by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER NINETEEN: BUD RIDES THROUGH CATROCK AND LOSES MARIAN
"You'll have to show me the trail, pardner," said Bud when they weremaking their way cautiously out of town by way of the tin can suburbs."I could figure out the direction all right, and make it by morning; butseeing you grew up here, I'll let you pilot."
"You'll have to tell me where you want to go, first," said Eddie with agood deal of sullenness still in his voice.
"Little Lost." Without intending to do so, Bud put a good deal ofmeaning in his voice.
Eddie did not say anything, but veered to the right, climbing higheron the slope than Bud would have gone. "We can take the high trail," hevolunteered when they stopped to rest the horses. "It takes up over thesummit and down Burroback Valley. It's longer, but the stage roadedges along the Sinks and--it might be rough going, after we get down apiece."
"How about the side-hill trail, through Catrock Peak?"
Eddie turned sharply. In the starlight Bud was watching him, wonderingwhat he was thinking.
"How'd you get next to any side-hill trail?" Eddie asked after a minute."You been over it?"
"I surely have. And I expect to go again, to-nigh! A young fellow aboutyour size is going to act a pilot, and get me to Little Lost as quick aspossible. It'll be daylight at that."
"If you got another day coming, it better be before daylight we getthere," Eddie retorted glumly. H hesitated, turned his horse and led theway down the slope, angling down away from the well-travelled trail overthe summit of Gold Gap.
That hesitation told Bud, without words, how tenuous was his holdupon Eddie. He possessed sufficient imagination to know that his owncarefully discipline past, sheltered from actual contact with evil, hadgiven him little enough by which to measure the soul of a youth likeEddie Collier.
How long Eddie had supped and slept with thieves and murderers, Budcould only guess. From the little that Marian had told him, Eddie'sfather had been one of the gang. At least, she had plainly stated thathe and Lew had been partners--though Collier might have been ranchinginnocently enough, and ignorant of Lew's real nature.
At all events, Eddie was a lad well schooled in inequity such as thewilderness fosters in sturdy fashion. Wide spaces give room for greatvirtues and great wickedness. Bud felt that he was betting large odds onan unknown quantity. He was placing himself literally in the hands of anacknowledged Catrocker, because of the clean gaze of a pair of eyes, thefine curve of the mouth.
For a long time they rode without speech. Eddie in the lead, Budfollowing, alert to every little movement in the sage, every littlesound of the night. That was what we rather naively call "secondnature", habit born of Bud's growing years amongst dangers which everypioneer family knows. Alert he was, yet deeply dreaming; a tenuous dreamtoo sweet to come true, he told himself; a dream which he never dared todream until the cool stars, and the little night wind began to whisperto him that Marian was free from the brute that had owned her. Hescarcely dared think of it yet. Shyly he remembered how he had heldher hand to give her courage while they rode in darkness; her poorwork-roughened little hand, that had been old when he took it first,and had warmed in his clasp. He remembered how he had pressed her handstogether when they parted--why, surely it was longer ago than lastnight!--and had kissed them reverently as he would kiss the fingers of aqueen.
"Hell's too good for Lew Morris," he blurted unexpectedly, the thoughtof Marian's bruised cheek coming like a blow.
"Want to go and tell him so? If you don't yuh better shut up," Eddiewhispered fierce warning. "You needn't think all the Catrockers are deador in jail. They's a few left and they'd kill yuh quicker'n they'd takea drink."
Bud, embarrassed at the emotion behind his statement, rather thanashamed of the remark itself, made no reply.
Much as Eddie desired silence, he himself pulled up and spoke again whenBud had ridden close.
"I guess you come through the Gap," he whispered. "They's a shorter waythan that--Sis don't know it. It's one the bunch uses a lot--if theycatch us--I can save my hide by makin' out I led you into a trap. You'llget yours, anyway. How much sand you got?"
Bud leaned and spat into the darkness. "Not much. Maybe enough to getthrough this scary short-cut of yours."
"You tell the truth when you say scary. It's so darn crazy to go downCatrock Canyon maybe they won't think we'd tackle it. And if they catchus, I'll say I led yuh in--and then--say, I'm kinda bettin' on yourluck. The way you cleaned up on them horses, maybe luck'll stay withyou. And I'll help all I can, honest."
"Fine." Bud reached over and closed his fingers around Eddie's thin,boyish arm. "You didn't tell me yet why the other trail isn't goodenough."
