Ted Strong in Montana

by Taylor, Edward C

  "He is a bad egg, then," said Ted, as the major paused.

  "You would scarcely believe how bad he was if I were to read the story of his career."

  "I suppose he had been bothering her since in order to get more money from her."

  "Yes, she says that he made her life miserable, and that he often threatened to kill her if she didn't give him all she had."

  "Hearing of her death, he came here to steal everything he could lay his hands on; is that it? But I don't quite see why the authorities here, knowing of her divorce from him, would permit him to take possession of her effects, from any ownership in which the courts had barred him."

  "I don't suppose the people here knew anything about it, for she says in this paper that she got her divorce secretly, and that there was no publicity about it. She simply had her lawyers notify Mowbray to that effect, at which time she sent him ten thousand dollars in settlement of all claims against her, which he agreed to accept with that understanding. But later he wrote her a letter in which he said that the agreement meant nothing to him, and that he would expect more."

  "But why didn't she make the fact that he was no longer her husband public? It would have saved this trouble."

  "She didn't want the news of it to travel to our parents in England. That was her pride."

  "I see. Does she leave him anything in her will?"

  "Yes. Her will is a curious document. It was evidently made immediately after her divorce from Mowbray, and leaves all her property to our mother, and, after her death, to my brother and myself, with a small bequest to silence Mowbray. But there is a codicil which leads me to believe that she had heard of mother's death, in which event she leaves almost everything to her brother, Frederic Caruthers. He is the one known as Fancy Farnsworth."

  "Nothing to you?"

  "Oh, yes, but not so much as to Fred, whom she puts in my care, asking me to see that he is properly treated and that he gets the justice which is his due."

  "Evidently she knew, then, that he has many enemies who were trying to put him within the clutches of the law."

  "Evidently. But there is a section which I do not understand."

  "Read it. Perhaps we can figure it out between us."

  "All right, I will. The paragraph is as follows: 'I desire that my elder brother, John Stairs Caruthers, shall take charge of my property in the event that the said Frederic Caruthers shall not be present when my will is opened, and that he shall be found as speedily as possible. For several years Frederic Caruthers has been my only protector, defending me from the abuse and greed of my former husband, and, further, sustaining my credit and honor by assuming the misdeeds of Mowbray, to his own discredit and danger. Had it not been for his watchful care, I would long ago have been stripped of all I have been able to accumulate, and have been in my grave at the hands of Mowbray. But of this latter I am in constant dread, and I feel such will yet be my fate. If my dead body is found with marks of violence on it, and my house robbed, it will have been the work of said Mowbray. Therefore, in the way of a tardy reward for the loyalty, care, protection, and love given me by my brother, Frederic Caruthers, I leave to him the bulk of my property, personal and real, in mining stocks, jewels, money, and the turquoise beds in New Mexico, as well as the San Fernando Ranch. I especially charge my brother John Stairs Caruthers to find his brother, and to defend him and clear his name, should it be necessary, and to put him in full possession of his property.'"

  As the major finished reading he looked at Ted inquiringly.

  "Well, what do you make of it?" he asked. "I confess it puzzles me."

  "I can see through it. But you have your work cut out for you, major."

  "In what way?"

  "You will find this fellow Mowbray a hard customer."

  "Pshaw! I am not afraid of him."

  "Neither am I, for that matter; but it is not he alone that is to be feared in this matter."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Just this: Mowbray evidently is an archvillain, but he could not do all his dirty work alone."

  "You think he has accomplices, then?"

  "Exactly. And of the most dangerous sort."

  "For instance?"

  "I have been thinking the matter over, and I am convinced that Mowbray has got about him the most dangerous sort of a gang to carry on his work for him. Do you know if he is a man of any particular force and cleverness?"

  "When I knew him, which was before I went to India, he was already beginning to practice his shady transactions in England, but he had never been directly caught at it. This led to the greatest opposition on the part of my family to his marriage to my sister."

  "But, in spite of it, she married him?"

  "Yes; she had an idea that he was abused and misrepresented, and flew to his defense by secretly marrying him. After that he got worse and bolder until he was caught not only cheating at cards, but actually stealing by means of forgery and in other ways, and they had to flee from England."

  "Then, of course, he is a master in crime by this time."

  "It would not surprise me to learn it. But you spoke of his being especially dangerous because of the men he had gathered about him?"

  "Yes, and I mean it. I am sure now that in his gang are several men who are especially dangerous, because they can defy the law without much risk of running counter to it."

  "I don't see how one man can break the law with less danger of punishment than another."

  "It is this way: Mowbray has in his gang several deputy United States marshals. These men have advance information of any action to be taken by the law against the suspected perpetrators of crime. This information is at once at the disposal of Mowbray, and he can escape the consequences of his crimes without difficulty. He is protected, also, by his partners rigging up accusations against innocent persons, and convicting them by manufacturing evidence against them."

  "What a villainous system!"

  "It is. And it is just this thing that has enabled Mowbray to prey on his wife for so long a time."

  The major uttered an exclamation of anger.

