdoing here and why he didn't stop for water." As the surveyor spoke hewas rolling a cigarette, and from the cloud of smoke he watched theMexican ride down the mountain side and disappear between the narrowwalls of Devil's Canyon.
"I'm sure I don't know what he's doing. He seems to be going toward thedesert. There might be a hundred different reasons why he should havebeen out somewhere."
"There's only one reason why he didn't stop for water at this place."
"What's that?"
"He had already watered."
"But there has been no chance for miles back!"
"He watered here."
Holmes spoke sharply. Abe's manner irritated him. "I don't see how youknow."
"Because this is the only water for twenty miles going either way."
"But you said you thought there was a party of five or six."
"I know there are five or six."
"Where are the others, then, if this man was one of the party?"
"I don't know exactly where they are, but I can guess."
By this time Willard Holmes had come to see that to his companion therewas a great deal more in the common-place incident than the surveyorchose to put into words. Abe, throwing away his cigarette and rollinganother with his long-practiced fingers, seemed to be striving toarrive at some conclusion about something that to the engineer was allvery much in the dark.
Aggravated by the reticence of his companion, Holmes burst forth with:"For heaven's sake! Abe, open up. What's on your mind? What's thematter anyway? What's all this about?"
Abe faced the engineer with a straight, hard look. "Don't you know whatit's all about?"
"So far as I can see it's all about nothing at all. Tell me."
"Well, Mr. Holmes, I will. But I'm not sure yet that it will be news toyou. The rest of the gang that watered here is down in Devil's Canyonwaiting for us. They were here something like three hours ago. Afterwatering, one of them went on over the ridge to watch for us and theothers went back down the canyon. They knew that we would stop here tofeed and water and that the lookout could jog along past, apparentlyminding his own business, and tell 'em that we were coming."
"You mean it's a hold-up?" cried Holmes, in some excitement.
"That's what I would call it. Your Company would probably call itintercepting Mr. Worth's messenger."
"The Company? What has the Company to do with it?"
"Greenfield and you were in San Felipe. You knew what I went after. Youknow that the chances are big that Jefferson Worth will go to smash ifI don't make it to Republic to-night, and that greaser is a Companyman."
In a flash Holmes saw the whole situation from his companion's point ofview and understood the surveyor's suspicions. At the same time theengineer realized that it was now too late for him to explain hispresence or that he was no longer connected with the Company. In hisperplexity and chagrin and in the suddenness of it all he said theworst thing possible. "Well, what are you going to do about it?"
Abe's voice was hard. "I'm not going to take any fool chances. This maybe a plain ordinary case of hold-up or it may be a job framed up by theCompany simply to delay me. It's all the same to me, but this moneygoes to Republic to-night. Sabe that?"
The other would have spoken but Abe interrupted.
"We've palavered long enough, Mr. Holmes. The horses have finishedtheir feed and it's time to start."
When they were mounted the surveyor said shortly: "Now, sir, you justride ahead and you ride slow until I give the word--then you go likehell. If you lift a hand to signal or make any mistakes like stoppingto fix your saddle girth or checking up to speak to that bunch orturning 'round, I get you first and you can't afford to have any hazynotions about my not wanting to kill you because you're from New York.If you're square you can make good on those Company greasers down thereand I'll apologize afterwards. If you're in this deal with your damnedCompany, you'll stop drawing your salary right here and there won't beany funeral expenses for them to pay either! Go ahead."
"Just a word first," and Abe saw that the engineer was as cool as aveteran. "Granting that you are right about that crowd being down thereto stop us, if anything should happen to you tell me how to get intoRepublic with the money. You will be taking no chances with that atleast."
"Follow the trail to the telephone line. You know it from there.There's water at Wolf Wells. Give your horse a drink but don't wait torest. You can push him from now on as hard as you like. You should makeit to Republic in six hours from here. Give the money to Miss Worth.Anything else?"
Holmes replied by turning in his saddle and moving ahead. Abe followed,his horse's nose even with the flank of the animal in the lead.
Easily they jogged ahead down the grade toward the narrow throat of thecanyon. A hundred yards from where two points of jutting rock in thewalls of the mountain hallway leave an opening not more than fifty feetwide, Holmes, with the slightest turn of his head, spoke, over hisshoulder. "I see a man's face looking around that point of rock on theright."
"Be ready when I give the word."
"Won't they pot us?"
"Not if they can get the drop. They'll turn us loose on the desert."
"Shall I shoot?"
Behind the engineer's back Abe smiled grimly. "When they halt us and Igive the word, cut loose if you want to. I'll take all on the left."
The distance lessened to a hundred feet.
Suddenly from the left three mounted Mexicans pushed into the road andfrom the right two more.
Even as they threw up their guns and called: "Alto--Halt!" Abe gave theword:
"Now!"
The two white men drove their spurs deep into their horses' flanks,throwing themselves forward in their saddles with the same motion. Withmad plunges the animals leaped toward the highwaymen. Even as he spokeAbe's gun had cracked thrice in quick succession--the Mexicans firingat about the same instant. Two of the horsemen on the left went downand the surveyor reeled almost out of his saddle. But Holmes did notsee. His own revolver barked a prompt second to Abe's, and on his sidea Mexican went over clutching at his saddle horn. The horses of theMexicans were rearing and plunging. The quick reports of the revolversechoed viciously from the rocky walls.
But the white men went through. Down the rocky hallway they raced, sideby side now, as hard as their maddened horses could run. A moment toslip fresh cartridges into his cylinder and Holmes cried to hiscompanion: "Good stuff, old man! Go on; I'll hold 'em." And before Abecould grasp his purpose he had jerked his horse to his haunches and,wheeling, faced back up the canyon and disappeared around a turn.
