Who Wants to Live Forever?

by William MacLeod Raine

  A chorus of assent drowned Hal's remonstrance. He had done enough. They would carry on while he rested. This avalanche of public opinion proved too much for him. He had to yield to it.

  'You'd better send for a nurse too,' he said sarcastically.

  'Aren't you satisfied with the one you have?' Arnold asked; with a glance at Dale.

  'She is decorative and efficient,' Hal agreed.

  'But bossy,' Dale added. 'Mr. Stevens thinks a woman ought to know her place and keep it. He frequently tells me so.'

  It was decided that two men should stay on the ranch with Hal and the women. Bill Nuney and Carlos Vallejo were picked, chiefly because the others thought it might be embarrassing for them to join in an attack on their former companions. The sheriff's posse was to follow and meet the others at Paddy Ryan's mine. Dale agreed to join Susie in cooking food for the men, to be sent up later either by Elbert or one of the ranch hands.

  In the station wagon Casey, Mike, Wall, and Arnold took the road that wound through the foothills toward the notch in the range beyond the barrancas back of the Seven Up and Down. They saw nothing of the outlaws, who were not following the trace, but cutting directly across the hills. Their plan was to hold the ridge and drive Black's men back if possible. With luck the fellows might be caught between two fires, assuming that the sheriff's men arrived in time to join in the battle before they escaped.

  CHAPTER 38

  Brick Fenwick Needs a Horse

  THE UNEXPECTED arrival of the M K men in the station wagon was a blow to the outlaws. Since the news was out that the hill rustlers were in the valley and on the prod, others would presently pour in to wipe them out Already Doc was wounded. They had better get away before it was too late.

  'I'm lightin' outa here now,' Cash Polk said. 'Mighty soon this place will be a hornets' nest.'

  'You're easy scared, Cash,' Brick Fenwick jeered.

  The boy killer was in a sullen and dangerous mood. He wanted to stay and finish this job. Though he had wounded Stevens, he felt pretty sure the cattleman was not badly hurt. Yet he knew Polk was right. It was time to be going.

  'We can't ride down into the valley now,' Frawley snapped. 'Before we reached the hills we would be cut off sure.'

  That was very likely. No doubt men were already busy at telephones stirring up their neighbors for the man hunt. To reach the Rabbit Ear country by way of the hill notch back of the Seven Up would necessitate circuitous travel over very rough country, but it was the alternative offering the better chance of safety.

  They helped Doc to the saddle, opened the gate into the west pasture, and put their horses to a canter. Fenwick led the way and Doc brought up the rear. The wound of the little rustler was paining him a great deal and the jolting of the cowpony kept his side bleeding. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, but he clamped his teeth to stick it. He leaned forward and clung to the horn of the saddle.

  Polk cut across to ride beside him. 'How you doing, Doc?' he asked.

  The little man said, 'Fine.'

  'Once we reach the hills we can hole-up somewhere and fix you up.'

  'Y'betcha,' Doc grunted, jaws set.

  'Soon as we get through Paddy's Notch we'll be okey,' Polk went on. 'It's not more than four-five miles.'

  They wound in and out among the hills, bearing to the right. Frawley and Fenwick were far ahead of the other two. Polk called to them two or three times, but they paid no attention. They were looking after themselves.

  'Go ahead and join those yellow coyotes, Cash,' advised Doc. 'Probably I won't make it anyhow.'

  Polk had an urgent desire to do just that. Fear was riding his shoulders now. But Doc was his neighbor. They had always been friendly and stood together. He could not ride away and leave him. Weakly he shook a fist at those in front and cursed them bitterly. It was his opinion that after Fenwick and Frawley were through the notch, neither of them would wait for their lagging companions.

  The shoulders of Doc drooped lower. His fingers clung desperately to the saddle horn. But he made no complaint. The horses were walking. Polk rode knee to knee with the wounded man. He knew that Doc could not stay in the hull at any faster gait.

  'Not far now,' Polk encouraged. 'I'd say no more than a mile to the gap.'

  To them there came sounds like the popping of distant firecrackers. Polk pulled up his mount. He knew at once that the pass had been blocked by the enemy. A cold heavy lump of despair settled in his stomach.

