THE RUSTLERS OF PECOS COUNTY

 By Zane Grey

 1914

Chapter 1

VAUGHN STEELE AND RUSS SITTELL

In the morning, after breakfasting early, I took a turn up and down themain street of Sanderson, made observations and got information likelyto serve me at some future day, and then I returned to the hotel readyfor what might happen. 

The stage-coach was there and already full of passengers. This stage didnot go to Linrock, but I had found that another one left for that pointthree days a week. 

Several cowboy broncos stood hitched to a railing and a little fartherdown were two buckboards, with horses that took my eye. These probablywere the teams Colonel Sampson had spoken of to George Wright. 

As I strolled up, both men came out of the hotel. Wright saw me, andmaking an almost imperceptible sign to Sampson, he walked toward me. 

"You're the cowboy Russ?" he asked. 

I nodded and looked him over. By day he made as striking a figure as Ihad noted by night, but the light was not generous to his dark face. 

"Here's your pay, " he said, handing me some bills. "Miss Sampson won'tneed you out at the ranch any more. "

"What do you mean? This is the first I've heard about that. "

"Sorry, kid. That's it, " he said abruptly. "She just gave me themoney--told me to pay you off. You needn't bother to speak with herabout it. "

He might as well have said, just as politely, that my seeing her, evento say good-by, was undesirable. 

As my luck would have it, the girls appeared at the moment, and I wentdirectly up to them, to be greeted in a manner I was glad George Wrightcould not help but see. 

In Miss Sampson's smile and "Good morning, Russ, " there was not theslightest discoverable sign that I was not to serve her indefinitely. 

It was as I had expected--she knew nothing of Wright's discharging me inher name. 

"Miss Sampson, " I said, in dismay, "what have I done? Why did you let mego?"

She looked astonished. 

"Russ, I don't understand you. "

"Why did you discharge me?" I went on, trying to look heart-broken. "Ihaven't had a chance yet. I wanted so much to work for you--Miss Sally, what have I done? Why did she discharge me?"

"I did not, " declared Miss Sampson, her dark eyes lighting. 

"But look here--here's my pay, " I went on, exhibiting the money. "Mr. Wright just came to me--said you sent this money--that you wouldn't needme out at the ranch. "

It was Miss Sally then who uttered a little exclamation. Miss Sampsonseemed scarcely to have believed what she had heard. 

"My cousin Mr. Wright said that?"

I nodded vehemently. 

At this juncture Wright strode before me, practically thrusting measide. 

"Come girls, let's walk a little before we start, " he said gaily. "I'llshow you Sanderson. "

"Wait, please, " Miss Sampson replied, looking directly at him. "CousinGeorge, I think there's a mistake--perhaps a misunderstanding. Here'sthe cowboy I've engaged--Mr. Russ. He declares you gave him money--toldhim I discharged him. "

"Yes, cousin, I did, " he replied, his voice rising a little. There wasa tinge of red in his cheek. "We--you don't need him out at the ranch. We've any numbers of boys. I just told him that--let him downeasy--didn't want to bother you. "

Certain it was that George Wright had made a poor reckoning. First sheshowed utter amaze, then distinct disappointment, and then she liftedher head with a kind of haughty grace. She would have addressed himthen, had not Colonel Sampson come up. 

"Papa, did you instruct Cousin George to discharge Russ?" she asked. 

"I sure didn't, " declared the colonel, with a laugh. "George took thatupon his own hands. "

"Indeed! I'd like my cousin to understand that I'm my own mistress. I'vebeen accustomed to attending to my own affairs and shall continue doingso. Russ, I'm sorry you've been treated this way. Please, in future, take your orders from me. "

"Then I'm to go to Linrock with you?" I asked. 

"Assuredly. Ride with Sally and me to-day, please. "

She turned away with Sally, and they walked toward the first buckboard. 

Colonel Sampson found a grim enjoyment in Wright's discomfiture. 

"Diane's like her mother was, George, " he said. "You've made a bad startwith her. "

Here Wright showed manifestation of the Sampson temper, and I took himto be a dangerous man, with unbridled passions. 

"Russ, here's my own talk to you, " he said, hard and dark, leaningtoward me. "Don't go to Linrock. "

"Say, Mr. Wright, " I blustered for all the world like a young andfrightened cowboy, "If you threaten me I'll have you put in jail!"

Both men seemed to have received a slight shock. Wright hardly knew whatto make of my boyish speech. "Are you going to Linrock?" he askedthickly. 

I eyed him with an entirely different glance from my other fearful one. 

"I should smile, " was my reply, as caustic as the most recklesscowboy's, and I saw him shake. 

Colonel Sampson laid a restraining hand upon Wright. Then they bothregarded me with undisguised interest. I sauntered away. 

"George, your temper'll do for you some day, " I heard the colonel say. "You'll get in bad with the wrong man some time. Hello, here are Joe andBrick!"

Mention of these fellows engaged my attention once more. 

I saw two cowboys, one evidently getting his name from his brick-redhair. They were the roistering type, hard drinkers, devil-may-carefellows, packing guns and wearing bold fronts--a kind that the Rangersalways called four-flushes. 

However, as the Rangers' standard of nerve was high, there was room leftfor cowboys like these to be dangerous to ordinary men. 

The little one was Joe, and directly Wright spoke to him he turned tolook at me, and his thin mouth slanted down as he looked. Brick eyed me, too, and I saw that he was heavy, not a hard-riding cowboy. 

Here right at the start were three enemies for me--Wright and hiscowboys. But it did not matter; under any circumstances there would havebeen friction between such men and me. 

I believed there might have been friction right then had not MissSampson called for me. 

"Get our baggage, Russ, " she said. 

I hurried to comply, and when I had fetched it out Wright and thecowboys had mounted their horses, Colonel Sampson was in the onebuckboard with two men I had not before observed, and the girls werein the other. 

The driver of this one was a tall, lanky, tow-headed youth, growing likea Texas weed. We had not any too much room in the buckboard, but thatfact was not going to spoil the ride for me. 

We followed the leaders through the main street, out into the open, on to a wide, hard-packed road, showing years of travel. It headednorthwest. 

To our left rose the range of low, bleak mountains I had notedyesterday, and to our right sloped the mesquite-patched sweep of ridgeand flat. 

The driver pushed his team to a fast trot, which gait surely coveredground rapidly. We were close behind Colonel Sampson, who, from hisvehement gestures, must have been engaged in very earnest colloquy withhis companions. 

The girls behind me, now that they were nearing the end of the journey, manifested less interest in the ride, and were speculating upon Linrock, and what it would be like. Occasionally I asked the driver a question, and sometimes the girls did likewise; but, to my disappointment, theride seemed not to be the same as that of yesterday. 

Every half mile or so we passed a ranch house, and as we traveled onthese ranches grew further apart, until, twelve or fifteen miles out ofSanderson, they were so widely separated that each appeared alone on thewild range. 

We came to a stream that ran north and I was surprised to see a goodlyvolume of water. It evidently flowed down from the mountain far to thewest. 

Tufts of grass were well scattered over the sandy ground, but it washigh and thick, and considering the immense area in sight, there wasgrazing for a million head of stock. 

We made three stops in the forenoon, one at a likely place to water thehorses, the second at a chuckwagon belonging to cowboys who were ridingafter stock, and the third at a small cluster of adobe and stone houses, constituting a hamlet the driver called Sampson, named after theColonel. From that point on to Linrock there were only a few ranches, each one controlling great acreage. 

Early in the afternoon from a ridgetop we sighted Linrock, a green pathin the mass of gray. For the barrens of Texas it was indeed a fairsight. 

But I was more concerned with its remoteness from civilization than itsbeauty. At that time in the early 'seventies, when the vast westernthird of Texas was a wilderness, the pioneer had done wonders to settlethere and establish places like Linrock. 

As we rolled swiftly along, the whole sweeping range was dotted withcattle, and farther on, within a few miles of town, there were drovesof horses that brought enthusiastic praise from Miss Sampson and hercousin. 

"Plenty of room here for the long rides, " I said, waving a hand at thegray-green expanse. "Your horses won't suffer on this range. "

She was delighted, and her cousin for once seemed speechless. 

"That's the ranch, " said the driver, pointing with his whip. 

It needed only a glance for me to see that Colonel Sampson's ranch wason a scale fitting the country. 

The house was situated on the only elevation around Linrock, and it wasnot high, nor more than a few minutes' walk from the edge of town. 

It was a low, flat-roofed structure, made of red adobe bricks andcovered what appeared to be fully an acre of ground. All was green aboutit except where the fenced corrals and numerous barns or sheds showedgray and red. 

Wright and the cowboys disappeared ahead of us in the cottonwood trees. Colonel Sampson got out of the buckboard and waited for us. His facewore the best expression I had seen upon it yet. There was warmth andlove, and something that approached sorrow or regret. 

His daughter was agitated, too. I got out and offered my seat, whichColonel Sampson took. 

It was scarcely a time for me to be required, or even noticed at all, and I took advantage of it and turned toward the town. 

Ten minutes of leisurely walking brought me to the shady outskirts ofLinrock and I entered the town with mingled feelings of curiosity, eagerness, and expectation. 

The street I walked down was not a main one. There were small, redhouses among oaks and cottonwoods. 

I went clear through to the other side, probably more than half a mile. I crossed a number of intersecting streets, met children, nice-lookingwomen, and more than one dusty-booted man. 

Half-way back this street I turned at right angles and walked up severalblocks till I came to a tree-bordered plaza. On the far side opened abroad street which for all its horses and people had a sleepy look. 

I walked on, alert, trying to take in everything, wondering if I wouldmeet Steele, wondering how I would know him if we did meet. But Ibelieved I could have picked that Ranger out of a thousand strangers, though I had never seen him. 

Presently the residences gave place to buildings fronting right upon thestone sidewalk. I passed a grain store, a hardware store, a grocerystore, then several unoccupied buildings and a vacant corner. 

The next block, aside from the rough fronts of the crude structures, would have done credit to a small town even in eastern Texas. Here wasevidence of business consistent with any prosperous community of twothousand inhabitants. 

The next block, on both sides of the street, was a solid row of saloons, resorts, hotels. Saddled horses stood hitched all along the sidewalk intwo long lines, with a buckboard and team here and there breaking thecontinuity. This block was busy and noisy. 

From all outside appearances, Linrock was no different from otherfrontier towns, and my expectations were scarcely realized. 

As the afternoon was waning I retraced my steps and returned to theranch. The driver boy, whom I had heard called Dick, was looking forme, evidently at Miss Sampson's order, and he led me up to the house. 

It was even bigger than I had conceived from a distance, and so old thatthe adobe bricks were worn smooth by rain and wind. I had a glimpse inat several doors as we passed by. 

There was comfort here that spoke eloquently of many a freighter's tripfrom Del Rio. For the sake of the young ladies, I was glad to see thingslittle short of luxurious for that part of the country. 

At the far end of the house Dick conducted me to a little room, verysatisfactory indeed to me. I asked about bunk-houses for the cowboys, and he said they were full to overflowing. 

"Colonel Sampson has a big outfit, eh?"

"Reckon he has, " replied Dick. "Don' know how many cowboys. They'realways comin' an' goin'. I ain't acquainted with half of them. "

"Much movement of stock these days?"

"Stock's always movin', " he replied with a queer look. 

"Rustlers?"

But he did not follow up that look with the affirmative I expected. 

"Lively place, I hear--Linrock is?"

"Ain't so lively as Sanderson, but it's bigger. "

"Yes, I heard it was. Fellow down there was talking about two cowboyswho were arrested. "

"Sure. I heerd all about thet. Joe Bean an' Brick Higgins--they belongheah, but they ain't heah much. "

I did not want Dick to think me overinquisitive, so I turned the talkinto other channels. It appeared that Miss Sampson had not left anyinstructions for me, so I was glad to go with Dick to supper, which wehad in the kitchen. 

Dick informed me that the cowboys prepared their own meals down at thebunks; and as I had been given a room at the ranch-house he supposed Iwould get my meals there, too. 

After supper I walked all over the grounds, had a look at the horses inthe corrals, and came to the conclusion that it would be strange if MissSampson did not love her new home, and if her cousin did not enjoy hersojourn there. From a distance I saw the girls approaching with Wright, and not wishing to meet them I sheered off. 

When the sun had set I went down to the town with the intention offinding Steele. 

This task, considering I dared not make inquiries and must approach himsecretly, might turn out to be anything but easy. 

While it was still light, I strolled up and down the main street. Whendarkness set in I went into a hotel, bought cigars, sat around andwatched, without any clue. 

Then I went into the next place. This was of a rough crude exterior, butthe inside was comparatively pretentious, and ablaze with lights. 

It was full of men, coming and going--a dusty-booted crowd that smelledof horses and smoke. 

I sat down for a while, with wide eyes and open ears. Then I hunted up asaloon, where most of the guests had been or were going. I found a greatsquare room lighted by six huge lamps, a bar at one side, and all thefloor space taken up by tables and chairs. 

This must have been the gambling resort mentioned in the Ranger's letterto Captain Neal and the one rumored to be owned by the mayor of Linrock. This was the only gambling place of any size in southern Texas in whichI had noted the absence of Mexicans. There was some card playing goingon at this moment. 

I stayed in there for a while, and knew that strangers were too commonin Linrock to be conspicuous. But I saw no man whom I could have takenfor Steele. 

Then I went out. 

It had often been a boast of mine that I could not spend an hour ina strange town, or walk a block along a dark street, without havingsomething happen out of the ordinary. 

Mine was an experiencing nature. Some people called this luck. But itwas my private opinion that things gravitated my way because I lookedand listened for them. 

However, upon the occasion of my first day and evening in Linrock itappeared, despite my vigilance and inquisitiveness, that here was to bean exception. 

This thought came to me just before I reached the last lighted place inthe block, a little dingy restaurant, out of which at the moment, atall, dark form passed. It disappeared in the gloom. I saw a man sittingon the low steps, and another standing in the door. 

"That was the fellow the whole town's talkin' about--the Ranger, " saidone man. 

Like a shot I halted in the shadow, where I had not been seen. 

"Sho! Ain't boardin' heah, is he?" said the other. 

"Yes. "

"Reckon he'll hurt your business, Jim. "

The fellow called Jim emitted a mirthless laugh. "Wal, he's been _all_my business these days. An' he's offered to rent that old 'dobe of minejust out of town. You know, where I lived before movin' in heah. He'sgoin' to look at it to-morrow. "

"Lord! does he expect to _stay_?"

"Say so. An' if he ain't a stayer I never seen none. Nice, quiet, easychap, but he just looks deep. "

"Aw, Jim, he can't hang out heah. He's after some feller, that's all. "

"I don't know his game. But he says he was heah for a while. An' heimpressed me some. Just now he says: 'Where does Sampson live?' I askedhim if he was goin' to make a call on our mayor, an' he says yes. Then Itold him how to go out to the ranch. He went out, headed that way. "

"The hell he did!"

I gathered from this fellow's exclamation that he was divided betweenamaze and mirth. Then he got up from the steps and went into therestaurant and was followed by the man called Jim. Before the doorwas closed he made another remark, but it was unintelligible to me. 

As I passed on I decided I would scrape acquaintance with thisrestaurant keeper. 

The thing of most moment was that I had gotten track of Steele. Ihurried ahead. While I had been listening back there moments had elapsedand evidently he had walked swiftly. 

I came to the plaza, crossed it, and then did not know which directionto take. Concluding that it did not matter I hurried on in an endeavorto reach the ranch before Steele. Although I was not sure, I believed Ihad succeeded. 

The moon shone brightly. I heard a banjo in the distance and a cowboysing. There was not a person in sight in the wide courts or on theporch. I did not have a well-defined idea about the inside of the house. 

Peeping in at the first lighted window I saw a large room. Miss Sampsonand Sally were there alone. Evidently this was a parlor or a sittingroom, and it had clean white walls, a blanketed floor, an open fireplacewith a cheery blazing log, and a large table upon which were lamp, books, papers. Backing away I saw that this corner room had a dooropening on the porch and two other windows. 

