[Frontispiece: Calumet remained unshaken. ]

THE BOSS OF THE LAZY Y

BY

CHARLES ALDEN SELTZER

AUTHOR OF

THE COMING OF THE LAW, THE TWO-GUN MAN, ETC. 

ILLUSTRATIONS BY

J. ALLEN ST. JOHN

NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS

Copyright

A. C. McClurg & Co. 

1915

Published April, 1915

Copyrighted in Great Britain

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. The Home-Coming of Calumet Marston II. Betty Meets the Heir III. Calumet's Guardian IV. Calumet Plays Betty's Game V. The First Lesson VI. "Bob" VII. A Page from the Past VIII. The Toltec Idol IX. Responsibility X. New Acquaintances XI. Progress XII. A Peace Offering XIII. Suspicion XIV. Jealousy XV. A Meeting in the Red Dog XVI. The Ambush XVII. More Progress XVIII. Another Peace Offering XIX. A Tragedy in the Timber Grove XX. Betty Talks Frankly XXI. His Father's Friend XXII. Neal Taggart Visits XXIII. For the Altars of His Tribe

ILLUSTRATIONS

Calumet remained unshaken . . . . . . _Frontispiece_

"Get up, or I will shoot you like a dog!" she said. 

Her appearance was now in the nature of a transformation. 

Calumet stepped in. 

THE BOSS OF THE LAZY Y

CHAPTER I

THE HOME-COMING OF CALUMET MARSTON

Shuffling down the long slope, its tired legs moving automatically, thedrooping pony swerved a little and then came to a halt, trembling withfright. Startled out of his unpleasant ruminations, his lips tensingover his teeth in a savage snarl, Calumet Marston swayed uncertainly inthe saddle, caught himself, crouched, and swung a heavy pistol to amenacing poise. 

For an instant he hesitated, searching the immediate vicinity withrapid, intolerant glances. When his gaze finally focused on the objectwhich had frightened his pony, he showed no surprise. Many timesduring the past two days had this incident occurred, and at no time hadCalumet allowed the pony to follow its inclination to bolt or swervefrom the trail. He held it steady now, pulling with a vicious hand onthe reins. 

Ten feet in front of the pony and squarely in the center of the trail agigantic diamond-back rattler swayed and warned, its venomous, lidlesseyes gleaming with hate. Calumet's snarl deepened, he dug a spur intothe pony's left flank, and pulled sharply on the left rein. The ponylunged, swerved, and presented its right shoulder to the swayingreptile, its flesh quivering from excitement. Then the heavy revolverin Calumet's hand roared spitefully, there was a sudden threshing inthe dust of the trail, and the huge rattler shuddered into a sinuous, twisting heap. For an instant Calumet watched it, and then, seeingthat the wound he had inflicted was not mortal, he urged the ponyforward and, leaning over a little, sent two more bullets into the bodyof the snake, severing its head from its body. 

"Man's size, " declared Calumet, his snarl relaxing. He sat erect andspoke to the pony:

"Get along, you damned fool! Scared of a side-winder!"

Relieved, deflating its lungs with a tremulous heave, and unmindful ofCalumet's scorn, the pony gingerly returned to the trail. In thirtyseconds it had resumed its drooping shuffle, in thirty seconds Calumethad returned to his unpleasant ruminations. 

A mile up in the shimmering white of the desert sky an eagle swam onslow wing, shaping his winding course toward the timber clump thatfringed a river. Besides the eagle, the pony, and Calumet, no livingthing stirred in the desert or above it. In the shade of a rock, perhaps, lurked a lizard, in the filmy mesquite that drooped and curledin the stifling heat slid a rattler, in the shelter of the sagebrushthe sage hen might have nestled her eggs in the hot sand. But thesewere fixtures. Calumet, his pony, and the eagle, were not. The eaglewas Mexican; it had swung its mile-wide circles many times to reach thepoint above the timber clump; it was migratory and alert with thehunger lust. 

Calumet watched it with eyes that glowed bitterly and balefully. Halfan hour later, when he reached the river and the pony clattered downthe rocky slope, plunged its head deeply into the stream and drank witheager, silent draughts, Calumet swung himself crossways in the saddle, fumbled for a moment at his slicker, and drew out a battered tin cup. Leaning over, he filled the cup with water, tilted his head back anddrank. The blur in the white sky caught his gaze and held it. Hiseyes mocked, his lips snarled. 

"You damned greaser sneak!" he said. "Followed me fifty miles!" Aflash of race hatred glinted his eyes. "I wouldn't let no damnedgreaser eagle get me, anyway!"

The pony had drunk its fill. Calumet returned the tin cup to theslicker and swung back into the saddle. Refreshed, the pony took theopposite slope with a rush, emerging from the river upon a high plateaustudded with fir balsam and pine. Bringing the pony to a halt, Calumetturned in the saddle and looked somberly behind him. 

For two days he had been fighting the desert, and now it lay in hisrear, a mystic, dun-colored land of hot sandy waste and silence;brooding, menacing, holding out its threat of death--a vast naturalbasin breathing and pulsing with mystery, rimmed by remote mountainsthat seemed tenuous and thin behind the ever-changing misty films thatspread from horizon to horizon. 

The expression of Calumet's face was as hard and inscrutable as thedesert itself; the latter's filmy haze did not more surely shut out themysteries behind it than did Calumet's expression veil the emotions ofhis heart. He turned from the desert to face the plateau, from whoseedge dropped a wide, tawny valley, luxuriant with bunch grass--a goldenbrown sweep that nestled between some hills, inviting, alluring. Sosharp was the contrast between the desert and the valley, and so potentwas its appeal to him, that the hard calm of his face threatened tosoften. It was as though he had ridden out of a desolate, ages-oldworld where death mocked at life, into a new one in which life reignedsupreme. 

There was no change in Calumet's expression, however, though below him, spreading and dipping away into the interminable distance, slumberingin the glare of the afternoon sun, lay the land of his youth. Heremembered it well and he sat for a long time looking at it, searchingout familiar spots, reviving incidents with which those spots had beenconnected. During the days of his exile he had forgotten, but now itall came back to him; his brain was illumined and memories moved in itin orderly array--like a vast army passing in review. And he sat thereon his pony, singling out the more important personages of thearmy--the officers, the guiding spirits of the invisible columns. 

Five miles into the distance, at a point where the river doubledsharply, rose the roofs of several ranch buildings--his father's ranch, the Lazy Y. Upon the buildings Calumet's army of memories descendedand he forgot the desert, the long ride, the bleak days of his exile, as he yielded to solemn introspection. 

Yet, even now, the expression of his face did not change. A littlelonger he scanned the valley and then the army of memories marched outof his vision and he took up the reins and sent the pony forward. Thelittle animal tossed its head impatiently, perhaps scenting food andcompanionship, but Calumet's heavy hand on the reins discouraged haste. 

For Calumet was in no hurry. He had not yet worked out an explanationfor the strange whim that had sent him home after an absence ofthirteen years and he wanted time to study over it. His lips took on asatiric curl as he meditated, riding slowly down into the valley. Itwas inexplicable, mysterious, this notion of his to return to a fatherwho had never taken any interest in him. He could not account for it. He had not been sent for, he had not sent word; he did not know why hehad come. He had been in the Durango country when the mood had struckhim, and without waiting to debate the wisdom of the move he had riddenin to headquarters, secured his time, and--well, here he was. He hadpondered much in an effort to account for the whim, carefullyconsidering all its phases, and he was still uncertain. 

He knew he would receive no welcome; he knew he was not wanted. Had hefelt a longing to revisit the old place? Perhaps it had been that. And yet, perhaps not, for he was here now, looking at it, living overthe life of his youth, riding again through the long bunch grass, overthe barren alkali flats, roaming again in the timber that fringed theriver--going over it all again and nothing stirred in his heart--nopleasure, no joy, no satisfaction, no emotion whatever. If he felt anycuriosity he was entirely unconscious of it; it was dormant if itexisted at all. As he was able to consider her dispassionately he knewthat he had not come to look at his mother's grave. She had beennothing to him, his heart did not beat a bit faster when he thought ofher. 

Then, why had he come? He did not know or care. Had he been apsychologist he might have attempted to frame reasons, building themfrom foundations of high-sounding phrases, but he was a materialist, and the science of mental phenomena had no place in his brain. Something had impelled him to come and here he was, and that was reasonenough for him. And because he had no motive in coming he was takinghis time. He figured on reaching the Lazy Y about dusk. He would seehis father, perhaps quarrel with him, and then he would ride away, toreturn no more. Strange as it may seem, the prospect of a quarrel withhis father brought him a thrill of joy, the first emotion he had feltsince beginning his homeward journey. 

When he reached the bottom of the valley he urged his pony on a littleway, pulling it to a halt on the flat, rock-strewn top of an isolatedexcrescence of earth surrounded by a sea of sagebrush, dried bunchgrass, and sand. Dismounting he stretched his legs to disperse thesaddle weariness. He stifled a yawn, lazily plunged a hand into apocket of his trousers, produced tobacco and paper and rolled acigarette. Lighting it he puffed slowly and deeply at it, exhaling thesmoke lingeringly through his nostrils. Then he sat down on a rock, leaned an elbow in the sand, pulled his hat brim well down over hiseyes and with the cigarette held loosely between his lips, gave himselfover to retrospection. 

It all came to him, as he sat there on the rock, his gaze on thebasking valley, his thoughts centered on that youth which had been anabiding nightmare. The question was: What influence had made him ahardened, embittered, merciless demon of a man whose passionsthreatened always to wash away the dam of his self-control? A manwhose evil nature caused other men to shun him; a man who scoffed atvirtue; who saw no good in anything?

Not once during his voluntary exile had he applied his mind to thesubject in the hope of stumbling on a solution. To be sure, he had hada slight glimmering of the truth; he had realized in a sort of vague, general way that he had not been treated fairly at home, but he had notbeen able to provide a definite and final explanation, perhaps becausehe had never considered it necessary. But his return home, the reviewof the army of memories, had brought him a solution--the solution. Andhe saw its ruthless logic. 

He was what his parents had made him. Without being able to think itout in scientific terms he was able to expound the why of like. It wasone of the inexorable rules of heredity. To his parents he owedeverything and nothing. He reflected on this paradox until it becameperfectly clear to him. They--his parents--had given him life, andthat was all. He owed them thanks for that, or he would have owed themthanks if he considered his life to be worth anything. But he owedthem nothing because they had spoiled the life they had given him, hadspoiled it by depriving him of everything he had a right to expect fromthem--love, sympathy, decent treatment. They had given him instead, blows, kicks, curses, hatred. Hatred!

Yes, they had hated him; they had told him that; he was convinced ofit. The reason for their hatred had always been a mystery to him and, for all he cared, would remain a mystery. 

When he was fifteen his mother died. On the day when the neighborslaid her away in a quiet spot at the edge of the wood near the far endof the corral fence, he stood beside her body as it lay in the roughpine box which some of them had knocked together, looking at her forthe last time. He was neither glad or sorry; he felt no emotionwhatever. When one of the neighbors spoke to him, asking him if hefelt no grief, he cursed and stormed out of the house. Later, afterthe neighbors departed, his father came upon him in the stable and beathim unmercifully. He came, dry-eyed, through the ordeal, raginginwardly, but silent. And that night, after his father had gone tobed, he stole stealthily out of the house, threw a saddle and bridle onhis favorite pony and rode away. Such had been his youth. 

That had been thirteen years ago. He was twenty-eight now and hadchanged a little--for the worse. During the days of his exile he hadmade no friends. He had found much experience, he had becomeself-reliant, sophisticated. There was about him an atmosphere of coldpreparedness that discouraged encroachment on his privacy. Men did nottrifle with him, because they feared him. Around Durango, where he hadridden for the Bar S outfit, it was known that he possessed Sataniccleverness with a six-shooter. 

But if he was rapid with his weapons he made no boast of it. He wasquiet in manner, unobtrusive. He was taciturn also, for he had beentaught the value of silence by his parents, though in his narrowedglances men had been made to see a suggestion of action that was moreeloquent than speech. He was a slumbering volcano of passion thatmight at any time become active and destroying. 

Gazing now from under the brim of his hat at the desolate, silent worldthat swept away from the base of the hill on whose crest he sat, hislips curved with a slow, bitter sneer. During the time he had been onthe hill he had lived over his life and he saw its bleakness, itsemptiness, its mystery. This was his country. He had been born here;he had passed days, months, years, in this valley. He knew it, andhated it. He sneered as his gaze went out of the valley and sought thevast stretches of the flaming desert. He knew the desert, too; it hadnot changed. Riding through it yesterday and the day before he hadbeen impressed with the somber grimness of it all, as he had beenimpressed many times before when watching it from this very hill. Butit was no more somber than his own life had been; its brooding silencewas no deeper than that which dwelt in his own heart; he reflected itsspirit, its mystery was his. His life had been like--like thestretching waste of sky that yawned above the desert, as cold, hard, and unsympathetic. 

He saw a shadow; looked upward to see the Mexican eagle winging itsslow way overhead, and the sneer on his lips grew. It was a prophecy, perhaps. At least the sight of the bird gave him an opportunity todraw a swift and bitter comparison. He was like the eagle. Both heand the bird he detested were beset with a constitutionalpredisposition to rend and destroy. There was this difference betweenthem: The bird feasted on carrion, while he spent his life stiflinggenerous impulses and tearing from his heart the noble ideals which hislatent manhood persisted in erecting. 

For two hours he sat on the hill, watching. He saw the sun sink slowlytoward the remote mountains, saw it hang a golden rim on a barren peak;watched the shadows steal out over the foothills and stretch swiftlyover the valley toward him. Mystery seemed to awaken and fill theworld. The sky blazed with color--orange and gold and violet; a veilof rose and amethyst descended and stretched to the horizons, enveloping the mountains in a misty haze; purple shafts shot fromdistant canyons, mingling with the brighter colors--gleaming, shimmering, ever-changing. Over the desert the colors were even morewonderful, the mystery deeper, the lure more appealing. But Calumetmade a grimace at it all, it seemed to mock him. 

He rose from the rock, mounted his pony, and rode slowly down into thevalley toward the Lazy Y ranch buildings. 

He had been so busy with his thoughts that he had not noticed theabsence of cattle in the valley--the valley had been a grazing groundfor the Lazy Y stock during the days of his youth--and now, with astart, he noted it and halted his pony after reaching the level to lookabout him. 

There was no sign of any cattle. But he reflected that perhaps a newrange had been opened. Thirteen years is a long time, and many changescould have come during his absence. 

He was about to urge his pony on again, when some impulse moved him toturn in the saddle and glance at the hill he had just vacated. Atabout the spot where he had sat--perhaps two hundred yards distant--hesaw a man on a horse, sitting motionless in the saddle, looking at him. 

Calumet wheeled his own pony and faced the man. The vari-colored glowfrom the distant mountains fell full upon the horseman, and with theinstinct for attention to detail which had become habitual withCalumet, he noted that the rider was a big man; that he wore acream-colored Stetson and a scarlet neckerchief. Even at thatdistance, so clear was the light, Calumet caught a vague impression ofhis features--his nose, especially, which was big, hawk-like. 

Calumet yielded to a sudden wonder over the rider's appearance on thehill. He had not seen him; had not heard him before. Still, that wasnot strange, for he had become so absorbed in his thoughts while on thehill that he had paid very little attention to his surroundings exceptto associate them with his past. 

The man, evidently, was a cowpuncher in the employ of his father; hadprobably seen him from the level of the valley and had ridden to thecrest of the hill out of curiosity. 

Another impulse moved Calumet. He decided to have a talk with the manin order to learn, if possible, something of the life his father hadled during his absence. He kicked his pony in the ribs and rode towardthe man, the animal traveling at a slow chop-trot. 

For a moment the man watched him, still motionless. Then, as Calumetcontinued to approach him the man wheeled his horse and sent itclattering down the opposite side of the hill. 

Calumet sneered, surprised, for the instant, at the man's action. 

"Shy cuss, " he said, grinning contemptuously. In the next instant, however, he yielded to a quick rage and sent his pony scurrying up theslope toward the crest of the hill. 

When he reached the top the man was on the level, racing across abarren alkali flat at a speed which indicated that he was afflictedwith something more than shyness. 

Calumet halted on the crest of the hill and waved a hand derisively atthe man, who was looking back over his shoulder as he rode. 

"Slope, you locoed son-of-a-gun!" he yelled; "I didn't want to talk toyou, anyway!"

The rider's answer was a strange one. He brought his horse to adizzying stop, wheeled, drew a rifle from his saddle holster, raised itto his shoulder and took a snap shot at Calumet. 

The latter, however, had observed the hostile movement, and had thrownhimself out of the saddle. He struck the hard sand of the hill on allfours and stretched out flat, his face to the ground. He heard thebullet sing futilely past him; heard the sharp crack of the rifle, andpeered down to see the man again running his horse across the level. 

Calumet drew his pistol, but saw that the distance was too great foreffective shooting, and savagely jammed the weapon back into theholster. He was in a black rage, but was aware of the absurdity ofattempting to wage a battle in which the advantage lay entirely withthe rifle, and so, with a grim smile on his face, he watched theprogress of the man as he rode through the long grass and across thebarren stretches of the level toward the hills that rimmed the southernhorizon. 

Promising himself that he would make a special effort to return theshot, Calumet finally wheeled his pony and rode down the hill towardthe Lazy Y. 

CHAPTER II

BETTY MEETS THE HEIR

An emotion which he did not trouble himself to define impelled Calumetto wheel his pony when he reached the far end of the corral fence andride into the cottonwood where, thirteen years before, he had seen thelast of his mother. No emotion moved him as he rode toward it, butwhen he came upon the grave he experienced a savage satisfactionbecause it had been sadly neglected. There was no headboard to markthe spot, no familiar mound of earth; only a sunken stretch, a pitifullittle patch of sand, with a few weeds thrusting up out of it, noddingto the slight breeze and casting grotesque shadows in the sombertwilight. 

Calumet was not surprised. It was all as he had pictured it duringthose brief moments when he had allowed his mind to dwell on his past;its condition vindicated his previous conviction that his father wouldneglect it. Therefore, his satisfaction was not in finding the graveas it was, but in the knowledge that he had not misjudged his father. And though he had not loved his mother, the condition of the graveserved to infuse him with a newer and more bitter hatred for thesurviving parent. A deep rage and contempt slumbered within him as heurged his pony out of the wood toward the ranchhouse. 

He was still in no hurry, and soon after leaving the edge of the woodhe halted his pony and sat loosely in the saddle, gazing about him. When he observed that he might be seen from the ranchhouse he moveddeep into the cottonwood and there, screened behind some nondescriptbrush, continued his examination. 

The place was in a state of dilapidation, of approaching ruin. Desolation had set a heavy hand over it all. The buildings no moreresembled those he had known than daylight resembles darkness. Thestable, wherein he had received his last thrashing from his father, hadsagged to one side, its roof seeming to bow to him in derision; thecorral fence was down in several places, its rails in a state of decay, and within, two gaunt ponies drooped, seeming to lack the energynecessary to move them to take advantage of the opportunity for freedomso close at hand. They appeared to watch Calumet incuriously, apathetically. 

Calumet felt strangely jubilant. A vindictive satisfaction and delightforced the blood through his veins a little faster, for, judging fromthe appearance of the buildings, misfortune must have descended uponhis father. The thought brought a great peace to his soul; he evensmiled when he saw that the bunkhouse, which had sheltered the manycowboys whom he had hated, seemed ready to topple to destruction. Thesmile grew when his gaze went to the windmill, to see its long armsmotionless in the breeze, indicating its uselessness. 

When he had concluded his examination he did not ride boldly toward theranchhouse, but made a wide circuit through the wood, for he wanted tocome upon his father in his own way and in his own time; wanted tosurprise him. There was no use of turning his pony into the corral, for the animal had more life in him than the two forlorn beasts thatwere already there and would not stay in the corral when a breach inthe fence offered freedom. Therefore, when Calumet reached the edge ofthe wood near the front of the house he dismounted and tied his pony toa tree. 

A moment later he stood at the front door, filled with satisfaction tofind it unbarred. Swinging it slowly open he entered, silently closingit behind him. He stood, a hand on the fastenings, gazing about him. He was in the room which his father had always used as an office. Ashe peered about in the gray dusk that had fallen, distinguishingfamiliar articles of furniture--a roll-top desk, several chairs, asofa, some cheap prints on the wall--a nameless emotion smote him andhis face paled a little, his jaws locked, his hands clenched. Foragain the army of memories was passing in review. 

For a long time he stood at the door. Then he left it and walked tothe desk, placing a hand on its top and hesitating. Doubtless hisfather was in another part of the house, possibly eating supper. Hedecided not to bother him at this moment and seated himself in a chairbefore the desk. There was plenty of time. His father would be asdisagreeably surprised to meet him five minutes from now as he wouldwere he to stalk into his presence at this moment. 

Once in the chair, Calumet realized that he was tired, and he leanedback luxuriously, stretching his legs. The five minutes to which hehad limited himself grew to ten and he still sat motionless, lookingout of the window at the deepening dusk. The shadows in the wood nearthe house grew darker, and to Calumet's ears came the long-drawn, plaintive whine of a coyote, the croaking of frogs from the river, thehoot of an owl nearby. Other noises of the night reached him, but hedid not hear them, for he had become lost in meditation. 

What a home-coming!

Bitterness settled into the marrow of his bones. Here was ruin, desolation, darkness, for the returning prodigal. These were thethings his father had given him. A murderous rage seized him, a lustto rend and destroy, and he sat erect in his chair, his muscles tensed, his blood rioting, his brain reeling. Had his father appeared beforehim at this minute it would have gone hard with him. He fought down animpulse to go in search of him and presently the mood passed, hismuscles relaxed, and he stretched out again in the chair. 

Producing tobacco and paper he rolled a cigarette, noting with asatisfied smile the steadiness of his hand. Once he had overheard aman telling another man that Calumet Marston had no nerves. He knewthat; had known it. He knew also that this faculty of control made hispassions more dangerous. But he reveled in his passions, thepossession of them filled him with an ironic satisfaction--they werehis heritage. 

While he sat in the chair the blackness of the night enveloped him. Heheard no sound from the other part of the house and he finally decidedto find and confront his father. He stood erect, lit the cigarette andthrew the match from him, accidentally striking his hand against theback of the chair on which he had been sitting. Yielding to a sudden, vicious anger, he kicked the chair out of the way, so that it slidalong the rough floor a little distance and overturned with a crash. Calumet cursed. He was minded to take the chair up and hurl it downagain, so vengeful was the temper he was in, but his second sober senseurged upon him the futility of attacking inanimate things and hecontented himself with snarling at it. He stood silent for a moment, ahope in his heart that his father, alarmed over the sudden commotion, would come to investigate, and a wave of sardonic satisfaction sweptover him when he finally heard a faint sound--a footstep in thedistance. 

His father had heard and was coming!

Calumet stood near the center of the room, undecided whether to makehis presence known at once or to secrete himself and allow his fatherto search for him. He finally decided to stand where he was and lethis father come upon him there, and he stood erect, puffing rapidly atthe cigarette, which glowed like a firefly in the darkness. 

The steps came nearer and Calumet heard a slight creak--the sound madeby the dining-room door as it swung slowly open. A faint light filledthe opening thus made in the doorway, and Calumet knew that his fatherhad come without a light--that the faint glow came from a distance, possibly from the kitchen, just beyond the dining-room. The lightedspace in the doorway grew wider until it extended to the full width ofthe doorway. And a man stood in it, rigid, erect, motionless. 

Calumet stood in silent appreciation of the oddness of thesituation--he had come like a thief in the night--until he rememberedthe cigarette in his mouth; that its light was betraying his position. He reached up, withdrew the cigarette, and held it concealed in thepalm of his hand. 

But he was the fraction of a second too late. His father had seen thelight; was aware of his presence. Calumet saw a pistol glitter in hishand, heard his voice, a little hoarse, possibly from fear, give thefaltering command:

"Hands up!"

Until now, Calumet had been filled with a savage enjoyment of thepossibilities. He had counted on making his presence known at thisjuncture, anticipating much pleasure in the revelation of his father'ssurprise when he should discover that the intruder was his hated son. But in his eagerness to conceal the fire from the cigarette he burnedthe palm of the hand holding it. Instantly he succumbed to a furiousrage. With a snarl he flung himself forward, grasping the man's pistolwith his left hand and depressing the muzzle, at just the instant thatit was discharged. 

Calumet felt the sting of the powder in his face, and in a fury ofresentment he brought his right hand up and clutched his father'sthroat. He had taken much pride in his ability to control hispassions, but at this moment they were unleashed. When his fathershowed resistence, Calumet swung him free of the door, dragged him tothe center of the room, where he threw him heavily to the floor, falling on top of him and jamming a knee savagely into the pit of hisstomach. Perhaps he had desisted then had not the man struggled andfought back. His resistence made Calumet more furious. He pulled onehand free and attempted to secure the pistol, forcing the hand holdingit viciously against the floor. The weapon was again discharged andCalumet became a raging demon. Twice he lifted the man's head andknocked it furiously against the floor, and each time he spoke, hisvoice a hoarse, throaty whisper:

"So, this is the way you greet your son, you damned maverick!" he said. 

So engrossed was Calumet with his work of subduing the still strugglingparent that he did not hear a slight sound behind him. But aflickering light came over his shoulder and shone fairly into the faceof the man beneath him, and he saw that the man was not his father butan entire stranger!

He was not given time in which to express his surprise, for he heard avoice behind him and turned to see a young woman standing in thedoorway, a candle in one hand, a forty-five Colt clutched in the other, its muzzle gaping at him. The young woman's face was white, her eyeswide and brilliant, she swayed, but there was determination in hermanner that could not be mistaken. 

"Get up, or I will shoot you like a dog!" she said, in a queer, breathless voice. 

[Illustration: "Get up, or I will shoot you like a dog!" she said. ]

Releasing his grip on the man's throat, Calumet swung around sidewaysand glared malevolently at the young woman. His anger was gone; therewas no reason for it, now that he had discovered that the man was nothis father. But the demon in him was not yet subdued, and he got tohis feet, not because the young woman had ordered him to do so, butbecause he saw no reason to stay down. A cold, mocking smile replacedthe malevolence on his face when, after reaching an erect position, hesaw that the weapon in the young woman's hand had drooped until itsmuzzle was directed toward the floor at his feet. A forty-five caliberrevolver, loaded, weighs about forty ounces, and this one looked sounwieldy and cumbersome, so entirely harmless in the young woman'sslender hand, that her threat seemed absurd, even farcical. Anironical humor over the picture she made standing there moved Calumet. 

"I reckon you ought to use two hands if you want to hold that gunproper, ma'am, " he said. 

The muzzle of the weapon wavered uncertainly; the young woman gasped. Apparently the lack of fear exhibited by the intruder shocked her. Butshe did not follow Calumet's suggestion, she merely stood and watchedhim warily, as the man whom he had attacked struggled dizzily to hisfeet, staggered weakly to a chair and half fell, half slipped into it, swaying oddly back and forth, gasping for breath, a grotesque figure. 

The demon in Calumet slumbered--this situation was to his liking. Hestepped back a pace, and when the young woman saw that he meditated nofurther mischief she lowered the pistol to her side. Then, movingcautiously, watching Calumet closely, she placed the candle on thefloor in front of her. Again she stood erect, though she did not raisethe pistol. Evidently she was regaining her composure, though Calumetobserved that her free hand came up and grasped the dress over herbosom so tightly that the fabric was in danger of ripping. Her face, in the flickering light from the candle on the floor, was slightly inin the shadow, but Calumet could see that the color was coming back toher cheeks, and he took note of her, watching her with insolentintentness. 

Of the expression in Calumet's eyes she apparently took no notice, butshe was watching the man he had attacked, plainly concerned over hiscondition. And when at last she saw that he was suffering more fromshock than from real injury she breathed a sigh of relief. Then sheturned to Calumet. 

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. She was breathing moreeasily, but her voice still quivered, and the hand over her bosom movedwith a quick, nervous motion. 

"I reckon that's my business, " returned Calumet. He had made amistake, certainly, he knew that. It was apparent that his father hadleft the Lazy Y. At least, if he were anywhere about he was not ableto come to investigate the commotion caused by the arrival of his son. Either he was sick or had disposed of the ranch, possibly, if thelatter were the case, to the girl and the man. In the event of hisfather having sold the ranch it was plain that Calumet had no businesshere. He was an intruder--more, his attack on the man must convinceboth him and the girl that there had been a deeper significance to hisvisit. However, the explanation of the presence of the presentoccupants of the house did not bother Calumet, and he did not intend toset them right, for he was enjoying himself. Strife, danger, werehere. Moreover, he had brought them, and he was in his element. Hisblood pulsed swiftly through his veins and he felt a strangeexhilaration as he stepped slightly aside and rested a hand on the desktop, leering at the girl. 

She returned his gaze and evidently divined something of what was inhis mind, for her chin lifted a little in defiance. The flickeringlight from the candle fell on her hair, brown and wavy, and in a tumbleof graceful disorder, and threw into bold relief the firm lines of herchin and throat. She was not beautiful, but she certainly merited theterm "pretty, " which formed on Calumet's lips as he gazed at her, though it remained unspoken. He gave her this tribute grudgingly, conscious of the deep impression she was making upon him. He had neverseen a woman like her--for the reason, perhaps, that he had studiouslyavoided the good ones. Mere facial beauty would not have made thisimpression on him--it was something deeper, something more substantialand abiding. And, watching her, he suddenly knew what it was. Therewas in her eyes, back of the defiance that was in them now, anexpression that told of sturdy honesty and virtue. These gave to herfeatures a repose and calm that could not be disturbed, an unconsciousdignity of character that excitement could not efface, and her gaze wasunwavering as her eyes met his in a sharp, brief struggle. Brief, forCalumet's drooped. He felt the dominant personality of the girl andtried to escape its effect; looked at her with a snarl, writhing underher steady gaze, a slow red coming into his cheeks. 

The silence between them lasted long. The man on the chair, swayingback and forth, began to recover his wits and his breath. He struggledto an erect position and gazed about him with blood-shot eyes, feelinghis throat where Calumet's iron fingers had gripped it. Twice his lipsmoved in an effort to speak, but no, sound came from between them. 

Under the girl's uncomfortable scrutiny, Calumet's thoughts becamestrangely incoherent, and he shifted uneasily, for he felt that she wasmeasuring him, appraising him, valuing him. He saw slow-changingexpressions in her eyes--defiance, scorn, and, finally, amusedcontempt. With the last expression he knew she had reached a decision, not flattering to him. He tried to show her by looking at her that hedid not care what her opinion was, but his recreant eyes refused theissue and he knew that he was being worsted in a spiritual battle withthe first strong feminine character he had met; that her personalitywas overpowering his in the first clash. With a last effort he forcedhis eyes to steadiness and succeeded in sneering at her, though he feltthat somehow the sneer was ineffectual, puerile. And then she smiledat him, deliberately, with a disdain that maddened him and brought adark flush to his face that reached to his temples. And then her voicetaunted him:

"What a big, brave man you are?"

Twice her gaze roved over him from head to foot before her voice cameagain, and in the total stoppage of his thoughts he found it impossibleto choose a word suitable to interrupt her. 

"For you _think_ you are a man, I suppose?" she added, her voice filledwith a lashing scorn. "You wear a gun, you ride a horse, and you_look_ like a man. But there the likeness ends. I suppose I ought tokill you--a beast like you has no business living. Fortunately, youhaven't hurt grandpa very much. You may go now--go and tell TomTaggart that he will have to try again!"

The sound of her voice broke the spell which her eyes had woven aboutCalumet's senses, and he stood erect, hooking his thumbs in hiscartridge belt, unaffected by her tirade, his voice insolent. 

"Why, ma'am, " he said, mockingly, his voice an irritating drawl, "youcert'nly are some on the talk, for sure! Your folks sorta handed youthe tongue for the family when you butted into this here world, didn'tthey? An' so that's your grandpa? I come pretty near hurtin' him an'you're some het up over it? But I reckon that if he has to set aroundan' listen to your palaver he'd be right glad to cash in. Shucks. Ibeg your pardon, ma'am. If it'll do you any good to know, I thoughtyour poor grandpap was some one else. I was thinkin' it was a familyaffair, an' that I had a right to guzzle him. You see, I thought theol' maverick was my father. "

The girl started, the color slowly faded from her cheeks and she drew along, tremulous breath. 

"Then you, " she said; "you are----" She hesitated and stared at himintensely, her free hand tightly clenched. 

He bowed, derisively, discerning the sudden confusion that hadovertaken her and making the most of his opportunity to increase it. 

"I'm Calumet Marston, " he said, grinning. 

The girl gasped. "Oh!" she said, weakly; "Oh!"

The huge pistol slipped out of her hand and thudded dully to the floorand she stood, holding tightly to the door jambs, her eyes fixed onCalumet with an expression that he could not analyze. 

CHAPTER III

CALUMET'S GUARDIAN

A new silence fell; a silence pregnant with a premonition of renewedstrife. Calumet felt it and the evil in him exulted. He left the deskand stepped close to the girl, deftly picking up the fallen pistol andplacing it on the desk back of him, out of the girl's reach. Shewatched him, both hands pressed over her bosom, apparently stillstunned over the revelation of his identity. There was mystery here, Calumet felt it and was determined to uncover it. He took up the chairthat he had previously overturned and seated himself on it, facing thegirl. 

"Set down, " he said, waving a hand toward another chair. In responseto his invitation she moved toward the chair, hesitated when shereached it, apparently having nearly recovered her composure, thoughher face was pale and she watched him covertly, half fearfully. Whileshe seated herself Calumet got out of his chair and took up the candle, placing it on the desk beside the pistol. This done, he busied himselfwith the rolling of a cigarette, working deliberately, an alert eye onthe girl and her grandfather. 

The latter had recovered and was sitting rigid in the chair, fear andwonder in his eyes as he watched Calumet. To him Calumet spoke when hehad completed the rolling of the cigarette and was holding a flaringmatch to it. He took a tigerish amusement from the old man's plight. 

"I reckon I come pretty near doin' for you, eh?" he said, grinning. "Well, there ain't no tellin' when a man will make a mistake. " Hisgaze left the old man and was directed at the girl. "I reckon we'llclear things up a bit now, ma'am, " he said. "What are you an' yourgrand-pap doin' at the Lazy Y?"

"We live here. "

"Where's the old coyote which has been callin' himself my dad?"

A sudden change came over the girl; a vindictive satisfaction seemed toradiate from her. So it appeared to Calumet. In the flashing look shegave him he thought he could detect a knowledge of advantage, aconsciousness of power, over him. Her voice emphasized this impression. 

"Your father's dead, " she returned, and watched him narrowly. 

Calumet's eyelashes flickered once. Shock or emotion, this was all theevidence he gave of it. He puffed long and deeply at his cigarette andnot for an instant did he remove his gaze from the girl's face, for hewas studying her, watching for a recurrence of the subtle gleam that hehad previously caught. But in the look that she now gave him there wasnothing but amusement. Apparently she was enjoying him. Certainly shehad entirely recovered from the shock he had caused her. 

"Dead, eh?" he said. "When did he cash in?"

"A week ago today. "

Calumet's eyelashes flickered again. Here was the explanation for thatmysterious impulse which had moved him to return home. It was just aweek ago that he had taken the notion and he had acted upon itimmediately. He had heard of mental telepathy, and here was a workingillustration of it. However, he gave no thought to its bearing on hispresence at the Lazy Y beyond skeptically assuring himself that it wasa mere coincidence. In any event, what did it matter? He was here;that was the main thing. 

His thoughts had become momentarily introspective, and when his mentalfaculties returned to a realization of the present he saw that the girlwas regarding him with an intense and wondering gaze. She had beenstudying him and when she saw him looking at her she turned her head. He experienced an unaccountable elation, though he kept his voice drylysarcastic. 

"I reckon the ol' fool asked for me?"

"Yes. "

This time Calumet could not conceal his surprise; it was revealed inthe skeptical, sneering, boring glance that he threw at the girl'sface, now inscrutable. Her manner angered him. 

"I reckon you're a liar, " he said, with cold deliberation. 

The girl reddened quickly; her hands clenched. But she did not look athim. 

"Thank you, " she returned, mockingly. 

"What did he say?" he demanded gruffly, to conceal a slightembarrassment over her manner of receiving the insult. 

Her chin lifted disdainfully. "You wouldn't believe a liar, " she saidcoldly. 

Again her spirit battled his. The dark flush spread over his face andhe found that he could not meet her eyes; again the sheer, compellingstrength of her personality routed the evilness in his heart. Involuntarily, his lips moved. 

"I reckon I didn't mean just that, " he said. And then, surprised thatsuch words should come from him he looked up to see the hard calm ofher face change to triumph. 

The expression was swiftly transient. It baffled him, filling him withan impotent rage. But he watched her narrowly as she folded her handsin her lap and looked down at them. 

"Your father expected you to come, " she said quietly. "He prayed thatyou might return before he died. It seems that he felt he had treatedyou meanly and he wanted to tell you that he had repented. "

A cynical wonder filled Calumet, and he laughed--a short, raucousstaccato. 

"How do you know?" he questioned. 

"He told me. "

Calumet considered her for a moment in silence and then his attentionwas directed to her grandfather, who had got to his feet and waswalking unsteadily toward the dining-room door. He was awell-preserved man, appearing to be about sixty. That Calumet's attackhad been a vicious one was apparent, for as the man reached the door hestaggered and leaned weakly against the jambs. He made a grimace atCalumet and smiled weakly at the girl. 

"I'm pretty well knocked out, Betty, " he said. "My neck hurts, sorta. I'll send Bob in to keep you company. "

The girl cast a sharp, eloquent glance at Calumet and smiled withstraight lips. 

"Don't bother to send Bob, " she replied; "I am not afraid. "

The grandfather went out, leaving the door open. While the girl stoodlistening to his retreating steps, Calumet considered her. She hadsaid that she was not afraid of him--he believed her; her actionsshowed it. He said nothing until after her grandfather had vanishedand his step was no longer heard, and then when she turned to him hesaid shortly:

"So your name's Betty. Betty what?"

"Clayton. "

"An' your grandpap?"

"Malcolm Clayton. "

"Who's Bob?"

"My brother. "

"Any more Claytons around here?" he sneered. 

"No. "

"Well, " he said with truculent insolence; "what in Sam Hill are you-alldoin' at the Lazy Y, anyway?"

"I am coming to that presently, " she returned, unruffled. 

"Goin' to work your jaw again, I reckon?" he taunted. 

The hard calm came again into her face as she looked at him, thoughbehind it was that subtle quality that hinted of her possession ofadvantage. Her manner made plain to him that she held some mysteriouspower over him, a power which she valued, even enjoyed, and he wasnettled, baffled, and afflicted with a deep rage against her because ofit. Dealing with a man he would have known what to do, but he feltstrangely impotent in the presence of this girl, for she was notdisturbed over his insults, and her quiet, direct glances affected himwith a queer sensation of guilt, even embarrassed him. 

"Well?" he prompted, after a silence. 

"I am going to tell you about your father, " she said. 

"Make it short, " he said gruffly. 

"Five years ago, " said the girl, ignoring the insolent suggestion; "myfather and mother died. My father had been a big cattle owner, " sheadded with a flash of pride. "He was very wealthy; he was educated, refined--a gentleman. We lived in Texas--lived well. I attended auniversity in the South. In my second year there I was called homesuddenly. My father was ill from shock and disappointment. He hadinvested heavily in some northern enterprise--it will not interest youto know the nature of it--and had lost his entire fortune. His ranchproperty was involved and had to be sold. There was barely enough tosatisfy the creditors. Father died and mother soon followed him. Grandfather, Bob, and I were left destitute. We left the ranch andtook up a quarter section of land on the Nueces. We became nesters andwere continually harassed by a big cattle owner nearby who wanted ourrange. We had to get out. Grandfather thought there might be anopportunity to take up some land in this territory. Bob was--well, Bobtook mother's death so hard that we didn't want to stay in Texas anylonger. The outlook wasn't bright. Bob was too young to work--"

"Lazy, I reckon, " jeered Calumet. 

