The Cattle-Baron's Daughter

by Harold Bindloss

  XVIII

  A FUTILE PURSUIT

  Hetty's sleigh was sliding, a dim moving shadow, round a bend in the risewhen Breckenridge touched his comrade, who stood gazing silently acrossthe prairie.

  "It's abominably cold, Larry," he said, with a shiver. "Hadn't we betterget on?"

  Grant said nothing as he took his place on the driving-seat, and the teamhad plodded slowly along the trail for at least five minutes before hespoke.

  "You heard what Miss Torrance told me?" he said.

  "Yes," Breckenridge said. "I notice, however, we are still heading for thebridge. Can't you cross the ice, Larry?"

  "If I wanted to I fancy I could."

  "Then why don't you?"

  Grant laughed. "Well," he said, "there's only one trail through the bluff,and it's not the kind I'm fond of driving over in the dark."

  Breckenridge twisted in his seat, and looked at him. "Pshaw!" he said. "Itwould be a good deal less risky than meeting the Sheriff at the bridge.You are not going to do anything senseless, Larry?"

  "No; only what seems necessary."

  Breckenridge considered. "Now," he said slowly, "I can guess what you'rethinking, and, of course, it's commendable; but one has to be reasonable.Is there anything that could excite the least suspicion that Miss Torrancewarned you?"

  "There are two or three little facts that only need putting together."

  "Still, if we called at Muller's and drove home by the other trail itwouldn't astonish anybody."

  "It would appear a little too much of a coincidence in connection with thefact that Miss Torrance and I were known to be good friends, and the timeshe left Cedar. As the cattle-men have evidently found out, I have crossedthe bridge at about the same time every Wednesday; and two of the cow-boyssaw us near Harper's."

  "Larry," said Breckenridge, "if you were merely one of the rest yourintentions would no doubt become you, but the point is that everyhomesteader round here is dependent on you. If you went down, theopposition to the cattle-men would collapse, or there would be generalanarchy, and that is precisely why Torrance and the Sheriff are anxious toget their hands on you. Now, doesn't it strike you that it's your plainduty to keep clear of any unnecessary peril?"

  Grant shook his head. "No," he said. "It seems to me that argument hasquite frequently accounted for a good deal of meanness. It is tolerablypresumptuous for any man to consider himself indispensable."

  "Well," said Breckenridge, divided between anger and approval, "I havefound out already that it's seldom any use trying to convince you, buteach time you made this round I've driven with you, and it's quite obviousthat if one of us crossed the bridge it would suit the purpose. Now, Idon't think the Sheriff could rake up very much against me."

  Grant laid his hand on the lad's shoulder. "I'm going to cross the bridge,but I don't purpose that either of us should fall into the Sheriff'sclutches," he said. "You saw what Jardine's glass had gone down to?"

  Breckenridge nodded. "It dropped like that before the last blizzard wehad."

  Grant turned and looked about him, and Breckenridge shivered as hefollowed his gaze. They had driven out from behind the rise now and abitter wind met them in the face. There was not very much of it as yet,but all feeling seemed to die out of the lad's cheeks under it, and itbrought a little doleful moaning out of the darkness. Behind them starsshone frostily in the soft indigo, but elsewhere a deepening obscurity wascreeping up across the prairie, and sky and snow were blurred and mergedone into the other.

  "There's one meaning to that," said Grant. "We'll have snow in an hour ortwo, and when it comes it's going to be difficult to see anything. In themeanwhile, we'll drive round by Busby's and get our supper while thecow-boys cool. The man who hangs around a couple of hours doing nothing ina frost of this kind is not to be relied upon when he's wanted in ahurry."

  He flicked the horses, and in half an hour the pair were sitting in alonely log-house beside a glowing stove while its owner prepared a meal.Two other men with bronzed faces sat close by, and Breckenridge fancied hehad never seen his comrade so cheerful. His cares seemed to have fallenfrom him, his laugh had a pleasant ring, and there was something in hiseyes which had not been there for many weary months. Breckenridge wonderedwhether it could be due to anything Miss Torrance had said to him, butkept his thoughts to himself, for that was a subject upon which one couldnot ask questions.

  In the meanwhile, Clavering and the Sheriff found the time pass much lesspleasantly--on the bluff. The wind that whistled through it grew colder asone by one the stars faded out, and there was a mournful wailing amidstthe trees. Now and then, a shower of twigs came rattling down frombranches dried to brittleness by the frost, and the Sheriff brushed themoff disgustedly, as, huddling lower in the sleigh from which the horseshad been taken out, he packed the robes round him. He had lived softly,and it would have suited him considerably better to have spent that bitterevening in the warmth and security of Clavering's ranch.

  "No sign of him yet?" he said, when Christopher Allonby and Clavering cameup together. "Larry will stay at home to-night. He has considerably moresense than we seem to have."

  "I have seen nothing," said Allonby, who, in the hope of restoring hiscirculation, had walked up the trail. "Still, the night is gettingthicker, and nobody could make a sleigh out until it drove right up tohim."

