by Fran Striker
Chapter XIII
HELP WEARS A MASK
Penny couldn't turn back without making herself appear ridiculous.Rangoon had already seen her, and was grinning a welcome. He took hishat off with a flourish and revealed black hair, parted low on one sideand plastered down upon his forehead with a carefully nurtured dip. Hishair gleamed from greasy stuff that he used on it.
"Wal," he said with the air of a welcoming host, "this is a downrightsurprise."
Penny halted at the edge of the clearing. It was the first time she hadseen Rangoon at close range, and she found him wholly repugnant. Hisface was pitted from smallpox, scarred from a knife brawl, andgenerally greasy with sweat, but it was his eyes that made him hideous.They were small, bloodshot, and set too close together. He had only oneeyebrow, which extended clear across the ridge of his receding forehead,serving both eyes. The expression in the eyes was one of confidence andinsolence.
Instinctively, Penny felt that she should turn at once and ride backhome. Rangoon advanced on foot, and held a hand toward her.
"I'll help yuh down from the saddle," he said.
"I'm not dismounting, I was just about to turn back."
"I don't reckon you'll want tuh turn back right now," Rangoon said."There's somethin' over here you'll be right glad to have a look at."
"I doubt it." Penny tried to jerk the reins around, but Rangoon washolding them. "Please let go of my reins, Rangoon. I'm going home."
Rangoon shook his head slowly. "I wouldn't," he said, "if I was you. Iunderstand that yer uncle'd be right sore if he found you'd rid up herein spite of all he's said about it."
Penny pulled suddenly and hard, but vainly.
"It ain't no use tryin' tuh pull free jest yet," Rangoon advised her,"because I aim tuh have yuh take jest one look at what I seen. Then yorefree tuh go, if yuh want tuh."
Penny was armed: she wore a small-caliber revolver on a belt around herwaist. She felt that she could use this if necessary. She was more angrythan frightened. She dismounted, ignoring the offered hand of thepock-marked man. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say it didn'tmatter. She noticed that his own horse was tethered to a near-by tree.
"What is it you want to show me?"
"I suppose," Rangoon said slowly, "you're downright disappointed thatit's me yuh seen here instead of yer other friend."
Penny noticed the use of the word "other." It implied that in his mindRangoon had no intention of considering himself in the humble positionof a waddie on her uncle's ranch, but rather as one on an equal socialfooting. Penny made no comment.
"Yuh wonder how I know about him, eh?" Rangoon said. "Wal, there is whatI wanted yuh tuh see." He pointed to the ground.
Penny saw the marks of her small boots clearly showing where she hadstood yesterday. Near by were the prints that Tonto's moccasins hadmade. Penny stared and felt herself growing cold with fury at therealization of what she knew must be in Rangoon's foul mind. Not onlywere the prints there together, but both pairs led toward the lean-to.
"'Tain't as if it was one of the boys from the Basin," the tantalizingvoice behind her said, "but a critter wearin' moccasins! That might meana redskin."
Penny acted instinctively. She whirled quickly and swung with all theforce of her arm. Her gloved hand smacked against the scar on Rangoon'scheek.
Then she burned with embarrassment. Any explanation would be futile. Shewalked quickly toward her horse.
"Not so fast," Rangoon said sharply, grabbing Penny's arm.
"You let go of my arm, or I'll shoot you."
"The hell yuh will!"
In that instant Penny was ready to kill. All reasoning left her. Thehand on her arm brought her fury to white heat. She snatched for hergun, but Rangoon slapped the weapon from her hand.
Rangoon released his grip on her arm, and caught up the reins of herhorse. "Jest git yer senses while I tie up yer hoss, an' we'll talk."
Released, the girl made a dive for her gun, which was on the ground.Rangoon saw the motion, and put his foot on the weapon.
"I'll fix that," he growled. He picked up the gun and emptied it ofcartridges. "Now you c'n have the shootin' iron back," he said, handingit to her while he tossed the ammunition deep among the heavy brush.Penny took her weapon mechanically and put it, empty, in her holster.
Fear gripped her for a moment when she realized that she was practicallyhelpless. To turn and race away on foot would be a futile gesture. Shethought of fainting, but that wouldn't help matters any. She lookeddefiantly at Rangoon.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Now, that's more like it. Yuh needn't be scairt of me; I don't aim tuhhurt yuh none." There was a definite sneer in both the voice andexpression while the man tossed Las Vegas' reins about a tree andknotted them.
"Don't get the notion that you gotta fight fer yer honor an' all thatsort o' tripe like in the readin' books. I don't aim tuh git shot up bymen in the Basin fer makin' passes at you. I like my women without nokillin' fights tied ontuh them."
Penny stubbornly refused to let her face indicate her feelings. Shestood, chin up, listening.
"First of all," Rangoon said, "I hanker tuh know why yuh rid up here."
"It's none of your business."
"Goin' tuh be stubborn again, eh? Now you'll git home a sight quicker ifyuh answer my questions."
"Why are you here?" countered Penny.