"I heard a sound in the Gap tunnel, that's why. You maybe didn'tknow what it was. I know them echoes to a fare-ye-well. Somebody'sthere--likely posted waiting." He was motionless for a space, listening.
"Get off-easy. Take off your spurs." Eddie was down, whispering eagerlyto Bud. "There's a draft of air from the blow-holes that comes this way.Sound comes outa there a lot easier than it goes in. Sis and I foundthat out. Lead your horse--if they jump us, give him a lick with thequirt and hide in the brush."
Like Indians the two made their way down a rambling slope not far fromwhere Marian had guided Bud. To-night, however, Eddie led the way to theright instead of the left, which seemed to Bud a direction that wouldbring them down Oldman creek, that dry river bed, and finally, perhaps,to the race track.
Eddie never did explain just how he made his way through a maze ofwater-cut pillars and heaps of sandstone so bewildering that Budafterward swore that in spite of the fact that he was leading Sunfish,he frequently found himself at that patient animal's tail, where theywere doubled around some freakish pillar. Frequently Eddie stopped andpeered past his horse to make sure that Bud had not lost the trail.And finally, because he was no doubt worried over that possibility, heknotted his rope to his saddle horn, brought back a length that reacheda full pace behind the tail of the horse, and placed the end in Bud'shand.
"If yuh lose me you're a goner," he whispered. "So hang onto that, nomatter what comes. And don't yuh speak to me. This is hell's corral andwe're walking the top trail right now." He made sure that Bud had theloop in his hand, then slipped back past his horse and went on, walkingmore quickly.
Bud admitted afterwards that he was perfectly willing to be led like atame squirrel around the top of "hell's corral", whatever that was. Allthat Bud saw was an intricate assembly of those terrific pillars, whoseheight he did not know, since he had no time to glance up and estimatethe distance. There was no method, no channel worn through in anythingthat could be called a line. Whatever primeval torrent had honeycombedthe ledge had left it so before ever its waters had formed a straightpassage through. How Eddie knew the way he could only conjecture,remembering how he himself had ridden devious trails down on theTomahawk range when he was a boy. It rather hurt his pride to realizethat never had he seen anything approaching this madman's trail.
Without warning they plunged into darkness again. Darkness so blackthat Bud knew they had entered another of those mysterious, subterraneanpassages which had created such names as abounded in the country:the "Sinks", "Little Lost", and Sunk River itself which disappearedmysteriously. He was beginning to wonder with a grim kind of humor if hehimself was not about to follow the example of the rivers and disappear,when the soft padding of their footfalls blurred under the whistling ofwind. Fine particles of sand stung him, a blast full against himhalted him for a second. But the rope pulled steadily and he went on,half-dragged into starlight again.
They were in a canyon; deep, sombre in its night shadows, its width madeknown to him by the strip of starlight overhead. Directly before them,not more than a hundred yards, a light shone through a window.
The rope slackened in his hands, and Eddie slipped back to him shiveringa little as Bud discovered when he laid a hand on his arm.
"I guess I better tie yuh--but it won't be so yuh can't shoot. Get on,and le
t me tie your feet into the stirrups. I--I guess maybe we can getpast, all right--I'll try--I want to go and take that job you said you'dgive me!"
"What's the matter, son? Is that where the Catrockers hang out?" Budswung into the saddle. "I trust you, kid. You're her brother."
"I--I want to live like Sis wants me to. But I've got to tie yuh, Mr.Birnie, and that looks--But they'd k--you don't know how they killtraitors. I saw one--" He leaned against Bud's leg, one hand reaching upto the saddle horn and gripping it in a passing frenzy. "If you say so,"he whispered rapidly, "we'll sneak up and shoot 'em through the windowbefore they get a chance--"
Bud reached out his hand and patted Eddie on the shoulder. "That job ofyours don't call for any killing we can avoid," he said. "Go ahead andtie me. No use of wasting lead on two men when one will do. It's allright. I trust you, pardner."
Eddie's shoulders stiffened. He stood up, looked toward the light andgripped Bud's hand. "I thought they'd be asleep--what was home,"he said. "We got to ride past the cabin to get out through anotherwater-wash. But you take your coat and tie your horse's feet, and I'lltie mine. I--can't tie you, Mr. Birnie. We'll chance it together."