I listened, hoping to hear Steele's footsteps coming up the road. But Iheard only Sally's laugh and her cousin's mellow voice. 

Then I saw lighted windows down at the other end of the front part ofthe house. I walked down. A door stood open and through it I saw a roomidentical with that at the other corner; and here were Colonel Sampson, Wright, and several other men, all smoking and talking. 

It might have been interesting to tarry there within ear-shot, but Iwanted to get back to the road to intercept Steele. Scarcely had Iretraced my steps and seated myself on the porch steps when a very talldark figure loomed up in the moonlit road. 

Steele! I wanted to yell like a boy. He came on slowly, looking allaround, halted some twenty paces distant, surveyed the house, thenevidently espying me, came on again. 

My first feeling was, What a giant! But his face was hidden in theshadow of a sombrero. 

I had intended, of course, upon first sight to blurt out my identity. Yet I did not. He affected me strangely, or perhaps it was my emotion atthe thought that we Rangers, with so much in common and at stake, hadcome together. 

"Is Sampson at home?" he asked abruptly. 

I said, "Yes. "

"Ask him if he'll see Vaughn Steele, Ranger. "

"Wait here, " I replied. I did not want to take up any time thenexplaining my presence there. 

Deliberately and noisily I strode down the porch and entered the roomwith the smoking men. 

I went in farther than was necessary for me to state my errand. But Iwanted to see Sampson's face, to see into his eyes. 

As I entered, the talking ceased. I saw no face except his and thatseemed blank. 

"Vaughn Steele, Ranger--come to see you, sir. " I announced. 

Did Sampson start--did his eyes show a fleeting glint--did his facealmost imperceptibly blanch? I could not have sworn to either. But therewas a change, maybe from surprise. 

The first sure effect of my announcement came in a quick exclamationfrom Wright, a sibilant intake of breath, that did not seem to denotesurprise so much as certainty. Wright might have emitted a curse withless force. 

Sampson moved his hand significantly and the action was a voicelesscommand for silence as well as an assertion that he would attend to thismatter. I read him clearly so far. He had authority, and again I felthis power. 

"Steele to see me. Did he state his business?"

"No, sir. " I replied. 

"Russ, say I'm not at home, " said Sampson presently, bending over torelight his pipe. 

I went out. Someone slammed the door behind me. 

As I strode back across the porch my mind worked swiftly; the machineryhad been idle for a while and was now started. 

"Mr. Steele, " I said, "Colonel Sampson says he's not at home. Tell yourbusiness to his daughter. "

Without waiting to see the effect of my taking so much upon myself, Iknocked upon the parlor door. Miss Sampson opened it. She wore white. Looking at her, I thought it would be strange if Steele's well-knownindifference to women did not suffer an eclipse. 

"Miss Sampson, here is Vaughn Steele to see you, " I said. 

"Won't you come in?" she said graciously. 

Steele had to bend his head to enter the door. I went in with him, anintrusion, perhaps, that in the interest of the moment she appeared notto notice. 

Steele seemed to fill the room with his giant form. His face was fine, stern, clear cut, with blue or gray eyes, strangely penetrating. He wascoatless, vestless. He wore a gray flannel shirt, corduroys, a big gunswinging low, and top boots reaching to his knees. 

He was the most stalwart son of Texas I had seen in many a day, butneither his great stature nor his striking face accounted for somethingI felt--a something spiritual, vital, compelling, that drew me. 

"Mr. Steele, I'm pleased to meet you, " said Miss Sampson. "This is mycousin, Sally Langdon. We just arrived--I to make this my home, she tovisit me. "

Steele smiled as he bowed to Sally. He was easy, with a kind of rudegrace, and showed no sign of embarrassment or that beautiful girls wereunusual to him. 

"Mr. Steele, we've heard of you in Austin, " said Sally with her eyesmisbehaving. 

I hoped I would not have to be jealous of Steele. But this girl was alittle minx if not altogether a flirt. 

"I did not expect to be received by ladies, " replied Steele. "I calledupon Mr. Sampson. He would not see me. I was to tell my business to hisdaughter. I'm glad to know you, Miss Sampson and your cousin, but sorryyou've come to Linrock now. "

"Why?" queried both girls in unison. 

"Because it's--oh, pretty rough--no place for girls to walk and ride. "

"Ah! I see. And your business has to do with rough places, " said MissSampson. "Strange that papa would not see you. Stranger that he shouldwant me to hear your business. Either he's joking or wants to impressme. 

"Papa tried to persuade me not to come. He tried to frighten me withtales of this--this roughness out here. He knows I'm in earnest, how I'dlike to help somehow, do some little good. Pray tell me this business. "

"I wished to get your father's cooperation in my work. "

"Your work? You mean your Ranger duty--the arresting of roughcharacters?"

"That, yes. But that's only a detail. Linrock is bad internally. My jobis to make it good. "

"A splendid and worthy task, " replied Miss Sampson warmly. "I wish yousuccess. But, Mr. Steele, aren't you exaggerating Linrock's wickedness?"

"No, " he answered forcibly. 

"Indeed! And papa refused to see you--presumably refused to cooperatewith you?" she asked thoughtfully. 

"I take it that way. "

"Mr. Steele, pray tell me what is the matter with Linrock and justwhat the work is you're called upon to do?" she asked seriously. "Iheard papa say that he was the law in Linrock. Perhaps he resentsinterference. I know he'll not tolerate any opposition to his will. Please tell me. I may be able to influence him. "

I listened to Steele's deep voice as he talked about Linrock. What hesaid was old to me, and I gave heed only to its effect. 

Miss Sampson's expression, which at first had been earnest and grave, turned into one of incredulous amaze. She, and Sally too, watchedSteele's face in fascinated attention. 

When it came to telling what he wanted to do, the Ranger warmed to hissubject; he talked beautifully, convincingly, with a certain strange, persuasive power that betrayed how he worked his way; and his fine face, losing its stern, hard lines, seemed to glow and give forth a spiritaustere, yet noble, almost gentle, assuredly something vastly differentfrom what might have been expected in the expression of a gun-fightingRanger. I sensed that Miss Sampson felt this just as I did. 

"Papa said you were a hounder of outlaws--a man who'd rather kill thansave!" she exclaimed. 

The old stern cast returned to Steele's face. It was as if he hadsuddenly remembered himself. 

"My name is infamous, I am sorry to say, " he replied. 

"You have killed men?" she asked, her dark eyes dilating. 

Had any one ever dared ask Steele that before? His face became a mask. It told truth to me, but she could not see, and he did not answer. 

"Oh, you are above that. Don't--don't kill any one here!"

"Miss Sampson, I hope I won't. " His voice seemed to check her. I hadbeen right in my estimate of her character--young, untried, but allpride, fire, passion. She was white then, and certainly beautiful. 

Steele watched her, could scarcely have failed to see the white gleam ofher beauty, and all that evidence of a quick and noble heart. 

"Pardon me, please, Mr. Steele, " she said, recovering her composure. "Iam--just a little overexcited. I didn't mean to be inquisitive. Thankyou for your confidence. I've enjoyed your call, though your news diddistress me. You may rely upon me to talk to papa. "

That appeared to be a dismissal, and, bowing to her and Sally, theRanger went out. I followed, not having spoken. 

At the end of the porch I caught up with Steele and walked out into themoonlight beside him. 

Just why I did not now reveal my identity I could not say, for certainlyI was bursting with the desire to surprise him, to earn his approval. Heloomed dark above me, appearing not to be aware of my presence. What acold, strange proposition this Ranger was!

Still, remembering the earnestness of his talk to Miss Sampson, I couldnot think him cold. But I must have thought him so to any attraction ofthose charming girls. 

Suddenly, as we passed under the shade of cottonwoods, he clamped a bighand down on my shoulder. 

"My God, Russ, isn't she lovely!" he ejaculated. 

In spite of my being dumbfounded I had to hug him. He knew me!

"Thought you didn't swear!" I gasped. 

Ridiculously those were my first words to Vaughn Steele. 

"My boy, I saw you parading up and down the street looking for me, " hesaid. "I intended to help you find me to-morrow. "

We gripped hands, and that strong feel and clasp meant much. 

"Yes, she's lovely, Steele, " I said. "But did you look at the cousin, the little girl with the eyes?"

Then we laughed and loosed hands. 

"Come on, let's get out somewhere. I've a million things to tell you. "

We went away out into the open where some stones gleamed white in themoonlight, and there, sitting in the sand, our backs against a rest, andwith all quiet about us, we settled down for a long conference. 

I began with Neal's urgent message to me, then told of my going to thecapitol--what I had overheard when Governor Smith was in the adjutant'soffice; of my interview with them; of the spying on Colonel Sampson;Neal's directions, advice, and command; the ride toward San Antonio; mybeing engaged as cowboy by Miss Sampson; of the further ride on toSanderson and the incident there; and finally how I had approachedSampson and then had thought it well to get his daughter into the schemeof things. 

It was a long talk, even for me, and my voice sounded husky. 

"I told Neal I'd be lucky to get you, " said Steele, after a silence. 

That was the only comment on my actions, the only praise, but the quietway he spoke it made me feel like a boy undeserving of so much. 

"Here, I forgot the money Neal sent, " I went on, glad to be rid of thehuge roll of bills. 

The Ranger showed surprise. Besides, he was very glad. 

"The Captain loves the service, " said Steele. "He alone knows the worthof the Rangers. And the work he's given his life to--the _good_ that_service_ really does--all depends on you and me, Russ!"

I assented, gloomily enough. Then I waited while he pondered. 

The moon soared clear; there was a cool wind rustling the greasewood; adog bayed a barking coyote; lights twinkled down in the town. 

I looked back up at the dark hill and thought of Sally Langdon. Gettinghere to Linrock, meeting Steele had not changed my feelings toward her, only somehow they had removed me far off in thought, out of possibletouch, it seemed. 

"Well, son, listen, " began Steele. His calling me that was a joke, yet Idid not feel it. "You've made a better start than I could have figured. Neal said you were lucky. Perhaps. But you've got brains. 

"Now, here's your cue for the present. Work for Miss Sampson. Do yourbest for her as long as you last. I don't suppose you'll last long. Youhave got to get in with this gang in town. Be a flash cowboy. You don'tneed to get drunk, but you're to pretend it. 

"Gamble. Be a good fellow. Hang round the barrooms. I don't care how youplay the part, so long as you make friends, learn the ropes. We can meetout here at nights to talk and plan. 

"You're to take sides with those who're against me. I'll furnish youwith the money. You'd better appear to be a winning gambler, even ifyou're not. How's this plan strike you?"

"Great--except for one thing, " I replied. "I hate to lie to MissSampson. She's true blue, Steele. "

"Son, you haven't got soft on her?"

"Not a bit. Maybe I'm soft on the little cousin. But I just like MissSampson--think she's fine--could look up to her. And I hate to bedifferent from what she thinks. "

"I understand, Russ, " he replied in his deep voice that had such qualityto influence a man. "It's no decent job. You'll be ashamed before her. So would I. But here's our work, the hardest ever cut out for Rangers. Think what depends upon it. And--"

"There's something wrong with Miss Sampson's father, " I interrupted. 

"Something strange if not wrong. No man in this community is beyond us, Russ, or above suspicion. You've a great opportunity. I needn't say useyour eyes and ears as never before. "

"I hope Sampson turns out to be on the square, " I replied. "He might bea lax mayor, too good-natured to uphold law in a wild country. And hisSouthern pride would fire at interference. I don't like him, but for hisdaughter's sake I hope we're wrong. "

Steele's eyes, deep and gleaming in the moonlight, searched my face. 

"Son, sure you're not in love with her--you'll not fall in love withher?"

"No. I am positive. Why?"

"Because in either case I'd likely have need of a new man in yourplace, " he said. 

"Steele, you know something about Sampson--something more!" I exclaimedswiftly. 

"No more than you. When I meet him face to face I may know more. Russ, when a fellow has been years at this game he has a sixth sense. Mineseldom fails me. I never yet faced the criminal who didn't somehowbetray fear--not so much fear of me, but fear of himself--his life, hisdeeds. That's conscience, or if not, just realization of fate. "

Had that been the thing I imagined I had seen in Sampson's face?

"I'm sorry Diane Sampson came out here, " I said impulsively. 

Steele did not say he shared that feeling. He was looking out upon themoon-blanched level. 

Some subtle thing in his face made me divine that he was thinking of thebeautiful girl to whom he might bring disgrace and unhappiness. 

Chapter 2

A KISS AND AN ARREST

A month had passed, a swift-flying time full of new life. Wonderful itwas for me to think I was still in Diane Sampson's employ. 

It was the early morning hour of a day in May. The sun had not yet grownhot. Dew like diamond drops sparkled on the leaves and grass. The gentlebreeze was clear, sweet, with the song of larks upon it. 

And the range, a sea of gray-green growing greener, swept away westwardin rolling ridges and hollows, like waves to meet the dark, low hillsthat notched the horizon line of blue. 

I was sitting on the top bar of the corral fence and before me stoodthree saddled horses that would have gladdened any eye. I was waitingto take the young ladies on their usual morning ride. 

Once upon a time, in what seemed the distant past to this eventfulmonth, I had flattered myself there had been occasions for thought, butscornfully I soliloquized that in those days I had no cue for thoughtsuch as I had now. 

This was one of the moments when my real self seemed to stand off andskeptically regard the fictitious cowboy. 

This gentleman of the range wore a huge sombrero with an ornamentedsilver band, a silken scarf of red, a black velvet shirt, much affectedby the Indians, an embroidered buckskin vest, corduroys, and fringedchaps with silver buttons, a big blue gun swinging low, high heeledboots, and long spurs with silver rowels. 

A flash cowboy! Steele vowed I was a born actor. 

But I never divulged the fact that had it not been for my infatuationfor Sally, I never could have carried on that part, not to save theRanger service, or the whole State of Texas. 

The hardest part had not been the establishing of a reputation. Thescorn of cowboys, the ridicule of gamblers, the badinage of the youngbucks of the settlement--these I had soon made dangerous procedures forany one. I was quick with tongue and fist and gun. 

There had been fights and respect was quickly earned, though theconstant advent of strangers in Linrock always had me in hot water. 

Moreover, instead of being difficult, it was fun to spend all the timeI could in the hotels and resorts, shamming a weakness for drink, gambling, lounging, making friends among the rough set, when all thetime I was a cool, keen registering machine. 

The hard thing was the lie I lived in the eyes of Diane Sampson andSally Langdon. 

I had indeed won the sincere regard of my employer. Her father, hercousin George, and new-made friends in town had come to her with talesof my reckless doings, and had urged my dismissal. 

But she kept me and all the time pleaded like a sister to have me mendmy vicious ways. She believed what she was told about me, but had faithin me despite that. 

As for Sally, I had fallen hopelessly in love with her. By turns Sallywas indifferent to me, cold, friendly like a comrade, and dangerouslysweet. 

Somehow she saw through me, knew I was not just what I pretended to be. But she never breathed her conviction. She championed me. I wanted totell her the truth about myself because I believed the doubt of me alonestood in the way of my winning her. 

Still that might have been my vanity. She had never said she cared forme although she had looked it. 

This tangle of my personal life, however, had not in the least affectedmy loyalty and duty to Vaughn Steele. Day by day I had grown moreattached to him, keener in the interest of our work. 

It had been a busy month--a month of foundation building. My vigilanceand my stealthy efforts had not been rewarded by anything calculated tostrengthen our suspicions of Sampson. But then he had been absent fromthe home very often, and was difficult to watch when he was there. 

George Wright came and went, too, presumably upon stock business. Icould not yet see that he was anything but an honest rancher, deeplyinvolved with Sampson and other men in stock deals; nevertheless, as aman he had earned my contempt. 

He was a hard drinker, cruel to horses, a gambler not above stacking thecards, a quick-tempered, passionate Southerner. 

He had fallen in love with Diane Sampson, was like her shadow when athome. He hated me; he treated me as if I were the scum of the earth; ifhe had to address me for something, which was seldom, he did it harshly, like ordering a dog. Whenever I saw his sinister, handsome face, withits dark eyes always half shut, my hand itched for my gun, and I wouldgo my way with something thick and hot inside my breast. 

