Green had no eyes for the beauty through which they passed; outwardly calm, he was inwardly consumed with rage at the thought that Noreen might be at the mercy of a man like Tarman, and his one aim was to get to her as quickly as possible. Since his companion was equally eager they wasted no more time than was necessary over their meals. So it came about that it was still light when they neared their destination and halted to settle upon a plan of procedure. Securely hidden in the thick undergrowth, they could see the ranch buildings a few hundred yards away. Two spirals of smoke showed that they were occupied, and the number of ponies in the corral suggested that most of the men were about. Slipping from his own mount, Green cautiously worked his way to a position from which he could view the animals in the enclosure. Presently he was back again, his face hard with anger.
`Her hoss is there an' it's a safe bet the girl is in the ranch-house, where the foreman lives,' he said. `I'm goin' to get her. If yu don't hear nothin' from me in an hour, fork yore cayuse an' fetch Job an' the boys.'
Larry demurred. `We'd stand a better chance if both of us tackled the job. This messenger-play don't appeal none to me.'
`Don't yu ever use that head for anythin' but keepin' yore ears apart?' asked his friend sarcastically. `No, it ain't a bit o' good yu cussin' me, yu gotta do as I say, she's the on'y trail out. So long, an' don't yu come bustin' in if yu hear guns goin'. Head for the Y Z, pronto.'
`But, see here--' began Larry, and then discovered he was talking to the empty air. `Blamed idjut,' he concluded, and sat down to wait.
Green crawled to a point where the bushes most nearly approached the buildings, and then, in the deepening dusk, darted across the open space and gained the rear of the ranch-house. The door proved to be latched only and cat-footing along a passage, he came to another door, partly open, from which a gleam of light shone. Peeping in, he saw Jeffs sitting at the table, laboriously inscribing figures on a sheet of paper before him. Apparently the task was both a pleasant and engrossing one for he was smiling, and did not notice the gradual opening of the door and the entry of a visitor.
`Stick 'em up,' came a curt command.
With a jerk the foreman's head lifted, and his hands quickly followed when he saw the weapon and realised who held it. `Sudden?' he gasped.
`All o' that,' responded Green grimly. `Now, speak low an' talk straight. Where's Miss Petter?'
`Never heard of her,' replied Jeffs sullenly.
`Don't lie,' Green told him. `Yo're about two seconds from hell right now. Come clean or
The tone betrayed no anger but there was a cold deadliness in it which told the other that he must speak or die. He was a brave man and had gambled his life on a chance many a time, but here there was no chance.
`There's a skirt upstairs in a back room,' he admitted. `Some-thin' Spider took a fancy to, I s'pose. I dunno who she is.' `Stand up an' face the wall,' Green said shortly.
Stripped of his weapons, gagged, and tied securely in his chair, Jeffs still eyed his captor's movement with a sardonic expression which, had Green noted it, might have aroused his suspicion, but his mind was too full of his purpose. Having fixed the prisoner to his satisfaction, he set out in search of the girl. The first two rooms he came to were open and empty, but the door of the third was locked.
`Yu there, Miss Norry?' he asked, in low voice.
`Yes,' came the reply. `Who is that?'
He told her, with a warning to stand clear while he burst the door open. One thrust from his powerful shoulder broke the flimsy lock, and the light of a guttering candle disclosed her sitting on a ramshackle bed, her bound hands before her.
`No time to talk,' he said, as he severed her bonds, stuffing a curse when he saw where the thong had chafed her wrists. `We gotta get outa this. Larry's waitin' with the hosses.'
Cautioning the girl to follow him as quietly as possible he stole down the stairs. All went well until he had nearly reached the bottom and then his foot caught in a rope and he pitched headlong down the last few steps. As he fell, two men sprang upon him and a jarring blow on the head knocked the senses out of him.
He returned to consciousness to find himself in the room where he had left Jeffs a prisoner, but now the position was reversed, for his own wrists and ankles were tightly bound. As the mist caused by the blow he had received cleared from his brain, he realised the extent of the disaster which had befallen him, and how it had come about. Evidently after he had gone upstairs, Taxman and his gang had come upon the scene, and finding the foreman, had laid a trap. They were all there, these men who hated him, and were now watching him with malignant amusement. The girl was not present. Tarman greeted him with a mocking bow.
