CHAPTER VI
HEELS FOR IT
With a sudden, low command to Sassoon to check his horse, and withouta movement that could be detected in the dawn ten yards away, de Spainwith the thumb and finger of his right hand lifted his revolver fromits scabbard, shifted his lines from his left hand to his right, rodecloser to Sassoon and pressed the muzzle of the gun to his prisoner'sside. "You've got one chance yet, Shike, to ride out of here alive,"he said composedly. "You know I am a rustler--cousin of JohnRebstock's. My name is 'Frenchy'; I belong in Williams Cache. I rodein last night from Thief River, and you are riding out with me tostart me on to the Sleepy Cat trail. If you can remember thatmuch----"
While he spoke to Sassoon his eyes were fixed on the rider halted intheir path. De Spain stopped half-way through his sentence. The figurerevealed in the half-light puzzled him at first. Then it confused andstartled him. He saw it was not a man at all, but a woman--and awoman than whom he would rather have seen six men. It was NanMorgan.
With her head never more decisively set under her mannish hat, herwaist never more attractively outlined in slenderness, she silentlyfaced de Spain in the morning gray. His face reflected his chagrinedperplexity. The whole fabric of his slender plot seemed to go topieces at the sight of her. At the mere appearance of his frail andmotionless foe a feeling of awkward helplessness dissolved his easyconfidence. He now reversed every move he had so carefully made withhis hands and, resentfully eying Nan, rode in somewhat behind Sassoon,doing nothing further than to pull his kerchief up about his neck, andwondering what would be likely to happen before the next three minuteswere up. Beyond that flash the future held no interest for him--hiswits had temporarily failed.
Of one thing he felt assured, that it was in no wise up to him tospeak or do first. He could already see Nan's eyes. They were bentkeenly first on him, then on his companion, and again on him. De Spainkept his face down as much as he dared, and his hat had been pulledwell over it from the beginning. She waited so long before accostingthe two men that de Spain, who was ready to hope any improbable thing,began to hope she might let them pass unchallenged. He had resolved,if she did not speak to push past without even looking at her. Theywere now almost abreast. His fine resolution went smash overboard. Thevery instinctive knowledge that her eyes were bent on his made himsteal a glance at her in spite of himself. The next instant he wasshamefacedly touching his hat. Though nothing was lost on her, Nanprofessed not to see the greeting. He even continued to dream she didnot recognize him. Her eyes, in fact, were directed toward Sassoon,and when she spoke her tone was dry with suspicion.
"Wait a moment, Sassoon. Where are you going?" she demanded. Sassoonhitched with one hand at his trousers band. He inclined his headsulkily toward his companion. "Starting a man on the trail for SleepyCat."
"Stop," she exclaimed sharply, for de Spain, pushing his own horseahead, had managed without being observed, to kick Sassoon's horse inthe flank, and the two were passing. Sassoon at the resolute summonsstopped. De Spain could do no less; both men, halting, faced theirsuspicious inquisitor. She scrutinized de Spain keenly. "What is thisman doing in the Gap?"
"He come up from Thief River last night," answered Sassoon monotonously.
"What is he doing here with you?" persisted Nan.
"He's a cousin of John Rebstock's from Williams Cache," continuedSassoon. The yarn would have sounded decently well in the circumstancesfor which it was intended, but in the searching gaze of the eyes nowconfronting and clearly recognizing him, it sounded so grotesque thatde Spain would fully as lief have been sitting between his horse'slegs as astride his back.
"That's not true, Sassoon," said his relentless questioner. Her toneand the expression of her face boded no friendliness for either of thetwo she had intercepted.
De Spain had recovered his wits. "You're right," he interposed withoutan instant's hesitation. "It isn't true. But that's not his fault; heis under arrest, and is telling you what I told him to tell you. Icame in here this morning to take Sassoon to Sleepy Cat. He is aprisoner, wanted for cutting up one of our stage-guards."
Nan, coldly sceptical, eyed de Spain. "And do you try to tell me"--shepointed to Sassoon's unbound hands--"that he is riding out of here, afree man, to go to jail?"
"I do tell you exactly that. He is my prisoner----"
"I don't believe either of you," declared Nan scornfully. "You areplanning something underhand together."
De Spain laughed coolly. "We've planned that much together, but not, Iassure you, with his consent."
"I don't believe your stories at all," she declared firmly.
De Spain flushed. The irritation and the serious danger bore in onhim. "If you don't believe me it's not my fault," he retorted. "I'vetold you the truth. Ride on, Sassoon."
He spoke angrily, but this in no wise daunted Nan. She wheeled herhorse directly in front of them. "Don't you stir, Sassoon," shecommanded, "until I call Uncle Duke."