In my talks with Steele we spent time studying George Wright's characterand actions. He was Sampson's partner, and at the head of a small groupof Linrock ranchers who were rich in cattle and property, if not inmoney. 

Steele and I had seen fit to wait before we made any thoroughinvestigation into their business methods. Ours was a waiting game, anyway. 

Right at the start Linrock had apparently arisen in resentment at thepresence of Vaughn Steele. But it was my opinion that there were men inLinrock secretly glad of the Ranger's presence. 

What he intended to do was food for great speculation. His fame, ofcourse, had preceded him. A company of militia could not have had theeffect upon the wild element of Linrock that Steele's presence had. 

A thousand stories went from lip to lip, most of which were false. Hewas lightning swift on the draw. It was death to face him. He had killedthirty men--wildest rumor of all. 

He had the gun skill of Buck Duane, the craft of Cheseldine, thedeviltry of King Fisher, the most notorious of Texas desperadoes. Hisnerve, his lack of fear--those made him stand out alone even among ahorde of bold men. 

At first there had not only been great conjecture among the viciouselement, with which I had begun to affiliate myself, but also a verydecided checking of all kinds of action calculated to be conspicuous toa keen eyed Ranger. 

Steele did not hide, but during these opening days of his stay inLinrock he was not often seen in town. At the tables, at the bars andlounging places remarks went the rounds:

"Who's thet Ranger after? What'll he do fust off? Is he waitin' fersomebody? Who's goin' to draw on him fust--an' go to hell? Jest abouthow soon will he be found somewhere full of lead?"

Those whom it was my interest to cultivate grew more curious, morespeculative and impatient as time went by. When it leaked out somewherethat Steele was openly cultivating the honest stay-at-home citizens, toarray them in time against the other element, then Linrock showed itswolf teeth hinted of in the letters to Captain Neal. 

Several times Steele was shot at in the dark and once slightly injured. Rumor had it that Jack Blome, the gunman of those parts, was coming into meet Steele. Part of Linrock awakened and another part, much smaller, became quieter, more secluded. 

Strangers upon whom we could get no line mysteriously came and went. Thedrinking, gambling, fighting in the resorts seemed to gather renewedlife. Abundance of money floated in circulation. 

And rumors, vague and unfounded, crept in from Sanderson and otherpoints, rumors of a gang of rustlers off here, a hold-up of the stageoff here, robbery of a rancher at this distant point, and murder done atanother. 

This was Texas and New Mexico life in these frontier days but, strangelyneither Steele nor I had yet been able to associate any rumor or actwith a possible gang of rustlers in Linrock. 

Nevertheless we had not been discouraged. After three weeks of waitingwe had become alive to activity around us, and though it was unseen, webelieved we would soon be on its track. 

My task was the busier and the easier. Steele had to have a care for hislife. I never failed to caution him of this. 

My long reflection on the month's happenings and possibilities wasbrought to an end by the disappearance of Miss Sampson and Sally. 

My employer looked worried. Sally was in a regular cowgirl ridingcostume, in which her trim, shapely figure showed at its best, and herface was saucy, sparkling, daring. 

"Good morning, Russ, " said Miss Sampson and she gazed searchingly at me. I had dropped off the fence, sombrero in hand. I knew I was in for alecture, and I put on a brazen, innocent air. 

"Did you break your promise to me?" she asked reproachfully. 

"Which one?" I asked. It was Sally's bright eyes upon me, rather thanMiss Sampson's reproach, that bothered me. 

"About getting drunk again, " she said. 

"I didn't break _that_ one. "

"My cousin George saw you in the Hope So gambling place last night, drunk, staggering, mixing with that riffraff, on the verge of a brawl. "

"Miss Sampson, with all due respect to Mr. Wright, I want to say that hehas a strange wish to lower me in the eyes of you ladies, " I protestedwith a fine show of spirit. 

"Russ, _were_ you drunk?" she demanded. 

"No. I should think you needn't ask me that. Didn't you ever see a manthe morning after a carouse?"

Evidently she had. And there I knew I stood, fresh, clean-shaven, clear-eyed as the morning. 

Sally's saucy face grew thoughtful, too. The only thing she had everasked of me was not to drink. The habit had gone hard with the Sampsonfamily. 

"Russ, you look just as--as nice as I'd want you to, " Miss Sampsonreplied. "I don't know what to think. They tell me things. You deny. Whom shall I believe? George swore he saw you. "

"Miss Sampson, did I ever lie to you?"

"Not to my knowledge. "

Then I looked at her, and she understood what I meant. 

"George has lied to me. That day at Sanderson. And since, too, I fear. Do you say he lies?"

"Miss Sampson, I would not call your cousin a liar. "

Here Sally edged closer, with the bridle rein of her horse over her arm. 

"Russ, cousin George isn't the only one who saw you. Burt Waters told methe same, " said Sally nervously. I believed she hoped I was telling thetruth. 

"Waters! So he runs me down behind my back. All right, I won't say aword about him. But do you believe I was drunk when I say no?"

"I'm afraid I do, Russ, " she replied in reluctance. Was she testing me?

"See here, Miss Sampson, " I burst out. "Why don't you discharge me?Please let me go. I'm not claiming much for myself, but you don'tbelieve even that. I'm pretty bad. I never denied the scraps, thegambling--all that. But I did do as Miss Sally asked me--I did keep mypromise to you. Now, discharge me. Then I'll be free to call on Mr. BurtWaters. "

Miss Sampson looked alarmed and Sally turned pale, to my extreme joy. 

Those girls believed I was a desperate devil of a cowboy, who had beenheld back from spilling blood solely through their kind relation to me. 

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Sally. "Diane, don't let him go!"

"Russ, pray don't get angry, " replied Miss Sampson and she put a softhand on me that thrilled me, while it made me feel like a villain. "Iwon't discharge you. I need you. Sally needs you. After all, it's noneof my business what you do away from here. But I hoped I would be sohappy to--to reclaim you from--Didn't you ever have a sister, Russ?"

I kept silent for fear that I would perjure myself anew. Yet thesituation was delicious, and suddenly I conceived a wild idea. 

"Miss Sampson, " I began haltingly, but with brave front, "I've been wildin the past. But I've been tolerably straight here, trying to pleaseyou. Lately I have been going to the bad again. Not drunk, but leaningthat way. Lord knows what I'll do soon if--if my trouble isn't cured. "

"Russ! What trouble?"

"You know what's the matter with me, " I went on hurriedly. "Anybodycould see that. "

Sally turned a flaming scarlet. Miss Sampson made it easier for me byreason of her quick glance of divination. 

"I've fallen in love with Miss Sally. I'm crazy about her. Here I've gotto see these fellows flirting with her. And it's killing me. I've--"

"If you are crazy about me, you don't have to tell!" cried Sally, redand white by turns. 

"I want to stop your flirting one way or another. I've been in earnest. I wasn't flirting. I begged you to--to. .. "

"You never did, " interrupted Sally furiously. That hint had been aspark. 

"I couldn't have dreamed it, " I protested, in a passion to be earnest, yet tingling with the fun of it. "That day when I--didn't I ask. .. "

"If my memory serves me correctly, you didn't ask anything, " shereplied, with anger and scorn now struggling with mirth. 

"But, Sally, I meant to. You understood me? Say you didn't believe Icould take that liberty without honorable intentions. "

That was too much for Sally. She jumped at her horse, made the quickestkind of a mount, and was off like a flash. 

"Stop me if you can, " she called back over her shoulder, her face alightand saucy. 

"Russ, go after her, " said Miss Sampson. "In that mood she'll ride toSanderson. My dear fellow, don't stare so. I understand many things now. Sally is a flirt. She would drive any man mad. Russ, I've grown in ashort time to like you. If you'll be a man--give up drinking andgambling--maybe you'll have a chance with her. Hurry now--go after her. "

I mounted and spurred my horse after Sally's. She was down on the levelnow, out in the open, and giving her mount his head. Even had I wantedto overhaul her at once the matter would have been difficult, well nighimpossible under five miles. 

Sally had as fast a horse as there was on the range; she made no weightin the saddle, and she could ride. From time to time she looked backover her shoulder. 

I gained enough to make her think I was trying to catch her. Sally loveda horse; she loved a race; she loved to win. 

My good fortune had given me more than one ride alone with Sally. MissSampson enjoyed riding, too; but she was not a madcap, and when sheaccompanied us there was never any race. 

When Sally got out alone with me she made me ride to keep her fromdisappearing somewhere on the horizon. This morning I wanted her toenjoy to the fullest her utter freedom and to feel that for once I couldnot catch her. 

Perhaps my declaration to Miss Sampson had liberated my strongestemotions. 

However that might be, the fact was that no ride before had ever beenlike this one--no sky so blue, no scene so open, free, and enchanting asthat beautiful gray-green range, no wind so sweet. The breeze thatrushed at me might have been laden with the perfume of Sally Langdon'shair. 

I sailed along on what seemed a strange ride. Grazing horses pranced andwhistled as I went by; jack-rabbits bounded away to hide in the longerclumps of grass; a prowling wolf trotted from his covert near a herd ofcattle. 

Far to the west rose the low, dark lines of bleak mountains. They werealways mysterious to me, as if holding a secret I needed to know. 

It was a strange ride because in the back of my head worked a hauntingconsciousness of the deadly nature of my business there on the frontier, a business in such contrast with this dreaming and dallying, thislonging for what surely was futile. 

Any moment I might be stripped of my disguise. Any moment I might haveto be the Ranger. 

Sally kept the lead across the wide plain, and mounted to the top of aridge, where tired out, and satisfied with her victory, she awaited me. I was in no hurry to reach the summit of the long, slow-sloping ridge, and I let my horse walk. 

Just how would Sally Langdon meet me now, after my regretted exhibitionbefore her cousin? There was no use to conjecture, but I was nothopeful. 

When I got there to find her in her sweetest mood, with some littledifference never before noted--a touch of shyness--I concealed mysurprise. 

"Russ, I gave you a run that time, " she said. "Ten miles and you nevercaught me!"

"But look at the start you had. I've had my troubles beating you with aneven break. "

Sally was susceptible to flattery in regard to her riding, a fact thatI made subtle use of. 

"But in a long race I was afraid you'd beat me. Russ, I've learned toride out here. Back home I never had room to ride a horse. Just look. Miles and miles of level, of green. Little hills with black bunches oftrees. Not a soul in sight. Even the town hidden in the green. All wildand lonely. Isn't it glorious, Russ?"

"Lately it's been getting to me, " I replied soberly. 

We both gazed out over the sea of gray-green, at the undulating wavesof ground in the distance. On these rides with her I had learned toappreciate the beauty of the lonely reaches of plain. 

But when I could look at her I seldom wasted time on scenery. Looking ather now I tried to get again that impression of a difference in her. Iteluded me. 

Just now with the rose in her brown cheeks, her hair flying, her eyeswith grave instead of mocking light, she seemed only prettier thanusual. I got down ostensibly to tighten the saddle girths on her horse. But I lingered over the task. 

Presently, when she looked down at me, I received that subtle impressionof change, and read it as her soft mood of dangerous sweetness that cameso seldom, mingled with something deeper, more of character andwomanliness than I had ever sensed in her. 

"Russ, it wasn't nice to tell Diane that, " she said. 

"Nice! It was--oh, I'd like to swear!" I ejaculated. "But now Iunderstand my miserable feeling. I was jealous, Sally, I'm sorry. Iapologize. "

She had drawn off her gloves, and one little hand, brown, shapely, rested upon her knee very near to me. I took it in mine. She let itstay, though she looked away from me, the color rich in her cheeks. 

"I can forgive that, " she murmured. "But the lie. Jealousy doesn'texcuse a lie. "

"You mean--what I intimated to your cousin, " I said, trying to make herlook at me. "That was the devil in me. Only it's true. "

"How can it be true when you never asked--said a word--you hinted of?"she queried. "Diane believed what you said. I know she thinks mehorrid. "

"No she doesn't. As for what I said, or meant to say, which is the samething, how'd you take my actions? I hope not the same as you takeWright's or the other fellow's. "

Sally was silent, a little pale now, and I saw that I did not need tosay any more about the other fellows. The change, the difference was nowmarked. It drove me to give in wholly to this earnest and passionateside of myself. 

"Sally, I do love you. I don't know how you took my actions. Anyway, nowI'll make them plain. I was beside myself with love and jealousy. Willyou marry me?"

She did not answer. But the old willful Sally was not in evidence. Watching her face I gave her a slow and gentle pull, one she couldeasily resist if she cared to, and she slipped from her saddle into myarms. 

Then there was one wildly sweet moment in which I had the blissfulcertainty that she kissed me of her own accord. She was abashed, yetyielding; she let herself go, yet seemed not utterly unstrung. PerhapsI was rough, held her too hard, for she cried out a little. 

"Russ! Let me go. Help me--back. "

I righted her in the saddle, although not entirely releasing her. 

"But, Sally, you haven't told me anything, " I remonstrated tenderly. "Doyou love me?"

"I think so, " she whispered. 

"Sally, will you marry me?"

She disengaged herself then, sat erect and faced away from me, with herbreast heaving. 

"No, Russ, " she presently said, once more calm. 

"But Sally--if you love me--" I burst out, and then stopped, stilled bysomething in her face. 

"I can't help--loving you, Russ, " she said. "But to promise to marryyou, that's different. Why, Russ, I know nothing about you, not evenyour last name. You're not a--a steady fellow. You drink, gamble, fight. You'll kill somebody yet. Then I'll _not_ love you. Besides, I've alwaysfelt you're not just what you seemed. I can't trust you. There'ssomething wrong about you. "

I knew my face darkened, and perhaps hope and happiness died in it. Swiftly she placed a kind hand on my shoulder. 

"Now, I've hurt you. Oh, I'm sorry. Your asking me makes such adifference. _They_ are not in earnest. But, Russ, I had to tell youwhy I couldn't be engaged to you. "

"I'm not good enough for you. I'd no right to ask you to marry me, " Ireplied abjectly. 

"Russ, don't think me proud, " she faltered. "I wouldn't care who youwere if I could only--only respect you. Some things about you aresplendid, you're such a man, that's why I cared. But you gamble. Youdrink--and I _hate_ that. You're dangerous they say, and I'd be, I _am_in constant dread you'll kill somebody. Remember, Russ, I'm no Texan. "

This regret of Sally's, this faltering distress at giving me pain, wassuch sweet assurance that she did love me, better than she knew, that Iwas divided between extremes of emotion. 

"Will you wait? Will you trust me a little? Will you give me a chance?After all, maybe I'm not so bad as I seem. "

"Oh, if you weren't! Russ, are you asking me to trust you?"

"I beg you to--dearest. Trust me and wait. "

"Wait? What for? Are you really on the square, Russ? Or are you whatGeorge calls you--a drunken cowboy, a gambler, sharp with the cards, agun-fighter?"

My face grew cold as I felt the blood leave it. At that moment mentionof George Wright fixed once for all my hate of him. 

Bitter indeed was it that I dared not give him the lie. But what couldI do? The character Wright gave me was scarcely worse than what I hadchosen to represent. I had to acknowledge the justice of his claim, butnevertheless I hated him. 

"Sally, I ask you to trust me in spite of my reputation. "

"You ask me a great deal, " she replied. 

"Yes, it's too much. Let it be then only this--you'll wait. And whileyou wait, promise not to flirt with Wright and Waters. "

"Russ, I'll not let George or any of them so much as dare touch me, " shedeclared in girlish earnestness, her voice rising. "I'll promise ifyou'll promise me not to go into those saloons any more. "

One word would have brought her into my arms for good and all. Thebetter side of Sally Langdon showed then in her appeal. That appeal wasas strong as the drawing power of her little face, all eloquent with itslight, and eyes dark with tears, and lips wanting to smile. 

My response should have been instant. How I yearned to give it and winthe reward I imagined I saw on her tremulous lips! But I was bound. Thegrim, dark nature of my enterprise there in Linrock returned to stultifymy eagerness, dispel my illusion, shatter my dream. 