The girl's eyes flashed with a swift, contemptuous resentment and hervoice chilled. "Bob's leg was hurt, " she said. She waited for aninstant, watching the sneer on Calumet's face, and then went on firmly, as though she had decided not to let anything he said disturb her. "Sowhen Grandfather proposed coming here I agreed. We took what fewpersonal effects that were left us. We traveled for two months--"

"I ain't carin' to hear your family history, " interrupted Calumet. "You started to tell me about my dad. "

"We were following the river trail near here, " the girl went on firmly, scorning to pay any attention to this insult; "when we heard shooting. I stayed with the wagon while grandfather went to investigate. Wefound two men--Tom Taggart and his son Neal--concealed in thecottonwood, trying to shoot your father, who was in the house. Yourfather had been wounded in the shoulder and it would not have been longbefore--"

"Who are the Taggarts?" questioned Calumet, his lips setting strangely. 

"They own a ranch near here--the Arrow. The motive behind their desireto kill your father makes another story which you shall hear some timeif you have the patience, " she said with jeering emphasis. 

"I ain't particular. "

The girl's lips straightened. "Grandfather helped your father drivethe Taggarts away, " she went on. "Your father was living here alonebecause several of his men had sought to betray him and he haddischarged them all. Your father was wounded very badly andgrandfather and I took care of him until he recovered. He liked us, wanted us to stay here, and we did. "

"Pretty soft for a pair of poverty-stricken adventurers, " commentedCalumet. 

The girl's voice was cold and distinct despite the insult. 

"Your father liked me particularly well. A year ago he drew up a willgiving me all his property and cutting you off without a cent. He gaveme the will to keep for him. "

"Fine!" was Calumet's dryly sarcastic comment. 

"But I destroyed the will, " went on the girl. 

Calumet's expression changed to surprised wonder, then to mockery. 

"You're locoed!" he declared. "Why didn't you take the property?"

"I didn't want it; it was yours. "

Calumet forgot to sneer; his wonder and astonishment over the girl'sability to resist such a temptation were so great as to shock him tosilence. She and her grandfather were dependants, abroad without meansof support, and yet the girl had refused a legacy which she and herrelative had undoubtedly earned. Such sturdy honesty surprised him, mystified him, and he was convinced that there must have been someother motive behind her refusal to become his father's beneficiary. Hewatched her closely for a moment and then, thinking he had discoveredthe motive, he said in a voice of dry mockery:

"I reckon you didn't take it because there was nothin' to take. "

"Besides the land and the buildings, he left about twenty thousanddollars in cash, " she informed him quietly. 

"Where is it?" demanded Calumet quickly. 

Betty smiled. "That, " she said dryly, "is what I want to talk to youabout. " Again the consciousness of advantage shone in her eyes. Calumet felt that it would be useless to question her and so he leanedback in his chair and regarded her saturninely. 

"Soon after your father became afflicted with his last sickness, "continued Betty; "he called me to him and took me into his confidence. He talked to me about you--about the way he had treated you. Both heand your mother had been, he said, victims of uncontrollable tempers, and were beset with elemental passions which he was certain haddescended to you. In fact, because of the hatred your mother boreyou--" She hesitated. 

"Well, that too, belongs to the story which you will hear about Taggartwhen you have the patience, " she continued. "But your father repented;he saw the injustice he had done you and wanted to repair it. He wascertain, though, that this curse of temper was deep-seated in you andhe wanted to drive it out. He felt that when you finally came home youwould need reforming, and he did not want you to profit by his moneyuntil you forgave him. He had strange notions regarding yourreformation; he declared he would not take your word for it, but wouldinsist on a practical demonstration. When he had fully explained hisideas on the subject he made me swear that I would carry them out. "She paused and looked at Calumet and he saw that the expression ofadvantage that had been in her eyes all along was no longer a subtleexpression, but plain and unmistakable. 

Calumet watched her intently, silently, his face a battleground for theemotions that rioted within him. The girl watched him with covertvigilance and he felt that she was enjoying him. And when finally shesaw the rage die out of his eyes, saw the color come slowly back intohis cheeks and his face become a hard, inscrutable mask, she knew thatthe coming struggle between them was to be a bitter one. 

"So, " he said, after a while; "I don't get the coin until I become aSunday school scholar?"

"It is specified that you give a practical demonstration of reform incharacter. You must show that you forgive your father. "

"You're goin' to be my guardian?"

"Your judge, " corrected the girl. 

"He's got all this in the will?"

"Yes, the last one he made. "

"You don't reckon I could break that will?" he sneered. 

"Try it, " she mocked. "It has been probated in Las Vegas. The judgehappens to be a friend of your father's and, I understand, sympathizedwith him. "

"Clever, eh?" said Calumet, grinning crookedly. 

"I am glad you think so, " she taunted. 

CHAPTER IV

CALUMET PLAYS BETTY'S GAME

The silence between Betty and Calumet continued so long that it grewoppressive. The night noises came to their ears through the closeddoor; a straggling moonbeam flittered through the branches of a tree inthe wood near the ranchhouse, penetrated the window and threw arapier-like shaft on Calumet's sneering face. Betty's eyes in theflickering glare of the candle light, were steady and unwavering as shevainly searched for any sign of emotion in the mask-like features ofthe man seated before her. She saw the mask break presently, and acold, mirthless smile wreathe his lips. 

"You make me sick, " he said slowly. "If you'd had any sense you'd havetold the old fool to go to hell! You're goin' to reform me? You'regoin' to be my judge? You--you--you! Why you poor little sufferin'innocent, what business have you got here at all? What right have yougot to be settin' there tellin' me that you're goin' to be my judge;that you're goin' to butt into my game at all? Where's the money?" hedemanded, his voice hard and menacing. 

"The money is hidden, " she returned quietly. 

"Where?"

"That is my business, " she returned defiantly. "Where it is hidden noone but me knows. And I am not going to tell until the time comes. You are not going to scare me, either, " she added confidently. "If youdon't care to abide by your father's wishes you are at liberty togo--anywhere you please. "

"Who'd get the money then?"

"You have a year in which to show that you forgive your father. If atthe end of that time you have not forgiven him, or if you leave theranch without agreeing to the provisions of the will, the entireproperty comes to me. "

"I reckon you'd like to have me leave?" he sneered. 

"That, " she returned, unruffled, "is my business. But I don't mindtelling you that I have no interest in the matter one way or another. You may leave if you like, but if you stay you will yield to yourfather's wishes if you are to receive the money and the property. "

There was finality in her voice; he felt it and his face darkened withpassion. A sneer replaced the mirthless grin on his lips, and when hegot up and moved slowly toward Betty she sat motionless, for there wasa repressed savagery in his movements that chilled her blood. He cameand stood in front of her, towering over her; she saw that his handswere clenched, the fingers working. Twice she tried to look up at him, but each time her gaze stopped at his hands--they fascinated her. Shetried to scream when she finally saw them come out toward her, butsucceeded in emitting only a breathless gasp, for a broad, rough palmsuddenly enclosed each of her cheeks and her head was forced slowly andresistlessly back until she found herself looking straight up at him. 

"Why, you, " he said, his voice vibrating with some strange passion, while he shook her head slowly from side to side as though he wereresisting an impulse to throttle her; "why, you--you--" he repeated, his voice a sudden, tense whisper; "for two bits I'd--"

He hesitated, for she had recovered from her momentary physical andmental paralysis, roused by the awful threat in his voice and manner, and was fighting to free herself, clawing at his hands, kicking, squirming, but ineffectively, for his hands were like bands of steel. Finding resistance useless she sat rigid again, her eyes flashingimpotent rage and scorn. 

"Coward!" she said breathlessly. 

For an instant longer he held her and then laughed and dropped hishands to his sides. 

"Shucks, " he said, his voice expressing disgust; "I reckon the old manknowed what he was doin' when he appointed you my guardian! A mancan't fight a woman--like that!"

He walked to the chair upon which he had been sitting, turned it aroundso that its back was toward Betty, and straddled it, leaning his armson its back and resting his chin on them. 

"Well, " he said, with a slow grin at her; "if it will do you any goodto know, I've decided to stay here and let you practice on me. What'sthe first move?"

But his action had aroused her; she stood up and confronted him, herface flushed with shame and indignation. 

"Leave this house!" she commanded, taking a step toward him andspeaking rapidly and hoarsely, her voice quivering as though she hadbeen running; "leave it instantly!" She stamped a foot to emphasizethe order. 

Calumet did not move. He watched her, a smile on his lips, his eyesnarrowed. When she stamped her foot the smile grew to a short, amusedlaugh. 

"Sorta riled, eh?" he jeered. "Well, go as far as you like--you'resure amusin'. But I don't reckon that I'll be leavin' here in a hurry. Didn't the old man tell you I could stay here a year? What's the useof me goin' now, just when you're goin' to start to reform me? Why, "he finished, surveying her with interest; "I reckon the old man wouldbe plumb tickled to see the way you're carryin' on--obeyin' his lastwishes. " He rested his head on his arms and laughed heartily. 

He heard her step across the floor, and raised his head again, to lookinto the muzzle of the pistol he had laid on the desk. It was close tohim, steady in her hands, and behind it her eyes were blazing withwrath and determination. 

"Go!" she ordered sharply; "go now--this minute, or I will shoot you!"

He laughed recklessly into the muzzle of the weapon and then withoutvisible excitement turned in his chair, reached out a swift hand, grasped the weapon by the barrel and depressed the menacing muzzle sothat it pointed straight downward. Holding it thus in spite of herfrantic efforts to wrench it free, he got to his feet and stood infront of her. 

"Why, Betty, " he jeered; "you're sure some excited. " Seizing her otherhand, he turned her around so that she faced him fairly, holding herwith a grip so tight that she could not move. 

"It's your game, ain't it?" he said mockingly. "Well, I'm playin' itwith you. Somethin' seems to tell me that we're goin' to have a daisytime makin' a go of it. "

He suddenly released her hands and stepped back, leaving her inpossession of the pistol. 

"Usin' it?" he questioned, drawling, nodding toward the weapon. Bettylooked down at it, shuddered, and then with an expression of dread andhorror reached out and laid it gingerly on the desk top. 

The next instant Calumet stood alone, grinning widely at the doorthrough which Betty had vanished. Listening, he heard her retreatingsteps, heard a distant door slam. He walked to the desk and looked atthe pistol, then turned and surveyed the room with a speculative eye. 

"She didn't even offer me a place to sleep, " he said mockingly. 

He stood for an instant longer, debating the situation. Then hecrossed the floor, closed the dining-room door, fastened it securelyand recrossing to the outside door stepped down from the porch andsought his pony. Ten minutes later he carried the saddle in, threw iton the floor, folded the saddle blanket and placed it on the sofa, closed the outside door, opened the window, snuffed out the candle, stretched himself out on the sofa and went to sleep. 

CHAPTER V

THE FIRST LESSON

Shortly after daybreak the following morning Calumet turned over on hisback, stretched lazily and opened his eyes. When a recollection of theevents of the previous night forced themselves into his consciousnesshe scowled and sat erect, listening. From beyond the closeddining-room door came sundry sounds which told him that the Claytonswere already astir. He heard the rattle of dishes, and the appetizingaroma of fried bacon filtered through the crevices in the battered doorand assailed his nostrils. 

He scowled again as he rose and stood looking down at his saddle. Whenbeginning his homeward journey he had supplied himself with sodabiscuit and jerked beef, but he had consumed the last of his food atnoon the day before and the scent of the frying bacon aroused him tothe realization that he was ravenously hungry. As he meditated uponthe situation the scowl on his face changed to an appreciative grin. Now that he had decided to stay here he did not purpose to go hungrywhen there was food around. 

Shouldering his saddle he left the office and proceeded to the stable, in which he had placed his pony the night before. He fed the animalfrom a pitiful supply of grain in a bin, and after slamming the door ofthe stable viciously, sneering at it as it resisted, he stalked to theranchhouse. 

There was a tin basin on a bench just outside the kitchen door. Hepoured it half full of water from a pail that sat on the porch floor, and washed his hands and face, noting, while engaged in his task, aclean towel hanging from a roller on the wall of the ranchhouse. Whiledrying his face he heard voices from within, subdued, anxious. Completing his ablutions he stepped to the screen door, threw it openand stood on the threshold. 

In the center of the kitchen stood a table covered with a white clothon which were dishes filled with food from which arose promising odors. Beside a window in the opposite wall of the kitchen stood MalcolmClayton. He was facing Calumet, and apparently had recovered from theencounter of the night before. But when he looked at Calumet hecringed as though in fear. Betty stood beside the table, facingCalumet also. But there was no fear in her attitude. She was erect, her hands resting on her hips, and when Calumet hesitated on thethreshold she looked at him with a scornful half smile. Yielding tothe satanic humor which had received its birth the night before when hehad made his decision to remain at the Lazy Y, he returned Betty'ssmile with a derisive grin, walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and seated himself. 

It was a deliberate and premeditated infringement of the proprieties, and Calumet anticipated a storm of protest from Betty. But when helooked brazenly at her he saw her regarding him with a direct, disdainful gaze. He understood. She was surprised and indignant overthe action, possibly shocked over his cool assumption, but she was notgoing to lose her composure. 

"Well, " he said, keenly enjoying the situation and determined totorment her further, "set down. I reckon we'll grub. "

"Thank you, " she mocked, with quick sarcasm; "I was wondering whetheryou would ask us. Grandpa, " she added, turning to Malcolm, "won't youjoin us? Mr. Marston has been so polite and thoughtful that wecertainly ought not to refuse his invitation. "

She drew out a chair for Malcolm and stood beside it while he shuffledforward and hesitatingly slipped into it, watching Calumet furtively. Then she moved quietly and gracefully to another chair, directlyopposite Calumet. 

Her sarcasm had no perceptible effect on Calumet. Inwardly he wasintensely satisfied. His action in seating himself at the tablewithout invitation angered Betty, as he had intended it should. 

"Some shocked, eh?" he said, helping himself to some bacon and friedpotatoes, and passing them to her when he had finished with them. 

"Shocked?" she returned calmly, unconcernedly supplying herself withfood from the dishes she had taken from him, "Oh, my, no. You see, from what your father told me about you, I rather expected you to be abrute. "

"Aw, Betty, " came Malcolm's voice, raised in mild remonstrance; "youhadn't ought to--"

"If you please, grandpa, " Betty interrupted him, and he subsided andglanced anxiously at Calumet, into whose face had come a dash of darkcolor. He swallowed a mouthful of bacon before he answered Betty. 

"Then you ain't disappointed, " he sneered. 

She rested her hands on the table beside her plate, the knife and forkpoised, and regarded him with a frank gaze. 

"No, I am not disappointed. You quite meet my expectations. In fact, "she went on, "I thought you would be much worse than you are. So far, if we except your attack on grandfather, you haven't exhibited anyvicious traits. You are vain, though, and conceited, and like to bullypeople. But those are faults that can be corrected. "

Calumet had to look twice at her before he could be certain that shewas not mocking him. 

"I reckon you're goin' to correct them?" he said, then. 

She took a sip of coffee and placed the cup delicately down before sheanswered. 

"Of course--if you are to stay here. "

"How?" His lips were in an incredulous sneer. 

"By showing you that you can't be conceited around me, and that youcan't bully me. I suppose, " she went on, leaning her elbows on thetable and supporting her chin with her hands while she looked straightat him, "that when you came in here and took a seat without beinginvited, you imagined you were impressing some one with yourimportance. But you were not; you were merely acting the part of avulgar boor. Or perhaps you had a vague idea that you were going to doas you please. "

He placed his knife and fork down and looked at her. Her manner wasirritating; her quiet, direct glances disconcerted him. He could notfail to see that he had signally failed in his effort to disturb her. In fact, it became very plain to him as he watched her that she wasserenely conscious of her power over him, as a teacher is conscious ofher authority over an unruly pupil, and that, like a teacher, she wasquietly determined to be the victor. 

The thought angered Calumet. There was in his mind a desire to humbleher, to crush her, to break her spirit, to drag her down to his ownlevel where he could fight her with his own weapons. He wanted tohumiliate her, wanted to gloat over her, wanted above all to have heracknowledge his superiority, his authority, over her. Had he been ableto do this at their first meeting he would have been satisfied; if hewere able to do it now he would be pleased. 

"It's none of your business what I thought, " he said, leaning over thetable and leering at her. "I'm goin' to run things to suit myself, an'if you an' your grandpap an' your brother don't like my style you canpull your freight, pronto. I'm goin' to boss this ranch. Do you getme?"

She seemed amused. "The Lazy Y, " she said slowly, her eyes gleaming, "has need of something besides a boss. You have observed, I suppose, that it is slightly run down. Your father purposely neglected it. Considerable money and work will be required to place it in conditionwhere it can be bossed at all. I haven't any doubt, " she added, surveying him critically, "that you will be able to supply thenecessary labor. But what about the money? Are you well supplied withthat?"

"Meaning to hint about the money the old man left, I reckon?"

"Of course. Understand that I have control of that, and you won't geta cent unless in my opinion you deserve it. "

He glared savagely at her. 

"Of course, " she went on calmly, though there was triumph in her voice, "you can force us to leave the ranch. But I suspect that you won't tryto do that, because if you did you would never get the money. I shouldgo directly over to Las Vegas and petition to have your claim annulled. Then at the end of the year the money would be mine. "

He stiffened with impotent rage as he took up his knife and fork againand resumed eating. He was disagreeably conscious that she held theadvantage, for assuredly he had no intention of driving her from theranch or of leaving it himself until he got his hands on the money. Besides, he thought he saw back of her unconcern over his probablecourse of action a secret desire for him to leave or to drive her away, and in the perversity of his heart he decided that both must stay. Something might occur to reveal the whereabouts of the money, or hecould watch her, reasonably certain that one day her woman's curiositywould lead her to its hiding place. Plainly, in any event, he mustbide his time. Though his decision to defer action was taken, hisresentment did not abate; he could not conquer the deep rage in hisheart against her because of her interference in his affairs, and whenhe suddenly looked up to see her watching him with a calm smile he madea grimace of hatred at her. 

"I'll make you show your hand, you sufferin' fool!" he said. "If youwas a man I'd make you tell me right now where that corn is, or I'dguzzle you till your tongue stuck out a yard. As it is, I reckon I'vegot to wait until you get damn good an' ready; got to wait until ameasly, sneakin' woman--"

Her laugh interrupted him--low, disdainful, mocking. 

"I think I know what you are going to say. You are going to tell mehow I wormed my way into the good graces of your father and coaxed himto make me his beneficiary. It is your intention to be mean, to insultme, to try to bully me. " Her eyes flashed as she leaned a littletoward him. "Understand, " she said; "your bluster won't have theslightest effect on me. I am not afraid of you. So swear and curse toyour heart's content. As for bossing the ranch, " she went on, hervoice suddenly one of cold mockery, "what is there to boss? Somedilapidated buildings! Of course you may boss those, because theycan't object. But you can't boss me, nor grandfather, nor Bob--becausewe won't let you!"

She walked away from the table and went to a door that led to anotherroom, standing in the opening and looking back at Calumet, who stillsat at the table, speechless with surprise. 

"Go out and begin your bossing!" she jeered. "Very likely thebuildings will begin to dance around at your bidding. With youradmirable persuasive powers you ought to be able to do wonders withthem in the matter of repairs. Try it, at least. But if they refuseto be repaired at your mere word, and you think something moresubstantial is needed, then come to me--perhaps I may help you. "

She bowed mockingly and vanished into the other room, closing the doorbehind her, leaving Calumet glaring into his plate. 

For a moment there was a painful silence, which Malcolm broke byclearing his throat, his gaze on the tablecloth. 

"Sometimes I think Betty's a little fresh, " he said, apologetically. "She's sorta sudden-like. She hadn't ought to--"

He looked up to see a malevolent scowl on Calumet's face, and he duckedby the narrowest of margins the heavy plate that flew from Calumet'shand. The plate struck the wall and was shattered to atoms. Malcolmcrouched, in deadly fear of other missiles, but Calumet did not deignto notice him further, stalking out of the room and slamming the doorbehind him. 

CHAPTER VI

"BOB"

Five minutes after leaving the kitchen of the ranchhouse Calumet stoodbeside the rotted rails of the corral fence near the stable, frowning, fully conscious that he had been worsted in the verbal battle justended. He was filled with a disagreeable sense of impotence; he feltsmall, mean, cheap, and uncomfortable, and was oppressed withindecision. In short, he felt that he was not the same man who hadridden up to the Lazy Y ranchhouse at twilight the night before--intwelve hours a change had come over him. And Betty had wrought it. Heknew that. 

Had he only to do with Malcolm--or any man, for that matter--therewould have been no doubt of his course. He would have hustled outMalcolm or any other man long before this, and there would have been anend to it. But Betty had made it quite plain to him that she did notpurpose to leave, and, since he had had little experience with women, he was decidedly at a loss to discover a way to deal with her. That hecould not rout her by force was certain, for he could not lay hands ona woman in violence, and he was by no means certain that he wanted herto leave, because if she did it was highly probable that he would neverget his hands on the money his father had left. Of course he couldsearch for the money, but there came to his mind now tales of treasurethat had never been recovered, and he was reluctant to take anychances. On the other hand, he was facing the maddening prospect ofliving for a year under the eyes of a determined young woman who was tobe the sole judge of his conduct. He was to become a probationer andBetty was to watch his every move. 

He wondered, making a wry face at the thought, whether she intended torecord his actions in a book, giving him marks of merit or demeritaccording as the whim struck her? In that case she had probablyalready placed a black mark against him, perhaps several. 

He stood long beside the fence, considering the situation. It was oddto the point of unreality, but, no matter how odd, it was a situationthat he must face, because he had already decided to stay and make anattempt to get the money. He certainly would not go away and leave itto Betty; he would not give her that satisfaction. Nor did he intendto be pliable clay in her hands, to become in the end a creature of hershaping. He would stay, but he would be himself, and he would make theClaytons rue the day they had interfered in his affairs. 

Leaning on the top rail of the fence, his gaze roved over the sweep ofvalley, dull and cheerless in the early dawn, with a misty film risingup out of it to meet and mingle and evaporate in the far-flung colorsof the slow-rising sun. Once his gaze concentrated on a spot in thedistance. He detected movement, and watched, motionless, until he wascertain. Half a mile it was to the spot--a low hill, crested withyucca, sagebrush, and octilla--and he saw the desert weeds move, observed a dark form slink out from them and stand for an instant onthe skyline. Wolf or coyote, it was too far for him to be certain, buthe watched it with a sneer until it slunk down into the tangle of sage, out of his sight. 

He presently forgot the slinking figure; his thoughts returned toBetty. He did not like her, she irritated him. For a woman she wastoo assertive, too belligerent by half. Though considering her now, hewas reluctantly compelled to admit that she was a forceful figure, and, reviewing the conversation he had had with her a few minutes before, the picture she had made standing in the doorway defying him, mockinghim, rebuking him, he could not repress a thrill of grudging admiration. 

For half an hour he stood at the corral fence. He rolled and smokedthree cigarettes, his thoughts wrapped in memories of the past andrevolving the problem of his future. Once Betty stood in the kitchendoor for fully a minute, watching him speculatively, and twice oldMalcolm passed him on the way to do some chore, eyeing him curiously. Calumet did not see either of them. 

Nor did he observe that the slinking form which he had observed movingamong the weeds on the distant hill in the valley had approached towithin twenty yards of him, was crouching in a corner of the corralfence, watching him with blazing, blood-shot eyes, its dull gray hairbristling, its white fangs bared in a snarl. 

It had been a long stalk, and the beast's jaws were slavering fromexertion. It watched, crouching and panting, for a favorable moment tomake the attack which it meditated. 

It had seen Calumet from the hill and had dropped down to the level, keeping out of sight behind the sagebrush and the clumps of mesquite, crossing the open places on its belly, stealing upon him silently andcunningly. So cautious had been its approach that old Malcolm had notseen it when fifteen minutes before he had passed Calumet and hadpaused for a look at him. The beast had been in a far corner of thefence then, and had slunk close to the ground until Malcolm had passed. Nor had Malcolm seen it just a moment before when he had crossed theranchhouse yard behind Calumet to go to the bunkhouse, where he wasnow. The instant Malcolm had disappeared within the bunkhouse, thebeast had stolen to its present position. 

The attack was swift and silent. Calumet was puffing abstractedly at acigarette when he became aware of a rush of air as the gray shapeflashed up from the ground. Calumet dodged involuntarily, throwing upan arm to fend off the shape, which catapulted past him, shoulder-high. The beast had aimed for his throat; his long fangs met the upthrust armand sank into it, crunching it to the bone. 

The force of the attack threw Calumet against the corral fence. Thebeast struck the ground beyond him noiselessly, its legs asprawl, itshair bristling from rage. Ten feet beyond Calumet the force of itsattack carried it, and it whirled swiftly, to leap again. 

But Calumet was not to be surprised the second time. Standing at thefence, his eyes ablaze with hatred and pain, he crouched. As the beastleaped Calumet's hand moved at his hip, his heavy six-shooter crashedspitefully, its roar reverberating among the buildings and startlingthe two gaunt horses in the corral to movement. The gray beastsnarled, crumpled midway in its leap, and dropped at Calumet's feet. Adark patch on its chest just below the throat showed where the bullethad gone. But apparently the bullet had missed a vital spot, for thebeast struggled to its feet, dragging itself toward Calumet, its fangsslashing impotently. 

Calumet stepped back a pace, his face malignant with rage and hate, hiseyes gleaming vengefully. He heard a scream from somewhere--a shrillprotest in a voice which he did not recognize, but he paid no attentionto it until he had deliberately emptied his six-shooter into the beast, putting the bullets where they would do the most good. When the weaponwas emptied and the beast lay prone in the dust at his feet, its greatjaws agape and dripping with blood-flecked foam, Calumet turned andlooked up. 

He saw Malcolm Clayton come out of the bunkhouse door, and noticedBetty running toward him from the ranchhouse. Betty's sleeves wererolled to the elbows, her apron fluttering the wind, and the thoughtstruck Calumet that she must have been washing dishes when interruptedby the shooting. But it was not she who had screamed--he would haverecognized her voice. Then he saw a huddled figure leaning against thecorner of the stable nearest the ranchhouse; the figure of a boy oftwelve or thirteen. He had a withered, mis-shapen leg--the right one;and under his right arm, partly supporting him, was a crude crutch. The boy was facing Calumet, and at the instant the latter saw him helooked up, his pale, thin face drawn and set, his eyes filled with anexpression of reproach and horror. 

He was not over fifteen feet distant from Calumet, and the latterwatched him with a growing curiosity until Betty ran to him and foldedhim into her arms. Then Calumet began to reload his six-shooter, ignoring Malcolm, who had come close to him and was standing beside thecorral fence, breathing heavily and trembling from excitement. 

"It's Lonesome!" gasped Malcolm, his lips quivering as he looked at thebeast; "Bob's Lonesome!"

Calumet flashed around at him, cursing savagely. 

"What you gettin' at, you damned old gopher?" he sneered. 

"It's Lonesome!" repeated Malcolm, his weather-lined face red withresentment and anger. He showed no fear of Calumet now, but came closeto him and stood rigid, his hands clenched. "It's Lonesome!" herepeated shrilly; "Bob's Lonesome!" And then, seeing from theexpression of Calumet's face that he did not comprehend, he added:"It's Bob's dog, Lonesome! Bob loved him so, an' now you've gone an'killed him--you--you hellhound! You--"

His quavering voice was cut short; once more his throat felt theterrible pressure of Calumet's iron fingers. For an instant he washeld at arm's length, shaken savagely, and in the next he was flungwith furious force against the corral fence, from whence he staggeredand fell into a corner. 

Calumet turned from him to confront Betty. Her eyes were ablaze, andone hand rested with unconscious affection on Bob's head as the boystood looking down at the body of the dog, sobbing quietly. Betty wastrying to keep her composure, but at her first words her voice trembled. 

"So you've killed Lonesome, " she said. Calumet had finished reloadinghis pistol, and he folded his arms over his chest, deliberatelyshielding the left, which Lonesome had bitten, thus hiding the redpatches that showed on the shirt sleeve over the wound. He would notgive Betty the satisfaction of seeing that he had been hurt. 

"Lonesome, " explained Betty, frigidly, "was a dog--he was Bob's dog. Bob loved him. I suppose you didn't know that--you couldn't haveknown. We believed him to be part wolf. Bob found him on the Lazettetrail, where he had evidently been left behind, probably forgotten, bysome traveler who had camped there. Bob brought him home and raisedhim. He has never been known to exhibit any vicious traits. You wereborn in the West, " she went on, "and ought to be able to tell thedifference between a dog and a wolf. Did you take Lonesome for a wolf?"

"I reckon, " sneered Calumet, determined not to be lectured by her, "that I've got to give a reason for everything I do around here. Evento killin' a damn dog!"

"Then, " she said with cold contempt, "you killed him in purewantonness?"

It was plain to Calumet that she was badly hurt over the dog's death. Certainly, despite her cold composure, she must be filled with rageagainst him for killing the animal. He might now have exhibited hisarm, to confound her with the evidence of his innocence of wantonness, and very probably she would have been instantly remorseful. But he hadno such intention; he was keenly alive to his opportunity to show herthat he was answerable to no one for his conduct. He enjoyed herchagrin; he was moved to internal mirth over her impotent wrath; hetook a savage delight in seeing her cringe from the evidence of hisapparent brutality. He grinned at her. 

"He's dead, ain't he?" he said. "An' I ain't makin' no excuses to you!"

She gave him a scornful glance and went over to Malcolm, who hadclambered to his feet and was crouching, his face working with passion. At the instant Betty reached him he was clawing at his six-shooter, trying to drag it from the holster. But Betty's hand closed over hisand he desisted. 

"Not that, grandpa, " she said quietly. "Shooting won't bring Lonesomeback. Besides"--she turned toward Calumet and saw the cold grin on hisface as his right hand dropped to his hip in silent preparation forMalcolm's menacing movement--"don't you see that he would shoot you ashe shot Lonesome? He just can't help being a brute!"

She turned her back to Calumet and spoke in a low voice to hergrandfather, smoothing his hair, patting his shoulders--calming himwith all a woman's gentle artifices. And Calumet stood watching her, marveling at her self-control, feeling again that queer, thrillingsensation of reluctant admiration. 

He had forgotten Bob. Betty had left the boy standing alone when shehad gone over to Malcolm, and Bob had hobbled forward when Calumet hadturned to follow the girl's movements, so that now he stood just behindCalumet. The latter became aware of the boy's presence when the latterseized his left hand from behind, and he turned with a snarl, hissix-shooter half drawn, to confront the boy, whose grip on the hand hadnot been loosened. Calumet drew the hand fiercely away, overturningBob so that he fell sprawling into the dust at his feet. The youngsterwas up again before Betty and Malcolm could reach him, hobbling towardCalumet, his thin face working from excitement, his big eyes alightover the discovery he had made. 

"He didn't kill Lonesome because he is mean, Betty!" he shrilled; "Iknew he didn't! Look at his arm, Betty! It's all bloody! Lonesomebit him!"

In spite of Calumet's efforts to avoid him, the boy again seized thearm, holding it out so that Betty and Malcolm could see the patches onthe sleeve and the thin red streak that had crawled down over the backof his hand and was dripping from the finger tips. 

Malcolm halted in his advance on Calumet and stealthily sheathed hisweapon. Betty, too, had stopped, a sudden wave of color overspreadingher face, the picture of embarrassment and astonishment. 

"Why didn't you tell us?" she asked accusingly; "it would have saved--"

"Saved you from makin' a fool of yourself, " interrupted Calumet. "Youcertainly did prove that I'm a mighty mean man, " he added, mockingly. "I didn't tell you because it's none of your business. It's only ascratch, but I ain't lettin' no damned animal chaw me up an' get awaywith it. " He drew the hand away from the boy and placed it behind himso that Betty could not look at it, which she had been doing until now, with wide, frightened eyes. She came forward when he placed the handbehind him, and stood close to him, determination in her manner. 

"I want to see how badly you have been bitten, " she said. 

"Go finish washin' your dishes, " he advised, with a sneer. "That'swhere you belong. Until you an' your bunch butted in with your palaverI was enjoyin' myself. You drive me plumb weary. "

Betty faced him resolutely, though now there was contrition in hermanner, in her voice. She spoke firmly. 

"I am sorry for what I said to you before--about Lonesome. I thoughtyou had killed him just to be mean, to hurt me. I will try to makeamends. If you will come into the house I will dress your arm--it mustbe badly injured. "

Calumet's lips curled, then straightened, and he looked down at herwith steady hostility. 

"I ain't got no truck with you at all, " he said. "When I'm figgerin'on lettin' you paw over me I'll let you know. " He turned shortly andwalked over to the door of the stable, where he fumbled at thefastenings, presently swinging the door open and vanishing inside. Five minutes later, when he came out with the pony saddled and bridled, he found that Betty and Malcolm had gone. But Bob stood over the deadbody of Lonesome, silently weeping. 

For a moment, standing beside his pony, Calumet watched the boy, and ashe stood a queer pallor overspread his face and his lips tightenedoddly. For something in the boy's appearance, in the idea of hisexhibition of grief over his dog, which Malcolm had said he loved, smote Calumet's heart. As he continued to watch, his set lips movedstrangely, and his eyes glittered with a light that they had not yetknown. Twice he started toward the boy, and twice he changed his mindand returned to his pony to continue his vigil. The boy was unaware ofhis presence. 

The third time Calumet reached his side, and the big rough palm of hisright hand was laid gently on the boy's head. 

"I reckon I'm sorry, you damned little cuss, " he said huskily as theyoungster looked up into his face. "If I'd have knowed that he wasyour dog I'd have let him chaw my arm off before I'd have shot him. "

The boy's eyes glowed with gratitude. Then they sought the body ofLonesome. When he looked up again Calumet was on his pony, ridingslowly past the bunkhouse. The boy watched him until he rode far outinto the valley. 

CHAPTER VII

A PAGE FROM THE PAST

Darkness had fallen when Calumet returned to the Lazy Y. He had passedthe day riding over the familiar ranges, returning to almost forgottenspots, reviving the life of his youth and finding the memories irksome. He was in no pleasant frame of mind when he rode in, and he disdainedthe use of the corral or the stable, staking his horse out in thepasture, remembering the scant supply of grain in the bin in thestable, and telling himself that "them two skates"--referring to thehorses he had seen in the corral--"need it worse than Blackleg, " hisown pony. 

After staking Blackleg out, he took the saddle and bridle from theanimal and stalked toward the ranchhouse. A light burned on thekitchen table. He saw it from a distance and resisted an impulse toenter the house from the kitchen, walking, instead, around to thefront, where he found the door to the office unbarred. He threw thesaddle into a corner, lighted the candle that still stood on the deskwhere he had placed it the night before, and stood for a long time inits glare, examining the ragged gashes on his arm. Twice during theday he had washed the wounds with water secured from the river, bindingthe arm with a handkerchief; but he noted with a scowl that the arm wasswollen and the wound inflamed. He finally rewound the bandage, tieingthe ends securely. Then he stood erect beside the desk, listening andundecided. 

No sound reached his ears. The Claytons, he assured himself, must haveretired. 

He walked over to the sofa and sat upon it, frowning. He was hungry, having been without food since morning, and he found himself wonderingif he might not find food in the kitchen. Obeying an impulse, he gotup from the sofa and went to the door through which Betty had enteredthe night before, noting that it was still barred as he had left itthat morning. He carefully removed the fastenings and swung the dooropen, intending to go into the kitchen. He halted on the threshold, however, for beside a table in the dining room, in the feeble glare ofa light that stood at her elbow, sat Betty, reading a book. 

She looked up as the door opened, betraying no surprise, smilingmildly, and speaking as she might have spoken had she been addressing afriend. 

"Won't you come in?"

She placed the book down, sticking a piece of paper between the leavesto mark her place, and stood up. 

"I have been waiting for you. I heard you come in. I expected you forsupper, and when you didn't come I saved yours. If you will come outinto the kitchen I will get it for you. "

Calumet did not move. Had Betty shown the slightest dismay orperturbation at sight of him he would not have hesitated an instant inwalking past her to get the food which she had said was in the kitchen. But her easy unconcern, her cool assumption of proprietorship, arousedin him that obstinacy which the revelation of her power over him hadbrought into being. He did not purpose to allow her to lead him toanything. 

"I don't reckon I'll grub, " he said. 

"Then of course you have been to Lazette, " she returned. "You haddinner there. "

"Look here, " he said truculently; "does it make any difference to youwhere I've been or what I've done?"

"Perhaps it really doesn't make any difference, " she answered calmly;"but of course I am interested. I don't want you to starve. "

His face expressed disgust. "Holy smoke!" he said; "I reckon I ain'tman enough to take care of myself!"

"I don't think that is the question. Can't we get at it in the properspirit? You belong here; you have a right to be here. And I am herebecause your father wanted me to stay. I want you to feel that you areat home, and I don't want to be continually quarreling with you. Bemean and stubborn if you want to--I suppose you can't help that. Butso long as conditions are as they are, let us try to make the best ofthem. Even if you don't like me, even if you resent my presence here, you can at least act more like a human being and less like a wild man. Why, " she continued, with a dry laugh, "just now you spoke of being aman, and this morning after you killed Lonesome you acted like a big, over-grown boy. You had your arm hurt and refused to allow me to dressit. Did you think I wanted to poison you?"

"What I thought this morning is my business, " returned Calumet gruffly. Betty's voice had been quietly conversational, but it had carried asubtle sting with its direct mockery, and Calumet felt again as he hadfelt the night before, like an unruly scholar being rebuked by histeacher. Last night, though, the situation had been a novel one; nowthe thought that she was laughing at him, taunting him, filled him withrage. 

"Mebbe you'll be interested in knowin' what I think right now, " hesaid. "It's this: you've got a bad case of swelled head. You're oneof them kind of female critters which want to run things their own way. You're--"

Her laugh interrupted him. "We won't argue that again, if you please. If you remember, you had something to say on that subject last night, and I want you to know that I haven't the slightest desire to hear youropinion of me. Won't you sit down?" She invited again, motioning to achair beside the table, opposite hers. "If you absolutely refuse toeat, I presume there is no help for it, though even if you had dinnerin Lazette you must be hungry now, for a ride of twenty miles is astrict guarantee of appetite. Please sit down. There is something Iwant to give you, something your father left for you. He told me tohave you read it as soon as you came. "

She stood motionless until Calumet left the door and seated himself inthe chair beside the table, and then she went out of the room; he couldhear her steps on the stairs. She returned quickly and laid a bulkyenvelope on the table beside him. 

"Here it is, " she said. 

As Calumet took up the envelope and tore it open she dropped into theother chair, took up her book, opened it, and settled herself to read. Calumet watched her covertly for a moment, and then gave his attentionto the contents of the envelope. 

There were a number of sheets of paper on which Calumet recognized hisfather's handwriting. 

"MY SON:--Feeling that I am about to die, it is my desire to do what Ican toward setting things right between us. Betty Clayton will tellyou that I have repented of my treatment of you, but she cannot tellyou how deep is the realization of the injury I have done you throughmy inhuman attitude toward you. I fear that I have ruined yourcharacter and that it may be too late to save you from those passionswhich, if not checked, will spoil your life. 

"I know that children sometimes inherit the evil that has abided withtheir parents, and I am certain that you have inherited mine, becausewhile you stayed at home I saw many evidences of it, aye, I used todelight in its manifestation. Toward the end of your stay at home Igrew to hate you. But it was because of that woman. If ever there wasan evil spirit in the guise of a human being, it was she. She--well, you will learn more of her later. 