`This is shore an unexpected pleasure,' he sneered. `If our welcome seems a trifle rough, yu must put it down to the boys' delight at yore return to the fold, an' their desire to keep yu with us for a little while.'
The victim's head was throbbing with pain, and he looked for nothing but death ere an hour had passed, but he forced a contemptuous smile to his lips as he replied :
`I ain't complainin','
`Spoken like a true knight-errant. The brave outlaw dashes to the rescue of the fair damsel an' runs his silly neck slap into a noose,' Tarman jeered. `Bit reckless to tackle this job single-handed, wasn't it, Sudden?'
`Mebbe it was,' Green agreed. So they knew nothing of Larry, and by this time the boy should be well on his way to the Y Z. `I reckon yu hold all the cards,' he added.
`Shore I do, an' what's more, I'm agoin' to let yu see how I intend to play 'em,' Tarman returned. `After which, we'll attend to yore case.'
`Why not hang the swab right now an' have done with it?' suggested Dexter. `He knows too much.'
Tarman whirled on the speaker with such a baleful glare that the Double X man instinctively shrank back.
`He'll know more before I've done with him,' he said. `An' so will some others if they try an' ride me.' He waited a moment but Dexter had nothing to say. `Now we'll get on with the business.'
Standing there, his thumbs hooked in his gun-belt, he dominated them all, and even Green had to admit that man possessed power, misdirected though it undoubtedly was. Tarman was in a good humour, everything was coming his way, and the capture of the outlaw seemed to remove his last difficulty. But though he smiled, he watched the men before him warily; he was not of the trusting type.
`Here's how we stand,' he began. `Old Simon is peggin' out, an' when he's gone the Y Z comes to me.'
`What about his daughter?' asked Blaynes. `Ain't it willed to her?'
`She ain't his daughter--no relation at all, an' if there ever was such a will it don't exist now,' explained Tarman, and a meaning chuckle went round the room. `The Frying Pan is wide open--Leeming an' his outfit are lookin' for what they won't find, an' to-morrow mornin' we go an' take what we want. I reckon then he'll be glad to sell on my terms, an' holdin' them two ranches'll give me the say-so in these parts. Then there's the cattle; after to-morrow's clean-up, there should be pretty nigh two thousand head, an' that'll mean a heavy wad o' money for every one o' yu. On top o' that, I'll be needin' men to run the ranches an' there'll be big pay for any or all o' yu. Don't make no mistake--I'm agoin' to swing a wide loop an' fellers who tie to me get their share.'
`King o' the Rangers, eh, Joe?' Laban said.
Tarman laughed. `Shore, an', boys, there'll be plenty pickin's, believe me.'
He paused and looked round, confident of the effect of his speech, and he was not disappointed. To Green's astonishment, the men seemed pleased; apparently they could not see that the big rogue had used them merely to grab the lion's share of the plunder himself. Tarman was clever; he knew that to these men land would have small appeal in comparison with the hard cash to be realised by the sale of the stolen cattle, and that in all probability his followers were thinking they had the better of the deal. But all of them were not so satisfied, for Blaynes had listened to his leader with a face which grew more and more discontented. Evident
ly things were not panning out as he expected.
`What yu aimin' to do with the girl?' he asked, and there was a hint of hostility in his tone.
Tarman looked at him. `I'm aimin' to do what--I--please,' he said coolly.
`She was to be part o' my share; yu said it,' Blaynes rasped, his voice husky with anger.
`I hadn't seen her then,' Tarman grinned, and several of the others laughed.
The Y Z foreman did not join in. Standing in the middle of the room, slightly crouching, with head thrust forward and malevolent eyes, he was indeed the human presentment of a reptile about to strike. Even his voice had a hiss in it.
`She was promised to me an' I mean to have her--an' a share in the ranch,' he said. `Double-cross me, Tarman, an' I'll put a crimp in yore schemes if I have to give myself up to the Governor o' the Territory to do it.'
Tarman regarded him curiously, alert for the slightest movement; he knew the man meant what he said and that tragedy threatened. He had expected trouble over the girl, but not that Blaynes would push it to the point of open insubordination. In a moment he had made his decision.