  "Another thing," continued Ted: "I am sure now that it was these very pals of Mowbray that made the accusations against your brother, known as Farnsworth, at the instance of Mowbray. They nursed public resentment against the young fellow until every hand was against him, and he was forced to become an outlaw, or fall into the hands of the authorities and be forced into prison, or to the gallows, through the perjury of these same deputy marshals. It is an infamous thing, and I am going to try to sift it to the bottom and clear your brother, and see that Mowbray gets what's coming to him."

  "You are very good, and I shall never forget what you have done for me already."

  "That's all right. It's my duty as an officer of the United States in this Territory of Arizona to do it. Never fear; there will be more to this than the beginning, and a race is not won until it is ended."

  All night one or the other of the boys patrolled the grounds, hiding in the shrubbery, ready to give the alarm should any of Mowbray's party return to attack the house and capture the treasure.

  But dawn broke without an alarm, and the boys were astir, making ready for the abandonment of the house and the return to the Bubbly Well Ranch.

  Ted was feeling so much better after a good night's rest that he was able to climb into his saddle and go into the town.

  His object was to get a wagon and a span of mules in which to transport the remains of Helen Mowbray and the valuables she had left behind to her brother's house.

  At a livery stable he met the proprietor, a garrulous old man, whom, when he had explained his mission, looked at him strangely before speaking.

  "What's doin' at the Mowbray house?" he asked. "We all uptown was some curious last evenin' when we heard so much shootin'."

  "Nothing much," said Ted. "Just a little pistol practice."

  The old man grinned.

  "Yuh musta kep' ther targets warm some from ther way ther p
oppin' sounded up yere," he said dryly.

  "Yes, it was rather warm for a while. Well, can I have the wagon, and a driver to bring it back?"

  "I don't know whether I can spare one or not. Yuh see, it's some dangerous ter take sides in this town."

  "I don't want you to take my side. All I want is to complete a business transaction with you. I want you to hire me a wagon and team for a day. You understand what I want?"

  "Yes, but, yuh see, that would be considered as givin' succor ter ther enemy."

  "I don't understand why."

  "It's this way: Judge Harris owns this stable an' rents it to me by ther month. He could kick me out to-morrow if he wanted to. He's a queer dick, an' him an' Burk, what, I understand, was at ther Mowbray house yesterday, and what had ter run away, is as close as two sheets o' sticky fly paper."

  "He is, eh?"

  "Yes; an' the coroner, the jailer, the mayor, the sheriff, an' everybody else what has any power er authority, is in the same boat. They all hang together, an' they're all friends o' Mr. Mowbray. Lord Mowbray they calls him."

  "Ah, ha!" thought Ted. "If that is the case, it behooves us to get out of town and to Bubbly Well with our property as soon as we can."

  After some further talk Ted was still unable to get the old man to rent him a wagon. Then he changed his tactics.

  "Well," he said, in a firm voice, "if you won't rent me the wagon and team I'll be obliged to confiscate it for the United States."

  "Eh, how is that?"

  "I said I would take it for the uses of the United States. Come, roll it out and hitch up before I have to resort to violence."

  "I don't know you, bub. I'm from Missouri. You'll have to show me."

  Ted exposed his star of authority.

  "Does that go?" he asked. "Because if it don't, this will."

  His revolver was out of its holster like a flash, much to the surprise of the liveryman, who had been somewhat of a bad man himself in his day, and gun plays were not uncommon at Rodeo.

  He gazed mildly into the bore of the big, silver-mounted forty-five, and then murmured:

  "It goes, pal."

  * * *

  CHAPTER XX.

  KNIFE AND FANG.

  Several days had passed since the fight at Helen Mowbray's house, and Ted Strong and the broncho boys were again at the Bubbly Well Ranch.

  The remains of Helen Mowbray had been laid to rest near the major's ranch house in a little lot surrounded by a low fence, and her treasure was safely stored away in the safe in the major's bedroom.

  The period of their visit to the ranch house was past, but still they stayed to help the major to get word of his brother Frederic Caruthers, alias Fancy Farnsworth, alleged to be the worst man in Arizona.

  Where he might be none knew, of course, but Ted was of the opinion that he was still somewhere in Arizona, and not far away, either.

  He could not have told why he believed so, but he had one of his "hunches" to that effect, and believed it as surely as if he knew it for a fact.

  Ted had seen his hunches turn out true so often that he did not attempt now to distrust them.

  Somehow, he felt that everything was to come out all right some day, and that he would find Farnsworth, or Frederic Caruthers, to be more exact, and Ted always reproached himself when he thought of the young fellow by his false name.

  One morning Ted awoke before the dawn, sitting upright in bed, listening for a sound, but heard nothing unusual.

  This was one of Ted's habits—to be aroused by some unknown sense in the night when danger threatened.

  Hearing nothing, he got out of bed, and sat on its edge and listened again.

  "Wonder what waked me?" he muttered to himself. He was not in the least sleepy, as he would have been if he had wakened naturally.

  "I don't think I was dreaming," he continued to mumble to himself. "And it wasn't a noise. Must have been a hunch. Guess I'll get up and see if there's anything wrong about here."

  He slipped swiftly into his clothes, and sauntered through the living room.

