The moon was not yet up, and in the darkness the man trailing them did not identify the companion of Wall. But he knew the easy gait of the cowboy and after a second or two crossed the road to follow him.
Hal wondered later whether it was sheer chance that made him remember a message he wanted delivered to his foreman and led him to turn his head at that exact moment. The call to Tom died in the throat of Stevens. Wall was walking into the lot where he had left his car and another man who had his back turned to Hal was creeping up behind him. Even if Hal had not seen the revolver in the fellow's hand, he would have recognized the neat slender figure of Fenwick. He padded softly after the man.
'Hold it, Brick,' he shouted presently.
Fenwick whirled. It was too late for him to make for the alley now. He was caught between the two of them. Instantly he flung a long-distance shot at Hal and darted down a path beside a one-story house to a group of small buildings back of it.
Wall ran back to join his companion.
'Look out, Tom!' shouted Hal. 'It's Fenwick.'
There was an adobe wall back of the lot. It was likely that Fenwick would lie crouched behind one of the buildings hoping for a good shot at either Wall or Stevens and in case they crowded him, would go over the wall into the straggly brush of the desert.
'How would it do to circle around to the back of the wall and come at him from the rear?' Hal asked. 'He won't dare try to escape by the road because he'll think we're waiting for him out in front somewhere.'
'Sounds reasonable,' Wall agreed. 'Do we go together?'
They decided that each would make a half-circle in opposite directions, to meet in a few minutes back of the wall. The radius of it must be long enough so that Brick would not be able to see them. Since the darkness still held, that would be not very far.
Both had been big-game hunters and they knew how to move silently. Hal stopped once to listen, but he could not hear even a rumor of Tom's progress. No sound came from the man they were stalking. A barbed-wire fence stopped Hal, but he slid under the lowest strand. He was in a vegetable garden and crossed it on hands and knees. At the back of the lot, he negotiated the wire again very slowly and cautiously, being careful not to put a foot on any dry brush that might crackle in breaking. He realized that this great care might be unnecessary. Fenwick might long since have clambered over the wall and disappeared among the cholla. But he did not think so. Brick was a hardy villain, with a pronounced streak of obstinacy in him. He was crouched back of cover, and he would probably stay there for a time in the hope of getting one of his enemies.
Hal knew a moment later that he had guessed right. The voice of Fenwick came to him out of the darkness. 'Why don't you show up and fight, you damned skulkers?' it called, the defiance a little high and shrill.
The man was getting nervous under the strain, Hal guessed. A long wait in dead silence, with doubts as to what the foe is doing trooping through the mind, is shattering to one's composure.
Hal was back of the wall now, and he crept forward toward it. Soon now, if he had gauged Brick's mentality correctly, the young killer would decide for safety and climb over it to escape.
Back of the wall Hal waited to listen, then stood up and looked over it. He ducked just in time. Fenwick, backing to the wall, began to turn as Hal's head vanished.
The crouching man pressed close to the adobe, every sense alert and wary. He had to judge to the split second the moment of opportunity. His gun still hung in its scabbard. In his right fist the radiator cap was tightly clenched.
Faint sounds told him that Fenwick's hands were resting on the top of the adobe, that his toes were scuffing the soft dirt surface as they came up from the ground. The head of the outlaw showed and leaned forward as the body swung to the top and a leg dropped over. The startled eyes of Fenwick met those of the man he hated. Unable either to attack or defend himself, he lay there helpless while Hal's arm rose and fell. The iron cap crashed against the side of his head.
The force of the blow was deadened by the hat. Fenwick was jarred, but not unconscious. He rolled forward from the wall and grappled with Hal as he went down. The weight of his body dragged Stevens with him. They struggled, their hands searching for grips. Their writhing bodies were so close that neither could reach for a weapon.
Fenwick was as wiry and as muscular as a wildcat. Before Hal could get set, the man had rolled over and was on top. His feet were flung wide to grip the earth for a leverage to hold the advantage. With a mighty heave Hal threw him over toward the wall. The knees of the cattleman clamped against the sides of his foe. He had clung to the radiator cap through the struggle and he smashed it against the distorted face glaring up at him. It struck by chance the vulnerable spot on the chin. Brick's arms and body relaxed. He fell back, completely out.