For one instant it flashed through my mind to tell Sally who I was, whatmy errand was, after the truth. But the secret was not mine to tell. AndI kept my pledges. 

The hopeful glow left Sally's face. Her disappointment seemed keen. Thena little scorn of certainty was the bitterest of all for me to bear. 

"That's too much to promise all at once, " I protested lamely, and I knewI would have done better to keep silence. 

"Russ, a promise like that is nothing--if a man loves a girl, " sheretorted. "Don't make any more love to me, please, unless you want me tolaugh at you. And don't feel such terrible trouble if you happen to seeme flirting occasionally. "

She ended with a little mocking laugh. That was the perverse side ofher, the cat using her claws. I tried not to be angry, but failed. 

"All right. I'll take my medicine, " I replied bitterly. "I'll certainlynever make love to you again. And I'll stand it if I happen to seeWaters kiss you, or any other decent fellow. But look out how you letthat damned backbiter Wright fool around you!"

I spoke to her as I had never spoken before, in quick, fierce meaning, with eyes holding hers. 

She paled. But even my scarce-veiled hint did not chill her anger. Tossing her head she wheeled and rode away. 

I followed at a little distance, and thus we traveled the ten miles backto the ranch. When we reached the corrals she dismounted and, turningher horse over to Dick, she went off toward the house without so much asa nod or good-by to me. 

I went down to town for once in a mood to live up to what had beenheretofore only a sham character. 

But turning a corner into the main street I instantly forgot myself atthe sight of a crowd congregated before the town hall. There was a babelof voices and an air of excitement that I immediately associated withSampson, who as mayor of Linrock, once in a month of moons held court inthis hall. 

It took slipping and elbowing to get through the crowd. Once inside thedoor I saw that the crowd was mostly outside, and evidently not sodesirous as I was to enter. 

The first man I saw was Steele looming up; the next was Sampson chewinghis mustache--the third, Wright, whose dark and sinister face told much. Something was up in Linrock. Steele had opened the hall. 

There were other men in the hall, a dozen or more, and all seemedshouting excitedly in unison with the crowd outside. I did not try tohear what was said. I edged closer in, among the men to the front. 

Sampson sat at a table up on a platform. Near him sat a thick-setgrizzled man, with deep eyes; and this was Hanford Owens, county judge. 

To the right stood a tall, angular, yellow-faced fellow with a drooping, sandy mustache. Conspicuous on his vest was a huge silver shield. Thiswas Gorsech, one of Sampson's sheriffs. 

There were four other men whom I knew, several whose faces werefamiliar, and half a dozen strangers, all dusty horsemen. 

Steele stood apart from them, a little to one side, so that he facedthem all. His hair was disheveled, and his shirt open at the neck. Helooked cool and hard. 

When I caught his eye I realized in an instant that the long deferredaction, the beginning of our real fight was at hand. 

Sampson pounded hard on the table to be heard. Mayor or not, he wasunable at once to quell the excitement. 

Gradually, however, it subsided and from the last few utterances beforequiet was restored I gathered that Steele had intruded upon some kind ofa meeting in the hall. 

"Steele, what'd you break in here for?" demanded Sampson. 

"Isn't this court? Aren't you the mayor of Linrock?" interrogatedSteele. His voice was so clear and loud, almost piercing, that I saw atonce that he wanted all those outside to hear. 

"Yes, " replied Sampson. Like flint he seemed, yet I felt his intenseinterest. 

I had no doubt then that Steele intended to make him stand out beforethis crowd as the real mayor of Linrock or as a man whose office was asham. 

"I've arrested a criminal, " said Steele. "Bud Snell. I charge him withassault on Jim Hoden and attempted robbery--if not murder. Snell had ashady past here, as the court will know if it keeps a record. "

Then I saw Snell hunching down on a bench, a nerveless and shaken manif there ever was one. He had been a hanger-on round the gambling dens, the kind of sneak I never turned my back to. 

Jim Hoden, the restaurant keeper, was present also, and on second glanceI saw that he was pale. There was blood on his face. I knew Jim, likedhim, had tried to make a friend of him. 

I was not dead to the stinging interrogation in the concluding sentenceof Steele's speech. Then I felt sure I had correctly judged Steele'smotive. I began to warm to the situation. 

"What's this I hear about you, Bud? Get up and speak for yourself, " saidSampson, gruffly. 

Snell got up, not without a furtive glance at Steele, and he hadshuffled forward a few steps toward the mayor. He had an evil front, but not the boldness even of a rustler. 

"It ain't so, Sampson, " he began loudly. "I went in Hoden's place fergrub. Some feller I never seen before come in from the hall an' hit himan' wrastled him on the floor. Then this big Ranger grabbed me an'fetched me here. I didn't do nothin'. This Ranger's hankerin' to arrestsomebody. Thet's my hunch, Sampson. "

"What have you to say about this, Hoden?" sharply queried Sampson. "Icall to your mind the fact that you once testified falsely in court, andgot punished for it. "

Why did my sharpened and experienced wits interpret a hint of threat ormenace in Sampson's reminder? Hoden rose from the bench and with anunsteady hand reached down to support himself. 

He was no longer young, and he seemed broken in health and spirit. Hehad been hurt somewhat about the head. 

"I haven't much to say, " he replied. "The Ranger dragged me here. I toldhim I didn't take my troubles to court. Besides, I can't swear it wasSnell who hit me. "

Sampson said something in an undertone to Judge Owens, and that worthynodded his great, bushy head. 

"Bud, you're discharged, " said Sampson bluntly. "Now, the rest of youclear out of here. "

He absolutely ignored the Ranger. That was his rebuff to Steele'sadvances, his slap in the face to an interfering Ranger Service. 

If Sampson was crooked he certainly had magnificent nerve. I almostdecided he was above suspicion. But his nonchalance, his air offinality, his authoritative assurance--these to my keen and practicedeyes were in significant contrast to a certain tenseness of line abouthis mouth and a slow paling of his olive skin. 

He had crossed the path of Vaughn Steele; he had blocked the way of thisTexas Ranger. If he had intelligence and remembered Steele's fame, whichsurely he had, then he had some appreciation of what he had undertaken. 

In that momentary lull my scrutiny of Sampson gathered an impression ofthe man's intense curiosity. 

Then Bud Snell, with a cough that broke the silence, shuffled a coupleof steps toward the door. 

"Hold on!" called Steele. 

It was a bugle-call. It halted Snell as if it had been a bullet. Heseemed to shrink. 

"Sampson, I _saw_ Snell attack Hoden, " said Steele, his voice stillringing. "What has the court to say to that?"

The moment for open rupture between Ranger Service and Sampson's idea oflaw was at hand. Sampson showed not the slightest hesitation. 

"The court has to say this: West of the Pecos we'll not aid or abet oraccept any Ranger Service. Steele, we don't want you out here. Linrockdoesn't need you. "

"That's a lie, Sampson, " retorted Steele. "I've a pocket full of lettersfrom Linrock citizens, all begging for Ranger Service. "

Sampson turned white. The veins corded at his temples. He appeared aboutto burst into rage. He was at a loss for a quick reply. 

Steele shook a long arm at the mayor. 

"I need your help. You refuse. Now, I'll work alone. This man Snellgoes to Del Rio in irons. "

George Wright rushed up to the table. The blood showed black and thickin his face; his utterance was incoherent, his uncontrollable outbreakof temper seemed out of all proportion to any cause he should reasonablyhave had for anger. 

Sampson shoved him back with a curse and warning glare. 

"Where's your warrant to arrest Snell?" shouted Sampson. "I won't giveyou one. You can't take him without a warrant. "

"I don't need warrants to make arrests. Sampson, you're ignorant of thepower of Texas Rangers. "

"You'll take Snell without papers?" bellowed Sampson. 

"He goes to Del Rio to jail, " answered Steele. 

"He won't. You'll pull none of your damned Ranger stunts out here. I'llblock you, Steele. "

That passionate reply of Sampson's appeared to be the signal Steele hadbeen waiting for. 

He had helped on the crisis. I believed I saw how he wanted to forceSampson's hand and show the town his stand. 

Steele backed clear of everybody and like two swift flashes of light hisguns leaped forth. He was transformed. My wish was fulfilled. 

Here was Steele, the Ranger, in one of his lone lion stands. Not exactlyalone either, for my hands itched for my guns!

"Men! I call on you all!" cried Steele, piercingly. "I call on you towitness the arrest of a criminal opposed by Sampson, mayor of Linrock. It will be recorded in the report sent to the Adjutant General atAustin. Sampson, I warn you--don't follow up your threat. "

Sampson sat white with working jaw. 

"Snell, come here, " ordered Steele. 

The man went as if drawn and appeared to slink out of line with theguns. Steele's cold gray glance held every eye in the hall. 

"Take the handcuffs out of my pocket. This side. Go over to Gorsech withthem. Gorsech, snap those irons on Snell's wrists. Now, Snell, back hereto the right of me. "

It was no wonder to me to see how instantly Steele was obeyed. He mighthave seen more danger in that moment than was manifest to me; on theother hand he might have wanted to drive home hard what he meant. 

It was a critical moment for those who opposed him. There was death inthe balance. 

This Ranger, whose last resort was gun-play, had instantly taken theinitiative, and his nerve chilled even me. Perhaps though, he read thiscrowd differently from me and saw that intimidation was his cue. Iforgot I was not a spectator, but an ally. 

"Sampson, you've shown your hand, " said Steele, in the deep voice thatcarried so far and held those who heard. "Any honest citizen of Linrockcan now see what's plain--yours is a damn poor hand!

"You're going to hear me call a spade a spade. Your office is a farce. In the two years you've been mayor you've never arrested one rustler. Strange, when Linrock's a nest for rustlers! You've never sent aprisoner to Del Rio, let alone to Austin. You have no jail. 

"There have been nine murders since you took office, innumerable streetfights and hold-ups. _Not one arrest!_ But you have ordered arrests fortrivial offenses, and have punished these out of all proportion. 

"There have been law-suits in your court--suits over water rights, cattle deals, property lines. Strange how in these law-suits, you orWright or other men close to you were always involved! Stranger how itseems the law was stretched to favor your interests!"

Steele paused in his cold, ringing speech. In the silence, both outsideand inside the hall, could be heard the deep breathing of agitated men. 

I would have liked to search for possible satisfaction on the faces ofany present, but I was concerned only with Sampson. I did not need tofear that any man might draw on Steele. 

Never had I seen a crowd so sold, so stiff, so held! Sampson was indeeda study. Yet did he betray anything but rage at this interloper?

"Sampson, here's plain talk for you and Linrock to digest, " wenton Steele. "I don't accuse you and your court of dishonesty. Isay--_strange_! Law here has been a farce. The motive behind allthis laxity isn't plain to me--yet. But I call your hand!"

Chapter 3

SOUNDING THE TIMBER

When Steele left the hall, pushing Snell before him, making a lanethrough the crowd, it was not any longer possible to watch everybody. 

Yet now he seemed to ignore the men behind him. Any friend of Snell'samong the vicious element might have pulled a gun. I wondered if Steeleknew how I watched those men at his back--how fatal it would have beenfor any of them to make a significant move. 

No--I decided that Steele trusted to the effect his boldness hadcreated. It was this power to cow ordinary men that explained so many ofhis feats; just the same it was his keenness to read desperate men, hisnerve to confront them, that made him great. 

The crowd followed Steele and his captive down the middle of the mainstreet and watched him secure a team and buckboard and drive off on theroad to Sanderson. 

Only then did that crowd appear to realize what had happened. Then mylong-looked-for opportunity arrived. In the expression of silent menI found something which I had sought; from the hurried departure ofothers homeward I gathered import; on the husky, whispering lips of yetothers I read words I needed to hear. 

The other part of that crowd--to my surprise, the smaller part--was theroaring, threatening, complaining one. 

Thus I segregated Linrock that was lawless from Linrock that wanted law, but for some reason not yet clear the latter did not dare to voice theirchoice. 

How could Steele and I win them openly to our cause? If that could bedone long before the year was up Linrock would be free of violence andCaptain Neal's Ranger Service saved to the State. 

I went from place to place, corner to corner, bar to bar, watching, listening, recording; and not until long after sunset did I go out tothe ranch. 

The excitement had preceded me and speculation was rife. Hurryingthrough my supper, to get away from questions and to go on with myspying, I went out to the front of the house. 

The evening was warm; the doors were open; and in the twilight the onlylamps that had been lit were in Sampson's big sitting room at the farend of the house. Neither Sampson nor Wright had come home to supper. 

I would have given much to hear their talk right then, and certainlyintended to try to hear it when they did come home. 

When the buckboard drove up and they alighted I was well hidden in thebushes, so well screened that I could get but a fleeting glimpse ofSampson as he went in. 

For all I could see, he appeared to be a calm and quiet man, intensebeneath the surface, with an air of dignity under insult. My chance toobserve Wright was lost. 

They went into the house without speaking, and closed the door. 

At the other end of the porch, close under a window, was an offsetbetween step and wall, and there in the shadow I hid. If Sampson orWright visited the girls that evening I wanted to hear what was saidabout Steele. 

It seemed to me that it might be a good clue for me--the circumstancewhether or not Diane Sampson was told the truth. So I waited there inthe darkness with patience born of many hours of like duty. 

Presently the small lamp was lit--I could tell the difference in lightwhen the big one was burning--and I heard the swish of skirts. 

"Something's happened, surely, Sally, " I heard Miss Sampson sayanxiously. "Papa just met me in the hall and didn't speak. He seemedpale, worried. "

"Cousin George looked like a thundercloud, " said Sally. "For once, hedidn't try to kiss me. Something's happened. Well, Diane, this has beena bad day for me, too. "

Plainly I heard Sally's sigh, and the little pathetic sound brought mevividly out of my sordid business of suspicion and speculation. So shewas sorry. 

"Bad for you, too?" replied Diane in amused surprise. "Oh, I see--Iforgot. You and Russ had it out. "

"Out? We fought like the very old deuce. I'll never speak to him again. "

"So your little--affair with Russ is all over?"

"Yes. " Here she sighed again. 

"Well, Sally, it began swiftly and it's just as well short, " said Dianeearnestly. "We know nothing at all of Russ. "

"Diane, after to-day I respect him in--in spite of things--even thoughhe seems no good. I--I cared a lot, too. "

"My dear, your loves are like the summer flowers. I thought maybe yourflirting with Russ might amount to something. Yet he seems so differentnow from what he was at first. It's only occasionally I get theimpression I had of him after that night he saved me from violence. He'sstrange. Perhaps it all comes of his infatuation for you. He is in lovewith you. I'm afraid of what may come of it. "

"Diane, he'll do something dreadful to George, mark my words, "whispered Sally. "He swore he would if George fooled around me anymore. "

"Oh, dear. Sally, what can we do? These are wild men. George makes lifemiserable for me. And he teases you unmer. .. "

"I don't call it teasing. George wants to spoon, " declared Sallyemphatically. "He'd run after any woman. "

"A fine compliment to me, Cousin Sally, " laughed Diane. 

"I don't agree, " replied Sally stubbornly. "It's so. He's spoony. Andwhen he's been drinking and tries to kiss me, I hate him. "

"Sally, you look as if you'd rather like Russ to do something dreadfulto George, " said Diane with a laugh that this time was only half mirth. 

"Half of me would and half of me would not, " returned Sally. "But allof me would if I weren't afraid of Russ. I've got a feeling--I don'tknow what--something will happen between George and Russ some day. "

There were quick steps on the hall floor, steps I thought I recognized. 

"Hello, girls!" sounded out Wright's voice, minus its usual gaiety. Thenensued a pause that made me bring to mind a picture of Wright's glumface. 

"George, what's the matter?" asked Diane presently. "I never saw papa ashe is to-night, nor you so--so worried. Tell me, what has happened?"

"Well, Diane, we had a jar to-day, " replied Wright, with a blunt, expressive laugh. 

"Jar?" echoed both the girls curiously. 

"Jar? We had to submit to a damnable outrage, " added Wrightpassionately, as if the sound of his voice augmented his feeling. "Listen, girls. I'll tell you all about it. "

He coughed, clearing his throat in a way that betrayed he had beendrinking. 