  Slowly Doc slid from the saddle to the ground. Polk swung down and pulled the inert body from under the belly of the pony. He had no water. All he could do was to open the clothing of his companion and try to bind a bandanna handkerchief around the wound.

  The beat of a horse's hoofs startled him. Polk dragged out a revolver and waited. A laboring horse pounded at a gallop over the hill crest. Two riders were astride it, Frawley and Fenwick.

  'What happened, boys?' Polk asked.

  Frawley spat out a furious oath. 'They were waiting for us at the gap. One of them got Brick's horse.'

  'Then we're trapped!' Polk cried.

  'Not by a damn sight.' Fenwick swung from the back of the horse to the ground. His cold narrowed eyes fastened on the small huddled body of the unconscious man.

  'Doc fainted,' explained Polk. 'Loss of blood, I guess. Are they coming after us from the notch?'

  Brick showed his teeth in a snarling grin. 'What do you think?'

  'We might get across the range farther down,' Polk suggested, white to the lips with rising fear. 'We'll have to rope Doc on his horse.'

  The evil slitted eyes of Fenwick shuttled back to the slack body at his feet. 'Doc won't need a horse,' he said, almost in a whisper.

  Polk tried to misread what he saw in the face of the young villain. 'That's right. If we left him here, they would take care of him better than we can. He's too sick to travel.'

  'But not too sick to talk later. We'll leave him here, period.' Brick drew a revolver and put a bullet through the temple of the wounded man. 'Three horses — three men,' he said callously. 'That fixes everything nice.'

  Impatiently Frawley cried, 'Let's get outa here before they jump us.'

  Fenwick swung to the saddle of Doc's horse and turned it at the same moment. The big man followed him out of the draw. Polk leaned against his horse, weak and nauseated. Though a man who had long since turned his back on honesty and decency, he was not cold-blooded enough to stomach ruthlessness like this. For two or three minutes he stood there, clenched fingers clinging to the mane of the pony. Waves of fear and horror swept through him. If Fenwick decided he was a nuisance, or if some crazy suspicion filtered into his brain, it would be Polk's turn to go as Doc had gone.

  Cash climbed to the back of his horse and moved down the draw. His two companions were just disappearing over the next rise. They cared nothing about what became of him. He was lucky that Brick had not destroyed him too. The little man came to an abrupt decision. He would cut loose from them and go his own way, clear out of the country if he could do so without being discovered. Maybe he could reach Big Bridge by the back road and from there get to Nogales. Across the line he could bury himself for a time.

  CHAPTER 39

  Two of a Kind

  FRAWLEY PULLED his mount up sharply. 'Listen. Someone coming up the gulch. Several of them.'

  To the fugitives came the sound of a horse's hoof striking a rock. A voice drifted on the wind. Into the ravine ran a draw, angling sharply fifty feet above its mouth. The outlaws turned into it, swung round the bend, and dismounted. Frawley held the horses, while the younger man, rifle in hand, soft-footed to a thick clump of prickly pears from back of which he could watch the travelers in the gulch. A horse nickered in the defile, and Frawley, already shaken by fear, felt the grip of terror tighten his nerves. If one of the ponies he was holding neighed an answer, they were lost.

  Brick counted the riders as they appeared. There were six of them, Sheriff Elbert in the lead, mounted on stock from
the Seven Up and Down remuda. The young killer held his rifle in both hands, ready to lift and fire if the posse turned up the ravine. Elbert held a straight course, and Fenwick breathed a deep lungful of air in relief.

  He rejoined his companion. The hunted men discussed their plight. The hills above and around them would be full of men spreading out to comb the barrancas for them. What chance of safety there was lay below. Nobody at the Seven Up would be expecting their return. At least four or five cars must be parked at the ranch house now. If they could sneak back and get hold of one, they might make a getaway. That was the idea of Fenwick, the bolder of the two. Frawley did not like any part of it, but he liked even less the thought of returning to the valley on horseback.

  'There may be nobody at the Seven Up except the girl and Stevens,' Fenwick urged. 'They figure we haven't a chance, and the whole boiling of them are probably out to get us. Nobody would expect us to double back to the ranch.'