"That's easy. I tell, then you tell," Rangoon grinned. "Makin' a sort o'game of it, eh? Wal, yesterday I seen smoke comin' outen the treetops. Iwondered who was campin' here, but couldn't git away from the Basin tuhsee. I rid up tuhday an' found some downright interestin' footprints.Now it's yore turn tuh tell jest what they mean."
"And then you'll let me leave here?"
"Talk first."
"I used to ride up this way before I went to school. I came up yesterdayand found a friendly Indian camped here."
"Why?"
"How do I know?"
"Yuh rid up here twice."
Penny hadn't credited Rangoon with such skill at reading signs.
"Yes, I came up twice."
"The redskin had two horses with him. What about 'em?"
Penny, while hating herself for enduring the man's insolence, felt thatthere was no use trying to evade the truth, which after all washarmless. She told Rangoon about bringing food for the Indian's friend.
When she mentioned the friend, Rangoon showed keen interest.
"Who was that there friend?"
"I don't know."
"Where was he at?"
"I don't know that either. I've told you all I know, Rangoon."
The man shook his head slowly, "'Tain't enough. I got tuh know therest."
Penny was defiant. "I've told you all I know and now I'm starting backfor the Basin. If I'm not there Uncle Bryant will wonder why, and I'lltell him why I was delayed. You ought to know him pretty well, Rangoon.He won't take this sort of behavior from you!"
Rangoon threw back his head and laughed hard at this.
"Yer uncle won't hurt _me_," he said between two roars of laughter.
Penny made a sudden dive for the knotted reins. Again Rangoon wasquicker. He caught her in strong hands.
"Yuh ain't leavin'," he said, "till yuh tell who the redskin's friendis, an' where he's hidin'."
"I tell you I don't know." Penny struggled to free herself.
"I'll wring it out of yuh," Rangoon bellowed as he wrapped his long armscompletely around the girl and nearly cut off her wind in a bearlikegrip.
"L-let m-me g-go," gasped Penny.
Rangoon's grip was tighter. His arms were crushing the slim girl to him,bending her back until it hurt frightfully. His ugly face was close toher, his breath, foul with alcohol and half-rotted teeth, was hot. Pennyfelt nauseated, violently ill.
Contact with the girl made Rangoon reckless. He seemed to forget anyfear he might have had.
His voice was hoarse as he shouted to Penny, "Who is that Indian'sfriend?"
&nbs
p; His repeated question was simply an excuse to hold the girl. His voicewas hoarse. "Who is that Indian's friend?"
"I am!"
It was a new voice, a deeply resonant one that spoke from behindRangoon.
"Stand back," the same voice snapped.
Rangoon swore and whirled as he snatched out his gun with catlike speedand agility. The releasing of the girl, the turning, the drawing, andthe firing, all seemed part of one smooth flowing movement that camefrom instinct.
Wide-eyed, Penny saw Rangoon's gun jump as it lashed flame and smoketoward the newcomer. The gun seemed a thing alive--it leaped free ofRangoon's hand and flew in an arc across the clearing. Rangoon screameda livid curse of pain as he gripped his gun hand.
The stranger, standing ten feet away, had his own weapon back in itsholster. Penny saw that the man was tall; his hat was white and clean,and his face was masked.
Rangoon's hand must have hurt terribly, to judge from his violentcursing. Penny had a dazed, detached feeling as she watched the two men.Rangoon, still cursing, held a hand that stung from the force of thebullet that had knocked his own gun away.
The stranger with the mask stepped forward and slapped Rangoon on theface. The blow did not appear to be hard-swung, but it sent Rangoonsprawling on the ground.
"That's enough of that talk," the stranger said in his crisp butnonetheless pleasant voice. Penny heard another sound, and turned asTonto came from behind the trees.
The masked man spoke again. "You're not hurt badly. My bullet struckyour gun, not your hand."
"You'll pay fer this," Rangoon cried. "I'll see yuh shot up, a little ata time--I'll have my men git yuh, you wait."
The Lone Ranger turned to Tonto. "You'd better gag him, Tonto," he said."It's going to be hard to talk above that noise."
Tonto grinned and leaped astride Rangoon, who made no attempt to risefrom the ground. What the killer said was muffled as Tonto jammed aknotted cloth into his mouth.
"When he's gagged, rope him."
Tonto nodded and his expression said, "Gladly."
Penny watched with interest. She knew she should mount and ride at oncefor the Basin, but there was something about the masked man that heldher, and there were things she wanted to ask. Who was this strangerwhose chin was so well shaped? Why was he masked? She instinctivelyliked him, aside from the help he'd given her. She liked his efficientmanner of handling Rangoon.
Beyond the trees she caught a glimpse of Silver. This, then, was theman to whom she had sent food. The man for whom Tonto had asked help.This was the owner of the magnificent stallion.
"Friend," she thought. "That's who he is. Tonto's friend." Sheremembered the way Tonto had spoken of him, then understood the tone theIndian had used when he said, "My friend."