I sunk deeper in the shadow of my covert, and stiffening my muscles fora protracted spell of rigidity, prepared to listen with all acutenessand intensity. 

Just one word from this Wright, inadvertently uttered in a moment ofpassion, might be the word Steele needed for his clue. 

"It happened at the town hall, " began Wright rapidly. "Your father andJudge Owens and I were there in consultation with three ranchers fromout of town. First we were disturbed by gunshots from somewhere, but notclose at hand. Then we heard the loud voices outside. 

"A crowd was coming down street. It stopped before the hall. Men camerunning in, yelling. We thought there was a fire. Then that Ranger, Steele, stalked in, dragging a fellow by the name of Snell. We couldn'ttell what was wanted because of the uproar. Finally your father restoredorder. 

"Steele had arrested Snell for alleged assault on a restaurant keepernamed Hoden. It developed that Hoden didn't accuse anybody, didn't knowwho attacked him. Snell, being obviously innocent, was discharged. Thenthis--this gun fighting Ranger pulled his guns on the court and haltedthe proceedings. "

When Wright paused I plainly heard his intake of breath. Far indeed washe from calm. 

"Steele held everybody in that hall in fear of death, and he beganshouting his insults. Law was a farce in Linrock. The court was a farce. There was no law. Your father's office as mayor should be impeached. Hemade arrests only for petty offenses. He was afraid of the rustlers, highwaymen, murderers. He was afraid or--he just let them alone. He usedhis office to cheat ranchers and cattlemen in law-suits. 

"All of this Steele yelled for everyone to hear. A damnable outrage!Your father, Diane, insulted in his own court by a rowdy Ranger! Notonly insulted, but threatened with death--two big guns thrust almostin his face!"

"Oh! How horrible!" cried Diane, in mingled distress and anger. 

"Steele's a Ranger. The Ranger Service wants to rule western Texas, "went on Wright. "These Rangers are all a low set, many of them worsethan the outlaws they hunt. Some of them were outlaws and gun fightersbefore they became Rangers. 

"This Steele is one of the worst of the lot. He's keen, intelligent, smooth, and that makes him more to be feared. For he is to be feared. Hewanted to kill. He meant to kill. If your father had made the least moveSteele would have shot him. He's a cold-nerved devil--the born gunman. My God, any instant I expected to see your father fall dead at my feet!"

"Oh, George! The--the unspeakable ruffian!" cried Diane, passionately. 

"You see, Diane, this fellow Steele has failed here in Linrock. He'sbeen here weeks and done nothing. He must have got desperate. He'sinfamous and he loves his name. He seeks notoriety. He made that playwith Snell just for a chance to rant against your father. He tried toinflame all Linrock against him. That about law-suits was the worst!Damn him! He'll make us enemies. "

"What do you care for the insinuations of such a man?" said DianeSampson, her voice now deep and rich with feeling. "After a moment'sthought no one will be influenced by them. Do not worry, George, tellpapa not to worry. Surely after all these years he can't be injured inreputation by--by an adventurer. "

"Yes, he can be injured, " replied George quickly. "The frontier is aqueer place. There are many bitter men here, men who have failed atranching. And your father has been wonderfully successful. Steele hasdropped some poison, and it'll spread. "

Then followed a silence, during which, evidently, the worried Wrightbestrode the floor. 

"Cousin George, what became of Steele and his prisoner?" suddenly askedSally. 

How like her it was, with her inquisitive bent of mind and shiftingpoints of view, to ask a question the answering of which would be galland wormwood to Wright!

It amused while it thrilled me. Sally might be a flirt, but she was nofool. 

"What became of them? Ha! Steele bluffed the whole town--at least all ofit who had heard the mayor's order to discharge Snell, " growled Wright. "He took Snell--rode off for Del Rio to jail him. "

"George!" exclaimed Diane. "Then, after all, this Ranger was able toarrest Snell, the innocent man father discharged, and take him to jail?"

"Exactly. That's the toughest part. .. . " Wright ended abruptly, and thenbroke out fiercely: "But, by God, he'll never come back!"

Wright's slow pacing quickened and he strode from the parlor, leavingbehind him a silence eloquent of the effect of his sinister prediction. 

"Sally, what did he mean?" asked Diane in a low voice. 

"Steele will be killed, " replied Sally, just as low-voiced. 

"Killed! That magnificent fellow! Ah, I forgot. Sally, my wits are sadlymixed. I ought to be glad if somebody kills my father's defamer. But, oh, I can't be!

"This bloody frontier makes me sick. Papa doesn't want me to stay forgood. And no wonder. Shall I go back? I hate to show a white feather. 

"Do you know, Sally, I was--a little taken with this Texas Ranger. Miserably, I confess. He seemed so like in spirit to the grand statureof him. How can so splendid a man be so bloody, base at heart? It'shideous. How little we know of men! I had my dream about Vaughn Steele. I confess because it shames me--because I hate myself!"

Next morning I awakened with a feeling that I was more like my old self. In the experience of activity of body and mind, with a prospect thatthis was merely the forerunner of great events, I came round to my ownagain. 

Sally was not forgotten; she had just become a sorrow. So perhaps mydownfall as a lover was a precursor of better results as an officer. 

I held in abeyance my last conclusion regarding Sampson and Wright, andonly awaited Steele's return to have fixed in mind what these men were. 

Wright's remark about Steele not returning did not worry me. I had heardmany such dark sayings in reference to Rangers. 

Rangers had a trick of coming back. I did not see any man or men on thepresent horizon of Linrock equal to the killing of Steele. 

As Miss Sampson and Sally had no inclination to ride, I had even morefreedom. I went down to the town and burst, cheerily whistling, into JimHoden's place. 

Jim always made me welcome there, as much for my society as for themoney I spent, and I never neglected being free with both. I boughta handful of cigars and shoved some of them in his pocket. 

"How's tricks, Jim?" I asked cheerily. 

"Reckon I'm feelin' as well as could be expected, " replied Jim. His headwas circled by a bandage that did not conceal the lump where he had beenstruck. Jim looked a little pale, but he was bright enough. 

"That was a hell of a biff Snell gave you, the skunk, " I remarked withthe same cheery assurance. 

"Russ, I ain't accusin' Snell, " remonstrated Jim with eyes that made methoughtful. 

"Sure, I know you're too good a sport to send a fellow up. But Snelldeserved what he got. I saw his face when he made his talk to Sampson'scourt. Snell lied. And I'll tell you what, Jim, if it'd been me insteadof that Ranger, Bud Snell would have got settled. "

Jim appeared to be agitated by my forcible intimation of friendship. 

"Jim, that's between ourselves, " I went on. "I'm no fool. And much as Iblab when I'm hunky, it's all air. Maybe you've noticed that about me. In some parts of Texas it's policy to be close-mouthed. Policy andhealthy. Between ourselves, as friends, I want you to know I lean someon Steele's side of the fence. "

As I lighted a cigar I saw, out of the corner of my eye, how Hoden gavea quick start. I expected some kind of a startling idea to flash intohis mind. 

Presently I turned and frankly met his gaze. I had startled him out ofhis habitual set taciturnity, but even as I looked the light that mighthave been amaze and joy faded out of his face, leaving it the same oldmask. 

Still I had seen enough. Like a bloodhound, I had a scent. "Thet'sfunny, Russ, seein' as you drift with the gang Steele's bound to fight, "remarked Hoden. 

"Sure. I'm a sport. If I can't gamble with gentlemen I'll gamble withrustlers. "

Again he gave a slight start, and this time he hid his eyes. 

"Wal, Russ, I've heard you was slick, " he said. 

"You tumble, Jim. I'm a little better on the draw. "

"On the draw? With cards, an' gun, too, eh?"

"Now, Jim, that last follows natural. I haven't had much chance to showhow good I am on the draw with a gun. But that'll come soon. "

"Reckon thet talk's a little air, " said Hoden with his dry laugh. "Sameas you leanin' a little on the Ranger's side of the fence. "

"But, Jim, wasn't he game? What'd you think of that stand? Bluffed thewhole gang! The way he called Sampson--why, it was great! The justice ofthat call doesn't bother me. It was Steele's nerve that got me. That'dwarm any man's blood. "

There was a little red in Hoden's pale cheeks and I saw him swallowhard. I had struck deep again. 

"Say, don't you work for Sampson?" he queried. 

"Me? I _guess_ not. I'm Miss Sampson's man. He and Wright have tried tofire me many a time. "

"Thet so?" he said curiously. "What for?"

"Too many silver trimmings on me, Jim. And I pack my gun low down. "

"Wal, them two don't go much together out here, " replied Hoden. "But Iain't seen thet anyone has shot off the trimmin's. "

"Maybe it'll commence, Jim, as soon as I stop buying drinks. Talkingabout work--who'd you say Snell worked for?"

"I didn't say. "

"Well, say so now, can't you? Jim, you're powerful peevish to-day. It'sthe bump on your head. Who does Snell work for?"

"When he works at all, which sure ain't often, he rides for Sampson. "

"Humph! Seems to me, Jim, that Sampson's the whole circus round Linrock. I was some sore the other day to find I was losing good money atSampson's faro game. Sure if I'd won I wouldn't have been sorry, eh? ButI was surprised to hear some scully say Sampson owned the Hope So dive. "

"I've heard he owned considerable property hereabouts, " replied Jimconstrainedly. 

"Humph again! Why, Jim, you _know_ it, only like every other scully youmeet in this town, you're afraid to open your mug about Sampson. Get mestraight, Jim Hoden. I don't care a damn for Colonel Mayor Sampson. Andfor cause I'd throw a gun on him just as quick as on any rustler inPecos. "

"Talk's cheap, my boy, " replied Hoden, making light of my bluster, butthe red was deep in his face. 

"Sure, I know that, " I said, calming down. "My temper gets up, Jim. Thenit's not well known that Sampson owns the Hope So?"

"Reckon it's known in Pecos, all right. But Sampson's name isn'tconnected with the Hope So. Blandy runs the place. "

"That Blandy--I've got no use for him. His faro game's crooked, or I'mlocoed bronc. Not that we don't have lots of crooked faro dealers. Afellow can stand for them. But Blandy's mean, back handed, never looksyou in the eyes. That Hope So place ought to be run by a good fellowlike you, Hoden. "

"Thanks, Russ, " replied he, and I imagined his voice a little husky. "Didn't you ever hear _I_ used to run it?"

"No. Did you?" I said quickly. 

"I reckon. I built the place, made additions twice, owned it for elevenyears. "

"Well, I'll be doggoned!"

It was indeed my turn to be surprised, and with the surprise cameglimmering. 

"I'm sorry you're not there now, Jim. Did you sell out?"

"No. Just lost the place. "

Hoden was bursting for relief now--to talk--to tell. Sympathy had madehim soft. I did not need to ask another question. 

"It was two years ago--two years last March, " he went on. "I was in abig cattle deal with Sampson. We got the stock, an' my share, eighteenhundred head, was rustled off. I owed Sampson. He pressed me. It come toa lawsuit, an' I--was ruined. "

It hurt me to look at Hoden. He was white, and tears rolled down hischeeks. 

I saw the bitterness, the defeat, the agony of the man. He had failed tomeet his obligation; nevertheless he had been swindled. 

All that he suppressed, all that would have been passion had the man'sspirit not been broken, lay bare for me to see. I had now the secret ofhis bitterness. 

But the reason he did not openly accuse Sampson, the secret of hisreticence and fear--these I thought best to try to learn at some latertime, after I had consulted with Steele. 

"Hard luck! Jim, it certainly was tough, " I said. "But you're a goodloser. And the wheel turns!

"Now, Jim, here's what I come particular to see you for. I need youradvice. I've got a little money. Between you and me, as friends, I'vebeen adding some to that roll all the time. But before I lose it I wantto invest some. Buy some stock or buy an interest in some rancher'sherd. 

"What I want you to steer me on is a good, square rancher. Or maybe acouple of ranchers if there happen to be two honest ones in Pecos. Eh?No deals with ranchers who ride in the dark with rustlers! I've a hunchLinrock's full of them. 

"Now, Jim, you've been here for years. So you must know a couple of menabove suspicion. "

"Thank God I do, Russ, " he replied feelingly. "Frank Morton an' SiZimmer, my friends an' neighbors all my prosperous days. An' friendsstill. You can gamble on Frank and Si. But Russ, if you want advice fromme, don't invest money in stock now. "

"Why?"

"Because any new feller buyin' stock in Pecos these days will berustled quicker'n he can say Jack Robinson. The pioneers, the newcattlemen--these are easy pickin'. But the new fellers have to learn theropes. They don't know anythin' or anybody. An' the old ranchers arewise an' sore. They'd fight if they. .. . "

"What?" I put in as he paused. "If they knew who was rustling the stock?"

"Nope. "

"If they had the nerve?"

"Not thet so much. "

"What then? What'd make them fight?"

"A leader!"

I went out of Hoden's with that word ringing in my ears. A leader! In mymind's eye I saw a horde of dark faced, dusty-booted cattlemen ridinggrim and armed behind Vaughn Steele. 

More thoughtful than usual, I walked on, passing some of my old haunts, and was about to turn in front of a feed and grain store when a heartyslap on my back disturbed my reflection. 

"Howdy thar, cowboy, " boomed a big voice. 

It was Morton, the rancher whom Jim had mentioned, and whoseacquaintance I had made. He was a man of great bulk, with a ruddy, merry face. 

"Hello, Morton. Let's have a drink, " I replied. 

"Gotta rustle home, " he said. "Young feller, I've a ranch to work. "

"Sell it to me, Morton. "

He laughed and said he wished he could. His buckboard stood at the rail, the horses stamping impatiently. 

"Cards must be runnin' lucky, " he went on, with another hearty laugh. 

"Can't kick on the luck. But I'm afraid it will change. Morton, myfriend Hoden gave me a hunch you'd be a good man to tie to. Now, I'vea little money, and before I lose it I'd like to invest it in stock. "

He smiled broadly, but for all his doubt of me he took definiteinterest. 

"I'm not drunk, and I'm on the square, " I said bluntly. "You've taken mefor a no-good cow puncher without any brains. Wake up, Morton. If younever size up your neighbors any better than you have me--well, youwon't get any richer. "

It was sheer enjoyment for me to make my remarks to these men, pregnantwith meaning. Morton showed his pleasure, his interest, but his faithheld aloof. 

"I've got some money. I had some. Then the cards have run lucky. Willyou let me in on some kind of deal? Will you start me up as a stockman, with a little herd all my own?"

"Russ, this's durn strange, comin' from Sampson's cowboy, " he said. 

"I'm not in his outfit. My job's with Miss Sampson. She's fine, but theold man? Nit! He's been after me for weeks. I won't last long. That'sone reason why I want to start up for myself. "

"Hoden sent you to me, did he? Poor ol' Jim. Wal, Russ, to come outflat-footed, you'd be foolish to buy cattle now. I don't want to takeyour money an' see you lose out. Better go back across the Pecos wherethe rustlers ain't so strong. I haven't had more'n twenty-five-hundredhead of stock for ten years. The rustlers let me hang on to a breedin'herd. Kind of them, ain't it?"

"Sort of kind. All I hear is rustlers. " I replied with impatience. "Yousee, I haven't ever lived long in a rustler-run county. Who heads thegang anyway?"

Frank Morton looked at me with a curiously-amused smile. 

"I hear lots about Jack Blome and Snecker. Everybody calls them out andout bad. Do they head this mysterious gang?"

"Russ, I opine Blome an' Snecker parade themselves off boss rustlerssame as gun throwers. But thet's the love such men have for bein'thought hell. That's brains headin' the rustler gang hereabouts. "

"Maybe Blome and Snecker are blinds. Savvy what I mean, Morton? Maybethere's more in the parade than just the fame of it. "

Morton snapped his big jaw as if to shut in impulsive words. 

"Look here, Morton. I'm not so young in years even if I am young west ofthe Pecos. I can figure ahead. It stands to reason, no matter how damnstrong these rustlers are, how hidden their work, however involved withsupposedly honest men--they can't last. "

"They come with the pioneers an' they'll last as long as thar's a singlesteer left, " he declared. 