`Hell's bells, there's plenty o' pretty girls, Blaynes,' he laughed, `but if yo're set on this one, well, yu shall have her--when I've done with her.'
The taunt was deliberate, intentional; it was a challenge, and a deadly silence followed it. For a heart-stopping half-minute Blaynes stood as though frozen, only his eyes glaring hatred at the man who mocked him. Then the fingers of his hanging right hand slowly opened claw-like, and with an almost inarticulate oath he snatched at his gun. To the onlookers the reports seemed to be simultaneous, but then, through the swirling smoke, they saw the Y Z foreman stagger under the shock of the heavy bullet, and, as his knees gave way, pitch forward to the floor, his weapon clattering beside him. Twisting in a last agony, he shook his fist at Tarman and cried :
`Damn yu, Webb, yu got me, but yore own time ain't far off, yu treacherous hound.'
He rolled over and was silent. Tarman, his gun poised for a second shot, watched him with narrowed, relentless gaze. Then, seeing that all was ended, he thrust the weapon back into the holster.
`Well, boys, yu all heard what he threatened an' seen him go for his-gun,' he said. `Anybody want to take up his end of it?'
`Even break; he got what was comin' to him, the sneakin' cur,' said Pete, and that seemed to be the general opinion.
`Good enough,' Tarman resumed. `His share goes into the main fund--I don't want none of it.'
Two of the men carried the corpse into another room, and on their return Tarman said, `Now we gotta settle what to do with our friend here,' and he waved a hand towards the prisoner. `Hands up for stretchin' him right away.'
Every man in the room, save one, elevated a paw, several jocularly put up both. Tarman looked round with a grin.
'Hell! yu don't seem to he none popular in this community, Sudden,' he commented. `There's on'y one as ain't anxious to see you dance on nothin'. What's yore objection, West?'
`Well, boss,' replied California, who alone had kept his hands down, `here's how I look at it. This feller's worth ten thousand wheels alive, an' nothin' dead, an' it 'pears to me a waste o' good money to swing him when there's folks who'll pay that amount an' do it for us.'
`Yes, an' give him a chance to tell his little tale,' interposed Dexter. `Where'd we be then?'
`Where we are now,' retorted West. `Yore head's about as useful as it is ornamental. Who's goin' to take the word of an outlaw agin the fellers who gave him up? Why, yu couldn't find a better way o' stoppin' any gab there may be. I can see a public vote o' thanks bein' passed to our prominent citizen an' landowner, Mr. Tarman, for accomplishin' what half-a-dozen sheriffs have fallen down on.'
`By God, he's right, boys,' Tarman cried, his imagination caught by the prospect. `That's a tally for yu, West, an' when we come to cuttin' up the beef I'm not forgettin' it.' He turned and grinned at the captive. `Yu have a few more weeks to live, Mr. Sudden.'
Green did not answer; the last words of Tarman's latest victim were still ringing in his ears. He knew now that this was the man for whom he had searched so long. He was bigger, for he had filled out, and with the addition of a beard, and his dyed hair, it was not to be wondered at that Green had failed to recognise him under his assumed name, for he had seen him but a few times at Evesham's ranch. `The Spider' might have suggested something but curious nicknames were the rule rather than the exception in the West. Tarman stepped in front of him.
`I take the pot, my friend,' he jeered. `Thought yu could play a hand against me, did yu? As for the girl...'
`Keep yore foul tongue off her,' blazed the bound man. `If yu had the courage of a coyote, yu'd turn me loose an' fight it out, but yu haven't; swindlin' old men an' bullyin' unprotected girls is yore limit.'
The big man's face grew purple with rage and he ground his teeth. `For a busted nickel I'd ante up ten thousand no the boys for the pleasure o' blowin' yu apart,' he snarled.
`If I had a busted nickel I'd shore give it yu,' Green retorned, adding contempnuously, 'Yu'd only rob me of it if I didn't.'
But Tarman had got himself in hand again. `Yu don't get off that easy,' he said. `Live, damn yu, with a rope in sight, an' to comfort yu, the knowledge that the girl is in my power an' I don't intend to marry her, savvy?'
The prisoner remained unmoved. `Tarman or Webb or whatever yore name may be, I figure yo're the poorest pretence of a man I ever struck--an' I struck yu once good an' plenty, didn't I?' he jeered.