Hal heard the slap of running feet. Wall pulled up beside him, gun in hand.
'You got him!' he cried. 'Is he dead?'
'Just knocked out.'
Tom stared down at the white, still face, then looked at Hal with a cold, fierce urge shining in his eyes. 'He would be better dead.' The words fell softly.
'Yes,' Hal agreed, but shook his head.
'He never gave a man a break in his life. If he was where you are and you there, how long would you last?'
There was no chance for argument on that point. Hal looked at his companion, a trace of a grim smile on his lips.
'All right, Tom,' he said. 'You kill him.'
Wall gazed at the lax body and the boyish face. 'I reckon I can't do it,' he answered, anger in his voice.
'I thought not. We're under the disadvantage of not being murderers.'
'How came you to get him? Didn't he have a gun in his hand?'
'He had to shove it into its holster while he was climbing the wall. I figured he would have to do that, and I caught him at just the right tick of time.'
Wall thought bitterly, 'He could just as well have shot him then and saved us both a heap of trouble.' Hal guessed what he was thinking. 'Must be a soft streak in me, Tom. I couldn't do it while he didn't have his gun out.' He said it almost as if it were an apology.
The other man nodded. 'Sure. That same disadvantage. What are you going to do with him?'
'Take him to Fair Play and turn him over to Elbert.'
'We'll have to tie him. There's a rope in my car.' Wall started to get it.
'Better bring your car back here. I'd rather get away without being seen.'
'All right.' Wall went to get the car.
The unconscious man stirred. His eyes flickered open, as Stevens was removing his weapon. He digested the situation silently, in his eyes hatred and the fury of defeat.
'Why don't you cut loose with that gun?' he demanded.
Hal did not answer. The young desperado cursed him with deep malignant rage, in a low monotone that spaced the epithets dripping from his thin lips.
Wall drove up in his car and joined them, a rope in his hand. Fenwick fought savagely to keep his hands from being tied behind him. Both of the others were physically more powerful than he, but it was all they could do to rope their prisoner securely. Even after his arms were bound, it was difficult getting him into the automobile.
Tom drove and Hal sat beside Fenwick to watch him. They followed the dirt road through the desert that led to Fair Play, swallowing dust most of the way. The clock in front of a jewelry store registered twelve o'clock as they reached the courthouse square. Sheriff Elbert had to be routed out of bed to receive the prisoner.
'I'll fix you both for this,' Fenwick threatened, with tight-lipped venom as they turned to leave.
As they tramped back to the car, Wall made a sour comment. 'He'll do just that, too, if we're not careful. Black will get him out of jail somehow, and he'll be raring to get us. The hell of it is that we can't go gunning for him, but he can for us. The law is quite a protection for criminals, looks like.'
Hal agreed that being a law-abiding citizen carried its penalties.
CHAPTER 22
Black Is a Little Worried
AS FRAWLEY was driving in to Big Bridge, his car was stopped on the edge of town by Black.
'Did you find Brick?' Frawley asked.
'Yes,' snapped the ranchman. 'Found him and lost him again.'
'What you mean?'
'What I say. Brick had some kind of run-in with that fellow Wall over a girl. Someone stopped it before they got to shooting. As we were coming out here, Wall and some other man crossed the street. Like the damn fool he is, Brick shut off the switch and got out, hell-bent to go after Wall and get him. I haven't seen him since. That was more than an hour ago.'
'What do you think became of him?'
'How would I know? I heard a shot. Just one. If that spells anything.'
They talked the situation over and decided to wait in Big Bridge till morning, by which time Fenwick would probably show up. Without any more data to go on, it was impossible to know what had happened. Brick might have killed Wall, been recognized by the companion of his victim, and fled to the hills to avoid arrest. Or he might have been killed himself. Wall was a tough nut to crack and might have ambushed the man pursuing him.