Bud did not say anything at all, for which Eddie seemed grateful. Theymuffled eight hoofs, rode across the canyon's bottom and passed thecabin so closely that the light of a smoky lantern on a table wasplainly visible to Bud, as was the shaggy profile of a man who sat withhis arms folded, glowering over a pipe. He heard nothing. Bud haltedSunfish and looked again to make sure, while Eddie beckoned frantically.They went on undisturbed--the Catrockers kept no dogs.
They passed a couple of corrals, rode over springy sod where Bud dimlydiscerned hay stubble. Eddie let down a set of bars, replaced themcarefully, and they crossed another meadow. It struck Bud that theCatrockers were fairly well entrenched in their canyon, with plenty ofhorse feed at least.
They followed a twisting trail along the canyon's wall, rode intoanother pit of darkness, came out into a sandy stretch that seemedhazily familiar to Bud. They crossed this, dove into the bushesfollowing a dim trail, and in ten minutes Eddie's horse backed suddenlyagainst Sunfish's nose. Bud stood in his stirrups, reins held firmly inhis left hand, and in his right his six-shooter with the hammer lifted,ready to snap down.
A tall figure stepped away from the peaked rocks and paused at Bud'sside.
"I been waiting for Marian," he said bluntly. "You know anything abouther?"
"She turned back last night after she had shown me the way." Bud'sthroat went dry. "Did they miss her?" He leaned aggressively.
"Not till breakfast time, they didn't. I was waiting here, most allnight--except right after you folks left. She wasn't missed, and I neverflagged her--and she ain't showed up yet!"
Bud sat there stunned, trying to think what might have happened. Thosedark passages through the mountains--the ledge-- "Ed, you know thattrail she took me over? She was coming back that way. She could getlost--"
"No she couldn't--not Sis. If her horse didn't act the fool--what horsewas it she rode?" Ed turned to Jerry as if he would know.
"Boise," Bud spoke quickly, as though seconds were precious. "She saidhe knew the way."
"He sure ought to," Eddie replied emphatically. "Boise belongs to Sis,by rights. The mare got killed and Dad gave him to Sis when he was asuckin' colt, and Sis raised him on cow's milk and broke him herself.She rode him all over. Lew took and sold him to Dave, and gambled themoney, and Sis never signed no bill of sale. They couldn't make her.Sis has got spunk, once you stir her up. She'll tackle anything. She'salways claimed Boise is hers. Boise knows the Gap like a book. Siscouldn't get off the trail if she rode him."
"Something happened, then," Bud muttered stubbornly. "Four men camethrough behind us, and we waited out in the dark to let them pass. Thenshe sent me down to the creek-bottom, and she turned back. If they gother--" He turned Sunfish in the narrow brush trail. "She's hurt, or theygot her--I'm going back!" he said grimly.
"Hell! you can't do any good alone," Eddie protested, coming after him."We'll go look for her, Mr. Birnie, but we've got to have something sowe can see. If Jerry could dig up a couple of lanterns--"
"You wait. I'm coming along," Jerry called guardedly. "I'll bringlanterns."
To Bud that time of waiting was torment. He had faced danger and tragedysince he could toddle, and fear had never overridden the titillatingsense of adventure. But then the danger had been for himself. Now terrorconjured pictures whose horror set him trembling. Twenty-four hours andmore had passed since he had kissed Marian's hand and let her go--towhat? The inky blackness of those tunnelled caverns in the Gapconfronted his mind like a nightmare. He could not speak of it--he darednot think of it, and yet he must.
Jerry came on horseback, with three unlighted lanterns held in a clusterby their wire handles. Eddie immediately urged his horse into the brushyedge of the trail so that he might pass Bud and take the lead. "You suremade quick time," he remarked approvingly to Jerry.
"I raided Dave's cache of whiskey or I'd have been here quicker," Jerryexplained. "We might need some."
Bud gritted his teeth. "Ride, why don't yuh?" he urged Eddie harshly."What the hell ails that horse of yours? You got him hobbled?"
Eddie glanced back over his bobbing shoulder as his horse trotted alongthe blind trail through the brush. "This here ain't no race track," heexpostulated. "We'll make it quicker without no broken legs."
There was justice in his protest and Bud said nothing. But Sunfish'shead bumped the tail of Eddie's horse many times during that ride. Oncein the Gap, with a lighted lantern in his rein hand and his six-shooterin the other--because it was ticklish riding, in there with lightsrevealing them to anyone who might be coming through--he was content togo slowly, peering this way and that as he rode.