  "If Larry did come, you could hear him," said the Sheriff.

  Allonby lifted his hand, and, as if to supply the answer, with a greatthrashing of frost-nipped twigs the birches roared about them. The blastthat lashed them also hurled the icy dust of snow into the Sheriff'sface.

  "I don't know," said the lad. "Nobody could hear very much through that."

  "Ugh!" said the Sheriff. "We will have a blizzard on us before long, andGovernment pay doesn't warrant one taking chances of that kind. Aren't weplaying a fool's game, Clavering?"

  Clavering laughed somewhat unpleasantly. "There are other emolumentsattached to your office which should cover a little inconvenience," hesaid. "Now, I fancy I know Larry Grant better than the rest of you, and itwould take quite a large-sized blizzard to keep him at home when he hadanything to do. Once you put him out of the way it will make things a gooddeal more pleasant for everybody. Larry is the one man with any brains thehomesteaders have in this part of the country, and while they would makeno show without him, we can expect nothing but trouble while he's atliberty. It seems to me that warrants our putting up with a littleunpleasantness."

  "Quite improving!" said Allonby, who was not in the best of temper justthen. "One could almost wonder if you had any personal grudge against theman, Clavering. You are so astonishingly disinterested when you talk ofhim. Now, if I didn't like a man I'd make an opportunity of telling him."

  Clavering laughed. "You're young, Chris, or you wouldn't worry aboutfolks' motives when their efforts suit you. What are the men doing?"

  "Freezing, and grumbling!" said Allonby. "They've made up their minds toget Larry this time or we wouldn't have kept them here. It's the horsesI'm anxious about. They seem to know what is coming, and they're going togive us trouble."

  "A fool's game!" repeated the Sheriff, with a shiver. "Got any of thosecigars with you, Clavering? If I'm to stay here, I have to smoke."

  Clavering threw him the case and turned away with Allonby. They went downthrough the bluff together and stood a few moments looking up the trail.It led downwards towards them, a streak of faintly shining whiteness,through the gloom of the trees, and the wind that set the branchesthrashing whirled powdery snow into their faces, though whether this camedown from the heavens or was uplifted from the frozen soil they did notknow. With eyes dimmed and tingling cheeks, they moved back again amidstthe birches; but even there it was bitterly cold, and Allonby was glad toturn his face from the wind a moment as they stopped to glance at thetethered horses. They were stamping impatiently, while the man on watch,who would have patted one of them, sprang backwards when the beast lashedout at him.

  "If Larry
doesn't come soon, I guess we're going to find it hard to keepthem here," he said. "They're 'most pulling the branches they're hitchedto off the trees."

  Allonby nodded. "Larry would be flattered if he knew the trouble you and Iwere taking over him, Clavering," he said. "It's also the first time I'veseen you worry much about this kind of thing."

  "What kind of thing?"

  "Citizen's duty! I think that's the way you put it?"

  Clavering laughed. "If you want to be unpleasant, Chris, can't you try adifferent line? That one's played out. It's too cold to quarrel."

  "I don't feel pleasant," said Allonby. "In fact, I don't like this thing,any way. Before Larry got stuck with his notions he was a friend ofmine."

  "If the boys don't get too cold to shoot it's quite likely he will benobody's friend to-morrow," said Clavering cruelly. "We'll go round andlook at them."

  They went back into the trail once more, and the icy gusts struck throughthem as they plodded up it; but they found no man keeping watch beside it,as there should have been. The cow-boys had drawn back for shelter amongthe trees, and Clavering, who found them stamping and shivering, had somedifficulty in getting them to their posts again. They had been there twohours, and the cold was almost insupportable.

  "I guess it's no use," said Allonby. "As soon as we have gone on every boywill be back behind his tree, and I don't know that anybody could blamethem. Any way I'm 'most too cold for talking."

  They went back together, and, while the cow-boys, who did as Allonby hadpredicted, slowly froze among the trees, rolled themselves in thesleigh-robes and huddled together. It was blowing strongly now, and anumbing drowsiness had to be grappled with as the warmth died out of them.At last when a few feathery flakes came floating down, the Sheriff shookhimself with a sleepy groan.

  "There is not a man living who could keep me here more than anotherquarter of an hour," he said. "Are the boys on the look-out by the trail,Allonby?"

  "They were," said the lad drowsily. "I don't know if they're there now,and it isn't likely. Clavering can go and make sure if he likes to, but ifanyone wants me to get up, he will have to lift me."

  Neither Clavering nor the Sheriff appeared disposed to move, and it wasevident that both had abandoned all hope of seeing Larry Grant that night.Ten minutes that seemed interminable passed, and the white flakes thatwhirled about them grew thicker between the gusts and came down in abewildering rush. The Sheriff shook the furs off him and stood up with agroan.

  "Tell them to bring the horses. I have had quite enough," he said.