De Spain spurred straight at her; their horses collided, and his kneetouched hers in the saddle. "I'm going to take this man out of here,"he announced in a tone she never had heard before from a man. "I've notime to talk. Go call your uncle if you like. We must pass."
"You shan't pass a step!"
With the quick words of defiance the two glared at each other. DeSpain was taken aback. He had expected no more than a war of words--afew screams at the most. Nan's face turned white, but there was nosymptom even of a whimper. He noticed her quick breathing, and felt,instinctively, the restrained gesture of her right hand as it startedback to her side. The move steadied him. "One question," he saidbluntly, "are you armed?"
She hated even to answer, and met his searching gaze resentfully, butsomething in his tone and manner wrung a reply. "I can defend myself,"she exclaimed angrily.
De Spain raised his right hand from his thigh to the pommel of hissaddle. The slight gesture was eloquent of his surrender of the issueof force. "I can't go into a shooting-match with you about this cur.If you call your uncle there will be bloodshed--unless you drop me offmy horse right here and now before he appears. All I ask you is this:Is this kind of a cutthroat worth that? If you shoot me, my wholeposse from Sleepy Cat is right below us in the aspens. Some of yourown people will be killed in a general fight. If you want to shoot me,shoot--you can have the match all to yourself. If you don't, let us goby. And if I've told you one word that isn't true, call me back tothis spot any time you like, and I'll come at your call, and answerfor it."
His words and his manner confounded her for a moment. She could not atonce make an answer, for she could not decide what to say. Then, of asudden, she was robbed of her chance to answer. From down the trailcame a yell like a shot. The clatter of hoofs rang out, and men onhorses dashed from the entrance of the Gap toward them. De Spain couldnot make them out distinctly, but he knew Lefever's yell, and pointed."There they are," he exclaimed hurriedly. "There is the whole posse.They are coming!" A shot, followed closely by a second, rang out frombelow. "Go," he cried to Nan. "There'll be shooting here that I can'tstop!" He slapped Sassoon's pony viciously with his hand, yelled loudin answer to Lefever, and before the startled girl could collectherself, de Spain, crouching in his saddle, as a fusillade crackedfrom Lefever's and Scott's revolvers, urged Sassoon's horse aroundNan's, kicked it violently, spurred past her himself, and was away.White with consternation and anger, she steadied herself and lookedafter the fleeing pair. Then whirling in her saddle, she ran her ponyback to the ranch-house to give the alarm.
Yelling like half a dozen men, Lefever and Scott, as de Spain and hisprisoner dashed toward them, separated, let the pair pass, and spurredin behind to cover the flight and confront any pursuers. None at themoment threatened, but no words were exchanged until the whole party,riding fast, were well past El Capitan and out of the Gap. For someunexpressed reason--so strong is the influence of tradition andreputation--no one of the three coveted a close encounter with theMorgans within its walls.
"It's the long heels
for it now, boys," cried de Spain. His companionsclosed up again.
"Save your horses," cautioned Scott, between strides. "It's a goodways home."
"Make for Calabasas," shouted Lefever.
"No," yelled Scott. "They would stand us a siege at Calabasas. Whilethe trail is open make for the railroad."
A great globe of dazzling gold burst into the east above the distanthills. But the glory of the sunrise called forth no admiration fromthe three men hurrying a fourth urgently along the Sleepy Cat trail.Between breaths de Spain explained his awkward meeting with Nan, andof the strait he was in when Lefever's strong lungs enabled him to getaway unscratched. But for a gunman a narrow squeak is as good as awide one, and no one found fault with the situation. They had theadvantage--the only question was whether they could hold it. And whilethey continued to cast anxious glances behind, Scott's Indian eyesfirst perceived signs on the horizon that marked their pursuit.
"No matter," declared Lefever. "This is a little fast for a fat man,anyway." He was not averse, either, to the prospect of a long-rangeexchange with the fighting mountaineers. All drew rein a little."Suppose I cover the rear till we see what this is," suggestedLefever, limbering up as the other two looked back. "Push ahead withSassoon. These fellows won't follow far."
"Don't be sure about that," muttered Scott. "Duke and Gale have gotthe best horses in the mountains, and they'd rather fight than eat.There they come now."
Dashing across a plain they themselves had just crossed, they couldsee three horsemen in hot chase. The pursued men rode carefully, and,scanning the ground everywhere ahead and behind, de Spain, Scott, andLefever awaited the moment when their pursuers should show their hand.Scott was on the west of the line, and nearest the enemy.
"Who are they, Bob?" yelled Lefever.