"Well, if you take that view of circumstances I just figure you as oneof the rustlers!"

Morton looked as if he were about to brain me with the butt of his whip. His anger flashed by then as unworthy of him, and, something strikinghim as funny, he boomed out a laugh. 

"It's not so funny, " I went on. "If you're going to pretend a yellowstreak, what else will I think?"

"Pretend?" he repeated. 

"Sure. You can't fool me, Morton. I know men of nerve. And here in Pecosthey're not any different from those in other places. I say if you showanything like a lack of sand it's all bluff. 

"By nature you've got nerve. There are a lot of men round Linrock who'reafraid of their shadows, afraid to be out after dark, afraid to opentheir mouths. But you're not one. 

"So, I say, if you claim these rustlers will last, you're pretendinglack of nerve just to help the popular idea along. For they can't last. 

"Morton, I don't want to be a hard-riding cowboy all my days. Do youthink I'd let fear of a gang of rustlers stop me from going in businesswith a rancher? Nit! What you need out here in Pecos is some newblood--a few youngsters like me to get you old guys started. Savvy whatI mean?"

"Wal, I reckon I do, " he replied, looking as if a storm had blown overhim. 

I gauged the hold the rustler gang had on Linrock by the difficult jobit was to stir this really courageous old cattleman. He had grown upwith the evil. To him it must have been a necessary one, the same as dryseasons and cyclones. 

"Russ, I'll look you up the next time I come to town, " he said soberly. 

We parted, and I, more than content with the meeting, retraced my stepsdown street to the Hope So saloon. 

Here I entered, bent on tasks as sincere as the ones just finished, butdispleasing, because I had to mix with a low, profane set, to cultivatethem, to drink occasionally despite my deftness at emptying glasses onthe floor, to gamble with them and strangers, always playing the part ofa flush and flashy cowboy, half drunk, ready to laugh or fight. 

On the night of the fifth day after Steele's departure, I went, as wasmy habit, to the rendezvous we maintained at the pile of rocks out inthe open. 

The night was clear, bright starlight, without any moon, and for thislatter fact safer to be abroad. Often from my covert I had seen darkfigures skulking in and out of Linrock. 

It would have been interesting to hold up these mysterious travelers; sofar, however, this had not been our game. I had enough to keep my owntracks hidden, and my own comings and goings. 

I liked to be out in the night, with the darkness close down to theearth, and the feeling of a limitless open all around. Not only did Ilisten for Steele's soft step, but for any sound--the yelp of coyote ormourn of wolf, the creak of wind in the dead brush, the distant clatterof hoofs, a woman's singing voice faint from the town. 

This time, just when I was about to give up for that evening, Steelecame looming like a black giant long before I heard his soft step. Itwas good to feel his grip, even if it hurt, because after five days Ihad begun to worry. 

"Well, old boy, how's tricks?" he asked easily. 

"Well, old man, did you land that son of a gun in jail?"

"You bet I did. And he'll stay there for a while. Del Rio rather likedthe idea, Russ. All right there. I side-stepped Sanderson on the wayback. But over here at the little village--Sampson they call it--I washeld up. Couldn't help it, because there wasn't any road around. "

"Held up?" I queried. 

"That's it, the buckboard was held up. I got into the brush in time tosave my bacon. They began to shoot too soon. "

"Did you get any of them?"

"Didn't stay to see, " he chuckled. "Had to hoof it to Linrock, and it'sa good long walk. "

"Been to your 'dobe yet to-night?"

"I slipped in at the back. Russ, it bothered me some to make sure no onewas laying for me in the dark. "

"You'll have to get a safer place. Why not take to the open everynight?"

"Russ, that's well enough on a trail. But I need grub, and I've got tohave a few comforts. I'll risk the 'dobe yet a little. "

Then I narrated all that I had seen and done and heard during hisabsence, holding back one thing. What I did tell him sobered him atonce, brought the quiet, somber mood, the thoughtful air. 

"So that's all. Well, it's enough. "

"All pertaining to our job, Vaughn, " I replied. "The rest is sentiment, perhaps. I had a pretty bad case of moons over the little Langdon girl. But we quarreled. And it's ended now. Just as well, too, because ifshe'd. .. . "

"Russ, did you honestly care for her? The real thing, I mean?"

"I--I'm afraid so. I'm sort of hurt inside. But, hell! There's one thingsure, a love affair might have hindered me, made me soft. I'm glad it'sover. "

He said no more, but his big hand pressing on my knee told me of hissympathy, another indication that there was nothing wanting in thisRanger. 

"The other thing concerns you, " I went on, somehow reluctant now to tellthis. "You remember how I heard Wright making you out vile to MissSampson? Swore you'd never come back? Well, after he had gone, whenSally said he'd meant you'd be killed, Miss Sampson felt bad about it. She said she ought to be glad if someone killed you, but she couldn'tbe. She called you a bloody ruffian, yet she didn't want you shot. 

"She said some things about the difference between your hideouscharacter and your splendid stature. Called you a magnificentfellow--that was it. Well, then she choked up and confessed something toSally in shame and disgrace. "

"Shame--disgrace?" echoed Steele, greatly interested. "What?"

"She confessed she had been taken with you--had her little dream aboutyou. And she hated herself for it. "

Never, I thought, would I forget Vaughn Steele's eyes. It did notmatter that it was dark; I saw the fixed gleam, then the leaping, shadowy light. 

"Did she say that?" His voice was not quite steady. "Wonderful! Even ifit only lasted a minute! She might--we might--If it wasn't for thishellish job! Russ, has it dawned on you yet, what I've got to do toDiane Sampson?"

"Yes, " I replied. "Vaughn, you haven't gone sweet on her?"

What else could I make of that terrible thing in his eyes? He did notreply to that at all. I thought my arm would break in his clutch. 

"You said you knew what I've got to do to Diane Sampson, " he repeatedhoarsely. 

"Yes, you've got to ruin her happiness, if not her life. "

"Why? Speak out, Russ. All this comes like a blow. There for a little Ihoped you had worked out things differently from me. No hope. Ruin herlife! Why?"

I could explain this strange agitation in Steele in no other way exceptthat realization had brought keen suffering as incomprehensible as itwas painful. I could not tell if it came from suddenly divined love forDiane Sampson equally with a poignant conviction that his fate was towreck her. But I did see that he needed to speak out the brutal truth. 

"Steele, old man, you'll ruin Diane Sampson, because, as arrest looksimprobable to me, you'll have to kill her father. "

"My God! Why, why? Say it!"

"Because Sampson is the leader of the Linrock gang of rustlers. "

That night before we parted we had gone rather deeply into the plan ofaction for the immediate future. 

First I gave Steele my earnest counsel and then as stiff an argument asI knew how to put up, all anent the absolute necessity of his eternalvigilance. If he got shot in a fair encounter with his enemies--well, that was a Ranger's risk and no disgrace. But to be massacred in bed, knifed, in the dark, shot in the back, ambushed in any manner--not oneof these miserable ends must be the last record of Vaughn Steele. 

He promised me in a way that made me wonder if he would ever sleep againor turn his back on anyone--made me wonder too, at the menace in hisvoice. Steele seemed likely to be torn two ways, and already there was ahint of future desperation. 

It was agreed that I make cautious advances to Hoden and Morton, andwhen I could satisfy myself of their trustworthiness reveal my identityto them. Through this I was to cultivate Zimmer, and then other rancherswhom we should decide could be let into the secret. 

It was not only imperative that we learn through them clues by which wemight eventually fix guilt on the rustler gang, but also just asimperative that we develop a band of deputies to help us when the fightbegan. 

Steele, now that he was back in Linrock, would have the center of thestage, with all eyes upon him. We agreed, moreover, that the bolder thefront now the better the chance of ultimate success. The more nerve heshowed the less danger of being ambushed, the less peril in facingvicious men. 

But we needed a jail. Prisoners had to be corraled after arrest, or thework would be useless, almost a farce, and there was no possibility ofrepeating trips to Del Rio. 

We could not use an adobe house for a jail, because that could be easilycut out of or torn down. 

Finally I remembered an old stone house near the end of the main street;it had one window and one door, and had been long in disuse. Steelewould rent it, hire men to guard and feed his prisoners; and if theseprisoners bribed or fought their way to freedom, that would not injurethe great principle for which he stood. 

Both Steele and I simultaneously, from different angles of reasoning, had arrived at a conviction of Sampson's guilt. It was not so strong asrealization; rather a divination. 

Long experience in detecting, in feeling the hidden guilt of men, hadsharpened our senses for that particular thing. Steele acknowledged afew mistakes in his day; but I, allowing for the same strength ofconviction, had never made a single mistake. 

But conviction was one thing and proof vastly another. Furthermore, whenproof was secured, then came the crowning task--that of taking desperatemen in a wild country they dominated. 

Verily, Steele and I had our work cut out for us. However, we wereprepared to go at it with infinite patience and implacable resolve. Steele and I differed only in the driving incentive; of course, outsideof that one binding vow to save the Ranger Service. 

He had a strange passion, almost an obsession, to represent the law ofTexas, and by so doing render something of safety and happiness to thehonest pioneers. 

Beside Steele I knew I shrunk to a shadow. I was not exactly a heathen, and certainly I wanted to help harassed people, especially women andchildren; but mainly with me it was the zest, the thrill, the hazard, the matching of wits--in a word, the adventure of the game. 

Next morning I rode with the young ladies. In the light of Sally'spersistently flagrant advances, to which I was apparently blind, I sawthat my hard-won victory over self was likely to be short-lived. 

That possibility made me outwardly like ice. I was an attentive, careful, reliable, and respectful attendant, seeing to the safety of mycharges; but the one-time gay and debonair cowboy was a thing of thepast. 

Sally, womanlike, had been a little--a very little--repentant; she hadshowed it, my indifference had piqued her; she had made advances andthen my coldness had roused her spirit. She was the kind of girl tovalue most what she had lost, and to throw consequences to the winds inwinning it back. 

When I divined this I saw my revenge. To be sure, when I thought of itI had no reason to want revenge. She had been most gracious to me. 

But there was the catty thing she had said about being kissed again byher admirers. Then, in all seriousness, sentiment aside, I dared notmake up with her. 

So the cold and indifferent part I played was imperative. 

We halted out on the ridge and dismounted for the usual little rest. Mine I took in the shade of a scrubby mesquite. The girls strolled awayout of sight. It was a drowsy day, and I nearly fell asleep. 

Something aroused me--a patter of footsteps or a rustle of skirts. Thena soft thud behind me gave me at once a start and a thrill. First I sawSally's little brown hands on my shoulders. Then her head, with hair allshiny and flying and fragrant, came round over my shoulder, softlysmoothing my cheek, until her sweet, saucy, heated face was right undermy eyes. 

"Russ, don't you love me any more?" she whispered. 

Chapter 4

STEELE BREAKS UP THE PARTY

That night, I saw Steele at our meeting place, and we compared notes andpondered details of our problem. 

Steele had rented the stone house to be used as a jail. While theblacksmith was putting up a door and window calculated to withstand manyonslaughts, all the idlers and strangers in town went to see the sight. Manifestly it was an occasion for Linrock. When Steele let it be knownthat he wanted to hire a jailer and a guard this caustically humorouselement offered itself _en masse_. The men made a joke out of it. 

When Steele and I were about to separate I remembered a party that wasto be given by Miss Sampson, and I told him about it. He shook his headsadly, almost doubtfully. 

Was it possible that Sampson could be a deep eyed, cunning scoundrel, the true leader of the cattle rustlers, yet keep that beautiful andinnocent girl out on the frontier and let her give parties to sons anddaughters of a community he had robbed? To any but remorseless Rangersthe idea was incredible. 

Thursday evening came in spite of what the girls must have regarded asan interminably dragging day. 

It was easy to differentiate their attitudes toward this party. Sallywanted to look beautiful, to excell all the young ladies who were toattend, to attach to her train all the young men, and have them fightingto dance with her. Miss Sampson had an earnest desire to open herfather's house to the people of Linrock, to show that a daughter hadcome into his long cheerless home, to make the evening one of pleasureand entertainment. 

I happened to be present in the parlor, was carrying in some flowers forfinal decoration, when Miss Sampson learned that her father had justridden off with three horsemen whom Dick, who brought the news, had notrecognized. 

In her keen disappointment she scarcely heard Dick's concluding remarkabout the hurry of the colonel. My sharp ears, however, took this in andit was thought-provoking. Sampson was known to ride off at all hours, yet this incident seemed unusual. 

At eight o'clock the house and porch and patio were ablaze with lights. Every lantern and lamp on the place, together with all that could bebought and borrowed, had been brought into requisition. 

The cowboys arrived first, all dressed in their best, clean shaven, redfaced, bright eyed, eager for the fun to commence. Then the young peoplefrom town, and a good sprinkling of older people, came in a steadystream. 

Miss Sampson received them graciously, excused her father's absence, andbade them be at home. 

The music, or the discordance that went by that name, was furnished bytwo cowboys with banjos and an antediluvian gentleman with a fiddle. Nevertheless, it was music that could be danced to, and there was nolack of enthusiasm. 

I went from porch to parlor and thence to patio, watching and amused. The lights and the decorations of flowers, the bright dresses and theflashy scarfs of the cowboys furnished a gay enough scene to a man oflonesome and stern life like mine. During the dance there was a steady, continuous shuffling tramp of boots, and during the interval following asteady, low hum of merry talk and laughter. 

My wandering from place to place, apart from my usual carefulobservation, was an unobtrusive but, to me, a sneaking pursuit of SallyLangdon. 

She had on a white dress I had never seen with a low neck and shortsleeves, and she looked so sweet, so dainty, so altogether desirable, that I groaned a hundred times in my jealousy. Because, manifestly, Sally did not intend to run any risk of my not seeing her in her glory, no matter where my eyes looked. 

A couple of times in promenading I passed her on the arm of some proudcowboy or gallant young buck from town, and on these occasions shefavored her escort with a languishing glance that probably did as muchdamage to him as to me. 

Presently she caught me red-handed in my careless, sauntering pursuit ofher, and then, whether by intent or from indifference, she apparentlydeigned me no more notice. But, quick to feel a difference in her, Imarked that from that moment her gaiety gradually merged intocoquettishness, and soon into flirtation. 

Then, just to see how far she would go, perhaps desperately hoping shewould make me hate her, I followed her shamelessly from patio to parlor, porch to court, even to the waltz. 

To her credit, she always weakened when some young fellow got her in acorner and tried to push the flirting to extremes. Young Waters was theonly one lucky enough to kiss her, and there was more of strength in hisconquest of her than any decent fellow could be proud of. 

When George Wright sought Sally out there was added to my jealousy areal anxiety. I had brushed against Wright more than once that evening. He was not drunk, yet under the influence of liquor. 

Sally, however, evidently did not discover that, because, knowing herabhorrence of drink, I believed she would not have walked out with himhad she known. Anyway, I followed them, close in the shadow. 

Wright was unusually gay. I saw him put his arm around her withoutremonstrance. When the music recommenced they went back to the house. Wright danced with Sally, not ungracefully for a man who rode a horse asmuch as he. After the dance he waved aside Sally's many partners, not sogaily as would have been consistent with good feeling, and led her away. I followed. They ended up that walk at the extreme corner of the patio, where, under gaily colored lights, a little arbor had been made amongthe flowers and vines. 

Sally seemed to have lost something of her vivacity. They had not beenout of my sight for a moment before Sally cried out. It was a cry ofimpatience or remonstrance, rather than alarm, but I decided that itwould serve me an excuse. 

I dashed back, leaped to the door of the arbor, my hand on my gun. 

Wright was holding Sally. When he heard me he let her go. Then sheuttered a cry that was one of alarm. Her face blanched; her eyes grewstrained. One hand went to her breast. She thought I meant to killWright. 

"Excuse me, " I burst out frankly, turning to Wright. I never saw ahyena, but he looked like one. "I heard a squeal. Thought a girl washurt, or something. Miss Sampson gave me orders to watch out foraccidents, fire, anything. So excuse me, Wright. "

As I stepped back, to my amazement, Sally, excusing herself to thescowling Wright, hurriedly joined me. 