They ate next morning at the Barnes restaurant. While waiting for the ham and eggs to be served, Black walked to the cashier's desk. The young woman making change for a customer was the one Brick Fenwick had been attentive to, and the ranchman thought it possible she might have some information about him. He mentioned that it was a nice day and then put his question.
The steady eyes of the red-headed girl took in with distaste the soiled and dirty hill man. 'I don't know where he is, and I don't care. My only hope about him is that I never see him again.'
Black's smile was bland and oily. 'You've got that boy wrong, Miss Barnes. I grant you he's a bit wild and sometimes too impulsive, but he has a kind heart.'
'I don't care to discuss him,' she said, and turned to ring up an eighty-five-cent tab paid by another customer.
The cattleman went back to his table. 'No soap,' he told Frawley. 'She is plenty sore at Brick. Likely the rambunctious fool got fresh with her. I dunno why I put up with that boy.'
Frawley's splenetic laughter was derisive. 'You put up with him because he'll do yore dirty work. What's the sense in trying to run any flubdub on me? I know you.'
Into the restaurant walked Hal Stevens and Tom Wall. They took a corner table near the kitchen. After they were seated, Tom said in a murmur, 'Look who is with us.'
Frawley was bristling like a turkey-cock. His face had turned purple with rage. Black said something to him in a low voice. The big man flung out a rough answer loud enough for anybody in the room to hear. 'I don't have to keep still, Tick. I'd as lief tell the so-and-so what I think of him, right damn now.'
Manuel brought the bill of fare to the corner table and left it with Hal, who discussed breakfast with Tom and wrote down their choice. He had got as far as orange juice and oatmeal when Helen walked down the aisle to them.
'I think you'd like the bacon,' she said, and added in a whisper: 'Mr. Black asked me where Fenwick is.'
Hal replied, 'On your recommendation, Miss Barnes, we'll take the bacon.' He wrote on the paper below the word oatmeal, 'Brick is in jail at Fair Play.'
'How do you like your eggs?'
'Sunny side up,' Hal answered. On the breakfast order he scribbled, 'We trapped him last night.'
'Coffee, of course?'
'Without cream for mine,' Wall replied.
Helen took the order and walked into the kitchen.
At the adjoining table Black had been pouring remonstrances into Frawley's ear. He rose and stepped back to the one where the M K men sat.
'I'm a little worried about that boy Fenwick,' he said. 'The kid was to have met us here and he hasn't showed up. I don't suppose either of you have seen him.'
'I wouldn't worry too much about him, Tick,' Hal replied, eyeing his neighbor from the hills coolly. 'A fine young fellow like that wouldn't get into trouble.'
'He flies off the handle too quickly,' Black submitted. 'Like he did the other day with you and young Frank Lovell. I wouldn't blame you if you don't lie him. But I'm kinda responsible to his mother for him. His wildness worries me.'
'Boys will be boys. You must make allowances for high spirits, Tick. Maybe he is a little quick on the trigger, but it is all nice clean fun.'
The hill man slid a quick look at Hal's innocent face. 'I thought perhaps you or Wall might have seen him.'
'You're too conscientious and get disturbed when there is no need. I'll bet that right now he isn't in any mischief at all. Very likely he is studying his Sunday School lesson.' Hal sprinkled sugar on the oatmeal Manuel had just put in front of him, poured cream in the dish, and started to eat.
Black watched the breakfasters, in doubt as to the value of further conversation. 'I suppose you haven't seen Brick, Tom,' he ventured.
'I've been with Hal all night,' Wall said, wooden-faced. 'I haven't seen any more of him than Hal has.'
The oldtimer went back to his table and sat down.
'Well!' rasped Frawley. 'I'll bet you didn't find out a thing.'
The ham and eggs had arrived. Black jerked his plate toward him irritably. 'They've got something up their sleeves. They sat there laughing at me, making but they were dead serious.'
'He'll laugh on the other side of his mouth before I'm through with him,' the big ruffian growled.