Even as the surveyor was trying to check his own horse--a tough-mouthedbrute--another rattling volley of revolver shots echoed down thecanyon. By the time Abe had succeeded in turning his stubborn mountHolmes re-appeared.
"All over!" the engineer sang out, as his companion wheeled again androde beside him. "Two of 'em were coming after us. I got one and theother turned tail." He winced with pain as he spoke. "They presented mewith a little souvenir, though."
Abe saw that his left arm was swinging loosely. "You are hurt," he saidsharply, reining up his horse. "Where is it?"
"Here, in my shoulder. It don't amount to anything. Let's get on towater and I'll fix it up." With the word the engineer, whose mount hadalso stopped, started ahead. The horse went a few steps andstumbled--struggled to regain his feet--staggered weakly a few stepsfarther--stumbled again--and went down. As he fell Holmes sprang clear.The animal raised his head, made another attempt to rise and droppedback. Another bullet from the last encounter had found a mark.
The dismounted engineer, who stood as if dazed, staring at his deadhorse, was aroused by the voice of Abe Lee. "It looks like we'd got allthat was coming to us this trip."
At his companion's tone Holmes looked up quickly. The surveyor's lipswere white and his face was drawn with pain.
The man on the ground sprang toward him with a startled exclamation."You too; Abe! Where is it?"
"My leg, on the other side."
Quickly the engineer went around Lee's horse to find the leg of thesurveyor's khaki trousers darkly stained with blood. "Get down," hecommanded and, reaching with his uninjured arm, almost lifted hiscompanion from the saddle. An examination revealed an ugly hole in thesurveyor's thigh. With handkerchiefs and some strips cut from theengineer's coat they dressed their wounds as best they could. When theyhad finished, Holmes straightened up and looked around. Behind them wasthe bold mountain wall, grim and forbidding; on either hand the dry,barren Mesa; and ahead the miles and miles of desert.
As if in answer to his thoughts the man on the ground said grimly:"This is hell now, ain't it? Mr. Holmes, I'll make that apology. If youplease, would you mind shaking hands with me?"
Willard Holmes grasped the out-stretched hand cordially. "You did justright, old man. It was the only thing you could do. But I want to tellyou quick, before anything else happens, that I'm not a Company man anymore."
"Not a Company man?'
"Greenfield fired me because I helped Jefferson Worth to interest thecapitalist who is furnishing him the money he needs."
For a moment Abe Lee looked at the engineer in silence; then his palelips twisted into a smile. "Mr. Holmes, would you mind shaking handsagain?"
With a laugh the engineer once more held out his hand. Then he askedseriously: "How are we going to get out of this, Abe?"
The smile was already gone from the surveyor's face. He answeredslowly, with dogged determination in his voice. "We've got to get thismoney to Republic to-night. It's the only thing that will stop thosecholos and Cocopahs. We'll make it to water together, then you can goon. Help me up!"
With the engineer's assistance Abe managed to gain his seat in thesaddle, Holmes mounting behind, and thus they made their way down intothe Basin and to Wolf Wells.
"Adios. Tell Barbara I'm all right"]
There Holmes helped his companion from the horse and to the shade of amesquite tree near the water hole, where he stood over him as he lay onthe ground, protesting vigorously against leaving him alone in thedesert. But the surveyor argued him down. "I couldn't possibly make itif we had another horse," he said. "I'm down and out. There'll be hellto pay in Republic to-night, even if the boys have held them off thislong. The money's got to get there this evening. You can reach there byten o'clock and send a wagon back for me. Don't you see there's noother way?" He held out the black leather bill-book with the rubberbands. "Here, take this and go on. Go on, man! What's a night in thedesert to me?"
"But those greasers may come this way."
"They won't. But if they should I have my gun, haven't I, and I'll seethem before they see me. Go on, I tell you. We've lost too much timealready. Think of that mob and Barbara. You've got to go, Holmes."
The engineer turned towards his horse. "Good-by, old man."
"Adios. Tell Barbara I'm all right."
Abe Lee watched the loping horse grow smaller and smaller in thedistance, then watched the cloud of dust that lifted from the trail tohang all golden in the last of the light. Turning he saw the summit ofthe mountain wall sharply defined against the sky. With a groan hisform relaxed. He closed his eyes. He was indeed down and out.
The desert night fell softly over the wide, thirsty plain. The snarlingcoyote chorus came out of the gloom. Out there Willard Holmes wasriding--riding--riding--along the old San Felipe trail. Away overthere, somewhere under those stars, Barbara was waiting his return. Heremembered her parting words and how he had failed to find in her eyesthat which he had longed to see. He felt for the paper in the pocket ofhis shirt: "Love to Abe." She would never have sent that message hadher love been other than it was. Abe Lee, born and reared in thedesert, was not the kind of man to deceive himself. For his work andfor the woman whose life was so strangely and closely bound up with ithe had given the utmost limit of his strength. And now another manwould finish the ride and go to her with the prize. Not that it wouldmake any difference to Barbara, but somehow it mattered a great deal toAbe.
Willard Holmes, who in spite of his splendid strength had not thedesert man's powers of endurance, clung grimly to one thought--themoney must go to Republic. The steady rhythm of his horse's feet seemedto beat out the word: "Barbara! Barbara! Barbara!"
The trying scene with Greenfield, the long hard hours in the saddle,the excitement of the fight in the canyon, with his anxiety for hiswounded companion left alone in the desert, were almost too much. Couldhe hold out? Could he make it? He _must_.
The engineer held his seat with the strength of desperation. He _must!_The money must go to Republic that night--to Barbara! Barbara! Barbara!The horse's feet seemed to have beaten out the word for ages. For ageshe had been riding--riding--riding towards some point out there aheadin the desert night.
The engineer knew now what it was that called him back.
The Winning of Barbara Worth Page 31