"Oh, it's our dance, Russ!"

She took my arm and we walked through the patio. 

"I'm afraid of him, Russ, " she whispered. "You frightened me worsethough. You didn't mean to--to--"

"I made a bluff. Saw he'd been drinking, so I kept near you. "

"You return good for evil, " she replied, squeezing my arm. "Russ, let metell you--whenever anything frightens me since we got here I think ofyou. If you're only near I feel safe. "

We paused at the door leading into the big parlor. Couples were passing. Here I could scarcely distinguish the last words she said. She stoodbefore me, eyes downcast, face flushed, as sweet and pretty a lass asman could want to see, and with her hand she twisted round and round asilver button on my buckskin vest. 

"Dance with me, the rest of this, " she said. "George shooed away mypartner. I'm glad for the chance. Dance with me, Russ--not gallantly ordutifully because I ask you, but because you _want_ to. Else not atall. "

There was a limit to my endurance. There would hardly be another eveninglike this, at least, for me, in that country. I capitulated with whatgrace I could express. 

We went into the parlor, and as we joined the dancers, despite all thatconfusion I heard her whisper: "I've been a little beast to you. "

That dance seemingly lasted only a moment--a moment while she was allairy grace, radiant, and alluring, floating close to me, with our handsclasped. Then it appeared the music had ceased, the couples were findingseats, and Sally and I were accosted by Miss Sampson. 

She said we made a graceful couple in the dance. And Sally said she didnot have to reach up a mile to me--I was not so awfully tall. 

And I, tongue-tied for once, said nothing. 

Wright had returned and was now standing, cigarette between lips, in thedoor leading out to the patio. At the same moment that I heard a heavytramp of boots, from the porch side I saw Wright's face changeremarkably, expressing amaze, consternation, then fear. 

I wheeled in time to see Vaughn Steele bend his head to enter the dooron that side. The dancers fell back. 

At sight of him I was again the Ranger, his ally. Steele was pale, yetheated. He panted. He wore no hat. He had his coat turned up and withleft hand he held the lapels together. 

In a quick ensuing silence Miss Sampson rose, white as her dress. Theyoung women present stared in astonishment and their partners showedexcitement. 

"Miss Sampson, I came to search your house!" panted Steele, courteously, yet with authority. 

I disengaged myself from Sally, who was clinging to my hands, and Istepped forward out of the corner. Steele had been running. Why did hehold his coat like that? I sensed action, and the cold thrill animatedme. 

Miss Sampson's astonishment was succeeded by anger difficult to control. 

"In the absence of my father I am mistress here. I will not permit youto search my house. "

"Then I regret to say I must do so without your permission, " he saidsternly. 

"Do not dare!" she flashed. She stood erect, her bosom swelling, hereyes magnificently black with passion. "How dare you intrude here? Haveyou not insulted us enough? To search my house to-night--to break up myparty--oh, it's worse than outrage! Why on earth do you want to searchhere? Ah, for the same reason you dragged a poor innocent man into myfather's court! Sir, I forbid you to take another step into this house. "

Steele's face was bloodless now, and I wondered if it had to do with herscathing scorn or something that he hid with his hand closing his coatthat way. 

"Miss Sampson, I don't need warrants to search houses, " he said. "Butthis time I'll respect your command. It would be too bad to spoil yourparty. Let me add, perhaps you do me a little wrong. God knows I hopeso. I was shot by a rustler. He fled. I chased him here. He has takenrefuge here--in your father's house. He's hidden somewhere. "

Steele spread wide his coat lapels. He wore a light shirt, the color ofwhich in places was white. The rest was all a bloody mass from whichdark red drops fell to the floor. 

"Oh!" cried Miss Sampson. 

Scorn and passion vanished in the horror, the pity, of a woman whoimagined she saw a man mortally wounded. It was a hard sight for awoman's eyes, that crimson, heaving breast. 

"Surely I didn't see that, " went on Steele, closing his coat. "You usedunforgettable words, Miss Sampson. From you they hurt. For I standalone. My fight is to make Linrock safer, cleaner, a better home forwomen and children. Some day you will remember what you said. "

How splendid he looked, how strong against odds. How simple a dignityfitted his words. Why, a woman far blinder than Diane Sampson could haveseen that here stood a man. 

Steele bowed, turned on his heel, and strode out to vanish in the dark. 

Then while she stood bewildered, still shocked, I elected to do somerapid thinking. 

How seriously was Steele injured? An instant's thought was enough totell me that if he had sustained any more than a flesh wound he wouldnot have chased his assailant, not with so much at stake in the future. 

Then I concerned myself with a cold grip of desire to get near therustler who had wounded Steele. As I started forward, however, MissSampson defeated me. Sally once more clung to my hands, and directly wewere surrounded by an excited circle. 

It took a moment or two to calm them. 

"Then there's a rustler--here--hiding?" repeated Miss Sampson. 

"Miss Sampson, I'll find him. I'll rout him out, " I said. 

"Yes, yes, find him, Russ, but don't use violence, " she replied. "Sendhim away--no, give him over to--"

"Nothing of the kind, " interrupted George Wright, loud-voiced. "Cousin, go on with your dance. I'll take a couple of cowboys. I'll findthis--this rustler, if there's one here. But I think it's only anotherbluff of Steele's. "

This from Wright angered me deeply, and I strode right for the door. 

"Where are you going?" he demanded. 

"I've Miss Sampson's orders. She wants me to find this hidden man. Shetrusts me not to allow any violence. "

"Didn't I say I'd see to that?" he snarled. 

"Wright, I don't care what you say, " I retorted. "But I'm thinking youmight not want me to find this rustler. "

Wright turned black in the face. Verily, if he had worn a gun he wouldhave pulled it on me. As it was, Miss Sampson's interference probablyprevented more words, if no worse. 

"Don't quarrel, " she said. "George, you go with Russ. Please hurry. I'llbe nervous till the rustler's found or you're sure there's not one. "

We started with several cowboys to ransack the house. We went throughthe rooms, searching, calling out, flashing our lanterns in dark places. 

It struck me forcibly that Wright did all the calling. He hurried, too, tried to keep in the lead. I wondered if he knew his voice would berecognized by the hiding man. 

Be that as it might, it was I who peered into a dark corner, and thenwith a cocked gun leveled I said: "Come out!"

He came forth into the flare of lanterns, a tall, slim, dark-facedyouth, wearing dark sombrero, blouse and trousers. I collared him beforeany of the others could move, and I held the gun close enough to makehim shrink. 

But he did not impress me as being frightened just then; nevertheless, he had a clammy face, the pallid look of a man who had just gotten overa shock. He peered into my face, then into that of the cowboy next tome, then into Wright's and if ever in my life I beheld relief I saw itthen. 

That was all I needed to know, but I meant to find out more if I could. 

"Who're you?" I asked quietly. 

He gazed rather arrogantly down at me. It always irritated me to belooked down at that way. 

"Say, don't be gay with me or you'll get it good, " I yelled, proddinghim in the side with the cocked gun. "Who are you? Quick!"

"Bo Snecker, " he said. 

"Any relation to Bill Snecker?"

"His son. "

"What'd you hide here for?"

He appeared to grow sullen. 

"Reckoned I'd be as safe in Sampson's as anywheres. "

"Ahuh! You're taking a long chance, " I replied, and he never knew, orany of the others, just how long a chance that was. 

Sight of Steele's bloody breast remained with me, and I had somethingsinister to combat. This was no time for me to reveal myself or to showunusual feeling or interest for Steele. 

As Steele had abandoned his search, I had nothing to do now but let theothers decide what disposition was to be made of Snecker. 

"Wright, what'll you do with him?" I queried, as if uncertain, now thecapture was made. I let Snecker go and sheathed my weapon. 

That seemed a signal for him to come to life. I guessed he had not muchfancied the wide and somewhat variable sweep of that cocked gun. 

"I'll see to that, " replied Wright gruffly, and he pushed Snecker infront of him into the hall. I followed them out into the court at theback of the house. 

As I had very little further curiosity I did not wait to see where theywent, but hurried back to relieve Miss Sampson and Sally. 

I found them as I had left them--Sally quiet, pale, Miss Sampson nervousand distressed. I soon calmed their fears of any further trouble orpossible disturbance. Miss Sampson then became curious and wanted toknow who the rustler was. 

"How strange he should come here, " she said several times. 

"Probably he'd run this way or thought he had a better chance to hidewhere there was dancing and confusion, " I replied glibly. 

I wondered how much longer I would find myself keen to shunt her mindfrom any channel leading to suspicion. 

"Would papa have arrested him?" she asked. 

"Colonel Sampson might have made it hot for him, " I replied frankly, feeling that if what I said had a double meaning it still was no lie. 

"Oh, I forgot--the Ranger!" she exclaimed suddenly. "That awfulsight--the whole front of him bloody! Russ, how could he stand up undersuch a wound? Do you think it'll kill him?"

"That's hard to say. A man like Steele can stand a lot. "

"Russ, please go find him! See how it is with him!" she said, almostpleadingly. 

I started, glad of the chance and hurried down toward the town. 

There was a light in the little adobe house where he lived, andproceeding cautiously, so as to be sure no one saw me, I went close andwhistled low in a way he would recognize. Then he opened the door and Iwent in. 

"Hello, son!" he said. "You needn't have worried. Sling a blanket overthat window so no one can see in. "

He had his shirt off and had been in the act of bandaging a wound thatthe bullet had cut in his shoulder. 

"Let me tie that up, " I said, taking the strips of linen. "Ahuh! Shotyou from behind, didn't he?"

"How else, you locoed lady-charmer? It's a wonder I didn't have to tellyou that. "

"Tell me about it. "

Steele related a circumstance differing little from other attempts athis life, and concluded by saying that Snecker was a good runner if hewas not a good shot. 

I finished the bandaging and stood off, admiring Steele's magnificentshoulders. I noted, too, on the fine white skin more than one scar madeby bullets. I got an impression that his strength and vitality were likehis spirit--unconquerable!

"So you knew it was Bill Snecker's son?" I asked when I had told himabout finding the rustler. 

"Sure. Jim Hoden pointed him out to me yesterday. Both the Sneckers arein town. From now on we're going to be busy, Russ. "

"It can't come too soon for me, " I replied. "Shall I chuck my job? Comeout from behind these cowboy togs?"

"Not yet. We need proof, Russ. We've got to be able to prove things. Hang on at the ranch yet awhile. "

"This Bo Snecker was scared stiff till he recognized Wright. Isn't thatproof?"

"No, that's nothing. We've got to catch Sampson and Wright red-handed. "

"I don't like the idea of you trailing along alone, " I protested. "Remember what Neal told me. I'm to kick. It's time for me to hang roundwith a couple of guns. You'll never use one. "

"The hell I won't, " he retorted, with a dark glance of passion. I wassurprised that my remark had angered him. "You fellows are all wrong. Iknow _when_ to throw a gun. You ought to remember that Rangers have abad name for wanting to shoot. And I'm afraid it's deserved. "

"Did you shoot at Snecker?" I queried. 

"I could have got him in the back. But that wouldn't do. I shot threetimes at his legs--tried to let him down. I'd have made him telleverything he knew, but he ran. He was too fast for me. "

"Shooting at his legs! No wonder he ran. He savvied your game all right. It's funny, Vaughn, how these rustlers and gunmen don't mind beingkilled. But to cripple them, rope them, jail them--that's hell to them!Well, I'm to go on, up at the ranch, falling further in love with thatsweet kid instead of coming out straight to face things with you?"

Steele had to laugh, yet he was more thoughtful of my insistence. 

"Russ, you think you have patience, but you don't know what patience is. I won't be hurried on this job. But I'll tell you what: I'll hang undercover most of the time when you're not close to me. See? That can bemanaged. I'll watch for you when you come in town. We'll go in the sameplaces. And in case I get busy you can stand by and trail along afterme. That satisfy you?"

"Fine!" I said, both delighted and relieved. "Well, I'll have to rustleback now to tell Miss Sampson you're all right. "

Steele had about finished pulling on a clean shirt, exercising care notto disarrange the bandages; and he stopped short to turn squarely andlook at me with hungry eyes. 

"Russ, did she--show sympathy?"

"She was all broken up about it. Thought you were going to die. "

"Did she send you?"

"Sure. And she said hurry, " I replied. 

I was not a little gleeful over the apparent possibility of Steele beingin the same boat with me. 

"Do you think she would have cared if--if I had been shot up bad?"

The great giant of a Ranger asked this like a boy, hesitatingly, withcolor in his face. 

"Care! Vaughn, you're as thickheaded as you say I'm locoed. DianeSampson has fallen in love with you! That's all. Love at first sight!She doesn't realize it. But I know. "

There he stood as if another bullet had struck him, this time straightthrough the heart. Perhaps one had--and I repented a little of myoverconfident declaration. 

Still, I would not go back on it. I believed it. 

"Russ, for God's sake! What a terrible thing to say!" he ejaculatedhoarsely. 

"No. It's not terrible to _say_ it--only the fact is terrible, " I wenton. I may be wrong. But I swear I'm right. When you opened your coat, showed that bloody breast--well, I'll never forget her eyes. 

"She had been furious. She showed passion--hate. Then all in a secondsomething wonderful, beautiful broke through. Pity, fear, agonizedthought of your death! If that's not love, if--if she did not betraylove, then I never saw it. She thinks she hates you. But she loves you. "

"Get out of here, " he ordered thickly. 

I went, not forgetting to peep out at the door and to listen a moment, then I hurried into the open, up toward the ranch. 

The stars were very big and bright, so calm, so cold, that it somehowhurt me to look at them. Not like men's lives, surely!

What had fate done to Vaughn Steele and to me? I had a moment ofbitterness, an emotion rare with me. 

Most Rangers put love behind them when they entered the Service andseldom found it after that. But love had certainly met me on the way, and I now had confirmation of my fear that Vaughn was hard hit. 

Then the wildness, the adventurer in me stirred to the wonder of it all. It was in me to exult even in the face of fate. Steele and I, whilebalancing our lives on the hair-trigger of a gun, had certainly falleninto a tangled web of circumstances not calculated in the role ofRangers. 

I went back to the ranch with regret, remorse, sorrow knocking at myheart, but notwithstanding that, tingling alive to the devilishexcitement of the game. 

I knew not what it was that prompted me to sow the same seed in DianeSampson's breast that I had sown in Steele's; probably it was just apropensity for sheer mischief, probably a certainty of the truth and astrange foreshadowing of a coming event. 

If Diane Sampson loved, through her this event might be less tragic. Somehow love might save us all. 

That was the shadowy portent flitting in the dark maze of my mind. 

At the ranch dancing had been resumed. There might never have been anyinterruption of the gaiety. I found Miss Sampson on the lookout for meand she searched my face with eyes that silenced my one last qualm ofconscience. 

"Let's go out in the patio, " I suggested. "I don't want any one to hearwhat I say. "

Outside in the starlight she looked white and very beautiful. I felt hertremble. Perhaps my gravity presaged the worst. So it did in oneway--poor Vaughn!

"I went down to Steele's 'dobe, the little place where he lives. " Ibegan, weighing my words. "He let me in--was surprised. He had been shothigh in the shoulder, not a dangerous wound. I bandaged it for him. Hewas grateful--said he had no friends. "

"Poor fellow! Oh, I'm glad it--it isn't bad, " said Miss Sampson. Something glistened in her eyes. 

"He looked strange, sort of forlorn. I think your words--what you saidhurt him more than the bullet. I'm sure of that, Miss Sampson. "

"Oh, I saw that myself! I was furious. But I--I meant what I said. "

"You wronged Steele. I happen to know. I know his record along the RioGrande. It's scarcely my place, Miss Sampson, to tell you what you'llfind out for yourself, sooner or later. "

"What shall I find out?" she demanded. 

"I've said enough. "

"No. You mean my father and cousin George are misinformed or wrong aboutSteele? I've feared it this last hour. It was his look. That pierced me. Oh, I'd hate to be unjust. You say I wronged him, Russ? Then you takesides with him against my father?"