"I am going to try at this late day to repair the damage I did you. Ihave come to the conclusion that the surest way to do this is to forceyou to give me in death that respect and veneration which you refusedme while I lived. You see that, in spite of my boasted repentance, Istill have left a spark of satanic irony, and I do not expect you tobelieve me when I tell you that I have planned this for your own good. But it seems to me that if you can exhibit respect for the one who isdirectly responsible for your cursed passions you will be able togovern them on all occasions. That is my conviction, and if you do notagree with me there is no hope for you. 

"Betty Clayton will tell you the conditions, and she will be yourjudge. I believe in Betty, and if you do not see that she is atrue-blue girl you are more of a fool than I think you are. "

At this point Calumet glanced sidelong at Betty, but she seemedengrossed in her book, and he resumed reading. 

"That is all I have to say on that subject. You will have to look toBetty for additions. By this time, if she has carried out my wishes, she has told you what you may expect. I have told her the story whichI am going to tell you, and I am certain that when you have finished ityou will see that I am not entirely to blame. You will see, too, whathavoc Tom Taggart has wrought in my life; why he has tried many timesto kill me. Calumet, beware of the Taggarts! For the last five yearsthey have been a constant menace to me; I have been forced to be on myguard against them day and night. They have hounded me, induced my mento betray me. In five years I have not slept soundly because of them. But I have foiled them. I am dying now, and that which they seek willbe hidden until you fulfill the conditions which I impose on you. Iknow you are coming home--I can feel it--and I know that when you readwhat is to follow you will be eager to square my account with TomTaggart. 

"Before going any further, before you read my story, I want you to knowthat the cursed virago whom you saw buried in the cottonwood was notyour real mother. Your mother died giving you birth, and her body liesin a quiet spot beside the Rio Pecos, at Twin Pine crossing, about tenmiles north of the Texas border. God rest her. "

Again Calumet glanced at Betty. She was reading, apparentlyunconscious of him, and without disturbing her Calumet laid down thefinished page and took up another. 

CHAPTER VIII

THE TOLTEC IDOL

"I was twenty-five when your mother died, " this page began. "I had alittle ranch in the Pecos valley near Twin Pine crossing, and I hadjust begun to taste prosperity. After your mother died things began togo wrong. It didn't take me long to conclude that she had beenresponsible for what success I had had, and that without her I couldn'thope to keep things together. I didn't try very hard; I'll admit that. I just gradually let go all holds and began to slip--began to driftback into the sort of company I'd kept before I met your mother. Theywere not bad fellows, you understand--just the rakehelly, reckless sortthat keep hanging on to the edge of things and making a living by theirwits. I'd come West without any definite idea of what I wanted to do, and I fell in with these men naturally and easily, because they were ofmy type. 

"I had three intimates among them--a tall, clean-limbed fellow with thebluest and steadiest eyes I ever saw in a man, who called himself'Nebraska'; a rangy Texan named Quint Taylor, who maintained thatmanual labor was a curse and quoted the Scriptures to prove it; and TomTaggart. Tom and I were thick. I liked him, and he'd done things forme that seemed to prove that he thought a lot of me. He didn't like ita little bit when I married your mother--her name was Mary Lannon, andI'd got acquainted with her while riding for a few months for herfather, who owned a ranch near Eagle Pass, close to the Rio Grande. She was white, boy, and so were her folks, and you can be proud of her. And if she had lived you could be proud of me--she'd have kept onmaking me a man. 

"Taggart didn't like the idea of me getting hooked up. He didn't wantto break up the old associations. He and the others hung around for ayear, waiting for something to turn up, and when your mother died itwasn't long before I was back with them. I left you in care of JaneConnor--her husband, Dave, owned the Diamond Dot ranch, which adjoinedmine. 

"During the year the boys had been knocking around without me they'dfallen in with an Indian from Yucatan, from the tribe called theToltecs. This Indian called himself Queza--he'd been exiled because hewas too lazy to work. The boys got him drunk one night, and he blabbedeverything he knew about his tribe--how rich it was; how they'ddiscovered a diamond mine, and that gold was so common that they usedit to make household ornaments. His story got the boys excited andthey pumped him dry. They found out where his tribe lived, how to getthere, and all that. 

"Queza told them that the diamonds wouldn't be hard to get, that therewere altar idols and ornaments in a big cave which was hollowed out ofthe face of a rock cliff, and that there was a bridge over to it, andthat the cave wasn't guarded because the tribe had a superstitious fearof the priests who had charge of the idols and things, and that thepeople didn't care for gold and diamonds, anyway, because they were socommon. 

"The boys had got all this out of Queza about a month before I sold outand joined them, and they'd rustled some money somewhere, and hadeverything fixed up to go to Yucatan to bring home some of that goldand diamonds. They wanted me to go along. I was in that frame of mindin which I didn't care much about what happened to me, and they didn'thave to argue long. We dropped down the Rio Grande to a little placeon the Gulf coast near where Brownsville is now. We bought a littleboat from a fisherman--she wasn't more than thirty feet long and didn'tlook like she could stand much weather; but Nebraska, who'd told usthat he'd done a little sailing on the California coast when he was alot younger than he was then, said she'd stand anything we was likelyto get in the Gulf. So we stocked her with provisions and water tolast a month or so, and Nebraska pointed her nose toward Yucatan. 

"I didn't think then what a rank job it was that we were going to do, but it won't do me any harm in your eyes to say that after we'd gotstarted and I began to realize what it all meant, I was ashamed. Ifelt like a sneak and a coward all through the deal, but I couldn'tback out after I'd started, and so I went through with it. 

"We run into a spell of bad weather and had to hug the coast mightyclose, and it was two weeks before we pulled into Campeche Bay, on thenorthwest coast of Yucatan. We worked the boat about half a mile up alittle creek four or five miles south of Campeche, and worked half aday hiding her, so that she'd be there when we got back. Then, takingwhat grub was left, we struck out for the interior. It won't be anyuse telling you about that journey--you couldn't imagine, and Icouldn't begin to tell you, what a miserable, slow, tortuous affair itwas. It gets hot in New Mexico, but we got a taste of hell in thatYucatan jungle. That country wasn't built for a white man. 

"So I'm not going to try to tell you about the trip. We were tough andeager, and we stuck it out, traveling mostly by night, setting ourcourse by the stars, about which I knew something. But we were a weekgoing a hundred miles, and we were beginning to get into that frame ofmind where we were noticing one another's faults and getting not a bitbackward in talking about them, when one night at dusk we got a glimpseof the place we were looking for. 

"Queza had called the place a town, and maybe that name fits it as wellas another. It made me dizzy to look at it. We'd been climbing theslope of a mountain all afternoon--traveling in the daytime now, because we were getting near the end of our journey--Nebraska in thelead, the rest trailing him. We saw Nebraska stop and duck back intosome brush. Then we all sneaked up to him and got our first look atthe town. 

"It looked to me as though the place had been made to hide in. Themountain dropped away below us, straight down about a hundred feet, asmooth rock wall. Another wall of rock joined it on the right, makinga big L. There was a level that began at the two walls and extendedboth ways for probably half a mile, until it met the slope of the otherside of the mountain. It was nothing but two shoulders, joined, on thetop of the mountain. 

"Just below us there was a break in the level--a wide gash about fiftyfeet across, so deep that we couldn't see the bottom. There was aledge on our side about three or four feet wide, and a bridge stretchedfrom it across the canyon. We decided that the bridge was the oneQueza had told the boys about--it led to the cave where the treasurewas kept. We laid there for an hour, watching. The buildings were allhuddled together--a lot of flat, brown adobe houses. We could see thenatives moving down among them, but none of us noticed anything unusualgoing on until Taggart calls our attention. 

"'Did you notice?' he said. 

"'Notice what?' we all answered. 

"'That they're all women down there--I ain't seen a man!'

"That was a fact. There didn't seem to be a man anywhere about. Wetalked it over and concluded that we'd got there at a most advantageoustime. We decided that the men were away, on a hunt, most probably, andafter we'd watched a while longer we decided that we'd sneak down someway and go after the treasure about midnight. We figured they'd all besleeping about that time. After dark they lit fires and sat aroundthem. 

"We watched until about eleven--until we saw that nearly all the fireshad gone out--and then we sneaked down the slope of the mountain. Wedidn't make any noise; we were silent and slippery as ghosts as we madeour way through the timber on the slope. It was slow work, though; thewoods were full of tangled vines and prickly bushes, and we got clawedup considerable and had all we could do to keep from cussing out loudwhen a thorn or something would rip a cheek open. It was blacker thanany night I've ever seen before or since; we couldn't see a foot ahead, and the sounds we heard in the woods didn't make us feel any toocomfortable, for all we'd got used to living in the open. We knew, ofcourse, that the sounds came from birds and bats and moths and such, but when a man is out on a job like that his nerves are not what theyare at other times--every sound seems unusual and magnified. I didn'tlike so much silence from the village down below us--it seemed tooquiet; and it appeared to me that the noises we heard in the woods weremost too continuous to be caused by only us four. We went in singlefile, one man almost touching the other, to be sure we'd all staytogether. I'd hear a bird go whizzing away at a distance, and itappeared to me that there was no call for it to light out with us twoor three hundred feet away from it; and then there were queer noiseswhich I couldn't just place as coming from birds. I don't know why Inoticed these things, but I did, just the same, though I didn't sayanything to the other boys, because they'd probably thought I waslosing my nerve. And, besides, there wasn't time to talk. 

"It took us more than an hour to reach the level where the village was, and it was long after midnight when we, keeping in the shadow of thecliff, started toward the bridge over the canyon, which led to the cavewhere we thought we'd find the treasure. 

"We'd got pretty near the bridge, Taggart and me in the lead, Nebraskaand Taylor stringing along behind, when I heard a sudden scuffling andlooked around. It wasn't so dark on the level as it had been in thewoods, and I saw a dozen dark figures grouped around Nebraska andTaylor. The dark figures were all about us, and more were coming fromthe huts, all yelling like devils. And they were men, too; they'd beenhiding in the huts; they'd discovered us the day before and suspectedwhat we came for. I found that out later. 

"Well, for a few minutes there was plenty of excitement. Taylor andNebraska had got pretty well behind us, and the Toltecs had cut themoff. Taggart showed yellow. I started back to help Nebraska andTaylor, who had their knives out--I could see them shining--whenTaggart grabbed me. 

"'Let's run for the bridge, you fool!' he said. 'It's every man forhimself now!'

"While I was scuffling with Taggart, trying to get away from him andget back to the boys, a figure detached itself from the bunch aroundthem and came flying toward us. It was a woman, I could see that in aninstant. Taggart saw her coming, too; he must have known it was awoman, but he pulled out his knife, and when she came close enough tous he drove at her with it. He missed her because I shoved him away. He fell, and, while he was on the ground, the woman--or girl, becauseshe wasn't more than eighteen or nineteen--grabbed me by the arm andjabbered to me in Spanish, of which I'd learned a little. 

"'They're going to kill all of you!' she said. 'They've been watchingyou for two days. They left me to watch you yesterday. I don't wantthem to kill you--I like you! Come!'

"She pulled at me, trying to drag me toward the bridge. I didn't haveany objections to her liking me as much as she pleased, for she was abeauty--I found that out afterward, of course; but though I couldn'tsee her face very well just them, I liked her voice and knew she mustbe good to look at. But I didn't like the idea of leaving the otherboys, and told her so. 

"'You'll all be killed, anyway, ' she said, all excited. 'They might aswell die now as later. They'll kill you, too, if you go back!'

"That was logic, all right, but I'd have gone back anyway if I hadn'theard Nebraska and Taylor working their guns just then. The Toltecsbroke and scattered--some of them. Three or four of them couldn'tafter the boys began to shoot. Soon as the Toltecs broke away alittle, Nebraska and Taylor made for where we stood. I saw them comingand told the girl to lead us. The three of us--the girl, Taggart, andme--got to the bridge, which was a light, flimsy, narrow affair made oftwo long, straight saplings lashed together with vines, with a coupleof strips of bark for a bottom--and crossed it. Then we stood on theledge in front of the mouth of the cave, watching Nebraska and Taylor. They were coming for all they were worth, shooting as they ran andkeeping the bunch of Toltecs at a respectable distance, though theToltecs were running parallel with them, trying to bring them down witharrows. 

"Nebraska and Taylor made the bridge. They had got about half way overwhen a dozen or so of the Toltecs threw themselves at the end of thebridge which rested on the village side of the canyon, grabbed hold ofit, and pulled it off the ledge on our side. I yelled to the boys andjumped for the end of the bridge. But I was too late. The bridgebalanced for an instant, and then the end on which the boys werestanding started to sink. Nebraska saw what was coming, off and jumpedfor the ledge on which we were standing. He missed it by five feet. There wasn't a sound from his lips as he shot down into the awfulblackness of the canyon. I got sick and dizzy, but not so sick that Icouldn't see what was happening to Taylor. Taylor didn't jump for theledge. He turned like a cat and grabbed a rail of the bridge, tryingto climb back to the level. He'd have made it, too, but the Toltecswouldn't let him. They jabbed at him with their spears and arrows andthrew knives at him. One of the knives struck him in the shoulder, andwhen I heard him scream I pulled my guns and began to shoot across thecanyon. I hadn't thought of it before; there are times when a man'sbrain refuses to work like he'd like to have it. But the Toltecsdidn't mind the shooting a little bit. 

"Three or four of them got hit and backed away from the edge of thecanyon, but there were enough others to do what they were trying to do, and they did it. I stood there, helpless, and saw them shove Tayloroff the bridge with their spears. When he finally let go and wentturning over and over down into the black hole, my whole insides fannedup into my throat. That sensation has never left me; I wake up nightsseeing Taylor as he let go of the bridge, watching him sink, tumblingover and over into that black gash, and I get sick and dizzy just as Idid that night. 

"But just then I didn't have much of a chance to be sick long. While Iwas standing there wondering what to do I saw a Toltec priest come outof the cave. He had a spear in his hand and was sneaking up onTaggart--who stood there almost fainting from fright. There was murderin the priest's eyes; I saw it and bent my gun on him. The triggersnapped on dead cartridges, and I yanked out my knife. I'd have beentoo late, at that. But the girl saw the priest, and she dodged behindhim and gave him a shove. He pitched out and went head first down intothe canyon. 

"The Toltecs on the other side were watching, and they saw the priestgo. Until now they hadn't shot at us, probably afraid of hitting thegirl, but when they saw her push the priest over the edge of the canyonthey saw that her sympathies were with us, and they let drive at uswith their arrows. We were all slightly wounded--not enough tomention--and we got back into the cave where their arrows couldn'treach us. Three or four times the Toltecs tried to swing the bridgeback into position, but they couldn't make it because there was no oneon our side to help them, and Taggart and me made things mightyunpleasant for them with our sixes. They finally went away and held acouncil of war, which seemed to leave them undecided. They evidentlyhadn't figured on the girl turning traitor. If she hadn't they'd havegot me and Taggart in short order. 

"We'd got where the treasure was, all right, but it was a mighty badoutlook for us. We were kind of anxious about the bridge, being afraidthe Toltecs would get it back into place; but the girl, who calledherself Ezela, showed us that getting the bridge back wasn't possiblewithout help from our side. She said that the priest she'd dumped downinto the canyon was the only one with the tribe at the time; the othershad gone to a distant village. She said, too, that there was a secretpassage from the cave; she'd discovered it, and no one but her and thepriests knew anything about it, but that the Toltecs would send runnersfor the priests and we'd have to get out before they came, or they'dlay for us at the outlet. 

"Well, we hustled. We felt bad about Nebraska and Taylor, and weredetermined not to leave without some of the treasure, and after Ezelashowed us where it was I kept her busy talking while Taggart got aboutas much as he could carry. Ezela offered no objections; on the otherhand, when Taggart came back she told me to get some of the treasuretoo. Taggart hadn't taken enough to miss; there were millions ofdollars' worth of gold and diamonds in the room, where they'd raised akind of an altar, and I had my choice. 

"I took some of the gold, but what attracted me--not because it waspretty, but because I saw in a minute that it was valuable--was ahideous image about six inches high. I had had an idea all along thatQueza had been lying about the diamonds, but when I saw the image Iknew he'd told the truth. There were about a hundred diamonds on theimage, stuck all around it, the image itself being gold. The diamondsran from a carat to seven or eight carats, and there was no questionabout them being the real thing. I stuck the thing into a hip pocket, figuring that with the few other ornaments I had I would have plenty tocarry. Then I went back to where Ezela and Taggart were waiting for me. 

"Ezela led us through a long, narrow passage, down some steps toanother passage, and pretty soon we were sneaking along this and Ibegan to get a whiff of fresh air. In a little while we foundourselves on a narrow ledge in the canyon, about thirty or forty feetbelow the level where the bridge had been, and it was so dark downthere that we couldn't see one another. 

"Ezela whispered to us to follow her, and to be careful. We had to becareful, and after what had happened, crawling along that ledge wasn'tthe most cheerful job in the world. It would have been a ticklishthing to do in the daytime, but at night it was a thousand times worse. I kept thinking about poor Taylor and Nebraska, and there were timeswhen I felt that I just had to yell and jump out into the black holearound us. Taggart showed it worse than me. It took us an hour totraverse that ledge. We'd strike a short turn where there wouldn't bemore than six or eight inches of ledge between us and eternity, and wecouldn't see a thing--I've thought since that maybe it was a good thingwe couldn't. But we could feel the width of the ledge with our feet, and there were times when my legs shook under me like I had the ague. Taggart was pretty near collapse all the time. He kept mumbling tohimself, making queer little throaty noises and grabbing at me. Two orthree times I had to turn and talk to him, or he'd have let go allholds and jumped. 

"We finally made solid ground, and it was a full hour before me orTaggart could get up after we'd sat down, we were that tuckered out. The girl didn't seem to mind it a bit; she told me she'd discovered thesecret passage that way. She'd been nosing around the mountain one dayand had crept along the edge, finding that it led to the treasure cave. 

"There wasn't any time lost by us in getting away from that place. Ezela told us there wasn't any use hoping that Nebraska and Taylor werealive, because the canyon was over a thousand feet deep and there was aroaring river at the bottom. I don't like to think of that fall. 

"Taggart objected to Ezela going with us, but I couldn't think ofletting her stay to be punished by her tribe for what she'ddone--they'd have burned her, sure, she said. Besides, I may as welltell the truth, I'd got to liking Ezela a good bit by this time. Shewas good to look at, and she'd been hanging around me, telling me thatshe wanted to go with us, and that she'd done what she had for my sake, because she liked me. All that sort of stuff plays on a man's vanitywhen it comes from a pretty girl, and it didn't take me long to decidethat I was in love with her and that, aside from humane reasons, Iought to take her with me. So I took her. 

"We reached the boat after a week of heart-breaking travel, and wehadn't got over two miles out in the bay when we saw that we hadn'tleft any too soon. A hundred or so Toltecs were on the beach, doing awar dance and waving their spears at us. We had a pretty close call ofit for grub, but we made a little town on the gulf and stocked up, andthen we headed for the mouth of the Rio Grande. We camped one night aweek later on United States soil, and that night while I was asleepTaggart tried to knife me. I'd showed Taggart the diamond image oneday while Ezela was asleep in the boat, and he'd got greedy for it. Ezela screamed when she saw him getting close to me with the knife, andI woke in time to grab him before he got a chance to get the knife intome. He finally broke away, leaving all the treasure he'd broughtexcept a little that he had in his pockets--he'd had a bundle of itstrapped to his belt besides that--and I didn't see him again for fouryears. 

"I took Ezela up the Pecos to the Connors', where I'd left you, boughta wagon and horses and a few things--bedding and grub and suchstuff--and lit out for New Mexico. I figured that I had enough of thekind of friends I'd been keeping, and I didn't want to be ridiculed fortying up to an Indian girl--white folks don't like to see that. I camehere and took up this land, figuring that I wouldn't be disturbed. I'dbeen here four years when Taggart came. I'd sold some of the treasure, but, for some reason which I've never been able to figure out, I keptthe idol. I think I was afraid to try to sell it on account of the bigdiamonds in it. 

"I gave Taggart the treasure he'd left behind the night he tried toknife me, but he wasn't satisfied; he wanted more, wanted me to sellthe Toltec image and split with him. Of course I wouldn't do thatbecause of the way he'd acted, and he swore to get it some day. 

"He took up some land about fifteen miles down the river, and he'sstayed there ever since. I've been afraid to go anywhere with the idolfor fear he'd waylay me and get it. One day while I was away somewherehe came here and told Ezela about me having the idol. From that timeon I led a life of hell. Ezela turned on me. She said I'd desecratedthe altars of her tribe, and she kept harping to me about it until Igot so I couldn't bear the sight of her. 

"I discovered soon after we came here that I had been mistaken inthinking I had loved her--what I had thought was love was merelygratitude. My gratitude didn't last, of course, with her hounding mecontinually about the idol. Finally I discovered that she and Taggartwere plotting against me. Of course, Taggart was after the imagehimself. He didn't care anything about her religious scruples, but hemade her believe he sympathized with her, and made a fool of her. Itried to kill Taggart the day I found that out, but he got away, andafter that he never traveled alone and I didn't get another chance. Iordered Ezela away, but she said she wouldn't go until she got theimage. Many times I debated the idea of putting her out of the way, but there was always the knowledge in my mind that she had saved mylife, and I hadn't the heart to do it. 

"You know how we lived. My life was constantly in danger, and I becamehardened, suspicious, brutal. You got the whole accumulation. Taggartand Ezela bribed my men to watch me. I had to discharge them. AfterEzela died I thought Taggart would leave me alone. But he didn't--hewanted the image. One day he and his boy Neal came over and ambushedme. They shot me in the shoulder. I was in the house, defendingmyself as best I could, when Malcolm Clayton came. By this time Bettyhas told you the rest and you know just what you can expect from theTaggarts. 

"That is the whole history of the Toltec idol. I am not proud of mypart in the affair, but Tom Taggart must never have the idol. Rememberthat! I don't want him to have it! Neither do I want you to have it, or the money I leave, unless you can show that you forgive me. As Ihave said, I don't take your word for it--you must prove it. 

"I know you are coming home, and I wish I could live to see you. But Iknow I won't. Don't be too hard on me. Your father, "JAMES MARSTON. "

CHAPTER IX

RESPONSIBILITY

For a long time after he had completed the reading of the letter, Calumet was silent, staring straight ahead of him. The informationcontained in the account of his father's adventures was soothing--thetermagant who had presided over his boyhood destinies had not been hisreal mother, and his father had left him a score to settle. He alreadyhated the Taggarts, not particularly because they were his father'senemies, but rather because Tom Taggart had been a traitor. He felt acontempt for him. He himself was mean and vicious--he knew that. Buthe had never betrayed a friend. It was better to have no friend thanto have one and betray him. He looked around to see that Betty wasstill apparently absorbed in her book. 

"Do you know what is in this letter?" he said. 

She laid the book in her lap and nodded affirmatively. 

"You opened it, I suppose?" he sneered. 

"No, " she returned, unmoved. "Your father read it to me. "

"Kind of him, wasn't it? What do you think of it?"

"What I think isn't important. What do you think of it?"

"Nosey, eh?" he jeered. "If it won't inconvenience you any, I'll keepwhat I think of it to myself. But it's plain to me now that when youcaught me tryin' to guzzle your granddad you thought I belonged to theTaggart bunch. You told me I'd have to try again--or somethin' likethat. I reckon you thought I was after the idol?"

"Yes. "

"Then the Taggarts have tried to get it since you've been here?"

"Many times. "

"But you left the front door open the night I came, " insinuatedCalumet, his eyes glowing subtly. "That looks like you was invitin'someone to come in an' get the idol. "

"We never bother much about barring the doors. Besides, I don'tremember to have told you that the idol is in the house, " she smiled. 

He looked at her with a baffled sneer. "Foxy, ain't you?" He foldedthe letter and placed it into a pocket, she watching him silently. Hergaze fell on the injured arm; she saw the angry red streaks spreadingfrom beneath the crude bandage and she got up, laying her book down andregarding him with determined eyes. 

"Please come out into the kitchen with me, " she said; "I am going totake care of your arm. "

He looked up at her with a glance of cold mockery. "When did you getmy permission to take care of it? It don't need any carin' for. An'if it did, I reckon to be able to do my own doctorin'. "

She looked at him steadily and something in her gaze made him feeluncomfortable. 

"Don't be silly, " she said. She turned and went out into the kitchen. He could hear her working over the stove. He saw her cross the roomwith a tea kettle, fill it with water from a pail, return and place thekettle on the stove. He was determined that he would not allow her todress the wound, but when ten minutes later she appeared in the kitchendoor and told him she was ready, he got up and went reluctantly out. 

She washed the arm, bathing the wound with a solution of water and somemedicine which she poured from a bottle, and then bandaged it with somewhite cloth. Neither said anything until after she had delicately tieda string around the bandage to keep it in place, and then she steppedback and regarded her work with satisfaction. 

"There, " she said; "doesn't that feel better?"

"Some, " he returned, grudgingly. He stood up and watched her while shespread a cloth partly over the table and placed some dishes and foodupon it. He was hungry, and the sight of the food made him feelsuddenly ravenous. He watched her covertly, noting her matter-of-factmovements. It was as though she had not the slightest idea that hewould refuse to eat, and he felt certain that he could not refuse. Shewas making him feel uncomfortable again; that epithet, "silly, " rankledin him and he did not want to hear her apply it to him again. But hewould have risked it had she looked at him. She did not look at him. When she had finally arranged everything to suit her taste she turnedher back and walked to the door of the dining-room. 

"There is your supper, " she said quietly. "I have fixed up your roomfor you--the room you occupied before you left home. I am going toleave the light burning in the dining-room--you might want to read yourletter again. Blow the light out when you go to bed. Good night. "

He grumbled an incoherent reply, turning his back to her. Her calm, unruffled acceptance of his incivility filled him with a coldresentment. 

"What did you say?" she demanded of him from the door. 

He turned sullenly. The light mockery in her voice stung him, shamedhim--her eyes, dancing with mischief, held his. 

"Good night, " he said shortly. 

"Good night, " she said again. She laughed and vanished. 

For an instant Calumet stood, scowling at the vacant doorway. Then heturned and went over to the table in the kitchen, looking down at thefood and the dishes. She had compelled him to be civil. He grippedone end of the table cloth, and for an instant it seemed as though hemeditated dumping dishes and food upon the floor. Then he grinned, grimly amused, and sat in the chair before the table, taking up knifeand fork. 

Early as he arose the next morning, he found that Betty had been beforehim. He saw her standing on the rear porch when he went out to carefor his horse, and she smiled and called a greeting to him, which heanswered soberly. 

For some reason which he could not explain he felt a little reluctancetoward going into the kitchen for breakfast this morning. Yet he didgo, though he waited outside until Betty came to the door and calledhim. He was pretending to be busy at his saddle, though he knew thiswas a pretext to cover his submission to her. He did not move towardthe house until she vanished within it. 

He was quiet during the meal, wondering at the change that had comeover him, for he felt a strange resignation. He told himself that itwas gratitude for her action in caring for his injured arm, and yet hewatched her narrowly for any sign that would tell him that she wasaware of his thoughts and was enjoying him. But he was able todetermine nothing from her face, for though she smiled often there wasnothing in her face at which he could take offense. She devoted muchof her time and attention to Bob. And Bob talked to Calumet. Therewas something about the boy that attracted Calumet, and before the mealended they were conversing companionably. But toward the conclusion ofthe meal, when in answer to something Bob said to him he smiled at theboy, he saw Betty looking at him with a glance of mingled astonishmentand pleasure, he sobered and ceased talking. He didn't want to doanything to please Betty. 

He was saddling Blackleg after breakfast, intending to go down theriver a short distance, when he became aware that Betty was standingnear him. Without a word she handed him a bulky envelope with his namewritten on it. He took it, tore open an end, and a piece of paper, enclosing several bills, slipped out. He shot a quick glance at Betty;she was looking at him unconcernedly. He counted the bills; there wereten one hundred dollar gold certificates. 

"What's this for?" he demanded. 

"Read the letter, " she directed. 

He unfolded the paper. It read:

"MY DEAR SON: The money in this envelope is to be used by you in buyingmaterial to be used to repair the ranchhouse. I have prepared anitemized list of the necessary materials, which Betty will give you. Your acceptance of the task imposed on you will indicate that youintend to fulfill my wishes. It will also mean that you seriouslycontemplate an attempt at reform. The fact that you receive this moneyshows that you are already making progress, for you would never get itif Betty thought you didn't deserve it, or were not worthy of a trial. I congratulate you. 

"YOUR FATHER. "

"Got it all framed up on me, eh?" said Calumet. "So you think I'vemade progress, an' that I'm goin' to do what you want me to do?"

"Your progress hasn't been startling, " she said dryly. "But you _have_progressed. At least, you have shown some inclination to listen toreason. Here is the itemized list which your father speaks of. " Shepassed over another paper, which Calumet scanned slowly and carefully. His gaze became fixed on the total at the bottom of the column offigures. 

"It amounts to nine hundred and sixty dollars, " he said, looking ather, a disgusted expression on his face. "Looks like the old fool wasmighty careless with his money. Couldn't he have put down another itemto cover that forty dollars?"

"I believe that margin was left purposely to take care of a possibleadvance in prices over those with which your father was familiar at thetime he made out the list, " she answered, smiling in appreciation ofhis perturbation. 

"That's keepin' cases pretty close, ain't it?" he said. "Suppose I'dblow the whole business?"

"That would show that you could not be trusted. Your father leftinstructions which provide for that contingency. "

"What are they?"

"I am not to tell. "

"Clever, ain't it?" he said, looking at her with displeased, hostileeyes. She met his gaze with a calm half-smile which had in it thatirritating quality of advantage that he had noticed before. 

"I am glad you think it clever, " she returned. 

"It was your idea, I reckon?"

"I believe I did suggest it to your father. He was somewhat at a lossto know how to deal with you. He told me that he had some doubts aboutthe scheme working; he said you would take it and 'blow' it in, as yousaid you might, but I disagreed with him. I was convinced that youwould do the right thing. "

"You had a lot of faith in me, didn't you?" he said, incredulously. "You believed in a man you'd never seen. "

"Your father had a picture of you, " she said, looking straight at him. "It was taken when you were fifteen, just before you left the ranch. It showed a boy with a cynical face and brooding, challenging eyes. But in spite of all that I thought I detected signs of promise in theface. I was certain that if you were managed right you could bereformed. "

"You _were_ certain, " he said significantly. "What do you think now?"

"I haven't altered my opinion. " Her gaze was steady and challenging. "Of course, " she added, blushing faintly; "I believe I was a littlesurprised when you came and I saw that you had grown to be a man. Yousee, I had looked at your picture so often that I rather expected tosee a boy when you came. I had forgotten those thirteen years. But ithas been said that a man is merely a grown-up boy and there is muchtruth in that. Despite your gruff ways, your big voice, and yourcontemptible way of treating people, you are very much a boy. But I amstill convinced that you are all right at heart. I think everybody is, and the good could be brought forward if someone would take enoughinterest in the subject. "

"Then you take an interest in me?" said Calumet, grinning scornfully. 

"Yes, " she said frankly; "to the extent of wondering whether or nottime will vindicate my judgment. "

"Then you think I won't blow this coin?" he said, tapping the bills. 

"I think you will spend it for the articles on the list I have givenyou. "

He looked at her and she was certain there was indecision in the glance. 

"Well, " he said abruptly, turning from her; "mebbe I will an' mebbe Iwon't. But whatever I do with it will be done to suit myself. Itwon't be done to please you. "

He mounted his pony and rode to the far end of the ranchhouse yard. When he turned in the saddle it was with the conviction that Bettywould be standing there watching him. Somehow, he wished she would. But she was walking toward the ranchhouse, her back to him, and he madea grimace of disappointment as he urged his pony out into the valley. 

CHAPTER X

NEW ACQUAINTANCES

Calumet had been in no hurry, though maintaining its steady chop-trotfor most of the distance, Blackleg had set him down in Lazette in alittle over two hours. 

Something had happened to Calumet. He had carefully considered thephenomenon all the way over from the Lazy Y; he considered it now as hesat sideways in the saddle before the rough board front of the Red DogSaloon. Betty had faith in him. That was the phenomenon--the unheardof miracle. No one else had ever had faith in him, and so it was a newexperience and one that must be thoroughly pondered if he was to enjoyit. And that he was enjoying it was apparent. Though he faced the RedDog Saloon he did not see it. He kept seeing Betty as she looked aftershe had given him the money. "I know you will do the right thing, " shehad said, or something very like that. It made no difference what herwords had been. What she meant was that she had faith in him. And hereyes had said that she expected him to justify that faith. 

But would he? He didn't know. For the first time in his life he wasafflicted with indecision over the possession of money. In the olddays--the Durango days--which now seemed to be far behind him, thethousand dollars in his pocket would have served to finance a briefholiday of license and drinking and reckless play with gamblingdevices. But now it was different--something within him had called--orwas calling--a halt. He told himself that it was because he had acuriosity to follow this strange, freakish plan of Betty's to the end. 

Some other emotion was calling just as strongly for him to do with themoney as he had always done with money. And so indecision afflictedhim. Humor likewise. He rarely felt in this mood. Not for years hadhe felt like laughing. Was he the Calumet Marston who, a week before, had set out on his homeward journey filled with bitterness--looking fortrouble? Had he been at the Lazy Y a day or a year? It was a day--twodays--but it seemed more like the longer time. At least the time hadwrought a change in him. It was ludicrous, farcical. In spite of histreatment of Betty she had faith in him! Wasn't that just like awoman? There was nothing logical in her. She had taken him on trust. The whole business was in the nature of a comedy and suddenly yieldingto his feelings he straightened in the saddle and laughed uproariously. 

He did not laugh long, and when he sobered down and with an effortbrought his mind back to the present, he became aware of the Red Dog, saw a young cowpuncher seated on the board sidewalk in front of thebuilding, his back resting against it, laughing in sympathy with him. 

Calumet was disconcerted for a moment. His eyes narrowed truculently. But then, as the oddness of the situation struck him he laughed again. But this time as he laughed he took stock of the young cowpuncher, whowas again laughing with him. 

The puncher was young--very young; not more than twenty-one or two. There was a week's growth of beard on his face. A saddle reposed byhis side. In spite of his laughter something about him spokeeloquently of trouble. Calumet felt a sudden interest in him. Any manwho could laugh when the world was not doing well with him must be madeof good stuff. But Calumet's interest was cynical and it brought asneer to his lips as he ceased laughing and sat loosely in the saddleregarding the puncher. 

"I reckon you ain't got no objections to tellin' me what you'relaughin' at?" he said coldly. 

"Mebbe you'd put me wise to the same thing, " said the other. "I'msettin' here, puttin' in a heap of my time tryin' to figger out who gotthe most of the six months' wages which I had with me when I strucktown yesterday--an' not makin' a hell of a lot of progress--when youmosey up here an' begin to laugh your fool head off. At nothin', sofar's I can see. Well, that's what I was laughin' at. Ketch my drift?"

"Meanin' that I'm nothin', I reckon?"

"Meanin' that you was laughin' at it, " said the puncher with adeprecatory smile. "I ain't lookin' for trouble--I'm it!"

Calumet's eyes twinkled. This was a very discerning young man. "Cleaned out, I reckon, " he said. "You look old enough to _sabe_ thatplayin' with a buzz saw is mild amusement compared with buckin' agambler's game. "

"Got singed yourself, I reckon, " said the puncher wearily. "You knowthe signs. Well, you've hit it. They'd have got my saddle, too, only--only they didn't seem to want it. There's still charity in theworld, after all--some guys don't want everything. So I'm considerin'the saddle a gift. It's likely, though, that they thought that if theyleft me the saddle I'd go right out an' rustle me another job an' earnsome more coin an' come back an' hand that over, too. But they've gotme wrong. Your little Dade Hallowell has swore off. He ain't nevergoin' to get the idea again that he's a simon-pure, dyed-in-the-woolcard sharp. "

"Another job? Then you're disconnected at present?"

"I'm free as the water. Ugh!" he shivered. "I couldn't even wash myface in it this mornin'. Water's a weak sister after last night. " Hisexpression changed. "I reckon you're in clover, though. Any man whichcan laugh to hisself as you was laughin', certainly ain't botherin' hishead about much. "

This quick turn of the conversation brought Calumet's thoughts back toBetty. "Looks is deceivin', " he said. "I've got a heap of burden onmy mind. I've got a thousand dollars which is botherin' meconsiderable. "

The puncher sat erect, his eyes bulging. 

"You've got a thousand!" he said "Oh, Lordy! An' you're botherin'about it?"

"It ain't none of your business, of course, " said Calumet. "An' Ireckon I'm tellin' you about it so's you'll feel mean about losin' yourown. But mebbe not. Mebbe I'm tellin' you about it because I've gotsomethin' else in mind. When I first seen you I was filled clear tothe top with doubt. If you had my thousand what would you do with it?"

"Meanin' that if I had your thousand an' was in your place?"

"I reckon. "

"That would depend, " said the puncher, cautiously. "If I'd robbed aman, or held up a stage coach, or busted a bank, I'd be burnin' thebreeze out of the country. But if I'd earned it honest I'd blow myselfproper, beginnin' by settin' 'em up to a fool guy which had give allhis coin to some card sharps yesterday. "

"None of them things fill the bill, " said Calumet. "This thousand wasgive to me by a woman. I'm to buy things with it--horses, wagon, lumber, hardware, an' such truck. "

"Shucks, " said the puncher, disappointedly. Over his face settled aglum expression. "Then you ain't got no right to spend it--foranything but what she told you about. You'd be worse'n a thief tosquander that money. "

Calumet looked keenly at him. "I reckon you're more'n half right. You've settled a thing in my mind. If you're hangin' around here whenI get through buyin' them things I'll be settin' them up to you. IfI've got anything left. " He abruptly broke off and urged his ponyabout, leaving the puncher to look after him speculatively. 

Two hours later he returned, driving two horses which were hitched to awagon of the "prairie-schooner" variety. The wagon was loaded withlumber and sundry kegs, boxes and packages. Calumet's pony trailed it. 

The puncher was still where Calumet had left him--apparently he had notmoved. But when he saw Calumet halt the horses in front of him andjump out of the wagon he got to his feet. He met Calumet's gaze with asober, interested smile. 

"That wagon of yours is speakin' mighty loud of work, " he said. "Backin Texas I used to be counted uncommon clever with a saw an' hammer. If you can rassle them two statements around to look them in the faceyou can see what I'm drivin' at. "

"What do you think you are worth to a man who ain't got no authority todo any hirin'?" said Calumet. 

"Ain't you the boss?" said Dade, disappointedly. 

"The boss is a woman. If you're wantin' to work you can come along. You'll have to take your chance. Otherwise--"

"I'll go you, " said the puncher. He threw his saddle into the wagon. "You said somethin' about a drink, " he added, "if you had anythingleft. I'm hopin'--"

Calumet hesitated. 

"Just one, " said Dade. "Mebbe two. Not more than three--or four. Ifyour ranch is far--"

"Twenty miles. "

"About two, then, " suggested Dade. "You wouldn't feel satisfied toknow that it was here an' you left it. "

"Well, then, get a move on you, " growled Calumet. He followed Dadeinto the Red Dog. 

It was quiet in the barroom. Three men sat at a table near the centerof the room, laughing and talking. They looked up with casual interestas Dade and Calumet entered, favored them with quick, appraisingglances, and then resumed their talk and laughter. Behind the bar theproprietor waited, indolently watching. 