Scott scrutinized the pursuers carefully. "One," he called back, "thatbig fellow on the right, is Deaf Sandusky, sure. Harvey Logan, likely,the middle man. The other I can't make out. Look!" he exclaimed,pointing to the foot-hills on their distant left. Two men, riding outalmost abreast of them, were running their horses for a small canyonthrough which the trail led two miles ahead. "Some riding," criedScott, watching the newcomers. "That farther man must be Gale Morgan.They are trying for the greasewood canyon, to cut us off."
"We can't stand for that," decided de Spain, surveying the groundaround them. "There's not so much as a sage-brush here for cover."
Lefever pointed to his right; at some distance a dark, weather-beatencone rose above the yellow desert. "Let's make a stand in the lavabeds," he cried.
De Spain hesitated. "It takes us the wrong way." He pointed ahead."Give them a run for that canyon, boys."
Urging their horses, the Sleepy Cat men rode at utmost speed to beatthe flanking party to the trail gateway. For a few minutes it lookedan even break between pursuers and pursued. The two men in thefoot-hills now had a long angle to overcome, but they were doing abetter pace than those of the Gap party behind, and half-way to thecanyon it looked like a neck-and-neck heat for the narrow entrance.Lefever complained of the effort of keeping up, and at length reinedin his horse. "Drop me here on the alkali, boys," he cried to theothers. "I'll hold this end while you get through the canyon."
"No," declared de Spain, checking his pace. "If one stays, all stay.This is as good a time as any to find out what these fellows mean."
"But not a very good place," commented Scott, as they slowed, lookingfor a depression.
"It's as good for us as it is for them," returned de Spain abruptly."We'll try it right here."
He swung out of his saddle, Lefever and Scott after an instant'sreconnoissance following. Sassoon they dismounted. Scott lashed hiswrists together, while de Spain and Lefever unslung their carbines,got their horses down, and, facing the west and south, spreadthemselves on the ground.
The men behind lost nothing of the defensive movement of the pursuedparty, and slowed up in turn. For the moment the flankers were out ofsight, but they must soon appear on the crest of a rise between themand the canyon. Lefever was first down and first ready with his rifleto cover the men behind. These now spread out and came on, as if for arush.
Lefever, picking Logan, the foremost, sent a warning shot in front ofhim. De Spain fired almost at the same moment toward the big manmaking a detour to the right of the leader. The two bullets puffed inthe distant alkali, and the two horsemen, sharply admonished, swervedbackward precipitately. After a momentary circling indecision, thethree rode closer together for a conference, dismounted, and opened areturn fire on the little party lying to.
The strategy of their halt and their firing was not hard to penetrate.The men from the foot-hills were still riding for the canyon. No viewswere exchanged among Sassoon's captors, but all understood that thismove must be stopped. Lefever and Scott, without words, merely leftthe problem to de Spain as the leader. He lay on the right of the lineas they faced south, and this brought him nearest to the riders out ofthe foot-hills. Taking advantage of a lull in the firing, he pulledhis horse around between himself and the attacking party, and in sucha position that he could command with his rifle the fast-moving ridersto the west.
Something of a predicament confronted him. He was loath to take ahuman life in the effort to get a cutthroat jailed, and hated even tocripple a beast for it, but the two men must be stopped. Nor was iteasy to pick up the range offhand, but meaning that the Morgans, ifthey were Morgans, should understand how a rush would be met, he sentone shot after another, short, beyond, and ahead of the horsemen, tocheck them, and to feel the way for closer shooting if it should benecessary. The two dashed on undaunted. De Spain perceived thatwarnings were wasted. He lowered his sights, and, waiting his chanceas the leader of the foot-hill pursuers rode into a favorable range,he fired for his horse's head. The beast jumped convulsively andpitched forward, head down in a half somersault, throwing his riderviolently to the ground. Scott and Lefever yelled loudly.
Out of the cloud of dust the man scrambled to his feet, looked coollyaround, and brushed the alkali disgustedly from his eyes just as asecond bullet from de Spain tore up the earth a few feet to one sideof him. He jumped like a rabbit at this summons, and did not even makea further pretense at composure. Grabbing his hat from the ground, heran like mad toward the hills. Meantime his mounted companion hadturned about. De Spain sprang to his feet, jerked up his horse andcried: "Now for the canyon!" Pushing Sassoon into the saddle andprofiting by the confusion, the railroad men rode hard for theirrefuge, and reached it without more molestation than an occasionalshot from their distant pursuers on the main trail. De Spain and hisscouts now felt assured of their escape. The foot-hills contingent wasleft far behind, and, though their remaining pursuers rode in at timeswith a show of rushing, the chase was a stern one, and could bechecked whenever necessary. Halting at times in this way to breathetheir horses, or to hold off the rear pursuit, de Spain with his twocompanions and their prisoner rode into Sleepy Cat, locked Sassoon up,and went to the Mountain House for breakfast.
Nan of Music Mountain Page 7