  That might or might not be true, Frawley argued. If Elbert had thought to leave a guard at the ranch, the fellows could mow them down.

  The young killer looked at him with disgusted contempt. 'You talk as if we had a dozen choices. What else can we do — stay here and be trapped — ride down into the valley and be hunted by cars filled with men? It's going to take guts to get us out of this jam, fellow. If you haven't any, you'd better put a gun to yore head.'

  Frawley growled an angry answer.

  They rode in sullen silence till they came to a narrow gulch that ran down to the orchard back of the Lovell house. It was Fenwick's opinion that they had better leave their mounts in the ravine, near the lower end of it, and move forward from there cautiously on foot. Again Frawley was not sure. Perhaps they might have to make a very hurried getaway, and if they were afoot they would be hampered.

  'Didn't I tell you we were going to leave in one of the cars at the ranch?' Fenwick snapped angrily.

  'And if you don't get one?'

  'It will be because I won't need one by that time. You and me, both, you white-livered rat.'

  They tied to young ironwood trees and crossed the brushy slope that led to the mesa upon which the house had been built and the orchard planted. This stretch they took in laps, with mesquites and clumps of cactus as bases behind which to hide, creeping along the open spaces between with great care. As far as they could tell, the ranch headquarters was deserted. It might be there was not a soul there. The Lovell girl could have driven Stevens to town for medical attention. If so, one of the ranch cars must still be here. Frawley knew where the extra keys were kept in Dale's desk. This would be better luck than they could dare hope for, but it was time their bad luck ran out after a long spell of it.

  Through the barbed wire fence at the back of the orchard they snaked, inching forward in the lush grass to the shelter of a peach tree. The fruit season was past, and it was not likely that anybody would be in this part of the orchard. But one could not be sure, and to be seen would prove fatal to any chance of escape. The mesa dipped toward the house. From this distance only the roof of it could be seen through the foliage. They advanced from tree to tree, anxious eyes scanning the terrain. Presently they found themselves in the apple section, and from it they had a clear view of the ranch buildings.

  Frawley caught at the younger outlaw's arm. 'Look!'

  A man had come out of the bunkhouse and was taking a leisurely survey of the landscape, north, south, east, and west. He strolled a few steps toward the orchard, stopped to light a cigarette, then turned to go back into the bunkhouse.

  The face of Fenwick tightened. An evil light came into his eyes. 'It's that double-crosser Nuney. I've a mind to blast him now.'

  'Are you crazy?' Frawley's hand pushed down the half-lifted barrel of the rifle. 'If they find out we're here, we won't have a dead man's chance.'

  'Don't worry.' The face of the killer was feral rather than human. 'I'm saving my first bullet for Stevens.'

  The big man looked at Fenwick suspiciously. He knew the reactions of the young ruffian were not dependable. Because his impulses were not under control, he was as dangerous as a tiger. In his warped mind now might be lurking the intention of killing Stevens now regardless of the cost.

  'Listen, Brick,' he urged, a studied patience in his voice back of which were anxiety and irritation. 'We've got to plan to get out of this tight alive. That comes first. We slip into the house without being seen and cover everybody we meet. No shooting, or they'll come buzzing around us like hornets. If that vixen Dale Lovell is there we'll take her in the car with us. Then they can't shoot. Somewhere this side of Nogales we'll drop her in the desert. If we don't lose our heads, we can pull this off.'

  The boyish desperado slid a sneering look at him. 'Okey, wise guy,' he agreed. 'We'll play it yore way.'

  After they left the orchard, they were in the open for fifty yards. They crossed the vegetable garden and came into the house by way of the kitchen.

  CHAPTER 40

  Hal Says Something He Has Forgotten

  AFTER SHERIFF ELBERT'S posse had caught and saddled, Dale and Hal watched them ride into the hill country back of the ranch.

  'If our boys got to the pass in time and closed it, this may be the end of the road for the Black gang,' Hal said.

  'I hope so,' Dale replied, and took a long deep breath. 'It's a miracle you're still alive.'