"I'll take red-eye, " said Dade; "the same that made me think I was asure enough gambler last night. Did you ever notice, " he added, turning to Calumet, who was filling his glass, "what a heap ofconfidence whisky will give a man? Take me, last night. Things waslookin' rosy. Them gamblers looked like plumb easy pickin'. The morewhisky I drank the easier they looked, until--"

"Have another drink, " invited the proprietor, for it was at one of histables that Dade had played. His smile was bland and his manner suaveand smooth. He shoved a bottle toward Dade. At the same time helooked with interest upon Calumet. 

"Stranger here, I reckon?" he said. "I seen you loadin' a heap ofstuff into your wagon. What's your ranch?"

"The Lazy Y. "

The proprietor started and peered closer at Calumet. "That's oldMarston's place, ain't it?" To Calumet's slow nod, he continued:"Betty Clayton's runnin' it now. They say old Marston was the meanestold coyote that ever--"

Calumet's gaze was level and direct, and the proprietor shrank underits cold malignance. Calumet leaned forward. "You're talkin' to theold coyote's son right now, " he said. "An' you can speak right outloud in meetin' an' say that you was gassin' through your hat!"

The proprietor paled, then reddened. "I'm beggin' your pardon, " hesaid. "I reckon--you see--there's been talk--"

"Sure, " said Calumet. He smiled. It was the smile of reluctanttolerance. "Just talk, " he added. "But it won't be healthytalk--hereafter. "

"Have another drink, " invited the proprietor, and he pulled ahandkerchief from a pocket and wiped the sudden perspiration from hisforehead. Then he retreated to the far end of the bar, from whence hetried to appear unconcerned. 

Dade finished his drink and set the glass down. But he was visiblyexcited. 

"Betty Clayton, " he said, looking sharply at Calumet. "Has she got agranddad named Malcolm Clayton, an' a brother Bob?"

"That's her. " Calumet returned Dade's sharp glance. "What's eatin'you? Know her? Know Bob? Know Malcolm?"

"Know them!" said Dade. "Why, man, they was neighbors of mine inTexas!"

Calumet's eyes narrowed. A pulse of some strong emotion was revealedin his face, but it was instantly subdued. "That's joyful news--foryou. So you know her? It's likely she'll be glad to see you. "

Dade was mystified by his tone. "I reckon I ain't gettin' this thingjust right, " he said. "You told me Betty was runnin' the ranch, an'you tell this man that you're the son of the man that owns it. I don'tsee--"

Calumet smiled saturninely. "Take another drink, " he advised. Heshoved the bottle toward Dade. "This is your fourth. Then we'll behittin' the breeze to the Lazy Y. Betty'll be lonesome without me. "He laughed raucously, filled his glass and drank its contents. Then heturned from the bar and walked toward the door. Half way to it, Dadefollowing him, he halted, for the voice of a man who sat at a tablereached him. 

"Aw, Taggart, " it said loudly, "you're crowdin' the ante a little, ain't you?" The speaker laughed. "They tell me that Betty Claytonain't no man's fool. An' here you say--" The rest of it was drownedin a laugh that followed, the other two men joining the speaker. 

"Stuck on me, I tell you!" said another voice, and Calumet, half turnedtoward the table, saw the speaker's face. It was the face of anegotist--the vain, sensuous visage of a man in whom the animalinstincts predominated--the face of the rider that Calumet had seen onthe hill in the valley on the day of his return--the face of the manwho had shot at him. The man was good-looking in a coarse, vulgar way, and dissipated, gross, self-sufficient. Calumet's eyes narrowed withdislike as he looked at him. There was interest in his glance, too, for this was his father's enemy--his enemy. But after the first lookhis face became inscrutable. He turned to see Dade standing besidehim. Dade was rigid, pale; his body was in a half-crouch and there wasan expression of cold malignance on his face. Quickly Calumet placedboth hands on the young man's shoulders and shoved him back against thebar, thrusting his own body between him and Taggart. 

"Easy there, " he warned in a whisper. "He's my meat. "

Dade caught the mirthless smile on his lips and looked at himcuriously, his attitude still belligerent. 

"He's talkin' about Betty, the damned skunk!" he objected. His voicewas a low, throaty whisper and it did not carry to the table where thethree men sat. 

"He was sure talkin' about her, " said Calumet inexpressively. "An'I'll admit that any man who talks that way about a woman is what you'vecalled him. But it's my funeral, " he added, his voice suddenly coldand hard, "an' you ain't buttin' in, whatever happens. Buy yourselfanother drink, " he suggested; "you look flustered. I'm havin' a talkwith Taggart. "

He left Dade standing at the bar looking at him wonderingly, and madehis way slowly to the table where Taggart sat. Taggart was drinkingwhen Calumet reached his side, and Dade stood tense, awaiting theexpected clash. 

But none came. Calumet's grin as he nodded to Taggart was almostfriendly, and his voice was soft, even--almost gentle. 

"I heard one of these man call you Taggart, " he said. "I reckon you'refrom the Arrow?"

Taggart leaned back in his chair and insolently surveyed hisquestioner. What he saw in Calumet's face made his own pale a little. 

"I'm Taggart, " he said shortly--"Neal Taggart. What you wantin' of me?"

Calumet smiled. "Nothin' much, " he said. "I thought mebbe you'd liketo know me. We're neighbors, you know. I'm Marston--Calumet Marston, of the Lazy Y. "

The color receded entirely from Taggart's face, leaving it with a queerpallor. He abruptly shoved back his chair and stood, his eyes alertand fearful as his right hand stole slowly toward the butt of thepistol at his hip. Calumet's right hand did not seem to move, butbefore Taggart could get his weapon free of its holster he saw thesombre muzzle of a forty-five frowning at him from Calumet's hip and hequickly drew his own hand away--empty. 

"Shucks, " Calumet's voice came slowly into the silence that hadfallen--slowly and softly and with apparently genuine deprecation. "IfI'd known that you was goin' to get that excited I'd have broke thenews different. I don't know what you're gettin' at, trying to dragyour gun out that way. I was hopin' we'd be friends. We ought to, youknow, bein' neighbors. "

"Friends?" Taggart stepped back a pace and looked at Calumetincredulously, his eyes searching for signs of insincerity. He saw nosuch signs, for if Calumet had emotion at this minute it was too deepto be uncovered with a glance. But he knew from Taggart's perturbationthat the latter knew him to be the man he had shot at that day in thevalley. 

Obviously, he had not then had any suspicion as to his identity--hissurprise showed that he had not. And his half-fearful, puzzled looksat Calumet indicated to the latter that he was wondering whetherCalumet recognized him as the man who had done the shooting. 

Calumet's smile was cordial, inviting, even slightly ingratiating, andwatching him closely Taggart was convinced that he was not recognized. Also he was certain that Calumet could not have learned anything of thetrouble between their parents. Yet Betty knew, and if Betty hadn'ttold him there must be something between them--dislike or greed onBetty's part--and a smile appeared on his face as he remembered that hehad heard his father say that Calumet had been vicious and unmanageablein his youth. He must be at odds with Betty. 

And Betty--well, a shyster lawyer in Las Vegas had told Taggartsomething about a will which old Marston had made, in which Betty hadbeen named as beneficiary of the property in case Calumet failed toagree to certain specifications, and Taggart was ready to believe thatBetty would not hesitate to bring about an open clash with Calumet inorder to gain control of the ranch. This thought filled Taggart with asavage exultation. He and his father had made very little progress intheir past attacks on the Lazy Y, and if it were possible to setCalumet against Betty there might come an opportunity to drive a wedgewhich would make an opening--the opening they had long sought for. Atall events he would have considered himself a fool if he failed to takeadvantage of this opportunity to ingratiate himself into the goodnature of this man. 

"Well, that's right, I reckon, " he said. "There ain't no reason that Iknow of why we shouldn't be friends. I'm right glad to see you. " Hestuck out his right hand, but it appeared that Calumet did not noticeit, for he laughed as he replaced the pistol in its holster. 

"Same here, " he said. "If you're passin' the Lazy Y any time, drop inan' visit. I'm fixin' her up a few--enough so's I can live in the oldshack. "

Taggart had noted with a lowering frown Calumet's omission of theproffered handshake, but the cordial good nature of the smile on thelatter's face was unmistakable, and he grinned in reply. 

"I'll sure do that, " he said. 

"I'll be right glad to have you, " said Calumet. "Come tomorrow--in theafternoon--any time. "

"You reckonin' on bein' the boss now?" questioned Taggart. 

Some emotion flickered Calumet's eyelashes. "You've said somethin', "he returned; "nobody's runnin' me. " He turned and walked to Dade, whohad been watching him with wrath and astonishment. 

"Drinkin'?" suggested Taggart. "Have a drink, old man, " he said, withcelluloid good fellowship. 

Calumet turned with a grin. "Me an' my friend has got to the end ofour capacity, " he said. "He's workin' for me an I ain't settin' him abad example. The next time, if you're in the humor, I'll be glad todrink all you can buy. " He waved a hand behind him, with the other hewas pushing Dade before him toward the door. "So-long, " he said, as heand Dade went out. 

Taggart laughed as he turned to his companions, who had said nothingduring the conversation. 

"Friends!" he said; "he's green an' due for a shock!"

Either Taggart or the proprietor had made a mistake in their estimateof Calumet. For at the instant Taggart had sneered at Calumet to hisfriends, the bartender, who had come in while Taggart and Calumet hadbeen talking, leaned over to listen to the proprietor. 

"In Taggart's place, " said the proprietor, "I'd be mighty careful ofthat man. Friend, eh? Well, mebbe. But you noticed that he didn'toffer to shake hands with Taggart. An' he wouldn't drink. Reached hiscapacity! He had four in here. Sober as a judge! Did you notice hiseyes? They fair made me shiver when he looked at me when I was talkin'about his old man. I'm goin' to be damn careful about my palaver afterthis. Friend! Well, if I wasn't his friend I'd be damn careful not torile him!"

Outside Dade halted, white hot with rage. 

"I reckon I ain't got no job with you, you white-livered--"

The muzzle of Calumet's forty-five, magically produced, it seemed, soquickly did it show in his hand, was making an icy ring against Dade'sthroat, and the words, the epithet for which he had hesitated, remainedunspoken. Metallic, venomous and filled with a threat of death cameCalumet's voice. 

"You sufferin' fool!" he said, the words writhing through his lips, hiseyes blazing. "It's my game, do you hear? An' if you gas another wordabout it I'll tear you apart!"

"He was blackguardin' Betty, " objected Dade, his face ashen, but hisspirit still undaunted. "He was blackguardin' her an' you made friendswith him. I'd have salivated him if I'd thought you wasn't goin' to. I'm goin' back there now an'--"

Calumet stepped back a pace and cocked his six-shooter. "I reckon Ican't make you understand that it's my game, " he said coldly. "Walkbackwards when you go in, " he directed; "I don't want to plug you inthe back. "

Dade started and looked intently at Calumet. "You mean that it ain'tended between you an' him?" he demanded. 

"Some people would have tumbled to that long ago, " jeered Calumet. "But kids--kids take longer to _sabe_ a thing. I'm glad you're overit, " he added. He sheathed his pistol. "I reckon we'll be goin', " hesaid. "Betty'll begin to believe I'm lost. "

Dade followed him to the wagon, meekly enough now that he had receivedunmistakable proof that Taggart was Calumet's "game, " and shortlyafterward the wagon pulled out of Lazette and struck the trail towardthe Lazy Y. 

CHAPTER XI

PROGRESS

Calumet had some thoughts on the subject but they were all inchoate andunsatisfying. He got only one conclusion out of them--that for somemysterious reason he had surrendered to Betty and was going to work torepair the ranchhouse. 

On the morning following his visit to Lazette he sat on a piece ofheavy timber which he and Dade had lifted a few minutes before to somesaw-horses preparatory to framing. Armed with a scratch awl and asquare Dade was at the other end of the timber, his hat shoved backfrom his forehead while he ran his fingers through his hair as thoughpondering some weighty problem. Watching him, Calumet suffered arecurrence of that vague disquiet which had moved him the night beforewhen he had listened to the cordial greeting which Betty had given theyoung man. Old friendship had been between the two and somehow it haddisturbed Calumet. He did not know why. He didn't like Betty, but atthe same time every smile that she had given Dade the night before hadcaused some strange emotion to grip him. And he liked Dade, too. Hecouldn't understand that, either. 

He had never been friendly with any man. But something about Dadeappealed to him; he felt tolerant toward him, was mildly interested inhim. He thought it was because Dade was boyish and impulsive. Whatever it was, he knew of its existence. It was not a deep feeling;it was like the emotion that moves a large animal to permit a smallerone to remain near it--a grudging tolerance which may develop intosincere friendship or at a flash turn into a furious hatred. And soDade's security depended entirely upon how he conducted himself. If hekept out of Calumet's way, all well and good. But if he interferedwith him, if, for instance, he became too friendly with Betty, therewould come an end to Calumet's tolerance. 

And so there was a glint of speculative distrust in Calumet's eyes ashe sat and watched Dade ponder. Calumet was in no good humor. He feltlike baiting Dade. 

"What you clawin' your head that way for?" he suddenly demanded as Dadecontinued to puzzle over his problem. 

Dade grinned. "I'm goin' to halve these sills together. But I'mwantin' to make sure that the halves will be made reverse, so's they'llfit. An' I don't seem to be able to fix it clear in my mind. "

"You was braggin' some on bein' a carpenter. "

"I reckon I wasn't doin' no braggin', " denied Dade, reddening a little. 

Calumet fixed a hostile eye on him. "Braggin' goes, " he said shortly. "If you'd said you was a barber, now, no one would expect you to fitany sills together. But when you say you've done carpenter work thatmakes it different. You ought to _sabe_ sills. "

Dade laid his square and scratch awl down on the piece of timber anddeliberately seated himself on the saw-horse beside it. He lookeddefiantly at Calumet. A change had come over him from the daybefore--the slight deference in his manner had become succeeded bysomething unyielding and hard. 

"Let's get on an understandin', " he said. "You can't go to pickin' onme. " And he looked fairly into Calumet's eyes over the length of thetimber. 

"I'm gassin' to suit myself, " said Calumet; "if that don't size upright to you you can pull your freight. "

"You're a false alarm, " said Dade bluntly; "you drive me plumb weary. "

Before his voice had died away Calumet's hand had flashed to his pistolbutt. Why he did not draw the weapon was a mystery known only tohimself. It might have been because Dade had not moved. Calumet'slips had tensed over his teeth in a savage snarl; they still held thesnarl when he spoke. 

"You'll swallow that, " he said. "Do you _sabe_ my idea?"

"Nary swallow, " declared Dade. "False alarm goes. I've got you sizedup right. "

Calumet's six-shooter came out. His eyes, blazing with a wanton fire, met Dade's and held them. The youngster's lips whitened, but his eyesdid not waver. Death twitched at Calumet's finger. There was a longsilence. And then Dade spoke. 

"Usin' it?" he said. 

Into Calumet's blazing eyes came a slow glint of doubt, of reluctantadmiration. His lashes flickered, the blaze died down, he squinted, acold, amused smile succeeded the snarl. He laughed shortly, looked atthe pistol, and then slowly jammed it back into the holster. 

"You're too good to lose, " he said. "I'm savin' you for another time. "

"Thanks, " said Dade dryly, though the ashen face of him showed how wellhe realized his narrow escape. "I reckon we understand each other now. I can see by the way you yanked out your gun just now and by the wayyou got the drop on Taggart yesterday, that you're some on the shoot. But I ain't none scared of you. An' now I'm tellin' you why I saidyou're a false alarm. I was talkin' to Betty last night. She's readup a bit, an' I'm parrotin' what she said about you because it's what Ithink, too. Your cosmos is all ego. That's what Betty said. Broughtdown to cases, what that means is that you've got a bad case of swelledhead. So far as you're concerned there's only one person in the world. That's you. Nobody else counts. You've been thinkin' about yourselfso much that you can't find time to think about anybody else. There'sother people in the world as good as you--better. Betty's one of them. She's a good girl an' you an' me'll hitch all right as long as youdon't go to bullyin' her. I reckon that's all. "

"Meanin' that you'll let me hang around as long as I'm good, " sneeredCalumet in a dangerously soft voice. He was trying to work himselfinto a rage, but the effort was futile. Something in Dade's quiet, matter-of-fact voice had a dulling, cooling effect on him. Besides, heknew that an attack on Dade would be resented by Betty, and he felt astrange reluctance toward further antagonizing her. "You Texas folksare sure clever at workin' your jaws, " he sneered, when Dade did notanswer. "But I reckon that lets you out. When I'm lookin' for advicefrom women an' kids mebbe I'll call on you an' Betty, but if I don'tyou'll understand that I'm followin' my own trail. You've got awaywith one call because--well, because I was fool enough to let you. Mebbe another time I won't feel so foolish. "

There were few words spoken between them during the following hours ofthe morning, though several times Dade caught Calumet watching him witha puzzled, amused smile in which there was a sort of slumberingferocity. By the middle of the morning the front of the ranchhouse hadbeen raised with the assistance of jacks, the old rotted sills takenout and new ones substituted. About an hour before noon, whileCalumet, in woolen shirt and overalls, his face dirty, his hairtousled, and his temper none too good, was wedging the sill tightagainst the studding above it, he became aware of Betty standing nearhim. She nodded toward the sill. 

"That makes an improvement already, " she said. 

"Ye-es?" he said, with an irritating drawl. 

There was a silence; she stood, regarding his back, a faint smile onher face. 

"I want to compliment you on your judgment of horses, " she persisted, in an attempt to make him talk; "the ones you bought are fine. "

Calumet drove a wedge home viciously. But he did not answer. 

"I've been checking up your other purchases, " she went on; "and I findthat you followed the list I gave you faithfully. "

He turned and looked up. "Look here, " he said; "I got what you wanted, didn't I? There's no use of gettin' mush headed about it. I'd haveblowed the money just as quick, if I'd wanted to. "

"But you didn't. "

"Because you didn't want me to, I reckon?" he sneered. 

"No. Because you wanted to be fair. "

He had not known what sort of an answer he had expected from her, butthe one he got embarrassed him. He felt a reluctant pleasure over theknowledge that she had faith in him, but mingling with this was a rageagainst himself over his surrender. When she turned from him andwalked over to Dade, speaking to him in a low voice, he could not havetold which affected him most, his rage against himself or hisdisappointment over her abrupt leave-taking. She irritated him, butsomehow he got a certain pleasure out of that irritation--which was awholly unsatisfying and mystifying paradox. He covertly watched Dadeduring her talk with him and discovered that he did not like the waythe young man looked at her; he was entirely too familiar even if hewas a friend of the family. He saw, too, that Betty seemed to be anentirely different person when talking to Dade. For one thing sheseemed natural, which she didn't seem when talking to him. Until hesaw her talking with Dade he had been able to see nothing in her mannerbut restraint and stiff formality, but figuratively, when in Dade'spresence she seemed to melt--she was gracious, smiling, cordial. 

Betty's attitude toward him during the noon meal puzzled him much. Some subtle change had come over her. Several times he surprised herlooking at him, and at these times he was certain there was approval inher glances, though perhaps the approval was mingled with somethingelse--speculation, he thought. 

But whatever it was, he had not seen it before. Had he known that Dadehad told her about the incident of the Red Dog Saloon he would haveunderstood, for she was wondering--as Dade had wondered--why he hadpretended to make friends with Taggart, why he had asked the Arrow manto visit the Lazy Y that afternoon. 

After dinner Calumet went out again to his work, apparently carefreeand unconcerned, if we are to omit those thoughts in which Dade andBetty figured, Dade watched him with much curiosity, for the incidentof the day before was still vivid in his mind, and if there had been. Mystery in Calumet's action in inviting Taggart to the Lazy Y there hadbeen no mystery in the words he had spoken outside the Red Dog Saloonimmediately afterward: "It's my game, do you hear?"

But along toward the middle of the afternoon Dade became so interestedthat he forgot all about Taggart, and was only reminded of him whenlooking up momentarily he saw Calumet sitting on a pile of timber nearthe ranchhouse, leaning lazily forward, his elbows resting on hisknees, his chin on his hands, gazing speculatively into the afternoonhaze. Dade noted that he was looking southward, and he turned andfollowed his gaze to see, far out in the valley, a horseman approaching. 

Dade had turned stealthily and thought his movement had been unobservedby Calumet, and he started when the latter slowly remarked:

"Well, he's comin', after all. I was thinkin' he wouldn't. "

"That's him, all right, I reckon, " returned Dade. He shot a glance atCalumet's face--it was expressionless. 

There was a silence until Taggart reached the low hill in the valleywhere on the day following his coming to the Lazy Y Calumet had seenLonesome, before the dog had begun the stalk that had ended in itsdeath. Then Calumet turned to Dade, a derisive light in his eyes. 

"Do you reckon Betty will be glad to see him?"

"I don't reckon you done just right in askin' him here after what hesaid in the Red Dog, " returned Dade. 

Calumet seemed amused. "Shucks, you're a kid yet, " he said. Heignored Dade, giving his attention to Taggart, who was now near thebunkhouse. 

Taggart's coming was attended with interest by Malcolm, who, hearinghoofbeats in the ranchhouse yard came to the door of the bunkhousewhere he had been doing some small task; by Bob, who hobbled out of thestable door, his eyes wide; and by Betty, who, forewarned of the visitby Dade, had come out upon the porch and had been watching his approach. 

Dade was interested also, betraying his interest by covertly eyeingTaggart as he drew his pony to a halt. But apparently Calumet'sinterest was largely negative, for he did not move from his position, merely glancing at Taggart as the latter halted his pony, grinningmildly at him and speaking to him in a slow drawl. 

"Get off your cayuse an' visit, " he invited. 

Taggart's smile was wide as he dismounted. He did not seem to look atthe others particularly, not even deigning a glance at Dade, but hisgaze fell on Betty with an insolent boldness that brought a flush tothat young lady's face. There was a challenge in the look he gave her. He dismounted and bowed mockingly to her, sweeping his hat from hishead with a movement so derisive that it made Dade longingly finger hispistol butt. 

Calumet still sat on the pile of lumber. His smile was engaging evenif, as it seemed to Dade, it was a trifle shallow. But now Calumetslowly got to his feet. He stood erect, yawned, and stretched himself. Then turning, his back to Taggart, who had come close to him, he lookedat Betty, steadily, intently, with a command showing so plainly in hiseyes that the girl involuntarily started. 

"Betty, " he said slowly; "come here. "

She went toward him, scarcely knowing why, yet remotely conscious ofsomething in his eyes that warned her that she must not refuse--a cold, sinister gleam that hinted of approaching trouble. She walked to apoint near him and stood looking at him wonderingly. And now for thefirst time since the beginning of their acquaintance she became awareof a quiet indomitability in his character, the existence of which shehad suspected all along without having actually sensed it. She saw nowwhy men feared him. In his attitude, outwardly calm, but suggesting insome subtle way the imminence of deadly violence; in his eyes, steadyand cold, but with something cruel and bitter and passionate slumberingdeep in them; in the set of his head and the thrust of his chin, therewas a threat--nay, more--a promise of volcanic action; of ruthless, destroying anger. 

Taggart, apparently, saw nothing of these things. He looked again atBetty, his heavy face wreathed in an insolent half-smile. She saw thelook and instantly flushed and stiffened. But it appeared that Calumetnoticed nothing of her agitation or of Taggart's insulting glance. Hestood a little to one side of Taggart, and he spoke slowly anddistinctly:

"Taggart, " he said; "meet my boss, Betty Clayton. " He smiled grimly atthe consternation in Betty's face, at the black rage in Dade's. 

"I have already had the honor of meeting Mr. Taggart, " said Bettycoldly. "If that is what you--" She caught a glance from Calumet andsubsided. 

Taggart was deeply amused; he guffawed loudly. 

"That's rich, " he said. "Why, man, I've knowed her ever since she'sbeen here. Me an' her's pretty well acquainted. In fact--"

"Well, now; that's odd, " cut in Calumet dryly. 

"What is?" questioned Taggart quickly, noting his tone. 

"That I didn't remember, " said Calumet. 

"Remember what?" inquired Taggart. 

"That I heard you gassin' about Betty to your Red Dog friends. Yourattled it off pretty glibly. You ought to remember what you said. I'm wantin' you to repeat it while she's watchin' you. That's why Iwanted you to come over here. "

"Why--" began Taggart. Then he hesitated, an embarrassed, incredulouslight in his shifting eyes. He looked from one to the other, notseeming to entirely comprehend the significance of the command, andthen he saw the gleam in Betty's eyes, the derisive enjoyment inDade's, the implacable glint in Calumet's, knowledge burst upon him ina sudden, sickening flood and his face paled. He looked at Calumet, the look of a trapped animal. 

"Get goin'!" said the latter; "we're all waitin'. "

Taggart cursed profanely, stepping back a pace and reaching for hispistol. But as in the Red Dog, Calumet was before him. Again hisright hand moved with the barely perceptible motion, and hissix-shooter was covering Taggart. The latter quickly withdrew his ownhand, it was empty. And in response to an abrupt movement of Calumet'shand it went upward, the other following it instantly. Watchful, alert, Calumet stepped forward, plucked Taggart's pistol from itsholster, threw it a dozen feet from him, swiftly passed a hand overTaggart's shirt and waistband and then stepped back. 

"You've got a minute, " he said. "Sixty seconds to decide whether you'drather die with your boots on or get to talkin'. Take your time, forthere won't be any arguin' afterward. "

Taggart looked into Calumet's eyes. What he saw there seemed to decidehim. "I reckon it's your trick, " he said; "I'll talk. "

"Get goin'. "

"I said I'd made love to her. "

A half-sneer wreathed Calumet's face. "I reckon that covers the groundpretty well. You didn't say it that way, but we won't have you repeatthe exact words; they ain't fit to hear. The point is, did you tellthe truth?"

"No, " said Taggart. He did not look at Betty and his face was scarlet. 

"So you lied, eh? Lied about a woman! There's only one place for thatkind of a man. Crawl an' tell her you're a snake!"

Taggart had partly recovered his composure. 

"Guess again, " he sneered. "You're buttin' in where--"

Calumet dropped his pistol and took a quick step. With a swish hisright hand went forward to Taggart's face, one hundred and eightypounds of vengeful, malignant muscle behind it. There was the dull, strange sound of impacting bone and flesh. Taggart's head shotbackward, he crumpled oddly, his legs wabbled and doubled under him andhe sank in his tracks, sprawling on his hands and knees in the sand. 

For an instant he remained in this position, then he threw himselfforward, groping for the pistol Calumet had dropped. Calumet's bootedfoot struck his wrist, and with a bellow of rage and pain he got to hisfeet and rushed headlong at his assailant. Calumet advanced a step tomeet him. His right fist shot out again; it caught Taggart fairly inthe mouth and he sank down once more. He landed as before, on hishands and knees, and for an instant he stayed in that position, hishead hanging between his arms and swaying limply from side to side. Then with an inarticulate grunt he plunged forward and lay facedownward in the sand. 

Calumet stood watching him. He felt Betty's hand on his arm, laidthere restrainingly, but he shook her viciously off, telling her to"mind her own business. " Malcolm had come forward; he stood behindBetty. Dade had not moved, though a savage satisfaction had come intohis eyes. Bob stood in front of the stable door, trembling fromexcitement. But besides Betty, none of them attempted to interfere, and there was a queer silence when Taggart finally got to his feet. 

He stood for an instant, glaring around at them all, and then his gazeat last centered on Calumet. Calumet silently motioned toward Betty. 

In response to the movement, Taggart's lips moved. "I'm apologizin', "he said. He turned to his horse. After he had climbed into the saddlehe looked around at Calumet. He sneered through his swollen lips. 

"You'll be gettin' what I owe you, " he threatened. 

"I'm your friend, " jeered Calumet. "I've been your friend since theday you tried to bore me with a rifle bullet out there in thevalley--the day I come here--after runnin' like a coyote from thedaylight. I've got an idea what you was hangin' around for thatday--I've got the same idea now. You're tryin' to locate that heathenidol. You're wastin' your time. You're doin' more--you're runnin' aheap of risk. For what you've just got is only a sample of what you'llget if you stray over onto my range again. That goes for the sneakin'thief you call your father, or any of your damned crowd. "

He stood, slouching a little, watching Taggart until the latter rodewell out into the valley. Then without a word he walked over to thesill upon which he had been working before the arrival of Taggart, seized a hammer, and began to drive wedges wherever they were necessary. 

Presently he heard a voice behind him, and he turned to confront Betty. 

"I heard what you said to Taggart, of course, about him trying to shootyou. I didn't know that. He deserved punishment for it. But I amsure that part of the punishment you dealt him was administered becauseof the way he talked about me. If that is so, I wish to thank you. "

"You might as well save your breath, " he said gruffly; "I didn't do itfor you. "

She laughed. "Then why didn't you choose another place to call him toaccount?"

He did not answer, driving another wedge home with an extra viciousblow. 

She watched him in silence for an instant, and then, with a laugh whichmight have meant amusement or something akin to it, she turned andwalked to the house. 

CHAPTER XII

A PEACE OFFERING

If there was one trait in Betty's character that bothered Calumet morethan another, it was her frankness. More than once during the daysthat followed Neal Taggart's visit Calumet was made to feel the absenceof guile in her treatment of him. The glances she gave him were asstraightforward and direct as her words, and it became plain to himthat with her there were no mental reservations. Her attitude towardhim had not changed; she still dealt with him as the school teacherdeals with the unruly scholar--with a personal aloofness that promisedan ever-widening gulf if he persisted in defying her authority. Calumet got this impression and it grew on him; it was disconcerting, irritating, and he tried hard to shake it off, to no avail. 

He had considered carefully the impulse which had moved him to enticeTaggart to the Lazy Y, and was convinced that it had been arousedthrough a desire to take some step to avenge his father. He toldhimself that if in the action there had been any desire to championBetty he had not been conscious of it. It angered him to think thatshe should presume to imagine such a thing. And yet he had felt athrob of emotion when she had thanked him--a reluctant, savage, resentful satisfaction which later changed to amusement. If shebelieved he had thrashed Taggart in defense of her, let her continue tobelieve that. It made no difference one way or another. But he wouldtake good care to see that she should have no occasion to thank himagain. She did not interfere with the work, which went steadily on. The ranchhouse began to take on a prosperous appearance. Within a weekafter the beginning of the work the sills were all in, the rottedbottoms of the studding had been replaced, and the outside wallspatched up. During the next week the old porches were torn down andnew ones built in their places. At the end of the third week the roofhad been repaired, and then there were some odds and ends that had tobe looked to, so that the fourth week was nearly gone when Dade andCalumet cleared up the débris. It was Dade who, in spite of Calumet'sremonstrances, went inside to announce the news to Betty, and she cameout with him and looked the work over with a critical, thoughapproving, eye. Calumet was watching her, and when she had concludedher inspection she turned to him with a smile. 

"Tomorrow you can go to Lazette and get some paint, " she said. 

"Want it done up in style, eh?"

"Of course, " she returned; "why not?"

"That's it, " he growled; "why not? You don't have to do the work. "

She laughed. "I should dislike to think you are lazy. "

He flushed. "I reckon I ain't none lazy. " He could think of nothingelse to say. Her voice had a taunt in it; her attack was direct andmerciless. She looked at Dade, whose face was red with some emotion, but she spoke to Calumet. 

"I don't think you ought to complain about the work, " she said. "Youwere to do it alone, but on my own responsibility I gave you Dade. "

"Pitied me, I reckon, " he sneered. 

"Yes. " Her gaze was steady. "I pity you in more ways than one. "

"When did you think I needed any pity?" he demanded truculently, angered. 

"Oh, " she said, in pretended surprise, "you are in one of your moodsagain! Well, I am not going to quarrel with you. " She turned abruptlyand entered the house, and Calumet fell to kicking savagely into ahummock with the toe of his boot. As in every clash he had had withher yet, he emerged feeling like a reproved school boy. What made itworse was that he was beginning to feel that there was no justificationfor his rage against her. As in the present case, he had been theaggressor and deserved all the scorn she had heaped upon him. But therage was with him, nevertheless, perhaps the more poignant because hefelt its impotency. He looked around at Dade. That young man wastrying to appear unconscious of the embarrassing predicament of hisfellow workman. He endeavored to lighten the load for him. 

"She certainly does talk straight to the point, " he said. "But Ireckon she don't mean more'n half of it. "

Calumet shot a malignant look at him. "Who in hell is askin' for_your_ opinion?" he demanded. 

The paint, however, was secured, Calumet making the trip to Lazette forit. He returned after dark, and Bob, who was sitting in the kitchenwhere Betty was washing the dishes, hobbled out to greet him. Bob hadbeen outside only a few minutes when Betty heard his voice, raisedjoyously. She went to a rear window, but the darkness outside wasimpenetrable and she could see nothing. Presently, though, she heardBob's step on the porch, and almost instantly he appeared, holding inhis arm a three-month-old puppy of doubtful breed. He radiated delight. 

"Calumet brought it!" he said, in answer to Betty's quickinterrogation. "He said it was to take the place of Lonesome. Ireckon he ain't so bad, after all--is he Betty?"

Betty patted the puppy's head, leaning over so that Bob did not see thestrange light in her eyes. 

"He's nice, " she said. 

"Who?" said Bob, quickly--"Calumet?"

Betty rose, her face flushing. "No, " she said sharply; "the puppy. "

Bob looked at her twice before he said, in a slightly disappointedvoice, "Uh-huh. "

When Calumet came into the kitchen half an hour later, having stabledhis horses and washed his face and hands from the basin he found on theporch, he found his supper set out on the table; but Betty was nowhereto be seen. 

"Where's Betty?" he demanded of Bob, who was romping delightedly withthe new dog, which showed its appreciation of its new friend by yelpingjoyously. 

"I reckon she's gone to bed, " returned the young man. 

For a few minutes Calumet stood near the door, watching the dog and theboy. Several times he looked toward the other doors, disappointmentrevealed in his eyes. Was he to take Betty's departure before hisarrival as an indication that she had fled from him? He had seen herwhen she had pressed her face to the window some time before, and itnow appeared to him that she had deliberately left the room to avoidmeeting him. He frowned and walked to the table, looking down at thefood. She had thought of him, at any rate. 

He sat at the table and took several bites of food before he spokeagain. 

"Betty see the pup?" he asked. 

"Yep. "

"Like him?"

"Yep. "

He hesitated, while Bob looked at him, intent for more questions. Hehad liked Calumet from the first, despite the killing of Lonesome. Hecould not forget the gruff words of consolation that had been spoken byCalumet on that occasion--they had been sincere, at any rate--his boy'sheart knew that. He worshiped Calumet since he had given him the dog. And so he wanted to talk. 

"She patted him on the head, " he said. 

"Just what did she say?" inquired Calumet. 

"She said he was nice. "

"Them the exact words?"

"Yep. "

There was a silence again, while Calumet chewed meditatively at hisfood. Bob suspended play with the puppy to watch him. 

"Well, " said Calumet finally, "that shows just what a woman knows aboutdogs--or anything. He ain't none nice, not at all, takin' dogs asdogs. He's nothin' but a fool yellow mongrel. "

Bob contemplated his benefactor, sourly at first, for already he andthe dog were friends, and thus Calumet's derogatory words were in thenature of a base slander. But he reasoned that all was not wellbetween Betty and Calumet, and therefore perhaps Calumet had not meantthem in exactly that spirit. 

"Well, " he said at last, "I like him a lot, anyway. "

"What's that?" said Calumet, startled. He had forgotten about the dog. He had been wondering if Betty had gone to bed, or whether she was inthe sitting room, reading, as she was accustomed to doing. A lightcame through the sitting room door, and Calumet had been watching it, momentarily expecting to see Betty's shadow. "What's that?" herepeated. "You like him, anyway? Why?"

"Because you gave him to me, " said Bob, blushing at the admission. 

Calumet looked at him, sourly at first; and then, with a crafty grin onhis face as he watched the sitting room door, he raised his voice sothat if Betty were in the sitting room she could not help hearing it. 

"Well, " he said, "you like him because I gave him to you, eh? Shucks. I reckon that ain't the reason Betty likes him. "

Apparently Bob had no answer to make to this, for he kept silent. ButCalumet saw a shadow cross the sitting room floor, and presently heheard a light footstep on the stairs. He smiled and went on eating. 

CHAPTER XIII

SUSPICION

"If the repairs on the ranchhouse were not finished by this time youwould not be reading this, " began a letter drawn from a tightly sealedenvelope Betty had given Calumet after he and Dade had completed thepainting. Supper had been over for some time, but the dishes had notyet been cleared away, and when Betty had handed Calumet the letter hehad shoved the tablecloth back to make room for his elbows while heread. Bob had gone to bed; Malcolm and Dade were somewhere outside. Calumet had started to go with them, but had remained when Betty hadtold him quietly that she wanted to talk to him on a matter ofimportance. She sat opposite him now, unconcernedly balancing a knifeon the edge of a coffee cup, while she waited for him to finish readingthe letter. 

"Therefore, " continued the letter, "by this time your heart must havesoftened a little toward me. I am certain of this, for I know that, inspite of your other weaknesses, that cupidity and greed have no placein your mental make-up. I know, too, that you are no fool, and by thistime you must have digested my first letter, and if you have you arenot blaming me as much as you did in the beginning. 

"I have talked this over with Betty, and she is of the opinion that asyou have thus far obeyed my wishes you should be permitted to have afree hand henceforth, for she insists that perhaps by this time therestraint she has put on you will have resulted in you hating her, andin that case she says she will not care to remain here any longer. Butas I have said, I do not think you are a fool, and nobody but a foolcould hate Betty. So I have persuaded her that even if you should cometo look upon her in that light she owes it to me to stay until theconditions are fulfilled. 

"It is my own hope that by this time you have made friends with her. Perhaps--I am not going to offer you any advice, but Betty is a jewel, and you might do worse. You probably will if you haven't sense enoughto take her--if you can get her. I have given her your picture, andshe likes you in spite of the reputation I have given you. She saysyou have good eyes. Now, if a girl once gets in that mood there's noend of the things she won't do for a man. And the man would be aningrate if he didn't try to live up to her specifications after hefound that out. That's why I am telling you. Faith made a certaindisciple walk on the water, and lack of it caused the same one to sink. Do a little thinking just here. If you do you are safe, and if youdon't you are not worth saving. 

"This is all about Betty. Whatever happens, I think she will be amatch for you. 

"Betty will give you another thousand dollars. With it you will fix upthe corrals, the bunkhouse, and the stable. 

"Perhaps you will want to know why I have not so much faith in you asBetty has. It is because one day a man from the Durango countrystopped here for a day. He told me he knew you--that you werecold-blooded and a hard case. Then I knew you hadn't improved afterleaving home. And so you must continue to do Betty's will, and mine. Do you doubt this is for your own good?

"YOUR FATHER. "

When Calumet folded the letter and placed it in a pocket, he leaned hisarms on the table again and regarded Betty intently. 

"Do you know what is in this letter?" he said, tapping the pocket intowhich he had placed it. 

"No. "

"There is something missing from the letter, ain't there?"

"Yes, " she returned; "a thousand dollars. " She passed it over to him. As before, there were ten one-hundred-dollar bills. 

His eyes flashed with mocking triumph. "If you don't know what is inthis letter--if you didn't read it--how do you know that I am to havethis money?" he said. 

She silently passed over another envelope and watched him with a smileof quiet contempt as he removed the contents and read:

"BETTY:--Give Calumet a thousand dollars when you turn over letternumber three to him. 

"JAMES MARSTON. "

Calumet looked at the envelope; Betty's name was on the face of it. The triumph in his eyes was succeeded by embarrassment. He looked upto see Betty's amused gaze on him. 

"Well?" she questioned. 

"Most women would have read it, " he said. He got up and went outside, leaving her to look after him, not knowing whether he had meant tocompliment her or not. 