'Referring to Stevens, I judge.' The old man's sneer was obvious. 'Better not fool with him, Jim. Even when you have a dead center shot on him, like you had the other morning, all you do is miss. I reckon you had buck fever.'
Frawley thumped on the table angrily. 'Don't ride me, Tick. I won't take it. Not for a minute. How come I to miss was because the sun was in my eyes.' Even in his rage he kept his voice low.
'All right. I ain't riding you. Better luck next time.'
They finished their breakfasts and left. Helen joined her friends quickly. There was nobody else in the room except Manuel, who was removing the used dishes.
'Tell me about it,' she said.
'Brick followed us down an alley,' Wall explained. 'And Hal got onto it. We trapped him back of the Tejon house. When he tried to get away over the wall, Hal was waiting there and knocked him out. We turned him over to Sheriff Elbert at Fair Play.'
'It's a pity you didn't kill him,' Helen said vindictively. 'That man oughtn't to be alive.'
'Right you are,' Wall agreed. 'But we couldn't kill a prisoner who had no gun.'
'I suppose not.' She made a gesture of protest. 'But we'll all live to be sorry for it.'
Hal and Tom both thought that might be true.
'Dale Lovell called me up at the house last night,' Helen said to Stevens. 'She knew that you were on your way to Casa Rita and wanted to make sure there had not been any trouble in town.'
'And you told her?' Hal asked.
'I told her Brick Fenwick had been here making trouble, but that as far as I knew you had not met him.'
'She worries too much about what that young ruffian and his friends will do. After all, they are only a few jumps ahead of the law. With Uncle Sam after them, they won't go far. But I'll phone her after I reach Casa Rita.'
Helen did not think she worried a bit too much and said so. There were probably a dozen outlaws implicated in these cattle raids. If they were caught, all of them would be given stiff terms in prison, except the ones who would be executed. They were desperate men, and as they saw it their safety lay in rubbing out the man who was drawing the net about them closer. If that was not reason enough to fear them, a more personal one could be added. They hated Stevens for the humiliating defeats he had put upon them, and they included his friends in this.
The red-headed girl looked pointedly at Wall as she finished her little harangue. The hot color was in her cheeks, for she did not want him to think her interest was too great.
His easy smile discounted her alarm. 'I'll treat you to a coke at
the drugstore on the day these crooks are sent to Alcatraz in irons, and I'll bring Hal with me. That's a promise.' He put a rider on it. 'Unless Uncle Sam wants me before that time. I hear he is beginning to take cripples into the service.'
Tom had lost two fingers on his right hand when they got caught in a rope with a plunging four-year-old steer at the other end. But he did not regard himself as a cripple even if the draft board did. So far he did not seem to be wanted on land, sea, or in the air. But he still had hopes.
CHAPTER 23
A Gun Goes Off
DALE LOVELL had spent a restless night, filled with dreams of sudden death to the man she loved. Helen had told her that Brick Fenwick was in town and that Tom Wall had escaped being shot down only by his presence of mind. Very guardedly Hal Stevens had mentioned over the telephone that he was leaving for Casa Rita to join Arnold. Since the line was a two-party one, it was possible that somebody connected with the Black gang had been listening. That would explain Brick's presence at Big Bridge. He might be there lying in wait for Hal.
She was up early, spurred by a sudden decision to go to town and make sure there had been no trouble there. With no breakfast except a cup of coffee, she drove down to the valley road and headed for town. The highway followed the course of the river, crossing the stream three times in the first four miles.
The second bridge was a narrow one, with just room enough for two cars to pass. Another automobile was approaching from the other direction, and she waited for it to go by. The driver of it, while still on the bridge, braked swiftly and stopped in the center of the road. He sat there for a moment glaring at her, then got out of the car and lumbered heavily toward her. Early in the morning though it was, Dale could see that Frawley had been drinking. His face was flushed, his eyes glassy.
The other man in the seat called to him, 'Hold on, Jim,' and scrambled out after him. He was Tick Black. Much as Dale disliked and distrusted him, she was glad of his presence.
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