  Allonby staggered to his feet, and reeled into the wood. There was ahoarse shouting, and a trampling of hoofs that was drowned in a roar ofwind, and when that slackened a moment a faint cry went up.

  "Hallo!" said the Sheriff; "he's coming."

  Then, nobody quite remembered what he did. Here and there a man struggledwith a plunging horse in the darkness of the wood, and one or twoblundered into each other and fell against the trunks as they ran on foot.They were dazed with cold, and the snow, that seemed to cut their cheeks,was in their eyes.

  Allonby, however, saw that Clavering was mounted, and the horse he rodeapparently going round and round with him, while by and by he foundhimself in the saddle. He was leaning low over the horse's neck, with onemoccasined foot in the stirrup and the other hanging loose, while thebranches lashed at him, when something dark and shapeless came flying downthe trail.

  He heard a hoarse shout and a rifle flashed, but the wind drowned thesound and before he was in the trail the sleigh, which was what hesupposed the thing to be, had flashed by. One cannot handily fit spurs tomoccasins, and, as his hands were almost useless, it was some time beforehe induced the horse, which desired to go home uphill, to take theopposite direction. Then, he was off at a gallop, with a man whom hesupposed to be Clavering in front of him, and the Sheriff, who seemed tobe shouting instructions, at his side. Allonby did not think that anybodyheard them, but that was of no great moment to him then, for the trail wasnarrow and slippery here and there, and he was chiefly concerned with thenecessity of keeping clear of his companion. He could not see the sleighnow and scarcely fancied that anybody else did, but he could hear the beatof hoofs in front of him when the wind sank a trifle, and rode onfuriously down-hill at a gallop. The horse had apparently yielded to itsterror of the storm, and Allonby had more than a suspicion that, had hewanted to, he could neither have turned it nor pulled it up.

  Clavering still held in front of him, but the Sheriff was dropping back alittle, and the lad did not know whether any of the rest were following.He was, however, certain that, barring a fall, a mounted man couldovertake a sleigh, and that the up grade beyond the bridge would tell onthe beasts that dragged a weight behind them. So while the snow whirledpast him and the dim trees flashed by, he urged on the beast until heheard the bridge rattle under him and felt the pace slacken--the trail hadbegun to lead steeply up out of the hollow.

  The horse was flagging a little by the time they reached the crest of therise, and for a few moments Allonby saw nothing at all. The roar of thetrees deafened him, and the wind drove the snow into his eyes. Then, as hegasped and shook it from him when the gust had passed, he dimly made outsomething that moved amidst the white haze and guessed that it wasClavering. If that were so, he felt it was more than likely that thesleigh was close in front of him. A few minutes later he had come up withthe man whose greater weight was telling, and while they rode stirrup tostirrup and neck by neck, Allonby fancied there was something dim andshadowy in front of them.

  Clavering shouted as he dropped behind, and Allonby who failed to catchwhat he said was alone, blinking at the filmy whiteness, through which hehad blurred glimpses of the object ahead, now growing more distinct. Hecould also, when the wind allowed it, hear the dull beat of hoofs. Howlong it took him to overtake it he could never remember; but at last thesleigh was very close to him, and he shouted. There was no answer; butAllonby, who could scarcely hear his own voice, did not consider thisastonishing, and tried again. Still no answer came back, and, coming upwith the sleigh at every stride, he dragged the butt of his sling rifleround and fumbled at the strap with a numbed and almost useless hand.

  He could see the back of the sleigh, but nothing else, and lurchingperilously in the saddle he got the rifle in his hand; but, cold andstiffened as he was, he dared not loose his grasp on the bridle, and so,with the butt at his hip, he raced up level with the sleigh. Then, thehorse, perhaps edged off the beaten trail into the snow outside it,blundered in its stride, and the rifle, that fell as the lad swayed, wasleft behind. He had both hands on the bridle the next moment, and leaningdown sideways fancied there was nobody in the sleigh. It took him a secondor two to make quite sure of it, and at least a minute more before hebrought the horse to a standstill in the trail. By that time the sleighhad swept on into the sliding whiteness. Wheeling his horse, Claveringrode out of the snow and pulled up in evident astonishment.

  "Have you let him get away?" he gasped.

  "He wasn't there," said Allonby.

  "Not there! I saw him and another man when they drove past us in thebluff."

  "Well," said Allonby, "I'm quite certain there's nobody in that sleighnow."

  The wind that roared about them cut short the colloquy, and a minute ortwo later Allonby became sensible that Clavering was speaking again.

  "Larry and the other man must have dropped into the soft snow when theteam slowed up on the up grade, knowing the horses would go on until theyreached their stable," he said. "Well, they'll be away through the bluffnow, and a brigade of cavalry would scarcely find them on such a night. Infact, we will have to trust the beasts to take us home."

  Just then the Sheriff, with one or two cow-boys, rode up, and Allonby, whodid not like the man, laughed as he signed him to stop.

  "You can go back and get your driving horses in. We have been chasing asleigh with no one in it," he said. "Larry has beaten us again!"