He found Dade and Malcolm standing near the stable. There was abrilliant moon. At Dade's invitation they all went down to thebunkhouse. In spite of the dilapidated appearance of its exterior, theinterior of the building was in comparatively good condition--due tothe continual tinkering of Malcolm, who liked to spend his idle hoursthere--and Malcolm lighted a candle, placed it on the rough table, tooka deck of cards from the shelf, and the three played "pitch" for twohours. At the end of that time Malcolm said he was going to bed. Dadesignified that he intended doing likewise. He occupied half ofCalumet's bed. Since the day following the clash with Dade, Calumethad insisted on this. 

"Just to show you that what you said ain't botherin' me a heap, " he hadtold Dade. "You're still yearlin' and need some one to keep an eye onyou, so's some careless son of a gun won't herd-ride you. "

That Dade accepted this in the spirit in which it was spoken made itpossible for them to bunk together in amity. If Dade had "sized up"Calumet, the latter had made no mistake in Dade. 

Dade snuffed out the candle and followed Malcolm out. The latter wentimmediately to the ranchhouse, but Dade lingered until Calumet steppeddown from the door of the bunkhouse. 

"Bed suits me, " suggested Dade. "Comin'?"

"I'm smokin' a cigarette first, " said Calumet. "Mebbe two, " he addedas an afterthought. 

He watched Malcolm go in; saw the light from the lamp on the table inthe kitchen flare its light out through the kitchen door as Dadeentered; heard the door close. The lamp still burned after he had seenDade's shadow vanish, and he knew that Dade had gone upstairs. Dadehad left the light burning for him. 

Alone, Calumet rolled the cigarette he had promised himself, lit it, and then, in the flood of moonlight, walked slowly around thebunkhouse, estimating the material and work that would be necessary torepair it. Then, puffing at his cigarette, he made a round of thecorral fence. It was a long trip, and he stopped twice to roll newcigarettes before he circled it. Then he examined the stable. Thisfinished, he stepped over to the corral fence, leaned his arms on thetop rail, and, in the moonlight that came over his shoulder, reread hisfather's letter, making out the picturesque chirography with difficulty. 

As during the first days of his return, when he had watched the army ofmemories pass in review, he lingered over them now, and, to hissurprise, discovered that he felt some little regret over his ownconduct in those days preceding his leave-taking. To be sure, he hadbeen only a boy at that time, but he had been a man since, and the coldlight of reason should have shown him that there must have been causefor his father's brutal treatment of him--if indeed it had been brutal. In fact, if he had acted in his youth as he had acted since reachingmaturity, there was small reason to wonder that he had received blows. Boys needed to be reprimanded, punished, and perhaps he had deservedall he had received. 

The tone of his father's letters was distinctly sorrowful. Remorse, sincere remorse, had afflicted him. His father had been wronged, misled, betrayed, and humiliated by the Taggarts, and as Calumet stoodbeside the corral fence he found that all his rage--the bitter, malignant hatred which had once been in his heart against hisfather--had vanished, that it had been succeeded by an emotion that wasnew to him--pity. An hour, two hours, passed before he turned andwalked toward the ranchhouse. His lips were grim and white, tell-talesigns of a new resolve, as he stepped softly upon the rear porch, stealthily opened the kitchen door, and let himself in. He halted atthe table on which stood the kerosene lamp, looking at the chair inwhich he had been sitting some hours before talking to Betty, blinkingat the chair in which she had sat, summoning into his mind the pictureshe had made when he had voiced his suspicions about her knowledge ofthe contents of the letter she had given him. "Nobody but a fool couldhate Betty, " the letter had read. And at the instant he had read thewords he had known that he didn't hate her. But he was a fool, justthe same; he was a fool for treating her as he did--as Dade had said. He had known that all along; he knew that was the reason why he hadcurbed his rage when it would have driven him to commit some rashaction. He had been a fool, but had he let himself go he would havebeen a bigger one. 

Betty had appraised him correctly--"sized him up, " in Dade's idiomaticphraseology--and knew that his vicious impulses were surface ones thathad been acquired and not inherited, as he had thought. And he wasstrangely pleased. 

He looked once around the room, noting the spotless cleanliness of itbefore he blew out the light. And then he stepped across the floor andinto the dining-room, tip-toeing toward the stairs, that he mightawaken no one. But he halted in amazement when he reached a point nearthe center of the room, for he saw, under the threshold of the doorthat led from the dining-room to his father's office, a weak, flickering beam of light. 

The door was tightly closed. He knew from the fact that no light shonethrough it except from the space between the bottom of it and thethreshold that it was barred, for he had locked the door during thetime he was repairing the house, and had satisfied himself that itcould not be tightly closed unless barred. Someone was in the room, too. He heard the scuffle of a foot, the sound of a chair scraping onthe floor. He stood rigid in the darkness of the dining-room, straining his ears to catch another sound. 

For a long time he could hear only muffled undertones which, while theytold him that there were two or more persons in the room, gave him noclue to their identity. And then, as he moved closer to the door, hecaught a laugh, low, but clear and musical. 

It was Betty's! He had heard it often when she had been talking toDade; she had never laughed in that voice when talking to him!

He halted in his approach toward the door, watching the light under it, listening intently, afflicted with indecision. At first he felt only anatural curiosity over the situation, but as he continued to standthere he began to feel a growing desire to know who Betty was talkingto. To be sure, Betty had a right to talk to whom she pleased, butthis talk behind a barred door had an appearance of secrecy. And sincehe knew of no occasion for secrecy, the thing took on an element ofmystery which irritated him. He smiled grimly in the darkness, andwith infinite care sat down on the floor and removed his boots. Thenhe stole noiselessly over to the door and placed an ear against it. 

Almost instantly he heard a man's voice. He did not recognize it, butthe words were sufficiently clear and distinct. There was amusement inthem. 

"So you're stringin' him along all right, then?" said the voice. "I'vegot to hand it to you--you're some clever. "

"I am merely following instructions. " This in Betty's voice. 

The man chuckled. "He's a hard case. I expected he'd have you allfired out by this time. "

Betty laughed. "He is improving right along, " she said. "He broughtBob another dog to replace Lonesome. I felt sorry for him that night. "

"Well, " said the man, "I'm glad he's learnin'. I reckon he's someimpatient to find out where the idol is?"

"Rather, " said Betty. "And he wanted the money right away. "

The man laughed. "Well, " he said, "keep stringin' him along until weget ready to lift the idol from its hidin' place. I've been thinkin'that it'd be a good idea to take the durn thing over to Las Vegas an'sell it. The money we'd get for it would be safer in the bank than theidol where it is. An' we could take it out when we get ready. "

"No, " said Betty firmly; "we will leave the idol where it is. No onebut me knows, and I certainly will not tell. "

"You're the boss, " said the man. He laughed again, and then bothvoices became inaudible to Calumet. 

A cold, deadly rage seized Calumet. Betty was deceiving him, triflingwith him. Some plan that she had in mind with reference to him wasworking smoothly and well, so successfully that her confederate--forcertainly the man in the room with her must be that--was distinctlypleased. Betty, to use the man's words, was "stringing" him. In otherwords, she was making a fool of him!

Those half-formed good resolutions which Calumet had made a few minutesbefore entering the house had fled long ago; he snarled now as herealized what a fool he had been for making them. Betty had beenleading him on. He had been under the spell of her influence; he hadbeen allowing her to shape his character to her will; he was, or hadbeen, in danger of becoming a puppet which she could control by merelypulling some strings. She had been working on his better nature withselfish aims. 

Who was the man? Malcolm? Dade? He thought not; the voice soundedstrangely like Neal Taggart's. This suspicion enraged him, and hestepped back, intending to hurl himself against the door in an effortto smash it in. But he hesitated, leered cunningly at the door, andthen softly and swiftly made his way upstairs. 

He went first to his own room, for he half suspected that it might beDade who was downstairs with Betty, and if it was-- Well, just now heremembered vividly how Dade had defied him, and he made a mental vowthat if it were Dade who was with Betty the young man would leave theLazy Y before dawn quite suddenly. But it was not Dade. Dade was inbed, snoring, stretched out comfortably. 

Calumet slipped out of the room and went to Malcolm's. Both Bob andMalcolm were sound asleep. He hesitated for an instant, and then madehis way slowly downstairs. Again he listened at the door. Betty andthe man were still talking. 

Calumet found his boots. He decided not to put them on until he got tothe kitchen door, for he was determined to go around the outside of thehouse and lay in wait for Betty's confederate, and he did not want tomake any sound that would scare him off. He was proceeding stealthily, directing his course through the darkness by a stream of moonlight thatcame in through one of the kitchen windows, and had almost reached thekitchen door when his feet struck an obstruction--something soft andyielding. 

There was a sudden scurrying, a sharp, terrified yelp. 

Calumet cursed. It was Bob's pup. The animal planted himself in thestream of moonlight that came in through the window, facing Calumet andemitting a series of short, high-pitched, resentful barks. 

There was humor in this situation, but Calumet did not see it. Heheard a cry of surprise from the direction of the dining-room, and heturned just in time to see the office door closing on a flood of light. 

With savage energy and haste, he pulled on his boots, darted out of thehouse, ran across the rear porch, leaped down, and ran around thenearest corner of the house. As he ran he jerked his pistol from itsholster. 

When he got to the front of the house he bounded to the door of theoffice and threw it violently open, expecting to surprise Betty and herconfederate. He was confronted by a dense blackness. He dodged back, fearing a trap, and then lighted a match and held it around the cornerof one of the door jambs. After the match was burning well he threw itinto the room and then peered after it. There came no reply to thischallenge, and so he strode in boldly, lighting another match. 

The room was empty. 

He saw how it was. Betty and the man had heard the barking of the dogand had suspected the presence of an eavesdropper. The man had fled. Probably by this time Betty was in her room. Calumet went out upon theporch, leaped off, and ran around the house in a direction oppositethat which had marked his course when coming toward the front, coveringthe ground with long, swift strides. He reasoned that as he had seenno one leave the house from the other side or the front, whoever hadbeen with Betty had made his escape in this direction, and he drew abreath of satisfaction when, approaching some underbrush near thekitchen, he saw outlined in the moonlight the figure of a man on ahorse. 

The latter had evidently just mounted, for at the instant Calumet sawhim he had just settled into the saddle, one foot searching for astirrup. He was about seventy-five feet distant, and he turned atabout the instant that Calumet saw him. That instant was enough forCalumet, for as the man turned his face was bathed for a fraction of asecond in the moonlight, and Calumet recognized him. It was NealTaggart. 

Calumet halted. His six-shooter roared at the exact second that theman buried his spurs in the flanks of his horse and threw himselfforward upon its neck. 

The bullet must have missed him only by a narrow margin, but it didmiss, for he made no sign of injury. His instant action in throwinghimself forward had undoubtedly saved his life. Calumet swung thepistol over his head and brought it down to a quick level, whippinganother shot after the fleeing rider. But evidently the latter hadanticipated the action, for as he rode he jumped his horse from oneside to another, and as the distance was already great, and growinggreater, he made an elusive target. 

Calumet saw his failure and stood silent, watching until Taggart waswell out into the valley, riding hard, a cloud of dust enveloping him. A yell reached Calumet from the distance--derisive, defiant, mocking. Calumet cursed then, giving voice to his rage and disappointment. 

He went glumly around to the front of the house and closed the door tothe office. When he stepped off the porch, afterward, intending to goaround the way he had come in order to enter the house, he heard avoice above him, and turned to see Dade, his head sticking out of anupstairs window, his hair in disorder, his eyes bulging, a forty-fivegleaming in his hand. Back of him, his head over Dade's shoulder, stood Malcolm, and Bob's thin face showed between the two. 

At another window, one of the front ones, was Betty. Of the four whowere watching him, Betty seemed the least excited; it seemed to Calumetas he looked at her that there was some amusement in her eyes. 

"Lordy!" said Dade as Calumet looked up at him, "how you scairt me!Was it you shootin'? An' what in thunder was you shootin' _at_?"

"A snake, " said Calumet in a voice loud enough for Betty to hear. 

"A snake! Holy smoke!" growled Dade in disgust. "Wakin' people up atthis time of the night because you wanted to shoot at a measly snake. Tomorrow we'll lay off for an hour or so an' I'll take you where youcan shoot 'em to your heart's content. But, for the love of Pete, quitshootin' at 'em when a guy's asleep. "

Calumet looked up sardonically, not at Dade, but at Betty. "Was youall asleep?" he inquired in a voice of cold mockery. Even at thatdistance he saw Betty redden, and he laughed shortly. 

"A foxy snake, " he said; "one of them kind which goes roamin' around atnight. Lookin' for a mate, mebbe. " He turned abruptly, with a lastsneering look at Betty, and made his way around the house. 

CHAPTER XIV

JEALOUSY

Dade was asleep when Calumet got into bed, and he was still asleep whenCalumet awoke the next morning. Calumet descended to the kitchen. Whenhe opened the kitchen door Bob's dog ran between his legs and received akick that sent him, whining with pain and surprise, off the porch. 

Dominating everything in Calumet's mind this morning was the bitterconviction that Betty had deceived him. There had been ground forTaggart's talk in the Red Dog--he saw that now. Taggart and Betty wereleagued against him. When he had brought Taggart face to face with Bettythat morning more than a month ago the Arrow man had pretended insolencetoward Betty in order to allay any suspicion that Calumet might haveconcerning the real relations between them. It had been done cleverly, too, so cleverly that it had convinced him. When he remembered the cold, disdainful treatment that Betty had accorded Taggart that afternoon, healmost smiled--though the smile was not good to see. He had championedher--he knew now that it had been a serious championship--and by doing sohe had exposed himself to ridicule; to Betty's and Taggart's secret humor. 

He discovered an explanation for Betty's conduct while he fed and wateredBlackleg. It was all perfectly plain to him. Neither Betty nor Taggarthad expected him to return to the Lazy Y. Betty's actions on the nightof his arrival proved that. She had exhibited emotion entirely out ofreason. Undoubtedly she and Taggart had expected to wait the yearspecified in the will, certain that he would not appear to claim themoney or the idol, or they might have planned to leave before he couldreturn. But since he had surprised them by returning unexpectedly, itfollowed that they must reconstruct their plans; they would have to makeit impossible for him to comply with his father's wishes. They couldeasily do that, or thought they could, by making life at the ranchunbearable for him. That, he was convinced, was the reason that Bettyhad adopted her cold, severe, and contemptuous attitude toward him. Sheexpected he would find her nagging and bossing intolerable, that he wouldleave in a rage and allow her and Taggart to come into possession of theproperty. Neither she nor Taggart would dare make off with the money andthe idol as long as he was at the ranch, for they would fear hisvengeance. 

He thought his manner had already forced Betty to give him his father'sletters and admit the existence of the idol--she had been afraid to lieto him about them. And so Betty was "stringing" him along, as Taggarthad suggested, until he completed the repairs on the buildings, until hehad the ranch in such shape that it might be worked, and then at the endof the year Betty would tell him that his reformation had not beenaccomplished, and she and Taggart would take legal possession. 

But if that was their plan they were mistaken in their man. Until he hadworked out this solution of the situation he had determined to leave. Betty's deceit had disgusted him. But now, though there were faults inthe structure of the solution he had worked out, he was certain that theyintended working along those lines, and he was now equally determined tostay and see the thing out. 

Of course, Taggart was trying to make a fool of Betty--that was all tooevident. A man who has serious intentions--honorable intentions--towarda girl does not talk about her to his friends as Taggart had talked. Taggart did not care for her; he was merely planning to gain herconfidence that he might gain possession of the money and the idol. Thevery fact that he was meeting Betty secretly proved that she had notgiven him the treasure. Perhaps she had doubts of him and was delaying. Yes, that was the explanation. Well, he would see that Taggart wouldnever get the treasure. 

He went in to breakfast and watched Betty covertly during the meal. Shewas trying to appear unconcerned, but it was plain to see that herunconcern was too deep to be genuine, and it moved Calumet to malevolentsarcasm. 

"Nothin' is botherin' you this mornin', I reckon?" he said to her oncewhen he caught her looking at him. "Clear conscience, eh?" he added asshe flushed. 

"What should bother me?" she asked, looking straight at him. 

"I was thinkin' that mebbe the racket I was makin' tryin' to kill thatsnake might have bothered--"

To his surprise, she pressed her lips tightly together, and he could seemirth in her eyes--mocking mirth. 

"You are talking in riddles, " she said quietly. 

So then she was going to deny it? Wrath rose in him. 

"Riddles, eh?" he said. "Well, riddles--"

"That reptile was sure botherin' you a heap, " cut in Dade; and Calumetshot a quick glance at him, wondering whether he, also, was a party tothe plot to "string" him. 

He thought he detected gratitude in Betty's eyes as she smiled at Dade, but he was not certain. He said no more on the subject--then. Butshortly after the conclusion of the meal he contrived to come upon Bettyoutside the house. She was hanging a dish towel from a line thatstretched from a corner of the porch to the stable. 

Looking at her as he approached, he was conscious that there wassomething more than rage in his heart against her for her duplicity;there was a gnawing disappointment and regret. It was as though he waslosing something he valued. But he put this emotion away from him as hefaced her. 

"You're damn slick, " he said; "slicker than I thought you was. But Iain't lettin' you think that you're stringin' me like you thought youwas. " He put vicious and significant emphasis on the word, and when hesaw her start he knew she divined that he had overheard the conversationbetween her and Taggart. 

Her face flushed. "You were listening, then, " she said with coldcontempt. 

"I ain't ashamed of it, either, " he shot back. "When a man's dealin'with crooks like--" He hesitated, and then gave a venomous accent to thewords--"like you an' Taggart, he can't be over-scrupulous. I was surelistenin'. I heard Taggart ask you if you was still stringin' me. If ithadn't been for that new pup which I just brought Bob I'd have done whatI was goin'--"

He stopped talking and looked sharply at her, for a change had come overher. In her eyes was that expression of conscious advantage which he hadnoticed many times before. She seemed to be making a great effort tosuppress some emotion, and was succeeding, too, for when she spoke hervoice was low and well controlled. 

"So you heard Taggart talking to me?" she mocked, mirth in her eyes. "And you shot at him? Is that it? Well, what of it? I do not have toaccount to you for my actions!"

He laughed. "Nothin' of it, I reckon. But if you're stuck on him, whydon't you come out in the open, instead of sneakin' around? You made itpretty strong the day I smashed his face for talkin' about you. I reckonhe had some grounds. "

He was talking now to hurt her; there was a savage desire in his heart togoad her to anger. 

But he did not succeed. Her face paled a little at his brutal words, atthe insult they implied, and she became a little rigid, her lipsstiffening. But suddenly she smiled, mockingly, with irritatingunconcern. 

"If I didn't know that you hate me as you do I should be inclined tothink that you are jealous. Are you?"

He straightened in astonishment. Her manner was not that of the womanwho is caught doing something dishonorable; it was the calm poise ofsturdy honesty at bay. But while he was mystified, he was not convinced. She had hit the mark, he knew, but he laughed harshly. 

"Jealous!" he said; "jealous of you? I reckon you've got a good opinionof yourself! You make me sick. I just want to put you wise a few. Youdon't need to try to pull off any of that sweet innocence stuff on me anymore. You're deep an' slick, but I've sized you up. You made a monkeyof the old man; you made him think like you're tryin' to make me think, that you're sacrificin' yourself. 

"You soft-soaped him into smearin' a heap of mush into his letters to me. It's likely you wrote them yourself. An' you hoodwinked him into givin'you the money an' the idol so's you an' Taggart could divvy up after youput me out of the runnin'. Goin' to reform me! I reckon if I was anangel I'd have to have a recommendation from the Lord before you'd agreethat I'd reformed. You couldn't be pried loose from that coin with acrow-bar!"

He turned from her, baffled, for it was apparent from the expression ofmirth deep in her eyes that his attack had made no impression on her. 

Calumet went to the stable and threw a bridle on Blackleg. While he wasplacing the saddle on the animal he hesitated and stood regarding it withindecision. He had intended to refuse to accept Betty's orders in thefuture; had decided that he would do no more work on the buildings. Buthe was not the Calumet of old, who did things to suit himself, indefiance to the opinions and wishes of other people. Betty had thrown aspell over him; he discovered that in spite of his discovery he felt likeaccommodating his movements to her desires. It was a mystery thatmaddened him; he seemed to be losing his grip on himself, and, though hefought against it, he found that he dreaded her disapproval, her sarcasm, and her taunts. 

It seemed to him puerile, ridiculous, to think of refusing to continuewith the work he had started. As long as he was going to stay at theLazy Y he might as well keep on. Betty would surely laugh at him if herefused to go on. He fought it out and took a long time to it, but hefinally pulled the saddle from Blackleg and hitched the two horses to thewagon. When he drove out of the ranchhouse yard he saw Betty watchinghim from one of the kitchen windows. He felt like cursing her, but didnot. 

"I reckon, " he said as he curled the lash of the whip viciously over theshoulders of the horses, "that she's got me locoed. Well, " he cogitated, "any woman's liable to stampede a man, an' I ain't the first guy that'shad his doubts whether he's a coyote or a lion after he's been herd-rodeby a petticoat. I'm waitin' her out. But Taggart--" The frown on hisface indicated that his intentions toward the latter were perfectly clear. 

CHAPTER XV

A MEETING IN THE RED DOG

Of the good resolutions that Calumet had made since the night before, when he had re-read his father's letter in the moonlight while standingbeside the corral fence, none had survived. Black, vicious thoughtsfilled his mind as he drove toward Lazette. When the wagon reached thecrest of a slope about a mile out of town, Calumet halted the horsesand rolled a cigarette, a sullen look in his eyes, unrelieved by theprospect before him. 

By no stretch of the imagination could Lazette be called attractive. It lay forlorn and dismal at the foot of the slope, its forty or morebuildings dingy, unpainted, ugly, scattered along the one street asthough waiting for the encompassing desolation to engulf them. Twoserpentine lines of steel, glistening in the sunlight, came from somemysterious distance across the dead level of alkali, touched the edgeof town where rose a little red wooden station and a water tank of thesame color, and then bent away toward some barren hills, where theyvanished. 

Calumet proceeded down the slope, halting at the lumber yard, where heleft his wagon and orders for the material he wanted. Across thestreet from the lumber yard was a building on which was a sign: "TheChance Saloon. " Toward this Calumet went after leaving his wagon. Hehesitated for an instant on the sidewalk, and a voice, seeming to comefrom nowhere in particular, whispered in his ear:

"Neal Taggart's layin' for you!"

When Calumet wheeled, his six-shooter was in his hand. At hisshoulder, having evidently followed him from across the street, stood aman. He was lean-faced, hardy-looking, with a strong, determined jawand steady, alert eyes. He was apparently about fifty years of age. He grinned at Calumet's belligerent motion. 

"Hearin' me?" he said to Calumet's cold, inquiring glance. 

The latter's eyes glowed. "Layin' for me, eh? Thanks. " He lookedcuriously at the other. "Who are you?" he said. 

"I'm Dave Toban, the sheriff. " He threw back one side of his vest andrevealed a small silver star. 

"Correct, " said Calumet; "how you knowin' me?"

"Knowed your dad, " said the sheriff. "You look a heap like him. Besides, " he added as his eyes twinkled, "there ain't no one else inthis section doin' any buildin' now. "

"I'm sure much obliged for your interest, " said Calumet. "An' soTaggart's lookin' for me?"

"Been in town a week, " continued the sheriff. "Been makin' his bragswhat he's goin' to do to you. Says you wheedled him into comin' overto the Lazy Y an' then beat him up. Got Denver Ed with him. "

Calumet's eyes narrowed. "I know him, " he said. 

"Gun-fighter, ain't he?" questioned the sheriff. 

"Yep. " Calumet's eyelashes flickered; he smiled with straight lips. "Drinkin'?" he invited. 

"Wouldn't do, " grinned the sheriff. "Publicly, I ain't takin' no side. Privately, I'm feelin' different. Knowed your dad. Taggart's badmedicine for this section. Different with you. "

"How different?"

"Straight up. Anybody that lives around Betty Clayton's got to be. "

Calumet looked at him with a crooked smile. "I reckon, " he said, "thatyou don't know any more about women than I do. So-long, " he added. Hewent into the "Chance" saloon, leaving the sheriff looking after himwith a queer smile. 

Ten minutes later when Calumet came out of the saloon the sheriff wasnowhere in sight. 

Calumet went over to where his wagon stood and, concealed behind it, took a six-shooter from under his shirt at the waistband and placed itcarefully in a sling under the right side of his vest. Then he removedthe cartridges from the weapon in the holster at his hip, smilingmirthlessly as he replaced it in the holster and made his way up thestreet. 

With apparent carelessness, though keeping an alert eye about him, hewent the rounds of the saloons. Before he had visited half of themthere was an air of suppressed excitement in the manner of Lazette'scitizens, and knowledge of his errand went before him. In the saloonsthat he entered men made way for him, looking at him with interest ashe peered with impersonal intentness at them, or, standing in doorways, they watched him in silence as he departed, and then fell to talking inwhispers. He knew what was happening--Lazette had heard what Taggarthad been saying about him, and was keeping aloof, giving him a clearfield. 

Presently he entered the Red Dog. 

There were a dozen men here, drinking, playing cards, gambling. Thetalk died away as he entered; men sat silently at the tables, seemingto look at their cards, but in reality watching him covertly. Othermen got up from their chairs and walked, with apparent unconcern, awayfrom the center of the room, so that when Calumet carelessly tossed acoin on the bar in payment for a drink which he ordered, only three menremained at the bar with him. 

He had taken quick note of these men. They were Neal Taggart; a tall, lanky, unprepossessing man with a truculent eye rimmed by lashlesslids, and with a drooping mustache which almost concealed the cruelcurve of his lips, whom he knew as Denver Ed--having met him severaltimes in the Durango country; and a medium-sized stranger whom he knewas Garvey. The latter was dark-complexioned, with a hook nose and aloose-lipped mouth. 

Calumet did not appear to notice them. He poured his glass full andlifted it, preparatory to drinking. Before it reached his lips hebecame aware of a movement among the three men--Garvey had left themand was standing beside him. 

"Have that on me, " said Garvey, silkily, to Calumet. 

Calumet surveyed him with a glance of mild interest. He set his glassdown, and the other silently motioned to the bartender for another. 

"Stranger here, I reckon?" said Garvey as he poured his whiskey. "Where's your ranch?"

"The Lazy Y, " said Calumet. 

The other filled his glass. "Here's how, " he said, and tilted ittoward his lips. Calumet did likewise. If he felt the man's hand onthe butt of the six-shooter at his hip, he gave no indication of it. Nor did he seem to exhibit any surprise or concern when, after drinkingand setting the glass down, he looked around to see that Garvey haddrawn the weapon out and was examining it with apparently casualinterest. 

This action on the part of Garvey was unethical and dangerous, andthere were men among the dozen in the room who looked sneeringly atCalumet, or to one another whispered the significant words, "greenhorn"and "tenderfoot. " Others, to whom the proprietor had spoken concerningCalumet, looked at him in surprise. Still others merely stared atGarvey and Calumet, unable to account for the latter's mild submissionto this unallowed liberty. The proprietor alone, remembering a certaingleam in Calumet's eyes on a former occasion, looked at him now and sawdeep in his eyes a slumbering counterpart to it, and discreetly retiredto the far end of the bar, where there was a whiskey barrel in front ofhim. 

But Calumet seemed unconcerned. 

"Some gun, " remarked Garvey. It was strange, though, that he was notlooking at the weapon at all, or he might have seen the empty chambers. He was looking at Calumet, and it was apparent that his interest in theweapon was negative. 

"Yes, some, " agreed Calumet. He swung around and faced the man, leaning his left arm carelessly on the bar. 

At that instant Denver Ed sauntered over and joined them. He lookedonce at Calumet, and then his gaze went to Garvey as he spoke. 

"Friend of yourn?" he questioned. There was marked deference in themanner of Garvey. He politely backed away, shifting his position sothat Denver Ed faced Calumet at a distance of several feet, with noobstruction between them. 

Calumet's eyes met Denver's, and he answered the latter's question, Garvey having apparently withdrawn from the conversation. 

"Friend of _his_?" sneered Calumet, grinning shallowly. "I reckon not;I'm pickin' my company. "

Denver Ed did not answer at once. He moved a little toward Calumet andshoved his right hip forward, so that the butt of his six-shooter wasinvitingly near. Then, with his hands folded peacefully over hischest, he spoke:

"You do, " he said, "you mangy ------!"

There was a stir among the onlookers as the vile epithet was applied. Calumet's right hand went swiftly forward and his fingers closed aroundthe butt of the weapon at Denver Ed's hip. The gun came out with ajerk and lay in Calumet's hand. Calumet began to pull the trigger. The dull, metallic impact of the hammer against empty chambers was theonly result. 

Denver Ed grinned malignantly as his right hand stole into his vest. There was a flash of metal as he drew the concealed gun, but before itsmuzzle could be trained on Calumet the latter pressed the empty weaponin his own hand against the one that Denver Ed was attempting to draw, blocking its egress; while in Calumet's left hand the six-shooter whichhe had concealed under his own vest roared spitefully within a foot ofDenver Ed's chest. 

Many in the room saw the expression of surprise in Denver Ed's eye ashe pitched forward in a heap at Calumet's feet. There were others whosaw Garvey raise the six-shooter which he had drawn from Calumet'sholster. All heard the hammer click impotently on the empty chambers;saw Calumet's own weapon flash around and cover Garvey; saw theflame-spurt and watched Garvey crumple and sink. 

There was a dead silence. Taggart had not moved. Calumet's gaze wentfrom the two fallen men and rested on his father's enemy. 

"Didn't work, " he jeered. "They missed connections, didn't they?You'll get yours if you ain't out of town by sundown. Layin' for mefor a week, eh? You sufferin' sneak, thinkin' I was born yesterday!"He ignored Taggart and looked coolly around at his audience, not a manof which had moved. He saw the sheriff standing near the door, and itwas to him that he spoke. 

"Frame-up, " he said in short, sharp accents. "Back Durango way Denveran' the little guy pulled it off regular. Little man gets your gun. Denver gets you riled. Sticks his hip out so's you'll grab his gun. You do. Gun's empty. But you don't know it, an' you try to perforateDenver. Then he pulls another gun an' salivates you. Self-defense. "He looked around with a cold grin. "Planted an empty on him myself, "he said. "The little guy fell for it. So did Denver. I reckon that'sall. You wantin' me for this?" he inquired of the sheriff. "You'llfind me at the Lazy Y. Taggart--" He hesitated and looked around. Taggart was nowhere to be seen. "Sloped, " added Calumet, with a laugh. 

"I don't reckon I'll want you, " said Toban. "Clear case ofself-defense. I reckon most everybody saw the play. Some raw. "

Several men had moved; one of them was peering at the faces of Denverand Garvey. He now looked up at the sheriff. 

"Nothing botherin' them any more, " he said. 

Calumet stepped over to Denver's confederate and took up the pistolfrom the floor near him, replacing it in his holster. By this time thecrowd in the saloon was standing near the two gunmen, commentinggravely or humorously, according to its whim. 

"Surprise party for him, " suggested one, pointing to Denver. 

"Didn't tickle him a heap, though, " said another. "Seemed plumbshocked an' disappointed, if you noticed his face. "

"Slick, " said another, pointing to Calumet, who had turned his back andwas walking toward the door; "cool as ice water. "

Sudden death had no terrors for these men; there was no inclination intheir minds to blame Calumet, and so they watched with admiration forhis poise as he stepped out through the door. 

"Taggart'll be gettin' his, " said a man. 

"Not tonight, " laughed another. "I seen him hittin' the breeze out. An' sundown's quite a considerable distance away yet, too. "

CHAPTER XVI

THE AMBUSH

If Calumet had any regret over the outcome of his adventure in the RedDog, it was that Neal Taggart had given him no opportunity to squarethe account between them. Calumet had lingered in town until dusk, forhe had given his word and would not break it, and then, it beingcertain that his enemy had decided not to accept the challenge, hehitched his horses and just after dusk pulled out for the Lazy Y. Something had been added to the debt of hatred which he owed theTaggarts. 

As he drove through the darkening land he yielded to a deepsatisfaction. He had struck one blow, a sudden and decisive one, and, though it had not landed on either of the Taggarts, it had at leastshown them what they might expect. He intended to deliver other blows, and he was rather glad now that he had not been so weak as to allowBetty's dictatorial attitude to drive him from the ranch, for in thatcase he would never have discovered the plot to cheat him of hisheritage--would not have been in a position to bring discomfiture andconfusion upon them all. That was what he was determined to do. Therewas no plan in his mind; he was merely going to keep his eyes open, andwhen opportunity came he was going to take advantage of it. 

The darkness deepened as he drove. When he reached the crest of theslope from which that morning he had looked down upon Lazette, thewagon entered a stretch of broken country through which the horses madeslow progress. After traversing this section he encountered a flat, dull plain of sand, hard and smooth, which the horses appreciated, forthey traveled rapidly, straining willingly in the harness. 

It was about nine o'clock when the moon rose, a pale yellow disk abovethe hills that rimmed the valley of the Lazy Y, and Calumet welcomed itwith a smile, lighting a cigarette and leaning back comfortably in theseat, with the reins held between his knees. 

He presently thought of his weapons, drawing them out and reloadingthem. They recalled the incident of the Red Dog, and for a long timehis thoughts dwelt on it, straight, grim lines in his face. 

He wondered what Betty would say when she heard of it. Would it affecther future relations with Taggart? His thoughts were still of Bettywhen the wagon careened out of the level and began to crawl up a slopethat led through some hills. The trail grew hazardous, and the horseswere forced to proceed slowly. It was near midnight when the wagondipped into a little gully about a mile and a half from the ranchhouse. Calumet halted the horses at the bottom of the gully, allowing them todrink from the shallow stream that trickled on its way to meet theriver which passed through the wood near the ranchhouse. 

After the animals had drunk their fill he urged them on again, for hewas weary of the ride and anxious to have it over with. It was a longpull, however, and the horses made hard work of it, so that when theyreached the crest of the rise they halted of their own accord and stoodwith their legs braced, breathing heavily. 

Calumet waited patiently. He was anxious to get to the Lazy Y, but hissympathy was with the horses. He rolled and lighted another cigarette, holding the match concealed in the palm of his hand so that the breezemight not extinguish it. 

Sitting thus, a premonition of danger oppressed him with such force andsuddenness that it caused him to throw himself quickly backward. Atthe exact instant that his back struck the lumber piled behind him heheard the sharp, vicious crack of a rifle, and a bullet thudded dullyinto one of the wooden stanchions of the wagon frame at the edge of theseat. Another report followed it quickly, and Calumet flung himselfheadlong toward the rear of the wagon, where he lay for a briefinstant, alert, rigid, too full of rage for utterance. 

But he was not too angry to think. The shots, he knew, had come fromthe left of the wagon. They had been too close for comfort, andwhoever had shot at him was a good enough marksman, although, hethought, with a bitter grin, a trifle too slow of movement to do anydamage to him. 

His present position was precarious and he did not stay long in it. Close to the side of the wagon--the side opposite that from which theshots had come--was a shallow gully, deep enough to conceal himself inand fringed at the rear by several big boulders. It was an idealposition and Calumet did not hesitate to take advantage of it. Dropping from the rear of the wagon, he made a leap for the gully, landing in its bottom upon all fours. He heard a crash, and a bulletflattened itself against one of the rocks above his head. 

"He ain't so slow, after all, " he admitted grudgingly, referring to theconcealed marksman. 

He kneeled in the gully and looked cautiously over its edge. The wagonwas directly in front of him; part of one of the rear wheels was in hisline of vision. The horses were standing quietly, undisturbed by theshots. He resolved to keep them where they were, and, exercising thegreatest care, he found a good-sized rock and stuck it under the frontof the rear wheel nearest him, thus blocking the wagon against themshould they become restless. 

The moon was at his back, and he grinned with satisfaction as he notedthat the rocks behind him threw a deep shadow into the gully. He couldnot help thinking that his enemy, whoever he was, had not made a happyselection of a spot for an ambuscade, for the moonlight's glarerevealed every rock on the other side of the wagon, and the few treesin the wood behind the rocks were far too slender to provide shelterfor a man of ordinary size. Calumet chuckled grimly as, with his headslightly above the edge of the gully and concealed behind the felloesof the wagon wheel, he made an examination of the rocks beyond thewagon. 

There were four of the rocks which were of sufficient size to affordconcealment for a man. They varied in size and were ranged along theside of the trail in an irregular line. All were about a hundred feetdistant. 

The smaller one, he decided, was not to be considered, though he lookedsuspiciously at it before making his decision. Its neighbor waslarger, though he reasoned that if he were to make a selection for anambuscade he would not choose that one either. The other two rockswere almost the same size and he watched them warily. To the right andleft of these rocks was a clear space, flat and open, with not a treeor a bush large enough to conceal danger such as he was in search of. The slope up which he had just driven the horses was likewise free fromobstruction, so that if his enemy was behind any of the rocks he wasdoomed to stay there or offer himself as a target for Calumet's pistol. 

"Wise, I reckon, " he sneered. "Figgered to plug me while the horseswas restin', knowin' I'd have to breathe them about here. Thought oneshot would get me. Missed his reckonin'. Must be a mite peeved bythis time. "

His gaze became intent again, but this time it was directed to someunderbrush about two hundred yards distant, back of the rocks. Withsome difficulty he could make out the shape of a horse standing wellback in the brush, and again he grinned. 

"That's why he took that side, " he said. "There's no place on thisside where he could hide his horse. It's plumb simple. "

From where he kneeled began another slope that descended to the Lazy Yvalley. It dipped gently down into the wood in front of the house, where he had hitched his horse on the night of his home-coming, andbetween the trees he could see a light flickering. The light came fromthe kitchen window of the ranch-house; Betty had left it burning forhim, expecting him to return shortly after dusk. The house was notmore than a mile distant and he wondered at the hardihood of his enemyin planning to ambush him so close to his home. He reflected, though, that it was not likely that the shots could be heard from the house, for the spot on which the wagon stood was several hundred feet abovethe level of the valley, and then there was the intervening wood, whichwould dull whatever sound might float in that direction. 

Who could his assailant be? Why, it was Taggart, of course. Taggarthad left town hours before him, he was a coward, and shooting fromambush is a coward's game. 

Calumet's blood leaped a little faster in his veins. He would settlefor good with Neal Taggart. But he did not move except to draw one ofhis six-shooters and push its muzzle over the edge of the gully. Heshoved his arm slowly forward so that it lay extended along the groundthe barrel of the pistol resting on the felloes of the wheel. 

In this position he remained for half an hour. No sound broke thestrained stillness of the place. The horses had sagged forward, theirheads hanging, their legs braced. There was no cloud in the sky andthe clear light of the moon poured down in a yellow flood. Calumet'stask would have been easier if he could have told which of the fourrocks concealed his enemy. As it was he was compelled to watch themall. 

But presently, at the edge of one of the two larger rocks, the onenearest the slope, he detected movement. A round object a foot indiameter, came slowly into view from behind the rock, propelled by anunseen force. It was shoved out about three quarters of its width, sothat it overlapped the big rock beside it, leaving an aperture betweenthe two of perhaps three or four inches. While Calumet watched a riflebarrel was stuck into this aperture. Calumet waited until the muzzleof the rifle became steady and then he took quick aim at the spot andpulled the trigger of his six-shooter, ducking his head below the edgeof the gully as his weapon crashed. 

He heard a laugh, mocking, discordant, followed by a voice--Taggart'svoice. 

"Clean miss, " it said. "You're nervous. "

"Like you was in town today, " jeered Calumet. 