  'You were in our little local war too,' he reminded her. 'I won't soon forget seeing you blaze away at those fellows in the pasture. You are one up on Marshal Blücher, if he really turned the tide at Waterloo. This was the second battle you have saved.'

  'My father brought me up outdoors.' She smiled wryly. 'You can't be both a cowboy and a lady. At least I couldn't manage it.'

  He knew she was not fishing for a compliment. She was regretting that the conditions of her life had made her hard and unfeminine. Some instinct deeper than his judgment denied that this was true. The lovely lines of the slender graceful body, the fine dark eyes lighting a beautifully modeled face, the light and jocund tread that made her walk a joy to see, expressed a personality gentle and womanly. She had plenty of spunk, and the hostility she had inherited seemed always to be setting a spark to it. If necessary she could be hard, but his guess was that when she gave her heart to a man the surrender would be generous.

  They walked back into the house. She lit a cigarette for him and another for herself.

  He said, with a whimsical smile, 'When we have taken care of these hill gentry you may find it hard to start hating me again, since we've been through so much together.'

  Beneath the tan a warm color beat into her cheeks. 'I'll never hate you again,' she said, and looked at the tip of her cigarette as if to make sure she had a good light. 'Frank was right when he told me I was a hundred per cent pigheaded.'

  'Something to be said on both sides,' Hal threw out. 'You hold your convictions tightly. Frank is easy-going. He doesn't hate people, at least not often.'

  'Neither do you. I don't suppose you really hate Frawley or Fenwick, though both of them would give anything for a chance to kill you.'

  'Perhaps you can't hate anybody for whom you have a contempt, but I certainly won't be sorry to have the law close on them.'

  'I've been an awful prig,' she confessed, after a moment of thought. 'I hope I've learned to have some tolerance. Because Tom Wall had killed a man, I thought of him as a murderer — and as it turned out I might so easily have killed one myself.'

  'Did you think of me as one?' he asked.

  'No,' she answered swiftly. 'Not for an instant.'

  He pressed the lighted tip of his cigarette against the bottom of an ash tray and did the same with the one in her hand. She looked at him, surprised.

  'We can do better with our time now than smoke,' he told her.

  Her startled glance, born of an immense surprise, flickered over him. A faint tremor passed through her body. He took her hands in his and looked into her eyes.

  'Is it to be the way I want?' he
asked. 'That you and I will walk together all our lives?'

  'Is that what you want — too?' she answered.

  'That's what I want.'

  'Even though I am — the way I am?'

  'Because you are the way you are.'

  'But you've always laughed at me — and showed me up — and enjoyed making me mad.'

  He laughed, still teasing her. 'And you've always lectured me — and disapproved of me — and thought I was a show-off.'

  'Oh, no — never the last,' she protested. 'I thought you were too reckless. I still do. Something inside of you bubbles up when you are in danger. You've kept me so worried.'

  'There's an easier way to wipe away differences than by talk,' he said, and took her in his arms.

  Her warm strong body clung to his. She met his kisses with a passion keen-edged. A trumpet of joy sounded in her heart. She had found her man, the one with whom she wanted to live through the marching years, one to whom she would love making a thousand surrenders.

  When at last she freed herself, she said, mirth in her eyes, 'Isn't there something you have forgotten?'

  He knew what she meant. 'Oh, that,' he said gaily. 'Lovers don't need words to tell each other what they feel. You and I have used words to build a wall between us, and the first kiss blew them all away.'

  'Still, you might say it, for the record.' He loved the laughter in her face. 'Not enough of them to start another quarrel. Just three words.'

  He said them.

  She remembered of a sudden his wound. 'Oh, my dear — your arm!'

  'A scratch. When the doctor gets here he'll laugh at you for calling him.' He added, 'If I were overseas a nurse would dab something on it and a sergeant would hustle me back to my job.'

  'Why aren't you in the army? I've wondered at that, though I'm glad you're not.'

  He explained to her that he had been repeatedly rejected because the authorities thought he was needed at home to raise beef. 'And now I can get in,' he chuckled. 'I'm going to marry a woman who knows all about raising stock. She can run the M K in addition to the Seven Up. That's why I'm marrying her.'