Steve Yeager

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Steve Yeager Page 7

by William MacLeod Raine


  CHAPTER VII

  STEVE TELLS TOO MUCH TRUTH

  Yeager ducked into the night. From the door through which he had justcome bullets spat aimlessly. He crouched as he ran, dodging in zigzaglittle rushes. Voices pursued him, fierce and threatening. Men pouredfrom the gambling-house as seeds are squirted from a squeezed lemon.

  Into a vacant lot behind a store Steve swerved, finding shelter amongsome empty drygoods boxes. He was none too soon, for as he sank tocover, the rush of feet padded down the sidewalk. Stealthily he crept tothe fence, vaulted it lightly, and found a more secure hiding-place inthe lumber yard beyond. From the top of a pile of two by fours hewatched, every sense alert to catch any warning of danger.

  Soon his pursuers returned in little groups to their interrupted games.Now that the first excitement of the chase was over, few of them wantedto risk a battle with desperate men in the dark. That was what therurales and the rangers were for.

  The cowpuncher slid down cautiously and left the lumber yard by way ofthe alley in the rear. He followed a barb-wire fence which bounded apasture, and at the next corner crossed the street warily into UnitedStates territory. By alleys and back ways his feet took him toJohanson's stable. Noiselessly he crept toward it from the rear. Someone was inside saddling a horse. So much he could gather from thesounds. Was it Phil? Or was it some one getting ready for the pursuit?He moved a step nearer. A stick cracked beneath his foot.

  The man saddling the bronco whirled, revolver in hand. "Who is it?"demanded a tense voice.

  "All right, Phil." Steve moved forward, breathing easier. "Glad you madeit. We'd better light a shuck out of here. They'll stir up the ruralesto get after us, I reckon."

  Already he was busy saddling Four Bits.

  "Do you ... do you think I killed him?" jerked out the boy, a strangledsob of over-strained emotion in his throat.

  "Don't know. He was asking for it, wasn't he?" answered Yeager in amatter-of-fact voice. He did not intend by an expression of sympathy toaid in any breakdown here. That could come later when they had put manymiles between them and Arixico.

  They led their horses out of the stable and swung to the saddles not aminute too soon. A man came running toward them.

  "Hold on," he called. "Just a moment. I'm the sheriff. They say a manhas been killed."

  The fugitives put spurs to their broncos. The animals jumped to acanter. Over his shoulder Steve looked back. The sheriff was standingundecided. Before it penetrated his brain that these were the men hewanted they were out of range.

  For a time they rode in silence except for the clicking of the hoofs.Yeager turned, his hand on the rump of his pony.

  "Don't hear anything of them. We've made a clean getaway, looks like.But they'll keep the wires warm after us--if Mendoza is dead."

  The boy broke down, sobbing. "My God, I couldn't help it. What elsecould I do? He was shooting when I fired."

  "Sure he was, but that won't help you if they take you back to Mexico.My advice is for you to get into a hole and draw it in after you, for afew days anyhow. Where do you live?"

  "At Los Robles--when I'm at home."

  "Then you _are_ Phil Seymour?"

  "Who told you?" flashed the boy.

  "I board with your mother. I'm a rider for the Lunar Company."

  "Then you know Chad Harrison. Chad will get me out of this. He'll fixit."

  "How'll he fix it?" demanded Yeager bluntly. "Back there across the linethey're going to call this by an ugly name--if Mendoza cashes in hischecks. Harrison can't fix murder, can he?"

  A film of hard wariness covered the eyes of the boy as he looked acrossin the darkness at the other man. "He's got friends," was the dry,noncommittal answer that came to the range-rider after a moment'sdistinct pause.

  Yeager asked no more questions. There had been a "No trespass" sign inPhil's manner. But as they rode silently toward Los Robles Steve's mindgroped again with the problem of Harrison's relation to those in poweracross the border. Was the man tied up with old Pasquale? Or was he anagent of the Huerta Government? Just now the Federals had control ofthis part of the border. Did the boy mean that it was among them thatHarrison had friends? It looked that way, and yet--The cowpuncher couldnot get it out of his head that the stolen cattle had been for oldPasquale. Huerta's lieutenants were too wary to stock their pantry fromthe United States in that fashion.