Tarman's face went livid and his fists clenched. `Here, West, yu an' Durran lock this feller up an' keep an eye on him,' he gritted, `or I'll be savin' the hangman a job yet.'
Assisted by West and followed by Durran, the outlaw shuffled up the stairs. On the way, West managed to whisper: `It was a close call, partner; I couldn't think o' no other way. I ain't forgettin' that rattler.' Then he thrust him violently through a door, slammed and locked it upon him.
Chapter XXII
EARLY the following morning, Stiffy, returning from Hatchett's, heard a drumming of hoofs behind him and being of a suspicious nature, forced his mount into the brush at the side of the trail and waited. The drumming grew louder and then a band of riders galloped past. In the half-light he recognised several of them. He saw too that the horses had been hard-ridden, and that the faces of the riders were set and determined.
`Looks like the Frying Pan outfit, fifteen of 'em, an' they ain't on no joy-ride neither,' he muttered. `Headed for the Crossed Dumb-bell shore enough. I gotta take the short trail an' warn Jeffs.'
Mounting again he rode for about half a mile and then turned off to the left at a point where there was a faint, narrow trail, little more than a run-way for wild creatures. A glance showed him that the horsemen ahead had kept straight on, and with a sigh of relief he plunged into the narrow pathway, stooping to avoid the branches which threatened to sweep him from the saddle.
The next half hour proved cruel work, and but for the fad that both knew their business, either man or beast must have come to grief. Through thickets and gullies, over rock-rimmed ridges, along a trail which wound like a ribbon amidst seemingly impassable undergrowth, slipping, staggering, the nimble little pony keeping its feet by a miracle of agility, they pressed on until at length they emerged on an open stretch and with a last burst of speed, reached their objective. All was quiet, but the man knew he could not be far ahead of the visitors and wasted no time. Limping, for the wild ride had tried his wounded leg severely, he ran to the door and hammered on it with his quirt. It was Jeffs who opened it.
"Lo, Stiffy, what's eatin' yu?' he asked. `Thirsty?'
`The Frying Pan outfit's on its way here an' liable to arrive any minit,' panted the other. `I come the short trail but--well, yu know what that is. There's fifteen of 'em, an' I reckon they're painted for war.'
`Hell,' cried the foreman, the grin fading from his face instantly. `Come an' tell the Spider.'
They went into the big
room where Tarman, Pete, and most of the others were getting breakfast. The leader took the news calmly, and was clever enough to let it appear that he welcomed the change in his plans.
`Fine,' he said. `We clean up now instead o' later on, an' if they come askin' for it, we can't be blamed. Fifteen of 'em, eh? Well, there's twenty of us an' we're under cover. Rustle in plenty grub, water, an' cartridges--we'll hold this place. The Frying Pan outfit, boys, is the last ditch we gotta straddle; after that, it's easy goin' for all of us.'
Laughing and joking, the men set about the task of putting the ranch-house in a state of defence. Built of stout logs which would resist any bullet, it was admirable for the purpose. The vulnerable spots were the doors and windows, the latter, however, being protected by heavy shutters loop-holed to enable the attacked to retaliate. On all sides the ground had been cleared so as to render the storming of the building a perilous undertaking. So the garrison might well await the issue with confidence. But Tarman, though he showed a bold front to his men, was perplexed. That the ranch he was purposing to raid should suddenly turn the tables was something he could not understand. Poker Pete too was ill at ease.
`Beats me how Leeming got wise to this place,' he said.
`I figure Green warn't alone last night,' Tarman replied. `He musta left the other feller waitin' in the brush with orders to ride for help if he didn't come back with the girl in a certain time. We oughtta thought o' that. We gotna wipe 'em out, Pete, every damn one of 'em.'
The gambler nodded gloomily, not that the prospect of slaying a dozen or so of his fellow-creatures disturbed him, but because he realised that the task was not going to be an easy one. A hail from outside interrupted the conversation, and peering through the loop-hole, they saw a solitary horseman sitting easily in the open, his rifle across his knees. It was the Frying Pan owner himself. At a word from Tarman, the foreman flung open the front door and leaning carelessly against the jamb, asked: `An' what might yu be wantin'?'
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