"Then you know me?" returned Taggart. "I ain't admittin' that I wasany nervous. "

"Scared of the dark, then, " said Calumet. "You left town a whole lotpunctual. "

"Well, " sneered Taggart; "mebbe I ain't much on the shoot. I don'tplay any man's game but my own. "

"You're right, " mocked Calumet; "you don't play no man's game. A man'sgame--"

He raised his head a trifle and a bullet sang past it, flattened itselfagainst the rock behind him, cutting short his speech and his humor atthe same instant. The gully was fully fifty feet long and he droppedon his hands and knees and crawled to the upper end of it, away fromthe slope. He saw one of Taggart's feet projecting from behind therock and he brought his six-shooter to a poise. The foot moved anddisappeared. Catching a glimpse of the rifle barrel coming into viewaround the edge of the rock, Calumet sank back into the gully. Fifteenminutes later when he again cautiously raised his head above the levelthere was no sign of Taggart. He dropped down into the gully again andscrambled to the other end of it, raising his head again. He sawTaggart, twenty-five feet behind the rock, backing away toward the woodwhere his horse stood, crouching, watchful, endeavoring to keep therock between him and Calumet while he retreated. Altogether, he wasfully a hundred and twenty-five feet away at the moment Calumet caughtsight of him, and he was looking toward the end of the gully thatCalumet had just vacated. Calumet stood erect and snapped a shot athim, though the distance was so great that he had little expectation ofdoing any damage. 

But Taggart staggered, dropped his rifle and dove headlong toward therock. In an instant he had resumed his position behind it, and Calumetcould tell from the rapidity of his movements that he had not been hit. He saw the rifle lying where it had fallen, and he was meditating aquick rush toward the rock when he saw Taggart's hand come out andgrasp the stock of the weapon, dragging it back to him. Calumetwhipped a bullet at the hand, but the only result was a small dustcloud beside it. 

"In a hurry, Taggart?" he jeered. "Aw, don't be. This is the most funI've had since I've been back in the valley. An' you want to spoil itby hittin' the breeze. Hang around a while till I get my hand in. Ireckon you ain't hurt?" he added, putting a little anxiety into hisvoice. 

"Hurt nothin', " growled Taggart. "You hit the stock of the rifle. "

"I reckon that wouldn't be accounted bad shootin' at a hundred an'twenty-five feet, " said Calumet. "If you hadn't had the rifle in theway you'd have got it plumb in your bread-basket. But don't bedown-hearted; that ain't nothin' to what I can do when I get my handin. I ain't had no practice. "

He had an immense advantage over Taggart. The latter was compelled toremain concealed behind his rock, while Calumet had the freedom of thegully. He did not anticipate that Taggart would again attempt toretreat in the same way, nor did he think that he would risk charginghim, for he would not be certain at what point in the gully he would belikely to find his enemy and thus a charge would probably resultdisastrously for him. 

Taggart was apparently satisfied of the watchfulness of Calumet, for hestayed discreetly behind his rock. Twice during the next hour hisrifle cracked when he caught a glimpse of Calumet's head, and each timehe knew he had missed, for Calumet's laugh followed the reports. Once, after a long interval of silence, thinking that Calumet was at theother end of the gully, he moved the small rock which he had pushedbeyond the edge of the large one, using his rifle barrel as a prod. Abullet from Calumet's pistol struck the rock, glanced from it andseared the back of his hand, bringing a curse to his lips. 

"Told you so, " came Calumet's voice. "I hope it ain't nothin' serious. But I'm gettin' my hand in. "

This odd duel continued with long lapses of silence while the moon grewto a disk of pale, liquid silver in the west, enduring through thebleak, chill time preceding the end of night, finally fading anddisappearing as the far eastern distance began to glow with the graylight of dawn. 

Calumet's cold humor had not survived the night. He patrolled thegully during the slow-dragging hours of the early morning with agrowing caution and determination, his lips setting always into harderlines, his eyes beginning to blaze with a ferocity that promised illfor Taggart. 

Shortly after dawn, kneeling in the gully at the end toward theranchhouse, he heard the wagon move. He looked up to see that thehorses had started, evidently with the intention of completing theirdelayed journey to the stable, where they would find the food and waterwhich they no doubt craved. As the wagon bumped over the obstructionwhich Calumet had placed in front of the rear wheel, he was on theverge of shouting to the horses to halt, but thought better of it, watching them in silence as they made their way slowly down the slope. 

It took them a long time to reach the level of the valley, and thenthey passed slowly through the wood, going as steadily as though therewas a driver on the seat behind them, and finally they turned into theranchhouse yard and came to a halt near the kitchen door. 

Calumet watched them until they came to a stop and then he went to theopposite end of the gully, peeping above it in order to learn of thewhereabouts of Taggart. He saw no signs of him and returned to theother end of the gully. 

Taggart, he suspected, could not see where the wagon had gone and nodoubt was filled with curiosity. Neither could Taggart see theranchhouse, for there were intervening hills and the slope itself was aridge which effectually shut off Taggart's view. But neither hills orridge were in Calumet's line of vision. Kneeling in the gully hewatched the wagon. Presently he saw Betty come out and stand on theporch. She looked at the wagon for a moment and then went towardit--Calumet could see her peer around the canvas side at the seat. After a moment she left the wagon and walked to the stable, lookingwithin. Then she took a turn around the ranchhouse yard, stopping atthe bunkhouse and looking over the corral fence. She returned to thewagon and stood beside it as though pondering. Calumet grinned inamusement. She was wondering what had become of him. His grin was cutshort by the crash of Taggart's rifle and he dodged down, realizingthat in his curiosity to see what Betty was doing he had inadvertentlyexposed himself. A hole in his shirt sleeve near the shouldertestified to his narrow escape. 

His rage against Taggart was furious and with a grimace at him heturned again to the ranchhouse. Betty had left the wagon and hadwalked several steps toward him, standing rigid, shading her eyes withher hands. Apparently she had heard the report of the rifle and waswondering what it meant. At that instant Calumet looked over the edgeof the gully to see Taggart shoving the muzzle of his rifle around theside of the rock. Its report mingled with the roar of Calumet's pistol. 

Taggart yelled with pain and rage and flopped back out of sight, whileCalumet laid an investigating hand on his left shoulder, which felt asthough it had been seared by a red-hot iron. 

He kneeled in the gully and tore the cloth away. The wound was aslight one and he sneered at it. He made his way to the other end ofthe gully, expecting that Taggart, if injured only slightly, mightagain attempt a retreat, but he did not see him and came back to theend nearest the ranchhouse. Then he saw Betty running toward him, carrying a rifle. 

At this evidence of meditated interference in his affairs a new rageafflicted Calumet. He motioned violently for her to keep away, andwhen he saw Dade run out of the house after her, also with a rifle inhand, he motioned again. But it was evident that they took his motionsto mean that they were not to approach him in that direction, for theychanged their course and swung around toward the rocks at his rear. 

Furious at their obstinacy, or lack of perception, Calumet watchedtheir approach with glowering glances. When they came near enough forhim to make himself heard he yelled savagely at them. 

"Get out of here, you damned fools!" he said; "do you want to get hurt?"

They continued to come on in spite of this warning, but when theyreached the foot of the little slope that led to the ridge at the edgeof which was Calumet's gully, they halted, looking up at Calumetinquiringly. The ridge towered above their heads, and so they were inno danger, but Betty halted only for a moment and then continued toapproach until she stood on the ridge, exposed to Taggart's fire. But, of course, Taggart would not fire at her. 

"What's wrong?" she demanded of Calumet; "what were you shooting at?"

"Friend of yours, " he said brusquely. 

"Who?"

"Neal Taggart. We've been picnicin' all night. "

Her face flooded with color, but paled instantly. Calumet thoughtthere was reproach in the glance she threw at him, but he did not havetime to make certain, for at the instant she looked at him she dartedtoward a rock about ten feet distant, no doubt intending to concealherself behind it. 

Calumet watched her. When she gained the shelter of the rock she wasabout to kneel in some fringing mesquite at its base when she heardCalumet yell at her. She turned, hesitating in the act of kneeling, and looked at Calumet. His face was ashen. His heavy pistol pointedin her direction; it seemed that its muzzle menaced her. Shestraightened, anger in her eyes, as the weapon crashed. 

Her knees shook, she covered her face with her hands to shut out thereeling world, for she thought that in his rage he was shooting at her. But in the next instant she felt his arms around her; she was squeezeduntil she thought her bones were being crushed, and in the same instantshe was lifted, swung clear of the ground and set suddenly down again. She opened her eyes, her whole body trembling with wrath, to look atCalumet, within a foot of her. But he was not looking at her; his gazewas fixed with sardonic satisfaction upon a huge rattler which waswrithing in the throes of death at the base of the rock where she hadbeen about to kneel. Its head had been partly severed from its bodyand while she looked Calumet's pistol roared again and its destructionwas completed. 

She was suddenly faint; the world reeled again. But the sensationpassed quickly and she saw Calumet standing close to her, looking ather with grim disapprobation. Apparently he had forgotten his dangerin his excitement over hers. 

"I told you not to come here, " he said. 

But a startled light leaped into her eyes at the words. Calumet swungaround as he saw her rifle swing to her shoulder. He saw Taggart nearthe edge of the wood, two hundred yards away, kneeling, his rifleleveled at them. He yelled to Betty but she did not heed him. Taggart's bullet sang over his head as the gun in Betty's handscrashed. Taggart stood quickly erect, his rifle dropped from his handsas he ran, staggering from side to side, to his horse. He mounted andfled, his pony running desperately, accompanied by the music of a riflethat suddenly began popping on the other side of Calumet--Dade's. Butthe distance was great, the target elusive, and Dade's bullets sangfutilely. 

They watched Taggart until he vanished, his pony running steadily alonga far level, and then Betty turned to see Calumet looking at her with atwisted, puzzled smile. 

"You plugged him, I reckon, " he said, nodding toward the vast distanceinto which his enemy was disappearing. "Why, it's plumb ridiculous. If my girl would plug me that way, I'd sure feel--"

His meaning was plain, though he did not finish. She looked at himstraight in the eyes though her face was crimson and her lips trembleda little. 

"You are a brute!" she said. Turning swiftly she began to descend theslope toward the ranchhouse. 

Calumet stood looking after her for a moment, his face working withvarious emotions that struggled for expression. Then, ignoring Dade, who stood near him, plainly puzzled over this enigma, he walked over tothe edge of the wood where Taggart's rifle lay, picked it up and madehis way to the ranchhouse. 

CHAPTER XVII

MORE PROGRESS

A strange thing was happening to Calumet. His character was in theprocess of remaking. Slowly and surely Betty's good influence wasmaking itself felt. This in spite of his knowledge of her secretmeeting with Neal Taggart. To be sure, so far as his actions wereconcerned, he was the Calumet of old, a man of violent temper andvicious impulses, but there were growing governors that werecontinually slowing his passions, strange, new thoughts that werethrusting themselves insistently before him. He was strangelyuncertain of his attitude toward Betty, disturbed over his feelingstoward her. Despite his knowledge of her secret meeting with Taggart, with a full consciousness of all the rage against her which thatknowledge aroused in him, he liked her. At the same time, he despisedher. She was not honest. He had no respect for any woman who wouldsneak as she had sneaked. She was two-faced; she was trying to cheathim out of his heritage. She had deceived his father, she was tryingto deceive him. She was unworthy of any admiration whatever, butwhenever he looked at her, whenever she was near him, he was consciousof a longing that he could not fight down. 

And there was Dade. He often watched Dade while they were workingtogether on the bunkhouse in the days following the incident of theambush by Taggart. The feeling that came over him at these times wasindescribable and disquieting, as was his emotion whenever Dade smiledat him. He had never experienced the deep, stirring spirit ofcomradeship, the unselfish affection which sometimes unites the heartsof men; he had had no "chum" during his youth. But this feeling thatcame over him whenever he looked at Dade was strangely like that whichhe had for his horse, Blackleg. It was deeper, perhaps, and disturbedhim more, yet it was the same. At the same time, it was different. But he could not tell why. He liked to have Dade around him, and oneday when the latter went to Lazette on some errand for Betty he feltqueerly depressed and lonesome. That same night when Dade drove intothe ranchhouse yard Calumet had smiled at him, and a little later whenDade had told Betty about it he had added:

"When I seen him grin at me that cordial, I come near fallin' off myhorse. I was that flustered! Why, Betty, he's comin' around! Thedurn cuss likes me!"

"Do you like him?" inquired Betty. 

"Sure. Why, shucks! There ain't nothin' wrong with him exceptin' hisgrouch. When he works that off so's it won't come back any more he'llbe plumb man, an' don't you forget it!"

There was no mistaking Calumet's feeling toward Bob. He pitied theyoungster. He allowed him to ride Blackleg. He braided him ahalf-sized lariat. He carried him long distances on his back andwaited upon him at the table. Bob became his champion; the boyworshiped him. 

Betty was not unaware of all this, and yet she continued to holdherself aloof from Calumet. She did not treat him indifferently, shemerely kept him at a distance. Several times when he spoke to herabout Neal Taggart she left him without answering, and so he knew thatshe resented the implication that he had expressed on the morningfollowing the night on which he had discovered her talking in theoffice. 

It was nearly three weeks after the killing of Denver and hisconfederate that the details of the story reached Betty's ears, andCalumet was as indifferent to her expressions of horror--though it wasa horror not unmixed with a queer note of satisfaction, over which hewondered--as he was to Dade's words of congratulation: "You're surelivin' up to your reputation of bein' a slick man with the six!"

Nor did Calumet inquire who had brought the news. But when one day aroaming puncher brought word from the Arrow that "young Taggart isaround ag'in after monkeyin' with the wrong end of a gun, " he showedinterest. He was anxious to settle the question which had been in hismind since the morning of the shooting. It was this: had Betty meantto hit Taggart when she had shot at him? He thought not; she hadpretended hostility in order to mislead him. But if that had been herplan she had failed to fool him, for he watched unceasingly, and manynights when Betty thought him asleep he was secreted in the wood nearthe ranchhouse. He increased his vigilance after receiving word thatTaggart had not been badly injured. More, he rarely allowed Betty toget out of his sight, for he was determined to defeat the plan to robhim. 

However, the days passed and Taggart did not put in an appearance. Time removes the sting from many hurts and even jealousy's pangs areassuaged by the flight of days. And so after a while Calumet'svigilance relaxed, and he began to think that he had scared Taggartaway. He noted with satisfaction that Betty seemed to treat him lesscoldly, and he felt a pulse of delight over the thought that perhapsshe had repented and had really tried to hit Taggart that morning. 

Once he seized upon this idea he could not dispel it. More, it grew onhim, became a foundation upon which he built a structure of defense forBetty. Taggart had been trying to deceive her. She had discovered hisintentions and had broken with him. Perhaps she had seen the injusticeof her actions. He began to wish he had treated her a little lesscruelly, a little more civilly, began to wish that he had yielded tothose good impulses which he had felt occasionally of late. Hisattitude toward Betty became almost gentle, and there were times whenshe watched him with wondering curiosity, as though not quiteunderstanding the change that had come in him. 

But Dade understood. He had "sized" Calumet "up" in those first daysand his judgment had been unerring, as it was now when Betty asked hisopinion. 

"He's beginnin' to use his brain box, " he told her. "He's been alittle shy an' backward, not knowin' what to expect, an' makin'friend's bein' a little new to him. But he's the goods at bottom, an'he's sighted a goal which he's thinkin' to make one of these days. "

"A goal?" said she, puzzled. 

"Aw, you female critters is deep ones, " grinned Dade, "an' all smearedover with honey an' innocence. You're the goal he's after. An' I'mbettin' he'll get you. "

Her face reddened, and she looked at him plainly indignant. 

"He is a brute, " she said. 

"Most all men is brutes if you scratch them deep enough, " drawled Dade. "The trouble with Calumet is that he's never had a chance to spread onthe soft stuff. He's the plain, unvarnished, dyed-in-the-wool, original man. There's a word fits him, if I could think of it. " Helooked at her inquiringly. 

"Primitive, I think you mean, " she said. 

"That's it--primitive. That's him. He's the rough material; nobody'sever helped him to get into shape. A lot of folks pride themselves onwhat they call culture, forgettin' that it wasn't in them when theycame into the world, that it growed on them after they got here, wasput there by trainin' an' example. Not that I'm ag'in culture; it's amighty fine thing to have hangin' around a man. But if a man ain't gotit an' still measures up to man's size, he's goin' to be a humdingerwhen he gets all the culture that's comin' to him. Mebbe Calumet'llnever get it. But he's losin' his grouch, an' if you--"

"When do you think you will finish repairing the corral?" interruptedBetty. 

Dade grinned. "Tomorrow, I reckon, " he said. 

CHAPTER XVIII

ANOTHER PEACE OFFERING

Dade's prediction that the corral would be completed the next day wasfulfilled. It was a large enclosure, covering several acres, for inthe Lazy Y's prosperous days there had been a great many cattle to carefor, and a roomy corral is a convenience always arranged for by anexperienced cattleman. But it yawned emptily for more than a weekfollowing its completion. 

During that time there had been little to do. Dade and Malcolm hadpassed several days tinkering at the stable and the bunkhouse; Bob, atCalumet's suggestion, was engaged in the humane task of erecting akennel for the new dog--which had grown large and ungainly, thoughstill retaining the admiration of his owner; and Calumet spent much ofhis time roaming around the country on Blackleg. 

"Killin' time, " he told Dade. 

But it was plain to Dade, as it was to Betty, who had spoken but littleto him in a week, that Calumet was filled with speculation andimpatience over the temporary inaction. The work of repairing thebuildings was all done. There was nothing now to do except to awaitthe appearance of some cattle. The repair work had all been done tothat end, and it was inevitable that Betty must be considering somearrangement for the procuring of cattle, but for a week she had saidnothing and Calumet did not question her. 

But on the Monday morning following the period of inaction, Calumetnoted at the breakfast table that Betty seemed unusually eager to havethe meal over. As he was leaving the table she told him she wanted tospeak to him after her housework was done, and he went outside, wherehe lingered, watching Dade and Malcolm and Bob. 

About an hour or so later Betty came out. Calumet was standing at thecorral fence near the stable when she stepped down from the porch, andhe gave a gasp of astonishment and then stood perfectly still, lookingat her. 

For the Betty that he saw was not the Betty he had grown accustomed toseeing. Not once during the time he had been at the Lazy Y had he seenher except in a house dress and her appearance now was in the nature ofa transformation. 

[Illustration: Her appearance now was in the nature of atransformation. ]

She was arrayed in a riding habit of brown corduroy which consisted ofa divided skirt--a "doubled-barreled" one in the sarcastic phraseologyof the male cowpuncher, who affects to despise such an article offeminine apparel--a brown woolen blouse with a low collar, above whichshe had sensibly tied a neckerchief to keep the sun and sand fromblistering her neck; and a black felt hat with a wide brim. On herhands were a pair of silver-spangled leather gauntlets; encasing herfeet were a pair of high-topped, high-heeled riding boots, ornamentedwith a pair of long-roweled Mexican spurs, mounted with silver. Shewas carrying a saddle which was also bedecked and bespangled withsilver. 

Illumination came instantly to Calumet. These things--the saddle, theriding habit, the spurs--were material possessions that connected herwith the past. They were her personal belongings, kept and treasuredfrom the more prosperous days of her earlier life. 

At the first look he had felt a mean impulse to ridicule her because ofthem, but this impulse was succeeded instantly by a queer feeling ofpity for her, and he kept silent. 

But even had he ridiculed her, his ridicule would have been merely amask behind which he could have hidden his surprise and admiration, forthough her riding habit suggested things effete and eastern, which arealways to be condemned on general principles, it certainly did fit herwell, was becoming, neat, and in it she made a figure whose attractionswere not to be denied. 

She knew how to wear her clothes, too, he noted that instantly. Shewas at home in them; she graced them, gave them a subtle hint ofquality that carried far and sank deep. As she came toward him heobserved that her cheeks were a trifle flushed, her eyes a littlebrighter than usual, but for all that she was at ease and natural. 

She stopped in front of him and smiled. 

"Do you mind going over to the Diamond K with me this morning?" sheasked. 

"What for?" he said gruffly, reddening as he thought she might see theadmiration which was slumbering in his eyes. 

"To buy some cattle, " she returned. "Kelton, of the Diamond K, hasn'tbeen fortunate this season. Little Darby has been dry nearly all ofthe time and there has been little good grass on his range. In thefirst place, he had too much stock, even if conditions were right. Ihave heard that Kelton offered to pay the Taggarts for the use of partof their grass, but they have never been friends and the Taggartswanted to charge him an outrageous price for the privilege. Therefore, Kelton is anxious to get rid of some of his stock. We need cattle andwe can get them from him at a reasonable figure. He has some whiteHerefords that I would like to get. "

He cleared his throat and hesitated, frowning. 

"Why don't you take Dade--or Malcolm?" he suggested. 

She looked straight at him. "Don't be priggish, " she said. "Dade andMalcolm have nothing to do with the running of this ranch. I want youto go with me, because I am going to buy some cattle and I want you toconfirm the deal. "

He laughed. "Do you reckon you need to go at all?" he said. "I figureto know cattle some myself, an' I wouldn't let Kelton hornswoggle me. "

She straightened, her chin lifting a little. "Well, " she said slowly, "if that is the way you feel, I presume I shall have to go alone. Ihad thought, though, that the prospective owner of the Lazy Y mighthave enough interest in his property to put aside his likes anddislikes long enough to care for his own interests. Also, " she added, "where I came from, no man would be ungentlemanly enough to refuse toaccompany a lady anywhere she might ask him to go. "

The flush on his face grew. But he refused to become disconcerted. "Ireckon to be as much of a gentleman as any Texas guy, " he said. "But Iexpect, though, " he added; "to prove that to you I'll have to trailalong after you. "

"Of course, " she said, the corners of her mouth dimpling a little. 

He went down to the corral, roped the most gentle and best appearingone of the two horses he had bought in Lazette, caught up his ownhorse, Blackleg, and brought them to the stable, where he saddled andbridled them. Before putting the bridle on her horse, however, hefound an opportunity to work off part of the resentment which hadaccumulated in him over her reference to his conduct. 

After adjusting the saddle, paying particular attention to the cinches, he straightened and looked at her. 

"Do you reckon to have a bridle that belongs to that right prettysaddle an' suit of yourn?" he asked. 

She cast a swift glance about her and blushed. "Oh, " she said; "I haveforgotten it! It is in my room!"

"I reckon I'd get it if I was thinkin' of goin' ridin', " he said. "Some folks seem to think that when you're ridin' a horse a bridle isright handy. "

"Well, " she said, smiling at him as she went out the stable door; "ithas been a long time since I have had these things on, and perhaps Iwas a little nervous. "

At this reference to her past the pulse of pity which he had felt forher before again shot over him. He had seen a quick sadness in hereyes, lurking behind the smile. 

"I reckon you've been stayin' in the house too much, " he said gruffly. 

She hesitated, going out of the door, to look back at him, astonishmentand something more subtle glinting her eyes. He saw it and frowned. 

"It's twelve miles to the Diamond K, " he suggested; "an' twelve back. If you're figgerin' on ridin' that distance an' takin' time between tolook at any cattle mebbe you'd better get a move on. "

She was out of the door before he had ceased speaking and in anincredibly short time was back, a little breathless, her face flushedas though she had been running. 

He put the bridle on her horse, led it out, and condescended to holdthe stirrup for her, a service which she acknowledged with a flashingsmile that brought a reluctant grin to his face. 

Then, swinging into his own saddle, he urged Blackleg after her, forshe had not waited for him, riding down past the ranchhouse and outinto the little stretch of plain that reached to the river. 

They rode steadily, talking little, for Calumet deliberately kept aconsiderable distance between them, thus showing her that thoughcourtesy had forced him to accompany her it could not demand that heshould also become a mark at which she could direct conversation. 

It was noon when they came in sight of the Diamond K ranch buildings. They were on a wide plain near the river and what grass there was wassun-scorched and rustled dryly under the tread of their horses' hoofs. Then Calumet added a word to the few that he had already spoken duringthe ride. 

"I reckon Kelton must have been loco to try to raise cattle in aGod-forsaken hole like this, " he said with a sneer. 

"That he was foolish enough to do so will result to our advantage, " shereplied. 

"Meanin' what?"

"That we will be able to buy what cattle we want more cheaply than wewould were Kelton's range what it should be, " she returned, watchinghis face. 

He looked at her vindictively. "You're one of them kind of humans thatlike to take advantage of a man's misfortune, " he said. 

"That is all in the viewpoint, " she defended. "I didn't bringmisfortune to Kelton. And I consider that in buying his cattle I amdoing him a favor. I am not gloating over the opportunity--it ismerely business. "

"Why didn't you offer Kelton the Lazy Y range?" he said with a twistinggrin. 

She could not keep the triumph out of her voice. "I did, " sheanswered. "He wouldn't take it because he didn't like you--doesn'tlike you. He told me that he knew you when you were a boy and youweren't exactly his style. "

Thus eliminated as a conversationalist, and defeated in his effort tocast discredit upon her, Calumet maintained a sneering silence. 

But when they rode up to the Diamond K ranchhouse, he flung a partingword at her. 

"I reckon you can go an' talk cattle to your man, Kelton, " he said. "I'm afraid that if he goes gassin' to me I'll smash his face in. "

He rode back to the horse corral, which they had passed, to look againat a horse inside which had attracted his attention. 

The animal was glossy black except for a little patch of white abovethe right fore-fetlock; he was tall, rangy, clean-limbed, high-spirited, and as Calumet sat in the saddle near the corral gatewatching him he trotted impudently up to the bars and looked him over. Then, after a moment, satisfying his curiosity, he wheeled, slashed atthe gate with both hoofs, and with a snort, that in the horse languagemight have meant contempt or derision, cavorted away. 

Calumet's admiring glance followed him. He sat in the saddle for halfan hour, eyeing the horse critically, and at the end of that time, noting that Betty had returned to the ranchhouse with Kelton, probablyhaving looked at some of the stock she had come to see--Calumet hadobserved on his approach that the cattle corral was well filled withwhite Herefords--he wheeled Blackleg and rode over to them. 

"Mr. Kelton has offered me four hundred head of cattle at a reasonablefigure, " Betty told him on his approach. "All that remains is for youto confirm it. "

"I reckon you're the boss, " said Calumet. He looked at Kelton, andevidently his fear that he would "smash" the tatter's face hadvanished--perhaps in a desire to possess the black horse, which hadseized him. 

"I reckon you ain't sellin' that black horse?" he said. 

"Cheap, " said Kelton quickly. 

"How cheap?"

"Fifty dollars. "

"I reckon he's my horse, " said Calumet. "The boss of the Lazy Y willpay for him when she hands you the coin for your cattle. " Hescrutinized Kelton's face closely, having caught a note in his voicewhich had interested him. "Why you wantin' to get rid of the black?"he questioned. 

"He ain't been rode, " said Kelton; "he won't be rode. You can back outof that sale now, if you like. But I'm tellin' you the gospel truth. There ain't no man in the Territory can ride him. Miskell, my regularbronc-buster, is the slickest man that ever forked a horse, an' he'slayin' down in the bunkhouse right now, nursin' a leg which that blackdevil busted last week. An' men is worth more to me than horses rightnow. I reckon, " he finished, eyeing Calumet with a certainvindictiveness, which had undoubtedly lasted over from his acquaintancewith the latter in the old days; "that you ain't a heap smart atbreakin' broncs, an' you won't want the black now. "

"I'm reckonin' on ridin' him back to the Lazy Y, " said Calumet. 

Kelton grinned incredulously, and Betty looked swiftly at Calumet. Foran instant she had half feared that this declaration had been made in aspirit of bravado, and she was prepared to be disagreeably disappointedin Calumet. She told herself when she saw his face, however, that sheought to have known better, for whatever his other shortcomings she hadnever heard him boast. 

And that he was not boasting now was plainly evident, both to her andKelton. His declaration had been merely a calm announcement of adeliberate purpose. He was as natural now as he had been all along. She saw Kelton's expression change--saw the incredulity go out of it, observed his face whiten a little. 

But his former vindictiveness remained. "I reckon if you want to be adamn fool I ain't interferin'. But I've warned you, an' it's yourfuneral. "

Calumet did not reply, contenting himself with grinning. He swung downfrom Blackleg, removed the saddle and bridle from the animal, andholding the latter by the forelock turned to Betty. 

"I'd like you to ride Blackleg home. He's your horse now. Kelton willlend you a halter to lead that skate you're on. While he's gettin' thehalter I'll put your saddle on Blackleg--if you'll get off. "

Betty dismounted and the change was made. She had admiredBlackleg--she was in love with him now that he belonged to her, but shewas afflicted with a sudden speechlessness over the abruptness withwhich he had made the gift. She wanted to thank him, but she felt itwas not time. Besides, he had not waited for her thanks. He hadplaced the halter on the horse she had ridden to the Diamond K, hadlooked on saturninely while Kelton had helped her into the saddle, andhad then carried his own saddle to a point near the outside of thecorral fence, laying the bridle beside it. Then he uncoiled thebraided hair lariat that hung at the pommel of the saddle and walked tothe corral gate. 

With a little pulse of joy over her possession of the splendid animalunder her, and an impulse of curiosity, she urged him to the corralfence and sat in the saddle, a little white of face, watching Calumet. 

The black horse was alone in the corral and as Calumet entered andclosed the gate behind him, not fastening it, the black came toward himwith mincing steps, its ears laid back. 

Calumet continued to approach him. The black backed away slowly untilCalumet was within fifty feet of him--it seemed to Betty that the horseknew from previous experience the length of a rope--and then with asnort of defiance it wheeled and raced to the opposite end of thecorral. 

"Watch the gate!" called Calumet to Kelton. 

He continued to approach the black. The beast retreated along thefence, stepping high, watching Calumet over its shoulder. Plainly, itdivined Calumet's intention--which was to crowd it into a corner--andwhen almost there it halted suddenly, made a feint to pass to Calumet'sleft, wheeled just as suddenly and plunged back to his right. 

The ruse did not work. Calumet had been holding his rope low, withseeming carelessness, but as the black whipped past he gave the rope aquick flirt. Like a sudden snake it darted sinuously out, the loopopened, rose, settled around the black's neck, tightened; the end inCalumet's hand was flipped in a half hitch around a snubbing postnearby, and the black tumbled headlong into the dust of the corral, striking with a force that brought a grunt from him. 

For an instant he lay still. And in that instant Calumet was at hisside. While advancing toward the black, he had taken off hisneckerchief, and now he deftly knotted it around the black's head, covering its eyes. A moment later he was leading it, unprotesting, outof the corral gate. 

He halted near the fence and looked at Betty, who was watchingcritically, though with a tenseness in her attitude that brought afugitive smile to Calumet's lips. 

"I reckon you'd better move a way an' give this here animal plenty ofroom, " he said. "If he's as much horse as Kelton says he is he'll wanta heap of it. "

He waited until in obedience to his suggestion Betty had withdrawn to asafe distance toward the ranchhouse. Then with Kelton holding theblack's head he placed the saddle on, then the bridle, working with asure swiftness that brought an admiring glint into Betty's eyes. Thenhe deliberately coiled his rope and fastened it to the pommel of thesaddle, taking extra care with it. This done he turned with a coldgrin to Kelton, nodding his head shortly. 

Kelton pulled the neckerchief from the black's eyes, let go of itshead, and scurried to the top of the corral fence. Before he couldreach it Calumet had vaulted into the saddle, and before the blackcould realize what had happened, his feet were in the stirrups. 

For an instant the Black stood, its legs trembling, the muscles underits glossy coat quivering, its ears laid flat, its nostrils distended, its mouth open, its eyes wild and bloodshot. Then, tensed formovement, but uncertain, waiting a brief instant before yielding to thethousand impulses that flashed over him, he felt the rowels ofCalumet's spurs as they were driven viciously into his sides. 

He sprang wildly upward, screaming with the sudden pain, and came down, his legs asprawl, surprised, enraged, outraged. Alighting, heinstantly lunged--forward, sideways, with an eccentric movement whichhe felt must dislodge the tormentor on his back. It was futile, attended with punishment, for again the sharp spurs sank in, werejammed into his sides, held there--rolling, biting points of steel thathurt him terribly. 

He halted for a moment, to gather his wits and his strength, for hisformer experiences with this strange type of creature who clung sotenaciously to his back had taught him that he must use all his craft, all his strength, to dislodge him. To his relief, the spurs ceased tobite. But he was not misled. There was that moment near the corralfence when he had not moved, but still the spurs had sunk in anyway. He would make certain this time that the creature with the spurs wouldnot have another opportunity to use them. And, gathering himself for asupreme effort, he lunged again, shunting himself off toward a stretchof plain back of the ranchhouse, bounding like a ball, his back arched, his head between his forelegs, coming down from each rise with hishoofs bunched so that they might have all landed in a dinner plate. 

It was fruitless. Calumet remained unshaken, tenacious as ever. Theblack caught his breath again, and for the next five minutes practicedhis whole category of tricks, and in addition some that he invented inthe stress of the time. 

To Betty, watching from her distance, it seemed that he must certainlyunseat Calumet. She had watched bucking horses before, but never hadher interest in the antics of one been so intense; never had she beenso desperately eager for a rider's victory; never had she felt sobreathlessly fearful of one's defeat. For, glancing from the cornersof her eyes at Kelton, she saw a scornful, mocking smile on his face. He was wishing, hoping, that the black would throw Calumet. 

At the risk of danger from the black's hoofs she urged Blackleg forwardto a more advantageous position. As she brought him to a halt, sheheard Kelton beside her. 

"Some sunfisher, that black, " he remarked. 

She turned on him fiercely. "Keep still, can't you!" she said. 

Kelton reddened; she did not see his face though, for she was watchingCalumet and the black. 

The outlaw had not ceased his efforts. On the contrary, it appearedthat he was just beginning to warm to his work. Screaming with rageand hate he sprang forward at a dead run, propelling himself with thespeed of a bullet for a hundred yards, only to come to a dizzying, terrifying stop; standing on his hind legs; pawing furiously at the airwith his forehoofs; tearing impotently at the bit with his teeth, slashing with terrific force in the fury of his endeavor. 

Calumet's hat had come off during the first series of bucks. The grinthat had been on his face when he had got into the saddle back near thecorral fence was gone, had been superseded by a grimness that Bettycould see even from the distance from which she watched. He was arider though, she saw that--had seen it from the first. She had seenmany cowboy breakers of wild horses; she knew the confident bearing ofthem; the quickness with which they adjusted their muscles to theeccentric movements of the horse under them, anticipating their everyaction, so far as anyone was able to anticipate the actions of arage-maddened demon who has only one desire, to kill or maim its rider, and she knew that Calumet was an expert. He was cool, first of all, inspite of his grimness; he kept his temper, he was absolutely withoutfear; he was implacable, inexorable in his determination to conquer. Somehow the battle between horse and man, as it raged up and downbefore her, sometimes shifting to the far end of the level, sometimescoming so near that she could see the expression of Calumet's faceplainly, seemed to be a contest between kindred spirits. The analogy, perhaps, might not have been perceived by anyone less intimatelyacquainted with Calumet, or by anyone who understood a horse less, butshe saw it, and knowing Calumet's innate savagery, his primalstubbornness, his passions, the naked soul of the man, she began tofeel that the black was waging a hopeless struggle. He could never winunless some accident happened. 

And they were very near her when it seemed that an accident did happen. 

The black, his tongue now hanging out, the foam that issued from hismouth flecked with blood; his sides in a lather; his flanks moist andtorn from the cruel spur-points: seemed to be losing his cunning and tobe trusting entirely to his strength and yielding to his rage. Shecould hear his breath coming shrilly as he tore past her; the whites ofhis eyes white no longer, but red with the murder lust. It seemed toher that he must divine that defeat was imminent, and in a transport ofdespair he was determined to stake all on a last reckless move. 

As he flashed past her she looked at Calumet also. His face was pale;there was a splotch of blood on his lips which told of an internalhemorrhage brought on by the terrific jarring that he had received, butin his eyes was an expression of unalterable resolve; the grim, cold, immutable calm of purpose. Oh, he would win, she knew. Nothing butdeath could defeat him. That was his nature--his character. There wasno alternative. He saw none, would admit none. He found time, as hewent past her, to grin at her, and the grin, though a trifle wan, contained much of its old mockery and contempt of her judgment of him. 

The black raced on for a hundred yards, and what ensued might have beenan accident, or it might have been the deliberate result of the black'slatest trick. He came to a sudden stop, rose on his hind legs andthrew himself backward, toppling, rigid, upon his back to the ground. 

As he rose for the fall Calumet slipped out of the saddle and leapedsideways to escape being crushed. He succeeded in this effort, but ashe leaped the spur on his right heel caught in the hollow of theblack's hip near the flank, the foot refused to come free, it caught, jammed, and Calumet fell heavily beside the horse, luckily a little toone side, so that the black lay prone beside him. 

Betty's scream was sharp and shrill. But no one heard it--at leastKelton seemed not to hear, for he was watching Calumet, his eyes wide, his face white; nor did Calumet seem to hear, for he was sitting on theground, trying to work his foot out of the stirrup. Twice, as heworked with the foot, Betty saw the black strike at him with its hoofs, and once a hoof missed his head by the narrowest of margins. 

But the foot was free at last, and Calumet rose. He still held thereins in his hands, and now, as he got to his feet, he jerked out thequirt that he wore at his waist and lashed the black, vigorously, savagely. 

The beast rose, snorting with rage and pain, still unsubdued. His hindlegs had not yet straightened when Calumet was again in the saddle. The black screamed, with a voice almost human in its shrillness, andleaped despairingly forward, shaking its head from side to side asCalumet drove the spurs deep into its sides. It ran another hundredyards, half-heartedly, the spring gone out of its stride; then wheeledand came back, bucking doggedly, clumsily, to a point within fifty feetof where Betty sat on Blackleg. Then, as it bucked again, it came downwith its forelegs unjointed, and rolled over on its side, withCalumet's right leg beneath it. 

The black was tired and lay with its neck outstretched on the ground, breathing heavily, its sides heaving. Calumet also, was not averse toa rest and had straightened and lay, an arm under his head, waiting. 

Betty smiled, for though he appeared to be in a position which mightresult in a crushed leg or foot, she knew that he was in no danger, because the heavy ox-bow stirrup afforded protection for his foot, while the wide seat of the saddle kept the upper part of his leg frominjury. She had seen the cowboys roll under their horses in thismanner many times, deliberately--it saved them the strenuous work ofalighting and remounting. They had done it, too, for the opportunityit afforded them to rest and to hurl impolite verbiage at their horses. 

But Calumet was silent. She rode a little closer to him, to look athim, and when his eyes met hers; she saw that his spirit was in no waytouched; that his job of subduing the black was not yet finished andthat he purposed to finish it. 

"We're goin' in a minute, " he said to her, his voice a little husky. "I'd thank you to bring my hat. I don't reckon you'll be able to keepup with us, but I reckon you'll excuse me for runnin' away from you. "

He had scarcely finished speaking before the black struggled to rise. Calumet helped him by keeping a loose rein and lifting his own body. And when the black swung over and got to its feet, Calumet settledfirmly into the saddle and instantly jammed his spurs home into itsflanks. The black reared, snorted, came down and began to rundesperately across the level, desiring nothing so much now as to do thebidding of the will which he had discovered to be superior to his own. 

Betty watched in silence as horse and rider went over the level, traveling in a dust cloud, and when they began to fade she turned toKelton. The latter was crestfallen, glum. 

"Shucks, " he said; "if I'd have thought he'd break the black devil hewouldn't have got him for twice fifty dollars. He's sure a slick, don't-give-a-damn buster. "

Betty smiled mysteriously and went to look for Calumet's hat. Then, riding Blackleg and leading the other horse, she went toward the Lazy Y. 

It was dusk when she arrived, to be greeted by Dade and Bob. She sawthe black horse in the corral and she knew that Calumet had won thevictory, for the black's head dropped dejectedly and she had never seenan animal that seemed less spirited. It did not surprise her to findthat Calumet looked tired, and when she came down stairs from changingher dress and got supper for them all, she did not mention the incidentof the breaking of the black. Nor would he talk, though she wasintensely curious as to the motive which had prompted him to make her apresent of Blackleg. Was it an indication that he was feeling morefriendly to her, or had he merely grown tired of Blackleg?