  It was just beginning to get light outside, and the windows were gray, while all else in the room was still dark.

  He opened the door and stepped out into the chill morning.

  Then he heard a noise, but so faint that it couldn't have been that which had disturbed him from his sound sleep, he thought.

  But as the sound came nearer on the clear, thin morning air, and he recognized it and realized its significance, he knew that it was this fine, almost indistinguishable sound that had penetrated in some mysterious manner to his inner ear and called him from his sleep.

  It was the cry of a hungry and angry wolf.

  At last he located the sound off to the east, but as yet he could see nothing, for it was not yet light enough, and a thin mist, like a mirage, hung over the surface of the sandy prairie and obscured the view.

  For a long time he stood listening to the long-drawn and savage howl, thinned out by the distance and mist, but he knew that it was coming nearer, and that the animal that was making it was not only hungry, but that it was a master wolf. It was none of the gaunt, half-starved, cowardly brutes that follow in the pack and take what the master wolf leaves of the scraps of the murdered calf or sick cow or sheep which the leaders of the pack have pulled down.

  He had heard before the yells of these kings of the packs of savage prairie wolves, and they were masterful indeed, and could easily be distinguished above the feebler pipings of the wolf rabble.

  Suddenly the sun came up and the mists disappeared as by magic, and it was light.

  Ted looked steadily toward the place from which the howls had come when it was dark, and saw a spot against the earth.

  It was either a pony or a cow, and it was in trouble, for it came on very uncertainly, running sideways, stopping for a moment to kick, then running on again.

  Ted immediately saw what was the matter. It was being pursued by the wolves he had heard.

  The wolves were running with it, perhaps had been chasing it all night, and were snapping it its heels, trying to hamstring it.

  He thought it was a small, lean cow from this distance, and wondered at its courage, and if it would last until it got close enough to where there were human beings to be safe from further pursuit.

  At first he thought of going inside and putting on his coat and boots and getting his arms and starting out toward it on his pony. But this was too much trouble, and he stood watching the tragedy of the plain, hoping for the plucky animal that was doing its best to outrun and outwit the wolves, for they were close enough now for him to see that there were four of the gray devils of the prairie.

  But only one of them was worthy of a second look—a great, gray brute much larger than his mates and twice as courageous.

  Ted thought it strange that the wolf king was not doing as the others did; that is, running up behind their victim and making a slash at his legs with their razorlike fangs, then retreating with a whining howl when they felt the heels of the poor brute they were tormenting.

  No, the big wolf was leaping high into the air from the side, evidently trying to reach something that was fastened to the pony's back—for now Ted was able to distinguish what it was.

  It was a bay pony, rather small, and almost all in with fatigue.

  Something baggy was tied to its back, which resembled a bundle of old clothes.

  Once, as he watched, Ted saw the pony go to its knees, actually tired out and weak.

  But it was up again, and struggling bravely on again.

  "Plucky little beggar," muttered Ted, in admiration. "Wish I had taken my first hunch and ridden out to help it. By Jove, it's not too late yet!"

  Without going into the house Ted jumped to the ground and ran out to meet the pony and its enemies.

  It did not occur to him that he was not armed until he was halfway to them. Then he felt in his pocket and found his big-bladed knife.

  Taking this out, he sprang open the big
blade and carried it loosely.

  He had stooped and picked up a large stone, which he carried in his hand.

  When he came close enough he hurled the stone at the wolves, and a dull thud, followed by a shrill, dog-like howl of pain, told him that he had countered on the rib plate of one of the nasty brutes. Then he let out a wild yell, and three of the wolves turned and fled.

  Not so the king of the pack.

  He stopped for a moment and stared at Ted with his pale-green eyes. Then, with a long howl of defiance, he sprang again at the pony, which had picked up courage at hearing a human voice and was coming on more briskly.

  Suddenly Ted recognized the pony.

  It was the major's Christmas gift, and Ted once more gave voice to an exultant yell, which only served to increase the fury of the wolf's attack at whatever was fastened to the pony's back.

  Ted knew that Fred Caruthers, as he tried always to call the young brother of the major, would send the pony back some day, and now his faith had been rewarded.

  When he became aware of the identity of the pony he ran faster, and was soon within a few feet of it.

  He naturally expected that the wolf would now beat a retreat, as wolves met singly and in this fashion generally turn tail and split the wind for home when attacked by man.

  But the big wolf simply turned his attention from the pony to the boy, and stood as if carved out of gray granite, his head held high in the air, and his eyes blazing like two pale-green lights.

  "By Jove, I think the brute is going to stand and fight!" said Ted to himself.

  Taking advantage of the situation, the pony trotted past Ted, who scarcely gave it a look, and went on to the corral back of the house.

  "So it's going to be a fight," said Ted, advancing cautiously toward the wolf. "All right, old chap; I'll give you something to think about, if I do not leave you on the ground entirely incapable of thinking. I wish I'd gone after my Winchester now. That would have made it too short, though. Come on, now. All I have is a short knife blade against four sharp fangs, and you are as brave as the devil himself."

  The wolf had not stirred except that his nose was constantly working as he sniffed the air for Ted.