  They rode into Los Robles in the first gray stirrings of dawn, longbefore anybody in the little town was afoot.

  "Where are you going to hide? First place they'll look for you will beat home," suggested Yeager.

  "There's a haystack out in the Lunar pastures. I'll lay low there. TellChad when you see him, and have Ruth fix me up something to eat."

  They parted, each of them to get in what sleep was possible before day.When Steve was awakened by the sound of some one stirring in the nextroom it seemed as though he had been in bed only a few minutes.

  He walked up to the hotel before breakfast and saw Harrison as the actorwas going into the dining-room. The big man stopped in his tracks andshot out a heavy jaw at him.

  "Thought you was giving our eyes a rest for a while," he growled.

  Yeager declined to exchange compliments with him. "There's a friend ofyours on the haystack in the pasture. He wants to see you soon as it'sconvenient."

  The eyes of the pugilist narrowed. "Put a name to him."

  "Phil Seymour."

  "What's he doing here?" demanded Harrison blackly.

  "Perhaps you'd better ask him." Steve turned on his heel and walked backto his boarding-house.

  His arrival at the breakfast table was greeted with a chorus ofexclamations. What was he doing back so soon? Had he got homesick? Hadhe run out of money already?

  He let them worm out of him that he had ridden away and forgotten hispurse and that upon discovering this he had come back for the suppliesof war. They joked him unmercifully, even Daisy,--who was manifestlyincredulous about his explanation,--and he accepted their hilariousrepartee with the proper amount of sheepish resentment.

  After the meal was over he lingered to see Ruth, who had just sat downto eat.

  "Can I see you alone, Miss Ruth?"

  She flashed a quick look at him, doubtful and apprehensive. "In thepergola, almost right away."

  The girl reached the vine-draped entrance of the pergola shortly afterYeager. Manifestly her fears had been growing in the interval since hehad left her.

  "What is it?" And swift on the heels of that, "Is it about Phil?"

  "Yes."

  "He's in trouble ... again?" she breathed.

  He nodded assent. "The boy's out in the pasture. He wants you to sendhim breakfast."

  The dread that was always lying banked in the hearts of herself and hermother found voice. "What has he done now?"

  The range-rider chose his words carefully. "There was some trouble--justacross the border. He had to shoot ... and a man fell."

  Her face mirrored terror. "You mean ... dead?"

  "I don't know," he answered gravely.

  "Tell me all about it, please,--the circumstances, everything."

  "He will tell you himself. I'll just say this--the shooting was forcedon him. He fired in self-defense."

  She wrung her hands. "I knew ... I knew something dreadful would happen.Mr. Harrison promised me--he said he would look out for Phil."

  Steve looked her straight in the eyes. "Harrison's a crook. He's beenusing your love for Phil as a lever. It's up to you and the boy to shakehim off."

  A swift, upblazing anger leaped to her face. "How dare you say that! Howdare you!"

  His blue eyes met her dark, stormy ones quietly and steadily. "I'mtelling you the truth. Can't you see he's been leading Phil intodeviltry? You're afraid of him, afraid of his influence over the boy.That's why you knuckle down to him."

  "I'm not afraid. He's Phil's friend. You're against him just becausehe--he--"

  "Say it, Miss Ruth. Just because he gave me the whaling of my yo
unglife. Nothing to that, nothing a-tall. My system can absorb a lickingwithout bearing a grudge. But he ain't on the level. 'Course you'll hateme for saying it, but some one's got to tell you."

  "It's none of your business. I dare say it was you that was with Philwhen he--when he--got into trouble."

  "Yes."

  "I thought so." A sob swelled up in her throat. "You come here and maketrouble. I do hate you if you want to know."

  With that she turned tempestuously and went flying back to the house.

  Steve smiled ruefully. He did not know much about women, but he had readsomewhere that they were capable of injustice. She had plenty of spirit,anyhow, for all that she looked so demure and shy.

 

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