The answer came to her late that night, after Calumet had retired. Betty and Dade were in the kitchen; Malcolm and Bob were in thesitting-room. Betty had taken Dade into her confidence and had relatedto him the happenings of the day--so far as she could withoutacquainting him with the state of her feelings toward Calumet. 

"So he can ride some?" commented Dade, after she had told him about theblack. "I reckon he'd bust that horse or break his neck. But he wasin bad shape when he rode in--almost fell out of the saddle, an'staggered scandalous when he walked. All in. Didn't make a whimper, though. Clear grit. He grinned at me when he turned the black intothe corral. 

"'Does that cayuse look busted?' he said. 

"I allowed he had that appearance, an' he laughed. 

"'I've give Betty Blackleg, ' he said. 'I've got tired of him. '"

Betty's disappointment showed in her eyes; she had suspected thatCalumet had had another reason. She had hoped--

"I reckon, though, that that wasn't his real reason, " continued Dade;"he wasn't showin' all of his hand there. "

"What makes you think that?" asked Betty, trying not to blush. 

"Well, " said Dade, "I was walkin' round the stable a while ago, justnosin' around without any purpose, an' walkin' slow. When I got to thecorner, not makin' any noise, I saw Calumet standin' in front of thestable door, talkin'. There was nobody around him--nothin' butBlackleg, an' so I reckon he was talkin' to Blackleg. Sure enough hewas. He puts his head up against Blackleg's head, an' he said, softan' low, kinda:

"'Blackleg, ' he said; 'I've give you away. I hated like poison to doit, but I reckon Betty'll look a heap better on you than she does onthat skate she rode today. Damn that black devil!' he said, 'Iwouldn't have took the job of breakin' him for any other woman in theworld. '

"I come away then, " concluded Dade; "for somehow I didn't want him toknow there was anybody around to hear him. "

Betty got up quickly and went out on the porch. She stood there, looking out into the darkness for a long, long time, and presently Dadegrew tired of waiting for her and went to his room. 

CHAPTER XIX

A TRAGEDY IN THE TIMBER GROVE

The black was undoubtedly broken. His subsequent actions proved that. He did not become docile by any means, but he was tractable, which isto say that he did as he was bidden with a minimum of urging; he wasintelligent, divining, and learned quickly. Also, he respected hisconqueror. If Dade or Malcolm came near him he gave unmistakableevidence of hostility; he even shied at sight of Betty, who was hismost sincere admirer, for had not his coming to the Lazy Y beenattended with a sentiment not the less satisfying because concealed?

But the black suffered Calumet's advances, his authority, hisautocratic commands, with a patience that indicated that hissubjugation was to be complete and lasting. 

When, toward the middle of the week, Kelton's men--two bepistoled, capable punchers--drove the cattle comprising the Lazy Y purchase intothe valley, Calumet immediately set to work to train the black toobserve the various niceties of the etiquette of cow-punching. He soonlearned, that when the rope whistled past his ears he was to watch itsprogress, and if its loop encircled a neck or a leg he was to bracehimself for the inevitable shock. If the loop failed--which it rarelydid--he discovered that he was to note at which particular steer it hadbeen hurled, and was to follow that steer's progress, no matter whereit went, until the rope went true. He discovered that it wasimperative for him to stand without moving when his master trailed thereins over his head; he early learned that the bit was a terribleinstrument of torture, and that it were better to answer to thepressure of Calumet's knee than to be subjected to the pain it causedhim. 

He was taught these things, and many more, while the work of rebrandingthe Diamond K cattle went forward. 

This work was no sinecure. Dade and Malcolm, and even Bob, assisted init--Malcolm and Bob attending to the heating of the branding ironswhile Calumet roped the steers and dragged them to the fire where Dadepressed the white-hot irons to their hips. But the work was donefinally, and the cattle turned out into the valley. 

On the night that saw the finish of the branding, Calumet, Dade, andMalcolm retired early. Betty and Bob remained in the kitchen for sometime, but finally they, too, went to bed. 

At one second before midnight Calumet was sleeping soundly--as soundlyas it is possible for a man to sleep who has been working out of doorsand is physically tired. At exactly midnight he was wide awake, lyingon his back, looking with unblinking eyes at the ceiling, all hissenses aroused and alert, his nerves and muscles at a tension. 

He did not know what had awakened him, though he was convinced that ithad been something strange and unusual. It had happened to him before;several times when cattle had stampeded; once when a Mexican freighterat a cow camp had rose in the night to slip his knife into a puncherwith whom he had had trouble during the day. Incidentally, except forCalumet, the Mexican would have made his escape. It had happened tohim again when a band of horse thieves had attempted to run off somestock; it had never happened unless something unusual was going on. And so he was certain that something unusual was going on now, and helay still, looking around him, to make sure that what was happening wasnot happening in his room. He turned his head and looked at Dade. That young man was breathing heavily and regularly. He turned towardthe door of the room. The door was closed. A flood of moonlightentered the window; objects in the room were clearly distinguishable, and nothing seemed wrong here. But something was wrong--he was certainof that. And so he got carefully out of bed and looked out of thewindow, listening, peering intently in all directions within the limitsof his vision. No sound greeted his ears, no moving object caught hisgaze. But he was not satisfied. 

He put on his clothes, buckled his cartridge belt around his waist, took his six-shooter from beneath his pillow, and stuck it into theholster, and in his stockinged feet opened the door of the room andstepped out into the hall. He was of the opinion that something hadgone wrong with the horses, and he intended to make the rounds of thestable and corrals to satisfy his curiosity. Strangely, he did notthink of the possibility of Betty meeting Taggart again, until he hadreached the bottom of the stairs. Even then he was half-way across thedining-room, stepping carefully and noiselessly for fear he mightawaken someone, when he glanced back with a sudden suspicion, towardthe door of the office. As in that other time there shone a streak oflight through the crevice between the bottom of the door and thethreshold. 

He stood still, his muscles contracting, his lips curling, a black, jealous anger in his heart. Taggart was there again. 

But he would not escape this time. He would take care to make no noisewhich would scare him away. He listened at the door, but he heard novoices. They were in there, though, he could distinguish slightmovements. He left the door and stole softly up the stairs to hisroom, getting his boots and carrying them in his hand. As before, heintended putting them on at the kitchen door. But Bob's dog would notbetray him this time, for since the other accident he had contrived topersuade Bob to keep the dog outside at night. Nor would there occurany other accident--he would take care of that. And so it took him along time to descend the stairs and make his way to the kitchen door. Once outside, he drew on his boots and stole silently and swiftly tothe front door of the house. 

To his astonishment, when he arrived at the door, there was no light, no sound to indicate that anybody was in the room. He tried thedoor--it was barred. He stepped to the window. If there was a lightwithin it would show through the cracks and holes in the shade, for thelatter was old and well worn. 

But no light appeared. If there was anyone inside they must have heardhim in spite of his carefulness, and had put out the light. He cursed. He could not watch both the back and the front door, but he could watchthe outside of the house, could go a little distance away from it andthus see anybody who would leave it. 

He walked away toward the timber clump, looking around him. As hisgaze swept the wood near the river he caught a glimpse of a horse andrider as they passed through a clearing and went slowly away from him. 

They had tricked him again! Probably by this time Betty was in herroom, laughing at him. Taggart was laughing, too, no doubt. Thethought maddened him. He cursed bitterly as he ran to the stable. Hewas inside in a flash, saddling Blackleg, jamming a bit into his mouth. He would follow Taggart to the Arrow, to hell--anywhere, but he wouldcatch him. Blackleg could do it; he would make him do it, if he killedhim in the end. 

In three minutes Blackleg shot out of the stable door--a flash in thenight. The swift turn that was required of him he made on his hindlegs, and then, with a plunge and a snort of delight, he was away overthe level toward the wood. 

Calumet guided Blackleg toward the spot where he had seen the rider, certain that he could not have gone far during the interval that hadelapsed, but when he reached the spot there was no sign of a horse andrider in any direction. 

For an instant only Calumet halted Blackleg, and then he spurred himdown the river trail. One mile, two, three, he rode at a breakneckpace, and then suddenly he was out of the timber and facing a plainthat stretched into an interminable distance. The trail lay straightand clear; there was no sign of a horse and rider on it. Taggart hadnot come in this direction, though in this direction lay the Arrow. 

He wheeled Blackleg and, with glowering eyes and straightened lips, rode him back the way he had come, halting often and peering intoshadows. By the time he arrived at the spot where he had first seenthe horse and rider he had become convinced that Taggart had secretedhimself until he had passed him and had then ridden over the backtrail, later to return to the Arrow by a circuitous route. 

Calumet determined to cut across the country and intercept him, and hedrove the spurs into Blackleg and raced him through the wood. Histrail took him into a section which led to the slope which the horsesdrawing the wagon had taken on the night of the ambush. He was tearingthrough this when he broke through the edge of a clearing about aquarter of a mile from the ranchhouse. At about the center of theclearing Blackleg came to a jarring, dizzying stop, rearing high on hishind legs. When he came down he whinnied and backed, and, peering overhis shoulder to see what had frightened him, Calumet saw the body of aman lying at the edge of a mesquite clump. 

With his six-shooter in hand, Calumet dismounted and walked to the man. The latter was prone in the dust, on his face, and as Calumet leanedover him the better to peer into his face--for he thought the man mightbe Taggart--he heard a groan escape his lips. Sheathing his weapon, Calumet turned the man over on his back. Another groan escaped him;his eyes opened, though they closed again immediately. It was notTaggart. 

"Got me, " he said. He groaned again. 

"Who got you?" Calumet bent over to catch the reply. None came; theman had lost consciousness. 

Calumet stood up and looked around. He could see nothing of the riderfor whom he was searching. He could not leave this wounded man topursue his search for Taggart; there might be something he could do forthe man. 

But he left the man's side for an instant while he looked around him. Some dense undergrowth rose on his right, black shadows surrounding it, and he walked along its edge, his forty-five in hand, trying to peerinto it. He saw nothing, heard nothing. Then, catching another groanfrom the man, he returned to him. The man's eyes were open; theygleamed brightly and wildly. 

"Got me, " he said as he saw Calumet. 

"Who got you?" repeated Calumet. 

"Telza. "

"Telza?" Calumet bent over him again; the name sounded foreign. "Talksense, " he said shortly; "who's Telza?"

"A Toltec Indian, " said the man. "He's been hangin' around here--for amonth. Around the Arrow, too. Mebbe two months. Nobody knows. He'slike a shadow. Now you see him an' now you don't, " he added with agrim attempt at a joke. "Taggart's had me trailin' him, lookin' for adiagram he's got. "

"Diagram of what?" demanded Calumet. His interest was intense. AToltec! Telza was of the race from whom his father and Taggart hadstolen the idol. He leaned closer to the man. 

"Are Telza an' Taggart friends?" he asked. 

"Friends!" The man's weak laugh was full of scorn. "Taggart'sstringin' him. Telza's lookin' for an idol--all gold an' diamonds, an'such. Worth thousands. Taggart set Telza on Betty Clayton. " The manchoked; his breath came thickly; red stained his lips. "Hell!" hesaid, "what you chinnin' me for? Get that damned toad-sticker out ofme, can't you. It's in my side, near the back--I can't reach it. "

Calumet felt where the man indicated, and his hand struck the handle ofa knife. It had a large, queerly-shaped handle and a long, thin bladelike a stiletto. It had been driven into the man's left side justunder the fleshy part of the shoulder, and it was plain that its pointhad found a vital spot--probably through the lung and near the heart, for the man was limp and helpless, his breath coughed in his throat, and it was certain that he had not many minutes to live. Calumetcarefully withdrew the weapon, and the man settled back with a sigh ofrelief. 

"You're Marston, ain't you?" he said, slowly and painfully, gaspingwith every breath. "I've heard the Taggart's talk about you. OldTom's developed a yellow streak in his old age an' he's leavin' all hisdirty work to Neal. Neal's got a yellow streak, too, for that matter, but he's young an' ain't got no sense. I reckon I'm goin' somewherenow, an' so I can say what I like. Taggart ain't no friend ofmine--neither of them. They've played me dirt--more than once. Myname's Al Sharp. You know that Tom Taggart was as deep in that idolbusiness as your dad was. He told me. But he's got Telza soft-soapedinto thinkin' that Betty Clayton's folks snaked it from Telza's people. Taggart's got evidence that your dad planted the idol around heresomewheres--seems to know that your dad drawed a diagram of the placean' left it with Betty. He set Telza to huntin' for it. Telza got ittonight--it was hid somewhere. I was with him--waitin' for him. If hegot the diagram I was to knife him and take it away from him. Taggartan' his dad is somewhere around here--I was to meet them down the rivera piece. Telza double-crossed me; tried to sneak over here an' huntthe idol himself. I found him--he had the diagram. I tried to get itfrom him--he stuck his toad-sticker in me, . . . The littlecopper-skinned devil. He--" He hesitated and choked, raising himselfas though to get a long breath. But a dark flood again stained hislips, he strangled and stretched out limply. 

Calumet turned him over on his back and covered his face with ahandkerchief. Then he stood up, looking around at the edge of theclearing. Ten feet in front of him, curled around the edge of a bit ofsagebrush, was a dirty white object. He walked over, kicked thesagebrush violently, that a concealed rattler might not spring on him, and took up the object. It was a piece of paper about six inchessquare, and in the dim moonlight Calumet could see that it containedwriting of some sort and a crude sketch. He looked closer at it, saw aspot marked "Idol is here, " and then folded it quickly and placed it, crumpled into a ball, into a pocket of his trousers. 

He was now certain that Taggart had been merely deceiving Betty; therehad been no other significance to his visits. The visits were merelypart of a plan to get possession of the idol. While he had beentalking to Betty in the office tonight Telza had stolen the diagram. 

There was more than triumph in Calumet's eyes as he turned hispony--there was joy and savage exultation. The idol was his; he wouldget the money, too. After that he would drive Betty and all of them--

But would he? A curious indecision mingled with his other emotions atthis thought. His face grew serious. Lately he was developing avacillating will; whenever he meditated any action with regard to Bettyhe had an inclination to defer it. He postponed a decision now; hewould think it over again. Before he made up his mind on that questionhe wanted to enjoy her discomfiture and confusion over the loss of thediagram. 

He had lost all thought of pursuing Taggart. Sharp had said thatTaggart was somewhere in the vicinity, but it was just possible thatSharp had been so deeply engaged with Telza about the time Taggart hadmade his escape that he had not seen him. There was time for him tosettle with Taggart. 

He took up the bridle rein, wheeled, placed one foot into the stirrup, intending to mount, when he became aware of a shadow looming near him. He pulled the foot out of the stirrup, dropped the reins with the samemovement, and turned in a flash. 

Neal Taggart, sitting on a horse at the edge of the clearing, not overtwenty feet from him, was looking at him from behind the muzzle of asix-shooter. At a trifling distance from Taggart was another man, alsobestride a horse. A rifle was at this man's shoulder; his cheek wasnuzzling its stock, and Calumet saw that the weapon was aimed at hischest. 

He rapidly noted the positions of the two, estimated the distance, decided that the risk of resistance was too great, and slowly raisedhis hands above his head. 

"Surprise party, eh?" he said. "Well, " he added in a self-accusingvoice, "I reckon I was dreamin' some. "

Neal Taggart dismounted, moving quickly aside so that the man with therifle had an unobstructed view of Calumet. He went close to the latter. 

"So it's you, eh?" he said. "We saw you tearin' up an' down the rivertrail, when we was back in the timber a piece. Racin' your fool headoff. Nothin' in sight. Saw you come in here ten minutes ago. Whatyou doin' here?"

"Exercisin', " said Calumet; "takin' my midnight constitutional. " Helooked at the man with the rifle. 

The latter was hatless. Long gray hair, unkempt, touched hisshoulders; a white beard, scraggly, dirty, hid all of his face exceptthe beak-like, awry nose. Beady, viciously glowing eyes gleamed out ofthe grotesque mask. 

"Who's your friend?" questioned Calumet, with a derisive grin. "If Iwas a sheep-man now, I'd try an' find time, next shearin'--"

"My father, " growled Neal. 

"Excuse me, " said Calumet with a short laugh, though his eyes shonewith a sudden hardness; "I thought it was a--"

"You're Calumet Marston, I reckon, " interrupted the bearded man. "You're an impertinent pup, like your father was. Get his guns!" hecommanded gruffly. 

Neal hesitated and then took a step toward Calumet. The lattercrouched, his eyes narrowing to glittering pin points. In his attitudewas a threat, a menace, of volcanic, destroying action. Neal stopped astep off, uncertain. 

Calumet's lips sneered. "Take my guns, eh?" he said. "Reach out an'grab them. But say your prayers before you do--you an' that sufferin'monolith with the underbrush scattered all over his mug. Come an' takethem!" He jeered as he saw Neal Taggart's face whiten. "Hell!" headded as he saw the elder Taggart make a negative motion toward hisson, "you ain't got no clear thoughts just at this minute, eh?"

"We ain't aimin' to force trouble, " growled the older man. "We're justcurious, that's what. Also, there's a chance that we can settle thisthing peaceable. We want to palaver. If you'll give your word thatthere won't be no gun-play until after the peace meetin' is over, youcan take your hands down. "

"No shootin' goes right now, " agreed Calumet. "But after this peacemeetin'--"

"We ought to come to terms, " said Taggart, placing his rifle in thesaddle holster as Calumet's hands came down. "There hadn't ought to beany bad blood between us. Me an' your dad was a heap friendly until wehad a fallin' out over that she-devil which he lived with--Ezela. "There was an insincere grin on his face. 

It was plain to Calumet that the elder Taggart had some ulterior motivein suggesting a peace conference. He noted that while Taggart talkedhis eyes kept roving around the clearing as though in search ofsomething. That something, Calumet divined, was Sharp and Telza. Hesuspected that Calumet had seen Telza and Sharp, or one of them, enterthe clearing, and had followed them. Neal had said that they had seenCalumet when he had been racing up and down the river trail; they hadsuspected he had been after Sharp or Telza, and had followed him. Nodoubt they were afflicted with a great curiosity. They were playingfor time in order to discover his errand. 

"I reckon we'll get along without mushin', " suggested Calumet. "Whatterms are you talkin' about?"

Taggart climbed down from his pony and stood beside it. 

"Half-an'-half on the idol, " he said. "That's square, ain't it?" Helooked at Calumet with the beginning of a bland smile, which instantlyfaded and turned into a grimace of fear as he found himself lookinginto the gaping muzzles of Calumet's pistols, which had appeared withmagic ease and quickness. 

"I'm runnin' a little surprise party of my own, " declared Calumet. "Was you thinkin' I was fool enough to go to gassin' with you, trustin'that you wouldn't take your chance to perforate me? You've got anotherguess comin'. "

The disappointed gleam in Taggart's eyes showed that such had been hisintention. "There wasn't to be no shootin' until after we'd held ourpeace meetin', " he complained. 

"Correct, " said Calumet. "But the peace meetin' is now over. Get yoursky-hooks clawin' at the clouds!" he warned coldly as Neal hesitated. When both had raised their hands above their heads he deftly pluckedtheir weapons from their holsters. Then, alert and watchful, he drewthe elder Taggart's rifle from its sling on the saddle and threw it adozen feet away. 

"Now just step over to that bunch of mesquite, " he ordered; "there'ssomethin' there that I want to show you. "

In obedience to his command they went forward. Both came to a haltwhen around the edge of the mesquite clump they saw the dead body ofSharp, with the handkerchief over his face. Neither recognized the manuntil Calumet drew the handkerchief away, and then both started back. 

"Know him, eh?" said Calumet, watching them narrowly. "Well, he donehis duty--done what you wanted him to do. But your man, Telza, double-crossed him--knifed him. " He took up the rapier-like blade thathe had drawn from Sharp's side and held it before their eyes. Againthey started, and Calumet laughed. 

"Know the knife, too!" he jeered. "An' after what you've done you'vegot the nerve to ask me to divvy with you. "

The elder Taggart was the first to recover his composure. 

"Telza?" he said. "Why, I reckon you've got me; there ain't no one ofthat name--"

But Calumet was close to him, his eyes blazing. "Shut your dirtymouth, or I'll tear you apart!" he threatened. "You're a liar, an' youknow it. Sharp told me about you settin' the Toltec on Betty. I knowthe rest. I know you tried to make a monkey out of my dad, you damnedold ossified scarecrow! If you open your trap again, I'll justnaturally pulverize you! I reckon that's all I've got to say to you. "

He walked over to Neal, and the latter shrank from the bittermalignance of his gaze. 

"Can you tell me why I ain't lettin' daylight through you?" he said ashe shoved the muzzle of his six-shooter deep into Neal's stomach, holding it there with savage steadiness as he leaned forward and lookedinto the other's eyes. "It's because I ain't a sneak an' a murderer. I ain't ambushin' nobody. I've done some killin' in my time, but Iain't never plugged no man who didn't have the same chance I had. I'mgivin' you a chance. "

He drew out one of the weapons he had taken from the two men, holdingit by the muzzle and thrusting it under Neal's nose. The terrible, suppressed rage in his eyes caused a shiver to run over Neal, his faceturned a dull white, his eyes stared fearfully. He made no move tograsp the weapon. 

"I ain't fightin', " he said with trembling lips. 

Calumet reversed the gun and stepped back, laughing harshly, withoutmirth. 

"Of course you ain't fightin', " he said. "That's the reason it's goin'to be hard for me to kill you. I'd feel like a cur if I was toperforate you now--you or your scarecrow dad. But I'm tellin' youthis: You've sneaked around the Lazy Y for the last time. I'm layin'for you after this, an' if I ketch you maverickin' around here againI'll perforate you so plenty that it'll make you dizzy. That's all. Get out of here before I change my mind!"

Shrinking from his awe-inspiring wrath, they retreated from him, watching him fearfully as they backed toward their horses. They hadalmost reached them when Calumet's voice brought them to a halt. 

His lips were wreathed in a cold grin, his eyes alight with a satanichumor. But the rage had gone from his voice; it was mocking, derisive. 

"Goin' to ride?" he said. "Oh, don't! Them horses look dead tired. Leave them here; they need a rest. Besides, a man can't do anythinkin' to amount to anything when he's forkin' a horse, an' I reckonyou two coyotes will be doin' a heap of thinkin' on your way back tothe Arrow. "

"Good Lord!" said the elder Taggart; "you don't mean that? Why, it'sfifteen miles to the Arrow!"

"Shucks, " said Calumet; "so it is! An' it's after midnight, too. Butyou wouldn't want them poor, respectable critters to be gallivantin'around at this time of the night, when they ought to be in bed dreamin'of the horse-heaven which they're goin' to one of these days when theTaggarts don't own them any more. You can send a man over after themwhen you get back, an' if they want to go home, why, I'll let them. "His voice changed again; it rang with a menacing command. 

"Walkin' is good!" he said; "get goin'! You've got three minutes toget to that bend in the trail over by the crick. It's about half amile. I'm turnin' my back. If I see you when I turn around I'mworkin' that rifle there. "

There was a silence which might have lasted a second. Only this smallspace of time was required by the Taggarts to convince them thatCalumet was in deadly earnest. Then, with Neal leading, they began torun toward the bend in the trail. 

Shortly Calumet turned. The Taggarts had almost reached the bend, andwhile he watched they vanished behind it. 

Calumet picked up the rifle which he had taken from the elder Taggart, mounted his horse, and drove the Taggart animals into the corral. Hedecided that he would keep them there for an hour or so, to give theTaggarts time to get well on their way toward the Arrow. Had he turnedthem loose immediately they no doubt would have overtaken their mastersbefore the latter had gone very far. 

Remounting, Calumet rode to the bend in the trail. He carriedTaggart's rifle. About a mile out on the plain that stretched awaytoward the Arrow he saw the two men. They seemed to be walking rapidly. 

Calumet returned to the ranchhouse, got a pick and shovel, and wentback to the timber clump. An hour later he was again at the corral. He led the Taggart horses out, took them to the bend in the trail, andturned them loose, for he anticipated that the Taggarts would make acomplaint to the sheriff about them, and if they were found in the LazyY corral trouble would be sure to result. 

He watched them until they were well on their way toward the Arrow, andthen he returned to the ranchhouse and went to bed. No one had heardhim, he told himself with a grin as he stretched out on the bed besideDade to sleep the hour that would elapse before daylight. 

CHAPTER XX

BETTY TALKS FRANKLY

Betty, however, had not been asleep. After seeking her room she hadheard the rapid beat of hoofs, and, looking out of her window, she hadseen Calumet when he had raced from the ranchhouse in search ofTaggart. Still watching at the window, she had seen him returning; sawhim disappear into the timber clump. 

Some time later she had observed the Taggarts emerge and run as thoughtheir lives depended on haste. She watched Calumet as he rode by herwindow to take the two horses to the corral, stared at him withfascinated eyes, holding her breath with horror as he walked from theranchhouse to the timber clump with the pick and shovel on hisshoulder; stood at the window with a great fear gripping her until hecame back, still carrying the pick and shovel; watched him as hereleased the Taggart horses, drove them to the bend in the trail, andreturned to the house. His movements had been stealthy, but she heardhim when he came into the house and mounted the stairs. Then she heardhim no more. 

But a great dread was upon her. What meant that journey to the timberclump with the pick and shovel, and what had been done there during thehour that he had remained there? The idol she knew, was buried in aclearing in the timber clump; she did not know just where, for she hadlooked at the diagram only once, when Calumet's father had shown it toher. She had a superstitious dread of the idol and would not, underany circumstances, have examined the diagram again. But she did notconnect Calumet's visit to the timber clump with the diagram, for thelatter was concealed in a safe place, under a board in the closet thatled off her room; she had looked at it only once since Calumet hadreturned, and that only hastily, to make sure that it was still there, and she was certain that Calumet had no knowledge of its whereabouts. 

Could Calumet have-- She pressed her hands tightly over her breast atthis thought. She did not want to think that! But he had a violenttemper, and there were those men in Lazette, Denver and the other man, whom he had-- She shuddered. That must be the explanation for hisstrange actions. But still she had heard no shot, and there was achance that the diagram--

Tremblingly she made her way to the closet and removed the loose board. A tin box met her eyes, the box in which she had placed the diagram, and she lifted the box out, her fingers shaking as she fumbled at thefastening and raised the lid. 

The box was empty. 

For a long time she sat there looking at it, anger and resentmentfighting within her for the mastery. 

Of course, the idol really belonged to Calumet; she would have given itto him in time, but that thought did not lessen her resentment againsthim. Somehow, though, she was conscious of a feeling of gratefulnessthat his visit to the timber clump had no significance beyond therecovery of the idol, and, despite his offense against her privacy, shebegan after a while to view the matter with greater calm. And thoughshe did not close her eyes during the remainder of the night, lying onher back in bed and wondering how he had discovered the hiding place ofthe diagram, she came downstairs shortly after daylight and proceededcalmly about her duties. 

She managed, though, to be near the kitchen door when Calumet camedown, and, without appearing to do so, she watched his face closely ashe prepared himself for breakfast. But without result. If he hadgained possession of the idol his face did not betray him. But onceduring the meal she looked up unexpectedly, to see him looking at herwith amused, speculative eyes. Then she knew he was gloating over her. 

With an appearance of grave concern, and not a little well-simulatedexcitement, she approached him during the morning where he was workingat the corral fence. She was determined to discover the truth. 

"I have some bad news for you, " she said. 

"Shucks, " he returned, with a grin that almost disarmed her; "you don'tsay!"

"Yes, " she continued. "When your father left his other papers with mehe also left a diagram of a place in the timber clump where the idol ishidden. Some time yesterday the diagram was stolen. "

"You don't say?" he said. 

His voice had not been convincing enough; there had been a note ofmockery in it, and she knew he was guilty of the theft. 

She looked at him fairly. "You took it, " she accused. 

"I didn't take it, " he denied, returning her gaze. "But I've got it. What are you goin' to do about it?"

"Nothing, " she replied. "But do you think that was a gentleman'saction--to enter my room, to search it--even for something thatbelonged to you?"

"No gentleman took it, " he grinned; "therefore it couldn't have beenme. I told you I had it; I didn't take it. "

"Who did, then?"

"Do you know Telza?"

"Telza?"

"Toltec, " he said; "a Toltec from Yucatan. He got it yesterday--lastnight--while you was gassin' to your friend, Neal Taggart. "

She started, recollection filling her eyes. "A Toltec!" she said in anawed voice. "I have heard that they are fanatics where their religionis concerned; your father told me that his--that woman--Ezela--toldhim. She said that the tribe would never give up the search for theidol. He laughed at her; he laughed at me when he told me about it. "She drew a deep breath. "And so one of them has come, " she said. "Ithought I heard a noise upstairs last night, " she added. "It must havebeen then. "

"An', " he jeered, "you was so busy about that time that you couldn't goto investigate. That's how you guarded it--how you filled your trust. "

She gazed fixedly at him and his gaze dropped. "You are determined tocontinue your insults, " she said coldly. 

He reddened. "I reckon you deserve them, " he said sneeringly. "Taggart's makin' a fool of you. I heard him palaverin' to you lastnight. I followed him, but lost him. Then I got into the clearin' inthe timber. I run into a man named Al Sharp, who'd been knifed by theToltec. Him an' the Toltec had been detailed by Taggart to get thediagram. Sharp said Taggart knowed my dad had drawed one. Telza gotit last night while you was talkin' to Taggart. Frame-up. Sharp triedto take it away from Telza, an' Telza knifed him. Sharp's dead. Iburied him last night. Telza dropped the diagram. I got it. I reckonTelza has sloped. Then I met Taggart an' his dad. They reckoned theydidn't like my company overmuch an' they walked home. Didn't even waitto take their horses. "

She drew a breath which sounded strangely like relief. 

"Well, " she said; "it was fortunate that you happened to be there toget the idol. "

"Yes, " he drawled, with a suspicious grin; "I reckon you feel a wholelot like congratulatin' me. "

"I do, " she said. "Of course you were not to have the idol just yet, but it is better for you to have it before the time than that theTaggarts should get hold of it. "

"Do you know where the idol is hid?" he asked. 

She told him no, that she had never consulted the diagram. 

"I reckon, " he said, looking into her steady eyes, "that you're tellin'the truth. In that case it will be safe where it is, for a while. I'll be lookin' it up when I get hold of the money. "

Her chin raised triumphantly. "You will not get that so easily, " shesaid. "But, " she added, interestedly, "now that you know where theidol is, why don't you get it and convert it into cash?"

He reddened and eyed her with a decidedly crestfallen air. "I ain't somuch stuck on monkeyin' with them religious things, " he admitted. 

Again a doubt arose in his mind concerning her relations with NealTaggart. The fact that she had not divulged the hiding place of theidol to him was proof that if he had been trying to deceive her he hadnot succeeded. This thought filled him with a sudden elation. 

"Lately, " he said, "it begins to look as though you was gettin' somesense. You're gettin' reasonable. I reckon you'll be a bang-up girl, give you time. "

Her lips curled, but there was a flash of something in her eyes that hecould not analyze. But he was sure that it wasn't anger ordisapproval. Neither was it scorn. It seemed to him that it mighthave been mockery, mingled with satisfaction. Certainly there wasmockery in her voice when she answered him. 

"Indeed!" she said. "I presume I am to take that as a compliment?"

"But you will be a fool if you cotton up to Neal Taggart, " hecontinued, paying no attention to her question. "I know men. Taggart's a no good fourflusher, an' no woman can be anything if shetakes up with him. "

She looked at him with a dazzling smile. In the smile were thosequalities that he had noticed during his other conversations with herwhen he had accused her of meeting Taggart secretly--mirth, temperedwith doubt. Also, just now there was enjoyment. 

"I feel flattered to think that you are taking that much interest inme, " she said. "But when I am in need of someone to lay down rules ofconduct for me I shall let you know. At present I feel quite competentto take care of myself. But if you are very much worried, I don't mindtelling you that I have not 'cottoned up' to Neal Taggart. "

"What you meetin' him for, then?" he asked suspiciously. 

"I have not met Neal Taggart since the day you made him apologize tome, " she said slowly. 

"Who are you meetin', then?" he demanded. 

She looked straight at him. "I cannot answer that, " she said. 

His lips curled with disbelief, and her cheeks flushed a little. 

"Can't you trust anybody?" she said. 

"Why, " she continued as he kept silent, "don't you think that if I hadintended, as you said once before, to cheat you, to take _anything_that belongs to you, that I could have done so long ago? I had thediagram; I could have kept the idol, the money, the ranch. What couldyou have done; what could you do now? Don't you think it is about timefor you to realize that you are hurting no one but yourself byharboring such black, dismal thoughts. Nobody is trying to cheatyou--except probably the Taggarts. Everybody here is trying their bestto be friendly to you, trying to aid in making those reforms which yourfather mentioned. Dade likes you; Bob loves you. And even mygrandfather said the other day that you are not a bad fellow. You havebeen making progress, more than I expected you to make. But you mustmake more. "

The mirth had died out of her eyes; she was deeply in earnest. Calumetcould see that, and the knowledge kept him silent, hushed thehalf-formed sarcastic replies that were on his lips, made hissuspicions seem brutal, preposterous, ridiculous. There was muchfeeling in her voice; he was astonished and awed at the change in her;he had not seen her like this before. Her reserve was gone, thedisdain with it; there was naked sincerity in her glowing eyes, in herwords, in her manner. He watched her, fascinated, as she continued:

"I think you can see now that if I had wanted to be dishonest you couldnot have stopped me. My honesty proven, what must have been my motivein staying here to take your insults, to submit to your boorishness? Iwill tell you; you may believe me or not, as you please. I wasgrateful to your father. I gave him my promise. He wanted me to makea man of you. 

"When you first came here, and I saw what a burden I had assumed, I wasafraid. But I saw that you did not intend to take advantage of me;that you weren't like a good many men--brutes who prey on unprotectedwomen; that only your temper was wanton. And instead of fearing you Ibegan to pity you. I saw promise in you; you had manly impulses, butyou hadn't had your chance. I had faith in you. To a certain extentyou have justified that faith. You have shown flashes of goodness ofheart; you have exhibited generous, manly sympathies--to everybody butme. But I do not care [there was a suspicious moisture in her eyes anda queer tightening of the lips that gave the lie to this declaration]how you treat me. I intend to keep my promise to your father, nomatter what you do. But I want to make you understand that I am notthe kind of woman you take me to be--that I am not being made a fool ofby Neal Taggart--or by any man!"

Calumet did not reply; the effect of this passionate defense of herselfon him was deep and poignant, and words would not come to his lips. Truth had spoken to him--he knew it. At a stroke she had subdued him, humbled him. It was as though a light had suddenly been turned on him, showing him the mean, despicable side of him, contrasting it with thelittle good which had come into being--good which had been placedthere, fostered, and cultivated into promise. Then the light had beenas suddenly turned off, leaving him with a gnawing, impotent longing tobe what she wanted him to be. Involuntarily, he took his hat off toher and bowed respectfully. Then he reached a swift hand into an innerpocket of his vest and withdrew it, holding out a paper to her. Shetook it and looked wonderingly at it. It was the diagram of theclearing in the timber clump showing where the idol was buried. 

Her face paled, for she knew that his action in restoring the diagramto her was his tribute to her honesty, an evidence of his trust in her, despite his uttered suspicions. Also, it was his surrender. 

She looked up, intending to thank him. He was walking away, and didnot look around at her call. 

CHAPTER XXI

HIS FATHER'S FRIEND

Betty did not see Calumet again that day, and only at mealtime on theday following. He had nothing to say to her at these times, though itwas plain from the expression on his face when she covertly looked athim that he was thinking deeply. She hoped this were true; it was agood sign. On the morning of the third day he saddled the black horseand rode away, telling Bob, who happened to be near him when hedeparted, that he was going to Lazette. 

It was fully two hours after supper when he returned. Malcolm, Dade, and Bob had gone to bed. In the kitchen, sitting beside the table, onwhich was a spotlessly clean tablecloth, with dishes set for one--shehad saved Calumet's supper, and it was steaming in the warming-closetof the stove--Betty sat. She was mending Bob's stockings, and thinkingof her life during the past few months--and Calumet. And when sheheard the black come into the ranchhouse yard--she knew the black'sgait already--she trembled a little, put aside her mending, and went tothe window. 

The moon threw a white light in the yard, and she saw Calumet dismount. When he did not turn the black into the corral, hitching him, instead, to one of the rails, without even removing the saddle, she suspectedthat something unusual had happened. 

She was certain of it when she heard Calumet cross the porch with arapid step, and if in her certainty there had been the slightest doubt, it disappeared when he opened the kitchen door. 

He looked tired; he had evidently ridden hard, for the alkali dust wasthick on his clothing; he was breathing fast, his eyes were burningwith some deep emotion, his lips were grim and hard. 

He closed the door and stood with his back against it, looking at her. Something had wrought a wonderful change in him. He was not theCalumet she had known--brutal, vicious, domineering, sneering; thoughhe was laboring under some great excitement, suppressing it, so that toan eye less keen than hers it might have seemed that he had beenundergoing some great physical exertion and was just recovering fromit. It seemed to her that he had found himself; that that regenerationfor which she had hoped had come--had taken place between the time hehad left that morning and now. 

She did not know that it had been a mighty struggle of three days'duration; that the transformation had been a slow, tortuous thing tohim. She only knew that a great change had come over him; that, inspite of the evident strain which was upon him, there was somethinggentle, respectful, considerate, in his face, back of Its exteriorhardness--a slumbering, triumphant something that made an instantappeal to her, lighting her eyes, coloring her face, making her heartbeat with an unaccountable gladness. 

"Oh, " she said; "what has happened to you?"

"Nothin', " he answered, with a grave smile. "That is, nothin'--yet. Except that I've found out what a fool I've been. But I've found itout too late. "

"No, " she said, reaching the quick conclusion that he meant it was toolate for him to complete his reformation; "it is never too late. "

"I think I know what you mean, " he answered. "But you've got it wrong. It's somethin' else. I've got to get out of here--got to hit thebreeze out of the country. The sheriff is after me. "

She took a step backward. "What for?" she asked breathlessly. 

"For killin' Al Sharp. "

"Al Sharp!" she exclaimed, staring at him in amazement. "Why, you toldme that an Indian named Telza killed him!"

"That's what Sharp told me. The Taggarts claim I done it. They'veswore out a warrant. I got wind of it an' I'm gettin' out. There's nouse tryin' to fight the law in a case like this. "

"But you didn't kill him!" she cried, stiffening defiantly. "You saidyou didn't, and I know you wouldn't lie. They can't prove that you didit!"

He laughed. "You're the only one that would believe me. Do you reckonI could prove that I didn't do it? There's two against one. Theevidence is against me. The Taggarts found me in the clearing withSharp. I had the knife. No one else was around. I buried Sharp. TheTaggarts will swear against me. Where's my chance?"

She was silent, and he laughed again. "They've got me, I reckon--theTaggarts have. I fancied I was secure. I didn't think they'd try topull off anything like this. Shows how much dependence a man can putin anything. They don't look like they had sense enough to think ofsuch a thing. "

He stepped away from the door and went to the table, looking down atthe dishes she had set out for him, then at her, with a regretful smilewhich brought a quick pang to her. 

"Shucks, " he said, more to himself than to her; "if this had happenedthree months ago I'd have been plumb amused, an' I'd have had a heap offun with somebody before it could be got over with. Somehow, it don'tseem to be so damned funny now. 

"It's your fault, too, " he went on, regarding her with a direct, levelgaze. "Not that you got me into this mix-up, you understand--you'renot to blame for a thing--but it's your fault that it don't seem funnyto me. You've made me see things different. "

"I am so sorry, " she said, standing pale and rigid before him. 