Once Eddie halted and turned to speak to them. "I know Boise wouldn'tleave the trail. If Sis had to duck off and hide from somebody, he'dcome back to the trail. Loose, he'd do that. Sis and I used to explorearound in here just for fun, and kept it for our secret till Lew foundout. She always rode Boise. I'm dead sure he'd bring her out all right."
"She hasn't come out--yet. Go on," said Bud, and Eddie rode forwardobediently.
Three hours it took them to search the various passages where Eddiethought it possible that Marian had turned aside. Bud saw that the trailthrough was safe as any such trail could be, and he wondered at thenerve and initiative of the girl and the boy who had explored the placeand found where certain queer twists and turns would lead. Afterwards helearned that Marian was twelve and Eddie ten when first they had hiddenthere from Indians, and they had been five years in finding where everypassage led. Also, in daytime the place was not so fearsome, sincesunlight slanted down into many a passageway through the blow-holes highabove.
"She ain't here. I knew she wasn't," Eddie announced when the finaltunnel let them into the graying light of dawn beyond the Peak.
"In that case--" Bud glanced from him to Jerry, who was blowing out hislantern.
Jerry let down the globe carefully, at the same time glancing soberlyat Bud. "The kid knows better than we do what would happen if Lew met upwith her and Boise."
Eddie shook his head miserably, his eyes fixed helpessly upon Bud. "Lewnever, Mr. Birnie. I was with him every minute from dark till--till thecashier, shot him. We come up the way I took you through the canyon. Lewnever knew she was gone any more than I did."
Jerry bit his lip. "Kid, what if the gang run acrost her, KNOWING Lewwas dead?" he grated. "And her on Boise? The word's out that Bud stoleBoise. Dave and the boys rode out to round him up--and they ain't doneit, so they're still riding--we'll hope. Kid, you know damn well yourgang would double-cross Dave in a minute, now Lew's killed. If they gothold of the horse, do yuh think they'd turn him over to Dave?"
"No, you bet your life they wouldn't!" Eddie retorted.
"And what about HER?" Bud cut in with ominous calm. "She's your sister,kid. Would you be worried if you knew they had HER and the horse?"<
br />
Eddie gulped and looked away. "They wouldn't hurt her unless they knew'tLew was dead," he said. "And them that went to Crater was killed orjailed, so--" He hesitated. "It looked to me like Anse was setting upwaiting for the bunch to get back from Crater. He--he's always jumpywhen they go off and stay, and it'd be just like him to set there andwait till daylight. It looks to me, Mr. Birnie, like him and--and therest don't know yet that the Crater job was a fizzle. They wouldn'tthink of such a thing as taking Sis, or Boise either, unless they knewLew was dead."
"Are you sure of that?" Bud had him in a grip that widened the boy'seyes with something approaching fear.
"Yes sir, Mr. Birnie, I'm sure. What didn't go to Crater stayed incamp--or was gone on some other trip. No, I'm sure!" He jerked away withsudden indignation at Bud's disbelief. "Say! Do you think I'm bad enoughto let my sister get into trouble with the Catrockers? I know they nevergot her. More'n likely it's Dave."
"Dave went up Burroback Valley," Jerry stated flatly. "Him and the boyswasn't on this side the ridge. They had it sized up that Bud might gofrom Crater straight across into Black Rim, and they rode up to catchhim as he comes back across." Jerry grinned a little. "They wanted thatmoney you peeled off the crowd Sunday, Bud. They was willing you shouldget to Crater and cash them checks before they overhauled yuh and strungyuh up."
"You don't suppose they'd hurt Marian if they found her with the horse?She might have followed along to Crater--"
"She never," Eddie contradicted. And Jerry declared in the same breath,"She'd be too much afraid of Lew. No, if they found her with the horsethey'd take him away from her and send her back on another one to dothe kitchen work," he conjectured with some contempt. "If they found YOUwithout the horse--well--men have been hung on suspicion, Bud. Money'ssomething everybody wants, and there ain't a man in the valley but whathas figured your winnings down to the last two-bit piece. It's just arunnin' match now to see what bunch gets to yuh first."
"Oh, the money! I'd give the whole of it to anyone that would tell meMarian 's safe," Bud cried unguardedly in his misery. Whereat Jerry andEd looked at each other queerly.