"Sorry that I'm seein' things different?" he said. "No?" at her quick, reproachful negative. "Well, then, sorry that this had to happen. Well, I'm sorry, too. You see, " he added, the color reaching his face, "it struck me while I was ridin' over here that I wasn't goin' to beexactly tickled over leavin'. It's been seemin' like home to mefor--well, for a longer time than I would have admitted three days ago, when I had that talk with you. Or, rather, " he corrected, with asmile, "when you had that talk with me. There's a difference, ain'tthere? Anyways, there's a lot of things that I wouldn't have admittedthree days ago. But I've got sense now--I've got a new viewpoint. An'somehow, what I'm goin' to tell you don't seem to come hard. Becauseit's the truth, I reckon. I've knowed it right along, but kept holdin'it back. 

"Dade had me sized up right. He said I was a false alarm; that I'dbeen thinkin' of myself too much; that I'd forgot that there was otherpeople in the world. He was right; I'd forgot that other people hadfeelings. But if he hadn't told me that them was your views I'd havesalivated him. But I couldn't blame him for repeatin' things you'dsaid, because about that time I'd begun to do some thinkin' myself. 

"In the first place, I found that I wasn't a whole lot proud of myselffor guzzlin' your grandad, but I'd made a mistake an' I wasn't goin' togive you a chance to crow over me. I expect there's a lot of people dothat, but they're on the wrong trail--it don't bring no peace to aman's mind. Then, I thought you was like all the rest of the women I'dknown, an' when I found out that you wasn't, I thought you had theswelled head an' I figgered to take you down a peg. When I couldn't dothat it made me sore. It made me feel some cheap when you showed meyou trusted me, with me treatin' you like I did; but if it's anysatisfaction to you, I'm tellin' you that all the time I was treatin'you mean I felt like kickin' myself. 

"I reckon that's all. Don't get the idea that I'm doin' any mushin'. It's just the plain truth, an' I've had to tell you. That's why I cameover here--I wanted to square things with you before I leave. I reckonif I'd stay here you'd never know how I feel about it. "

She was staring at the floor, her face crimson, an emotion of deepgratitude and satisfaction filling her, though mingled with it was aqueer sensation of regret. Her judgment of him had been vindicated;she had known all along that this moment would come, but, now that ithad come, it was not as she had pictured it--there was discord wherethere should be harmony; something was lacking to make the situationperfect--he was going away. 

She stood nervously tapping the floor with the toe of her shoe, hardlyhearing his last words, almost forgetting that he was in the room untilshe saw his hand extended toward her. Then she looked up at him. There was a grave smile on his face. 

"I reckon you'll shake hands with me, " he said, "just to show that youain't holdin' much against me. Well, that right, " he said when shehesitated; "I don't deserve it. "

Her hand went out; he looked at it, with a start, and then seized itquickly in both of his, squeezed it hard, his eyes aflame. He droppedit as quickly, and turned to the door, saying: "You're a brave littlegirl. "

She stood silent until his hands were on the fastenings of the door. 

"Wait!" she said. She attempted to smile, but some emotion stiffenedher lips, stifling it. "You haven't had your supper, " she said; "won'tyou eat if I get it ready?"

"No time, " he said. "The law don't advertise its movements, as a usualthing, an' Toban's liable to be here any minute. An', " he added, aglint of the old hardness in his eyes, "I ain't lettin' him take me. It's only twenty miles to the line, an' the way I'm intendin' to travelI'll be over it before Toban can ketch me. I don't want him to ketchme--he was a friend of my dad's, an' puttin' him out of businesswouldn't help me none. "

"Will you be safe, then?" she asked fearfully. 

"I reckon. But I won't be stoppin' at the line. I'm through here;there's nothin' here to hold me. I reckon I'll never come back thisway. Shucks!" he added, leaving the door and coming back a little wayinto the room; "I expect I'm excited. I come near forgettin'. It'sabout the idol an' the money an' the ranch. I don't want any of them. They're yours. You've earned them an' you deserve them. Go to LasVegas an' petition the court to turn the property over to you; tell thejudge I flunked on the specifications. "

"I don't want your property, " she said in a strange voice. 

"You've got to take it, " he returned, with a quick look at her. "Here"--he drew a piece of paper and a short pencil from an insidepocket of his vest, and, walking to the table, wrote quickly, givingher the paper. 

"I herewith renounce all claim to my father's property, " it read; "Irefuse the conditions of the will. "

It was signed with his name. While he stood watching her, she tore thepaper to small bits, scattering them on the floor. 

"I think, " she said, regarding him fixedly, "that you are not exactlychivalrous in leaving me this way; that you are more concerned overyour own safety than over mine. What do you suppose will happen whenthe Taggarts discover that you have gone and that I am here alone?"

His eyes glinted with hatred. "The Taggarts, " he laughed. "Did youthink I was going to let them off so easy? I'm charged with onemurder, ain't I? Well, after tonight there won't be any Taggarts tobother anybody. "

"You mean to--" Her eyes widened with horror. 

"I reckon, " he said. "Did you think I was runnin' away withoutsquarin' things with them?" There was a threat of death in his coldlaugh. 

While she stood with clenched hands, evidently moved by the threat inhis manner and words, he said "So-long, " shortly, and swung the dooropen. 

She followed three or four steps, again calling upon him to "wait. " Heturned in the doorway and went slowly back to her. She was nervous, breathless, and he looked wonderingly at her. 

"Wait just a minute, " she said; "I have something to give you. "

She darted into the sitting-room; he could hear her running up thestairs. She was gone a long time, so long a time that he grewimpatient and paced the floor with long, hasty strides. He was certainthat it was fully five minutes before she reappeared, and then hermanner was more nervous than ever. 

"You act, " he said suspiciously, "as though you wanted to keep me here. "

"No, no, " she denied breathlessly, her eyes bright and her cheeksaflame. "How can you think that? I have brought you some money; youwill need it. " She had a leather bag in her hands, and she seized itby the bottom and turned out its contents--a score or more oftwenty-dollar gold pieces. 

"Take them, " she said as he hesitated. And, not waiting for him toact, she began to gather them up. She was nervous, though, and droppedmany of them several times, so that he felt that time would have beengained if she had not touched them. He returned them to the bag, withher help, and placed the bag in a pocket of his trousers. Then oncemore he said good-by to her. 

This time, however, she stood between him and the door, and when hetried to step around her she changed her position so as to be always infront of him. 

"Tell me where you are going?" she said. 

"What do you want to know for?" he demanded. 

"Just because, " she said; "because I want to know. "

His eyes lighted with a deep fire as he looked at her. She was veryclose to him; he felt her warm breath; saw her bosom heave rapidly, anda strange intoxication seized him. 

"Shall I tell you?" he said, with sudden hoarseness, as though askinghimself the question. He grasped her by the shoulders and lookedclosely at her, his eyes boring, probing, as though searching for someevidence of duplicity in hers. For an instant his gaze held. Then helaughed, softly, self-accusingly. 

"I thought you was stringin' me--just for a minute, " he said. "Butyou're true blue, an' I'll tell you. I'm goin' first to the Arrow tohand the Taggarts their pass-out checks. Then I'm hittin' the breezeto Durango. If you ever want me, send for me there, an' I'll come backto you, sheriff or no sheriff. "

She put out a hand to detain him, but he seized it and pressed it toher side, the other with it. Then his arms went around her shoulders, she was crushed against him, and his lips met hers. 

Then she was suddenly released, and he was at the door. 

"Good-by, " he said as he stood in the opening, the glare of light fromthe lamp showing his face, pale, the eyes illumined with a fire thatshe had never seen in them; "I'm sorry it has to end this way--I washopin' for somethin' different. You've made me almost a man. "

Then the door closed and he was gone. She stood by the table for a fewminutes, holding tightly to it for support, her eyes wide fromexcitement. 

"Oh, " she said, "if I could only have kept him here a few minuteslonger!"

She walked to the door and stood in the opening, shading her eyes withher hands. He had not been gone long, but already he was riding theriver trail; she saw him outlined in the moonlight, leaning a littleforward in the saddle, the black running with a long, swift, surestride. She watched them until a bend in the trail shut them fromview, and then with a sob she bowed her head in her arms. 

CHAPTER XXII

NEAL TAGGART VISITS

When a little later Betty heard hoof-beats in the ranchhouse yard--thesounds of a horseman making a leisurely approach--she left the door andwent out upon the porch. 

She knew who the horseman was; she had seen him from the window of herroom when she had gone upstairs to get the money for Calumet. Morethan once she had seen the sheriff coming over the hill--the same hillupon which Calumet and Neal Taggart had fought their duel--and sherecognized the familiar figure. On his previous visits to theranchhouse, however, Toban had left his horse in the timber clump nearthe house. She was not surprised, though, to hear him coming into theranchhouse yard tonight, for his errand now was different. 

Toban had evidently intended to hitch his pony to the corral fence, forit was toward it that he was directing the animal, when he caught sightof Betty on the porch and rode up beside her. 

"What's up?" he inquired, leaning over in the saddle and peeringclosely at her; "you look flustered. Where's Marston?"

"Gone, " she told him. 

He straightened. "Gone where?" he demanded. 

"Away--forever, " she said weakly. "He heard you were after himfor--for killing that man Sharp--and he left. "

Toban cursed. "So he got wind of it, did he? The Taggarts must havegassed about it. Marston told you, did he? Why didn't you keep himhere? He didn't kill Sharp!"

"I know it, " she said; "he told me he didn't, and I believed him. Hesaid you had a warrant for his arrest; that you were coming for him, and I was afraid that if you met him out on the range somewhere therewould be shooting. I knew if I could keep him here until you came youwould be able to fix it up some way--to prove his innocence. I was soglad, when I ran upstairs to get some money for him and looked out ofthe window. For you were coming. But he wouldn't stay. "

Toban dismounted and stood in front of her, his eyes probing into hers. "I've got evidence that he didn't kill Sharp, " he said; "I saw thewhole deal. But I reckon, " he added, a subtle gleam in his eyes, "thatit's just as well that he's gone--he was a heap of trouble while he washere, anyway, wasn't he?"

"No, " she said quickly, defiantly; "he--" She broke off and looked athim with wide eyes. "Oh, " she said with a quavering laugh; "you arepoking fun at me. You liked him, too; you told me you did!"

"I reckon I like him, " said Toban, his lips grimming; "I like him wellenough not to let him pull his freight on account of the Taggarts. Why, damn it!" he added explosively; "I was his father's friend, an' Iain't seein' him lose everything he's got here when he's innocent. Which way did he go?"

There was a wild hope in her eyes; she was breathing fast. "Oh, " shesaid; "are you going after him? He went to the Arrow--first. He toldme he was going to kill the Taggarts. Then he is going to get out ofthe Territory. Oh, Toban, catch him--please! I--"

Toban laughed. "I ain't been blind, girl, " he said; "the talks I'vehad with you in old Marston's office have wised me up to how thingsstand between you an' him. I'll ketch him, don't worry about that. That black horse of his is some horse, but he ain't got nothin' on myold dust-thrower, an' I reckon that in fifteen miles--"

He was climbing into the saddle while talking, and at his last word hegave the spurs to his horse, a strong, clean-limbed bay, and was awayin a cloud of dust. 

Betty watched him, her hands clasped over her breast, her body rigidand tense, her eyes straining, until she saw him vanish around the bendin the trail; and then for a long time she stood on the porch, scanningthe distant horizon, in the hope that she might again see Toban and beassured that nothing had happened to him. And when at last she saw aspeck moving swiftly along a distant rise, she murmured a prayer andwent into the house. 

When she closed the kitchen door and stood against it, looking aroundthe room, she was afflicted with a depressing sense of loss, and sherealized fully how Calumet had grown into her life, and what it wouldmean to her if she lost him. He had been mean, cruel, and vicious, buthe had awakened at last to a sense of his shortcomings; he was like aboy who had had no training, who had grown wild and ungovernable, butwho, before it had become too late, had awakened to the futility, theabsurdity, the falseness of it all, and was determined to begin anew. And she felt--as she had felt all along--even when she had seen him athis worst--that she must mother him, must help him to build up a newstructure of self, must lift him, must give him what the world had sofar denied him--his chance. And she sat at the table and leaned herhead in her arms and prayed that Toban might overtake him before hereached the Arrow. For she did not want him to come back to her withthe stain of their blood on his hands. 

She was startled while sitting at the table, for she heard a sound fromthe sitting-room, and she got up to investigate. But it was only Bob, who, hearing the sounds made by Toban and herself, had come toinvestigate. She urged him to return to his room and to bed, andkissed him when he started up the stairs, so warmly that he looked ather in surprise. 

She returned to the kitchen, sitting at the table and watching theclock. A half hour had elapsed since Toban's departure when she heardthe faint beat of hoofs in the distance, and with wildly beating heartgot up and went out on the porch. 

For a moment she could not determine the direction from which thesounds came, but presently she saw a rider approaching from thedirection of the river, and she stepped down from the porch andadvanced to meet him. She feared at first that it was Toban returningalone, and she halted and stood with clenched hands, but as the ridercame closer she saw it was not Toban but an entire stranger. Sheretreated to the porch and watched his approach. 

He was a cowboy and he rode up to the edge of the porch confidently, calling to her when he came close enough to make himself heard. 

"My name's Miller, " he said, taking his hat off and showing her theface of a man of thirty--"Harvey Miller. Me an' my side-kicker wasdrivin' a bunch of Three Bar beeves to Lazette an' we was fools enoughto run afoul of that quicksand at Double Fork, about five miles downthe crick. We've bogged down about forty head an' I've come for help. You got any men around here?"

"Oh, " she said; "how careless you were! Didn't you know the quicksandwas there?"

"I ain't been runnin' this range a whole lot, " said the puncheruneasily; "but I reckon even then I ought to be able to nose out aquicksand. But I didn't, an' there's forty beeves that's goin' tocow-heaven pretty soon if somethin' ain't done. If you've got any menaround here which could give us a lift, we'd be pleased to thank you. "

"Of course, " she said. "Wait!"

She went into the house and to the stairs where she called to Dade andMalcolm, and presently, rubbing their eyes, the two came down. Theywere eager to assist the puncher in his trouble and without delay theycaught up the two horses that Calumet had bought soon after his comingto the ranch, saddled and bridled them and rode out of the yard. 

The unfortunate puncher did not wait for them. When they had announcedtheir intention of helping him, he had told them that he would ride onahead to help his partner, leaving them to follow as soon as they could. 

"I reckon you know where it is, " was his parting word to them. "DoubleFork. I reckon I'll know it again when I see it, " he added, grimlyjoking. 

Betty watched Dade and Malcolm as they rode away. From the porch shecould follow their movements until they traveled about a mile of thedistance toward Double Fork. She saw them vanish into the wood, andwhen she could see them no longer she turned and went into the house. 

She went to the chair in which she had previously been sitting, restingher arms on the table, but she was too nervous, too excited, to sit andshe presently got up and stood, looking anxiously at the face of theclock on a shelf in a corner. 

Toban had been gone a full hour, and she wondered if by this time hehad overtaken Calumet, or whether Calumet was racing ahead of him onhis way to execute vengeance upon the Taggarts. She was praying mutelythat Toban might overtake him before this could happen when she heard aslight sound behind her and turned swiftly to see Neal Taggart standingin the doorway, grinning at her. 

The room darkened before her eyes as she swayed weakly and caught atthe table to support herself, and when she finally regained control ofherself she forced herself to stand erect. There was a great fear inher heart, but she fought it down and faced Taggart with some semblanceof dignity and composure. 

"What are you doing here?" she demanded; "what do you want?"

Taggart's face wore an evil smile. Before answering her he fastenedthe door behind him, left it and went to the sitting-room door, peeredquickly into the room and swung the door shut, barring it. Betty stoodbeside the table, watching him with a sort of fascination, a littlecolor now in her face, though she lacked the power to speak or tointerfere with Taggart's movements. 

When he had barred the sitting-room door he came and stood beside thetable, and there was a repulsive, insulting leer on his face as helooked down at her. 

"Do you know what I came here for?" he said. 

"No, " she answered. 

He reached out suddenly and grasped her hands, pulling her roughly overto him. She gave a startled cry and then stood silent before him, slender and white, a subdued little figure dwarfed by his huge bulk, seemingly helpless. 

"I'll tell you, " he said, the strange hoarseness of deep passion in hisvoice. "Me an' my dad are leavin' the country tonight. We sold theArrow today, an' by this time tomorrow we'll be among the missin' inthis section of the country. But there's some things to be done beforewe pull our freight. You think you've been damned slick about theidol--you an' that mule-kickin' shorthorn, Calumet Marston! But we'vefooled you, " he continued with a short, ugly laugh; "fooled you clean!Mebbe you know this, an' mebbe you don't. But I'm tellin' you. We setTelza, the Toltec, an' Sharp to get the diagram of the place where theidol is. They didn't get it because the clearin' ain't dug up any. Telza knifed Sharp an' he's sloped, likely figgerin' that this countryain't healthy for him any more. You've got the diagram an' I want it. I'm goin' to get it if I have to kill you to get it! Understand!

"You've got no chance, " he sneered, as she looked around the roomfurtively, hopelessly. "We framed up a murder charge on Calumet andwe've been in the timber since dark waitin' for the sheriff to come an'get him. We saw him hit the breeze toward the Arrow, an' we saw thesheriff go after him. Neither of them can be back here for hours yet, an' when they do get back I'll have done what I've set out to do. "

He laughed again, harshly, triumphantly. "Dade an' Malcolm botheredme a bit until I thought of sendin' Harvey Miller here with that fairytale about the forty beeves bogged down in Double Fork, but I reckonnow--"

She gasped, comprehending the trap he had set for her, and his grip onher hands tightened. 

"Dade an' Malcolm can't get back for an hour yet, " he gloated, "an' bythat time we'll be miles away. " His voice changed from mockery tosavage determination. "I want that diagram, an' I want it right now, or I'll tear you to pieces. Do you understand? I'll beat you up so'syour own mother wouldn't know you. " His grip tightened on her arms, they were twisted until she screamed with agony. 

In this extremity her thoughts went to Calumet; she remembered vividlywhat he had said about the idol when she had asked him why he did notget it and convert it into cash. "I ain't so much stuck on monkeyin'with them religious things, " he had said. And she was certain that ifCalumet knew of her danger he would not have had her hesitate aninstant in relinquishing the diagram to Taggart. 

The idol had brought him nothing but evil, anyway, and she was certainthat Calumet would not mourn its loss, even if Taggart were to be thegainer by it, if its possession were to entail punishment, death, perhaps, to her. 

"Wait!" she cried as Taggart gave her arms an extra vicious twitch;"you may have it!"

He released her with a greedy, satisfied grin and stood crouching andalert while she turned her back to him and fumbled in her bodice, whereshe had kept the diagram since the discovery of its former hiding placeby Telza. 

She turned presently and gave him the paper, and he seized it eagerlyand examined it, gloating over it. 

"That's it, " he said; "that's the clearing!"

She was holding her arms, where he had squeezed them, her face flushedwith rage at the indignity he had offered her. She stood rigid, defiant. 

"If that is all you came for, you may go, " she said; "go instantly!"

He jammed the paper into his pocket and grinned at her. 

"It ain't all, " he said. "I owe you somethin' for the way you'vetreated me. I'm goin' to pay it. You've been too much of a lady totalk to me, but you'll live here with that--"

He reached suddenly out and seized her hands again, attempting to throwan arm around her. She evaded the arm and wrenched herself free, slipping past him and darting to the other side of the table. He stoodopposite her, his hands on the table as he leaned toward her, grinningat her, brutally and bestially, and pausing so as to prolong hisenjoyment of her predicament. 

"I'll get you, damn you!" he said; "I've got the time and you can't getout. " He seized the kerosene lamp on the table and walking backward, placed it on a shelf at the side of the wall near the stove. Then witha chuckle of satisfaction and mockery he again went to the tableseizing its edge in his hands and shoving it against her so that shewas forced to retreat from its advance. 

She divined instantly that he intended to force her against one of thewalls and thus corner her, and she opposed her strength to his, pushingwith all her power against the table in an effort to retard its advance. 

It was to no purpose, for he was a strong man and his passions werearoused, and in spite of her brave struggle the table continued to moveand she to retreat before it. 

"Oh!" she said, in a panic of fear and dread, her face flushed, hereyes wide and bright, her breath coming in great panting sobs; "Oh! youbeast! You beast!"

He did not answer. His eyes were burning with a wanton fire, theyglowed with the fierce, fell purpose of animal desire; he breathedshrilly, rapidly, gaspingly, though the strength that he had beencompelled to use to overmatch hers had not been great. 

She did not succeed in retarding the advance of the table, but she didsucceed in directing its course a little, so that instead of backingher against the wall, as he no doubt intended to do, she brought upfinally against the stove in the corner. 

There was a fire in the stove--she had kept it going to keep Calumet'ssupper warm--and when she felt her body against it she reached aroundand secured a flat iron. The handle burned her hand, but she lifted itand hurled it with all her force at his head. He dodged, laughingderisively. She seized another and threw it, and this he dodged also. She was reaching for the teakettle when he shoved the table aside andlunged at her, and she dropped the kettle with a scream of horror andslipped around the stove to the wall near the sitting-room door, reaching the latter and trying frantically to unbar it. 

She heard Bob's voice on the other side of the door; he was calling, "Betty! Betty!" in shrill, scared accents, and when Taggart leaped ather, seizing her by the shoulders as she worked with the fastenings ofthe door, she screamed to Bob to get the rifle from Malcolm's room, directing him to go out the front way, go around to the kitchen andshoot Taggart through one of the windows. 

How long she struggled with Taggart there by the door she did not know. It might have been an hour or merely a minute. But she fought him, clawing at his face with her hands, biting him, kicking him. And sheremembered that he was getting the better of her, that his breath wasin her face and that he was dragging her toward the lamp on the shelf, evidently intending to extinguish it--that he had almost reached it, was, indeed, reaching a hand out to grasp it, when there came a flashfrom the window, the crash of breaking glass, and the roar of anexploding firearm. 

She also remembered thinking that Bob had taken a desperate chance inshooting at Taggart when she was so close to him, and she had a vividrecollection of Taggart releasing her and staggering back withoututtering a sound. She caught a glimpse of his face as he sank to thefloor; there was a gaping hole in his forehead and his eyes were setand staring with an expression of awful horror and astonishment. Thenthe kitchen darkened, she felt the floor rising to meet her, and sheknew no more. 

CHAPTER XXIII

FOR THE ALTARS OF HIS TRIBE

The first sound that Betty heard when consciousness began to return toher was a loud pounding at the kitchen door. 

She had fallen to the floor just beneath the shelf on which the lampsat, and she raised herself on an elbow and looked around. At firstshe did not remember what had happened, and then she saw Taggart, lyingface upward on the floor near her, the frightful hole in his forehead, and she shuddered as recollection in a sickening flood came to her. Bob, dear Bob, had not failed her. 

She got up, trembling a little, breathing a prayer of thankfulness, shrinking from the Thing that lay on the floor at her feet with itshorror-stricken eyes staring straight up at the ceiling, making her wayto the kitchen door, for the pounding had grown louder and moreinsistent, and she could hear a voice calling hoarsely to her. 

But it did not seem to be Bob's voice; it was deeper and more resonant, and vibrated clearly, strongly, and with passion. It was strangelyfamiliar, though, and she shook a little with a nameless anxiety andanticipation as she fumbled at the fastenings of the door and swung itopen. 

It was not Bob, but Calumet, who stepped in. One of his heavy pistolswas in his right hand; with the left he had helped her to swing thedoor open, and he stood, for the first brief instant following hisentrance, his arms extended, gazing sharply at Taggart. Then, quickly, apparently satisfied that he need have no concern for his enemy, heturned to Betty, placed both hands on her shoulders--the heavy pistolin his right resting on her--she felt the warmth of the barrel as ittouched the thin material of her dress and knew then that it had beenhe who had fired the shot that had been the undoing of herassailant--and holding her away from him a little peered searchingly ather. 

[Illustration: Calumet stepped in. ]

His face was pale, his lips stiff and white, and his eyes were alightwith the wanton fire that she had seen in them many times, though nowthere was something added to their expression--concern and thankfulness. 

"God!" he said, after a little space, during which she looked at himwith shining eyes. She no longer gave any thought to Taggart; thestruggle with him was an already fading nightmare in her recollection;he had been eliminated, destroyed, by the man who stood before her--bythe man whose presence in the kitchen now stirred her to an emotionthat she had never before experienced--by the man who had come back toher. And that was all that she had cared for--that he would come back. 

With a short laugh he released her and stepped over to where Taggartlay, looking down at him with a cold, satisfied smile. 

"I reckon you won't bother nobody any more, " he said. 

He turned to Betty, the pale stiffness of his lips softening a littleas she smiled at him. 

"I want to thank you, " he said, "for sendin' Toban after me. He caughtme. I wasn't ridin' so fast an' I heard him comin'. I knowed who itwas, an' stopped to have it out with him. He yelled that he didn'twant me; that you'd sent him after me. We met Dade an' Malcolm--we'dpassed Double Fork an' nothin' was bogged down. So we knowedsomebody'd framed somethin' up. I come on ahead. " He grinned. "Toban's been braggin' some about his horse, but I reckon that don't goany more. That black horse can run. " He indicated Taggart. "I reckonhe come here just to bother you, " he said. 

She told him about the diagram and he started, stepping quickly towhere Taggart lay, searching in his pockets until he found the paper. 

Then he went to the door. Standing in it, he looked as he had lookedthat day when he had humiliated Neal Taggart in her presence. Thegentleness which she had seen in him some hours before--and which shehad welcomed--had disappeared; his lips had become stiff and paleagain, his eyes were narrowed and brilliant with the old destroyingfire. She grew rigid and drew a deep, quivering breath, for she sawthat the pistol was still in his hand. 

"What are you going to do?" she asked. 

"I reckon old Taggart will still be waitin' in the timber grove, " hesaid with a short, grim laugh. "They've bothered me enough. I'm goin'to send him where I sent his coyote son. "

At that word she was close to him, her hands on his shoulders. 

"Don't!" she pleaded; "please don't!" She shuddered and cast a quick, shrinking glance at the man on the floor. "There has been enoughtrouble tonight, " she said. "You stay here!" she commanded, trying topull him away from the door, but not succeeding. 

He seized her face with his hands in much the same manner in which hehad seized it in his father's office on the night of his return to theLazy Y--she felt the cold stock of the pistol against her cheek andshuddered again. A new light had leaped into his eyes--the suspicionthat she had seen there many times before. 

"Are you wantin' old Taggart to get away with the idol?" he demanded. 

"He can't!" she denied. "He hasn't the diagram, has he? You have justput it in your pocket!"

A quick embarrassment swept over him; he dropped his hands from herface. "I reckon that's right, " he admitted. "But I'm goin' to' sendhim over the divide, idol or no idol. "

"He won't be in the timber grove, " she persisted; "he must have heardthe shooting and he wouldn't stay. "

"I reckon he won't be able to run away from that black horse, " helaughed. "I'll ketch him before he gets very far. "

"You shan't go!" she declared, making a gesture of impotence. "Don'tyou see?" she added. "It isn't Taggart that I care about--it's you. Idon't want you to be shot--killed. I won't have it! If Taggart hasn'tgone by this time he will be hidden somewhere over there and when hesees you he will shoot you!"

"Well, " he said, watching her face with a curious smile; "I'm takin' alook, anyway. " In spite of her efforts to prevent him he stepped overthe threshold. She was about to follow him when she saw him wheelswiftly, his pistol at a poise as his gaze fell upon something outsidethe ranchhouse. And then she saw him smile. 

"It's Bob, " he said; "with a rifle. " And he helped the boy, white offace and trembling, though with the light of stern resolution in hiseyes, into the kitchen. 

"Bob'll watch you, " he said; "so's nothin' will happen to you. Besides--" he leaned forward in a listening attitude; "Toban an' theboys are comin'. I reckon what I'm goin' to do won't take me long--ifTaggart's in the timber. "

He stepped down and vanished around the corner of the ranchhouse. 

He had scarcely gone before there was a clatter of hoofs in theranchhouse yard, a horse dashed up to the edge of the porch, came to asliding halt and the lank figure of Toban appeared before the door inwhich Betty was standing. 

He looked at her, noted her white face, and peered over her shoulder atBob, with the rifle, at Taggart on the floor. 

"Holy smoke!" he said; "what's happened?"

She told him quickly, in short, brief sentences; her eyes glowing withfear. He tried to squeeze past her to get into the kitchen, but sheprevented him, blocking the doorway, pushing hysterically against himwith her hands. 

"Calumet has gone to the timber grove--to the clearing--to look for TomTaggart. Taggart will ambush him, will kill him! I don't want himkilled! Go to him, Toban--get him to come back!"

"Shucks, " said Toban, grinning; "I reckon you don't need to worry none. If Taggart's over in the timber an' he sees Calumet he'll justnaturally forget he's got a gun. But if it'll ease your mind any, I'llgo after him. Damn his hide, anyway!" he chuckled. "I was braggin' upmy cayuse to him, an' after we met Dade an' Malcolm he run plumb awayfrom me. Ride! Holy smoke!"

He crossed the porch, leaped into the saddle and disappeared amid aclatter of hoofs. 

Betty stood rigid in the doorway, listening--dreading to hear thatwhich she expected to hear--the sound of a pistol shot which would tellher that Calumet and Taggart had met. 

But no sound reached her ears from the direction of the timber grove. She heard another sound presently--the faint beat of hoofs that grewmore distinct each second. It was Dade and Malcolm coming, she knew, and when they finally rode up and Dade flung himself from the saddleand darted to her side she was paler than at any time since her firstsurprise of the night. 

Again she was forced to tell her story. And after it was finished, andshe had watched Dade and Malcolm carry Neal Taggart from the room, shewent over to where Bob sat, took him by the shoulder and led him to oneof the kitchen windows, and there, holding him close to her, her facewhite, she stared with dreading, anxious eyes through the glass towardthe timber clump. She would have gone out to see for herself, but sheknew that she could do nothing. If he did not come back she knew thatshe would not want to stay at the Lazy Y any longer; she knew thatwithout him--

She no longer weighed him in the balances of her affection as she stoodthere by the window, she did not critically array his good qualitiesagainst the bad. She had passed that point now. She merely wantedhim. That was all--she just wanted him. And when at last she saw himcoming; heard his voice, she hugged Bob closer to her, and with herface against his sobbed silently. 

A few minutes after he left the ranchhouse Calumet was in the clearingin the timber grove, standing over the body of a man who lay faceupward beside a freshly-dug hole at the edge of a mesquite clump. Hewas still standing there when a few minutes later Toban came clatteringup on his horse. The sheriff dismounted and stood beside him. 

Calumet gave Toban one look and then spoke shortly:

"Taggart, " he said. 

"Lord!" said Toban, in an awed voice; "what in blazes did you do tohim? I didn't hear no shootin'! Is he dead?"

Both kneeled over the prone figure and Calumet pointed to the haft of aknife that was buried deep in the body near the heart. 

"Telza's, " said Calumet, as he examined the handle. "I dropped it herethe other night; the night Sharp was killed. "

"Correct, " said Toban; "I saw you drop it. " He smiled at the quick, inquiring glance Calumet gave him. 

"I was comin' through here after tendin' to some business an' I sawTelza knife Sharp. I piled onto Telza an' beat him up a little. Lordy, how that little copper-skinned devil did fight! But I squelchedhim. I heard some one comin', thought it was one of Taggarts, an'dragged Telza behind that scrub brush over there. I saw you come, butI wasn't figgerin' on makin' any explanations for my bein' around theLazy Y at that time of the night, an' besides I saw the Taggartssneakin' up on you. While they was gassin' to you I had one knee onTelza's windpipe an' my rifle pointin' in the general direction of theTaggarts, figgerin' that if they tried to start anything I'd beat themto it. But as it turned out it wasn't necessary. I sure appreciatedyour tender-heartedness toward them poor dumb brutes of the Taggarts. 

"After you set the Taggarts to walkin' home, I took Telza to Lazettean' locked him up for murderin' Sharp. "

"I reckon, then, " said Calumet, a puzzled frown wrinkling his foreheadas he looked from Taggart to the freshly dug hole; "that somebody elsekilled Taggart. It was someone who knew where the idol was, too--he'dbeen diggin' for it. "

"I reckon you've got me, " said Toban. "Sharp an' Telza an' you an'Betty is the only one's that ever saw the diagram. I saw you pick itup from where Telza dropped it when I was maulin' him. I know youdidn't do any diggin' for the idol; I know Betty wouldn't; an' Sharp'sdead, an' Telza's in jail--"

There was a clatter of hoofs from the direction of the ranchhouse. Both men turned to confront a horseman who was coming rapidly towardthem, and as he came closer Toban cried out in surprise:

"Ed Bernse!" he said; "what in thunder are you doin' here?"

"Trailin' a jail breaker!" said the latter. "That copper-skinnedweazel we had in there slipped out some way. He stole a horse an' comein this direction. Got an hour's start of me!"

Calumet laughed shortly and turned to the new-made excavation, making athorough examination of it. 

At its bottom was a square impression, a mold such as would be left bythe removal of a box. Calumet stood up and grinned at Toban. 

"The idol's gone, " he said. "Telza's got it. You go back to Lazette, "he said to Bernse, "an' tell the man who owns the horse that CalumetMarston will be glad to pay for it--he's that damned glad he's got ridof the idol. "

Followed by Bernse, Calumet and Toban returned to the ranchhouse. Whenthey neared it they were met by Dade and Malcolm, bearing between themthe body of Neal Taggart. Calumet directed them to the clearing, telling them briefly what they would find there, and then, with Tobanand Bernse, continued on to the ranchhouse. 

Bernse hesitated at the door. "I reckon I'll be lightin' out fortown, " he said to the sheriff. 

"Wait, " said the sheriff; "I'll be goin' that way myself, directly. "

Calumet had preceded Toban. As the latter was speaking to Bernse, Calumet stood before Betty, who, with Bob, had moved to thesitting-room door and was standing, pale, her eyes moist and brilliantwith the depth of her emotions. 

Briefly, he told her what he had found in the clearing. 

"And the idol's gone, " he concluded. "Telza's got it. "

"Thank God!" she exclaimed, devoutly. 

"I reckon, " came Toban's voice, as he stepped across the kitchen floortoward them, "that we'd better bring this here idol business to an end. Mebbe it's bothered you folks a heap, but it's had me sorta uneasy, too. " He grinned at Betty. "Mebbe you'd better show him his dad'slast letter, " he suggested. "I reckon it'll let me out of this deal. An' I'm sure wantin' to go back home. "

Betty vanished into the sitting-room in an instant, and presentlyreturned bearing an envelope of the shape and size which had containedall of the elder Marston's previous communications to Calumet. Shepassed it over to the latter and she and the sheriff watched him whilehe read. 

"MY DEAR SON: If you receive this you will understand that by this timeBetty is satisfied that you have qualified for your heritage. I thankyou and wish I were there to shake your hand, to look into your eyesand tell you how glad I am for your sake. 

"As soon as you have your affairs in shape I want you to marryBetty--if she will have you. I think she will, for she is in love withyour picture. 

"By this time you will know that I didn't leave Betty alone to copewith the Taggarts. If Dave Toban has kept his word--and I know hehas--he has visited the Lazy Y pretty often. I didn't want you to knowthat he was back of Betty, and so I have told him to visit hersecretly. He will give you what money is left in the bank at LasVegas--we thought it would be safer over there. 

"I want to thank you again. God bless you. 

"Your father, "JAMES MARSTON. "

Calumet slowly folded the letter and placed it into a pocket. Helooked at Toban, a glint of reproach in his eyes. 

"So, it was you that I kept hearin' in the office--nights, " he said. 

"I reckon, " said Toban. He looked at Betty and grinned. 

Calumet also looked at her. His face was sober. 

"I reckon I've been some fool, " he said. "But I was more than a foolwhen I thought--"

"I didn't blame you much for that, " smiled Betty. "You see, both timesyou heard us talking it happened that Taggart was somewhere in thevicinity, and--"

"Well, " interrupted Toban with a grin; "I reckon you two will be ableto get along without any outside interference, now. "

They both watched in silence as he went to the door and steppedoutside. He halted and looked at them, whereat they both reddened. Then he grinned widely and was gone. 

Betty stood at one side of the sitting-room door, Calumet at the other. Both were in the kitchen. Bob, also, was in the kitchen, thoughCalumet and Betty did not see him; so it appeared to Bob. Having somerecollection of a certain light in Betty's eyes on the night thatCalumet had brought home the puppy, Bob's wisdom impelled him tocompare it with the light that was in them now, and he suspected--heknew--

And so, very gently, very quietly, with infinite care and patience, lest they become aware of his presence, he edged toward the kitchendoor, his rifle in hand. Still they did not seem to notice him, and sohe passed through the door, into the dining-room, backed to the stairs, and so left them. 

The silence between Betty and Calumet continued, and they still stoodwhere they had stood when Bob had stolen away, for they heard soundsoutside that warned them of the approach of Dade and Malcolm. 

But it seemed they did not see Dade and Malcolm stop at one of thekitchen windows, and certainly they did not hear the whisperedconversation that was carried on between the two. 

"Shucks, " said Dade; "it begins to look like Cal an' Betty's quarrelis--"

"I reckon we won't go in, " decided Malcolm; "not right now. Mebbe inan hour, or so. Let's go down to the bunkhouse and play a littlepitch. "

They were all alone now. And Love had not been blind to the stealthyactivities that had been carried on around it. 

Betty turned her head and looked at Calumet. He smiled at her--it wasthe smile of a man who has won a battle with something more than thematerial things; it was the smile of a man who has conquered self--thesmile of the ruler who knows the weakness of the citadel he has takenand plans its strengthening. It was the smile of the master whorealizes the potent influence of the ally who has aided in hisexaltation and who meditates reward through the simple method ofbestowing upon the ally without reservation that citadel which she hashelped to take and which, needless to say, she prizes. But it wassomething more, too, that smile. It was the smile of the mere Man--theman, repentant, humble, petitioning to the woman he has selected as hismate. 

"I reckon, " he said; "that they all thought we wanted to be alone. "

But the ally was not prepared for this precipitate bestowal of reward, and as she blushed and looked down at the toe of her shoe, sticking outfrom beneath the hem of her skirt, she looked little like a person whohad conducted a bitter war for the master who stood near her. 

"Oh, " she said; "did you hear them?"

"I reckon I heard them, " he said. He went closer to her. "They'rewise--Dade an' Malcolm. Bob, too. Wiser than me. But I'm gettin'sense, an' I'll come pretty close to bein' a man--give me time. All Ineed is a boss. An' if you--"

"I reckon, " said Dade, stretching himself an hour later, "that we'llturn in. That brandin' today, an' that ridin' tonight has bushedme--kinda. "

Malcolm agreed and they stepped to the bunkhouse door. 

The moonlight threw a mellow glare upon the porch of the ranchhousenear the kitchen door. It bathed in its effulgent flood two figures, the boss and the master, who were sitting close together--very closetogether--on the porch. 

The two figures came into instant focus in Dade's vision. He steppedback with a amused growl and gave place to Malcolm, who also looked. 

Silently they went back into the bunkhouse. 

"I reckon, " suggested Dade, from the darkness, "that if we're figgerin'to go to bed we'll have to bunk right here. There's no tellin' whenthem two will get through mushin'. An' it's been too hard a tussle forthem to have us disturbin' them now. "

From the porch there came a low protest from the ally. 

"Don't, Cal, " she said; "don't you see that Dade and Malcolm arewatching us?"

"Jealous, I guess, " he laughed. "Well, let them watch. I reckon, ifthey're around here for any time, after this, they'll see me kissin'you plenty more. "

THE END