"Yes, " I replied very low. 

She was keenly hurt and seemed, despite an effort, to shrink from me. 

"It's only natural you should fight for your father, " I went on. "Perhaps you don't understand. He has ruled here for long. He'sbeen--well, let's say, easy with the evil-doers. But times are changing. He opposed the Ranger idea, which is also natural, I suppose. Still, he's wrong about Steele, terribly wrong, and it means trouble. "

"Oh, I don't know what to believe!"

"It might be well for you to think things out for yourself. "

"Russ, I feel as though I couldn't. I can't make head or tail of lifeout here. My father seems so strange. Though, of course, I've only seenhim twice a year since I was a little girl. He has two sides to him. When I come upon that strange side, the one I never knew, he's like aman I never saw. 

"I want to be a good and loving daughter. I want to help him fight hisbattles. But he doesn't--he doesn't _satisfy_ me. He's grown impatientand wants me to go back to Louisiana. That gives me a feeling ofmystery. Oh, it's _all_ mystery!"

"True, you're right, " I replied, my heart aching for her. "It's allmystery--and trouble for you, too. Perhaps you'd do well to go home. "

"Russ, you suggest I leave here--leave my father?" she asked. 

"I advise it. You struck a--a rather troublesome time. Later you mightreturn if--"

"Never. I came to stay, and I'll stay, " she declared, and there hertemper spoke. 

"Miss Sampson, " I began again, after taking a long, deep breath, "Iought to tell you one thing more about Steele. "

"Well, go on. "

"Doesn't he strike you now as being the farthest removed from a ranting, brutal Ranger?"

"I confess he was at least a gentleman. "

"Rangers don't allow anything to interfere with the discharge of theirduty. He was courteous after you defamed him. He respected your wish. Hedid not break up the dance. 

"This may not strike you particularly. But let me explain that Steelewas chasing an outlaw who had shot him. Under ordinary circumstances hewould have searched your house. He would have been like a lion. He wouldhave torn the place down around our ears to get that rustler. 

"But his action was so different from what I had expected, it amazed me. Just now, when I was with him, I learned, I guessed, what stayed hishand. I believe you ought to know. "

"Know what?" she asked. How starry and magnetic her eyes! A woman'sdivining intuition made them wonderful with swift-varying emotion. 

They drew me on to the fatal plunge. What was I doing to her--to Vaughn?Something bound my throat, making speech difficult. 

"He's fallen in love with you, " I hurried on in a husky voice. "Love atfirst sight! Terrible! Hopeless! I saw it--felt it. I can't explain howI know, but I do know. 

"That's what stayed his hand here. And that's why I'm on his side. He'salone. He has a terrible task here without any handicaps. Every man isagainst him. If he fails, you might be the force that weakened him. Soyou ought to be kinder in your thought of him. Wait before you judge himfurther. 

"If he isn't killed, time will prove him noble instead of vile. If he iskilled, which is more than likely, you'll feel the happier for agenerous doubt in favor of the man who loved you. "

Like one stricken blind, she stood an instant; then, with her hands ather breast, she walked straight across the patio into the dark, opendoor of her room. 

Chapter 5

CLEANING OUT LINROCK

Not much sleep visited me that night. In the morning, the young ladiesnot stirring and no prospects of duty for me, I rode down to town. 

Sight of the wide street, lined by its hitching posts and saddledhorses, the square buildings with their ugly signs, unfinished yet old, the lounging, dust-gray men at every corner--these awoke in me asignificance that had gone into oblivion overnight. 

That last talk with Miss Sampson had unnerved me, wrought strangely uponme. And afterward, waking and dozing, I had dreamed, lived in a warm, golden place where there were music and flowers and Sally's spritelikeform leading me on after two tall, beautiful lovers, Diane and Vaughn, walking hand in hand. 

Fine employment of mind for a Ranger whose single glance down a quietstreet pictured it with darkgarbed men in grim action, guns spoutingred, horses plunging!

In front of Hoden's restaurant I dismounted and threw my bridle. Jim wasunmistakably glad to see me. 

"Where've you been? Morton was in an' powerful set on seein' you. Isteered him from goin' up to Sampson's. What kind of a game was yougivin' Frank?"

"Jim, I just wanted to see if he was a safe rancher to make a stock dealfor me. "

"He says you told him he didn't have no yellow streak an' that he was arustler. Frank can't git over them two hunches. When he sees you he'sgoin' to swear he's no rustler, but he _has_ got a yellow streak, unless. .. "

This little, broken-down Texan had eyes like flint striking fire. 

"Unless?" I queried sharply. 

Jim breathed a deep breath and looked around the room before his gazefixed again on mine. 

"Wal, " he replied, speaking low, "Me and Frank allows you've picked theright men. It was me that sent them letters to the Ranger captain atAustin. Now who in hell are you?"

It was my turn to draw a deep breath. 

I had taken six weeks to strike fire from a Texan whom I instinctivelyfelt had been prey to the power that shadowed Linrock. There was no onein the room except us, no one passing, nor near. 

Reaching into the inside pocket of my buckskin vest, I turned the liningout. A star-shaped, bright, silver object flashed as I shoved it, pocketand all, under Jim's hard eyes. 

He could not help but read; United States Deputy Marshall. 

"By golly, " he whispered, cracking the table with his fist. "Russ, yousure rung true to me. But never as a cowboy!"

"Jim, the woods is full of us!"

Heavy footsteps sounded on the walk. Presently Steele's bulk darkenedthe door. 

"Hello, " I greeted. "Steele, shake hands with Jim Hoden. "

"Hello, " replied Steele slowly. "Say, I reckon I know Hoden. "

"Nit. Not this one. He's the old Hoden. He used to own the Hope Sosaloon. It was on the square when he ran it. Maybe he'll get it backpretty soon. Hope so!"

I laughed at my execrable pun. Steele leaned against the counter, hisgray glance studying the man I had so oddly introduced. 

Hoden in one flash associated the Ranger with me--a relation he had notdreamed of. Then, whether from shock or hope or fear I know not, heappeared about to faint. 

"Hoden, do you know who's boss of this secret gang of rustlershereabouts?" asked Steele bluntly. 

It was characteristic of him to come sharp to the point. His voice, something deep, easy, cool about him, seemed to steady Hoden. 

"No, " replied Hoden. 

"Does anybody know?" went on Steele. 

"Wal, I reckon there's not one honest native of Pecos who _knows_. "

"But you have your suspicions?"

"We have. "

"You can keep your suspicions to yourself. But you can give me your ideaabout this crowd that hangs round the saloons, the regulars. "

"Jest a bad lot, " replied Hoden, with the quick assurance of knowledge. "Most of them have been here years. Others have drifted in. Some of themwork odd times. They rustle a few steer, steal, rob, anythin' for alittle money to drink an' gamble. Jest a bad lot!

"But the strangers as are always comin' an' goin'--strangers that nevergit acquainted--some of them are likely to be _the_ rustlers. Bill an'Bo Snecker are in town now. Bill's a known cattle-thief. Bo's no good, the makin' of a gun-fighter. He heads thet way. 

"They might be rustlers. But the boy, he's hardly careful enough forthis gang. Then there's Jack Blome. He comes to town often. He lives upin the hills. He always has three or four strangers with him. Blome'sthe fancy gun fighter. He shot a gambler here last fall. Then he was ina fight in Sanderson lately. Got two cowboys then. 

"Blome's killed a dozen Pecos men. He's a rustler, too, but I reckonhe's not the brains of thet secret outfit, if he's in it at all. "

Steele appeared pleased with Hoden's idea. Probably it coincided withthe one he had arrived at himself. 

"Now, I'm puzzled over this, " said Steele. "Why do men, apparentlyhonest men, seem to be so close-mouthed here? Is that a fact or only myimpression?"

"It's sure a fact, " replied Hoden darkly. "Men have lost cattle an'property in Linrock--lost them honestly or otherwise, as hasn't beenproved. An' in some cases when they talked--hinted a little--they wasfound dead. Apparently held up an' robbed. But dead. Dead men don'ttalk. Thet's why we're close-mouthed. "

Steele's face wore a dark, somber sternness. 

Rustling cattle was not intolerable. Western Texas had gone onprospering, growing in spite of the horde of rustlers ranging its vaststretches; but this cold, secret, murderous hold on a little strugglingcommunity was something too strange, too terrible for men to stand long. 

It had waited for a leader like Steele, and now it could not last. Hoden's revived spirit showed that. 

The ranger was about to speak again when the clatter of hoofsinterrupted him. Horses halted out in front. 

A motion of Steele's hand caused me to dive through a curtained doorback of Hoden's counter. I turned to peep out and was in time to seeGeorge Wright enter with the red-headed cowboy called Brick. 

That was the first time I had ever seen Wright come into Hoden's. Hecalled for tobacco. 

If his visit surprised Jim he did not show any evidence. But Wrightshowed astonishment as he saw the Ranger, and then a dark glint flittedfrom the eyes that shifted from Steele to Hoden and back again. 

Steele leaned easily against the counter, and he said good morningpleasantly. Wright deigned no reply, although he bent a curious and hardscrutiny upon Steele. In fact, Wright evinced nothing that would leadone to think he had any respect for Steele as a man or as a Ranger. 

"Steele, that was the second break of yours last night, " he saidfinally. "If you come fooling round the ranch again there'll be hell!"

It seemed strange that a man who had lived west of the Pecos for tenyears could not see in Steele something which forbade that kind of talk. 

It certainly was not nerve Wright showed; men of courage were seldomintolerant; and with the matchless nerve that characterized Steele orthe great gunmen of the day there went a cool, unobtrusive manner, aspeech brief, almost gentle, certainly courteous. Wright was ahot-headed Louisianian of French extraction; a man evidently who hadnever been crossed in anything, and who was strong, brutal, passionate, which qualities, in the face of a situation like this, made him simply afool!

The way Steele looked at Wright was joy to me. I hated this smooth, dark-skinned Southerner. But, of course, an ordinary affront likeWright's only earned silence from Steele. 

"I'm thinking you used your Ranger bluff just to get near DianeSampson, " Wright sneered. "Mind you, if you come up there again there'llbe hell!"

"You're damn right there'll be hell!" retorted Steele, a kind of highring in his voice. I saw thick, dark red creep into his face. 

Had Wright's incomprehensible mention of Diane Sampson been an instinctof love--of jealousy? Verily, it had pierced into the depths of theRanger, probably as no other thrust could have. 

"Diane Sampson wouldn't stoop to know a dirty blood-tracker likeyou, " said Wright hotly. His was not a deliberate intention to rouseSteele; the man was simply rancorous. "I'll call you right, you cheapbluffer! You four-flush! You damned interfering conceited Ranger!"

Long before Wright ended his tirade Steele's face had lost the tinge ofcolor, so foreign to it in moments like this; and the cool shade, thesteady eyes like ice on fire, the ruthless lips had warned me, if theyhad not Wright. 

"Wright, I'll not take offense, because you seem to be championing yourbeautiful cousin, " replied Steele in slow speech, biting. "But let mereturn your compliment. You're a fine Southerner! Why, you're only acheap four-flush--damned bull-headed--_rustler_"

Steele hissed the last word. Then for him--for me--for Hoden--there wasthe truth in Wright's working passion-blackened face. 

Wright jerked, moved, meant to draw. But how slow! Steele lungedforward. His long arm swept up. 

And Wright staggered backward, knocking table and chairs, to fall hard, in a half-sitting posture, against the wall. 

"Don't draw!" warned Steele. 

"Wright, get away from your gun!" yelled the cowboy Brick. 

But Wright was crazed by fury. He tugged at his hip, his face cordedwith purple welts, malignant, murderous, while he got to his feet. 

I was about to leap through the door when Steele shot. Wright's gun wentringing to the floor. 

Like a beast in pain Wright screamed. Frantically he waved a limp arm, flinging blood over the white table-cloths. Steele had crippled him. 

"Here, you cowboy, " ordered Steele; "take him out, quick!"

Brick saw the need of expediency, if Wright did not realize it, and hepulled the raving man out of the place. He hurried Wright down thestreet, leaving the horses behind. 

Steele calmly sheathed his gun. 

"Well, I guess that opens the ball, " he said as I came out. 

Hoden seemed fascinated by the spots of blood on the table-cloths. Itwas horrible to see him rubbing his hands there like a ghoul!

"I tell you what, fellows, " said Steele, "we've just had a few pleasantmoments with the man who has made it healthy to keep close-mouthed inLinrock. "

Hoden lifted his shaking hands. 

"What'd you wing him for?" he wailed. "He was drawin' on you. Shootin'arms off men like him won't do out here. "

I was inclined to agree with Hoden. 

"That bull-headed fool will roar and butt himself with all his gangright into our hands. He's just the man I've needed to meet. Besides, shooting him would have been murder for me!"

"Murder!" exclaimed Hoden. 

"He was a fool, and slow at that. Under such circumstances could I killhim when I didn't have to?"

"Sure it'd been the trick. " declared Jim positively. "I'm not allowin'for whether he's really a rustler or not. It just won't do, becausethese fellers out here ain't goin' to be afraid of you. "

"See here, Hoden. If a man's going to be afraid of me at all, that trickwill make him more afraid of me. I know it. It works out. When Wrightcools down he'll remember, he'll begin to think, he'll realize that Icould more easily have killed him than risk a snapshot at his arm. I'llbet you he goes pale to the gills next time he even sees me. "

"That may be true, Steele. But if Wright's the man you think he is he'llbegin that secret underground bizness. It's been tolerable healthy theselast six months. You can gamble on this. If thet secret work doescommence you'll have more reason to suspect Wright. I won't feel verysafe from now on. 

"I heard you call him rustler. He knows thet. Why, Wright won't sleep atnight now. He an' Sampson have always been after me. "

"Hoden, what are your eyes for?" demanded Steele. "Watch out. And nowhere. See your friend Morton. Tell him this game grows hot. Together youapproach four or five men you know well and can absolutely trust. 

"Hello, there's somebody coming. You meet Russ and me to-night, out inthe open a quarter of a mile, straight from the end of this street. You'll find a pile of stones. Meet us there to-night at ten o'clock. "

The next few days, for the several hours each day that I was in town, Ihad Steele in sight all the time or knew that he was safe under cover. 

Nothing happened. His presence in the saloons or any place where mencongregated was marked by a certain uneasy watchfulness on the part ofalmost everybody, and some amusement on the part of a few. 

It was natural to suppose that the lawless element would rise up in amass and slay Steele on sight. But this sort of thing never happened. Itwas not so much that these enemies of the law awaited his next move, butjust a slowness peculiar to the frontier. 

The ranger was in their midst. He was interesting, if formidable. Hewould have been welcomed at card tables, at the bars, to play and drinkwith the men who knew they were under suspicion. 

There was a rude kind of good humor even in their open hostility. 

Besides, one Ranger, or a company of Rangers could not have held theundivided attention of these men from their games and drinks andquarrels except by some decided move. Excitement, greed, appetite wererife in them. 

I marked, however, a striking exception to the usual run of strangers Ihad been in the habit of seeing. The Sneckers had gone or were undercover. Again I caught a vague rumor of the coming of Jack Blome, yet henever seemed to arrive. 

Moreover, the goings-on among the habitues of the resorts and thecowboys who came in to drink and gamble were unusually mild incomparison with former conduct. 

This lull, however, did not deceive Steele and me. It could not last. The wonder was that it had lasted so long. 

There was, of course, no post office in Linrock. A stage arrived twicea week from Sanderson, if it did not get held up on the way, and thedriver usually had letters, which he turned over to the elderly keeperof a little store. 

This man's name was Jones, and everybody liked him. On the evenings thestage arrived there was always a crowd at his store, which fact was asource of no little revenue to him. 

One night, so we ascertained, after the crowd had dispersed, two thugsentered his store, beat the old man and robbed him. He made nocomplaint; however, when Steele called him he rather reluctantly gavenot only descriptions of his assailants, but their names. 

Steele straightaway went in search of the men and came across them inLerett's place. I was around when it happened. 

Steele strode up to a table which was surrounded by seven or eight menand he tapped Sim Bass on the shoulder. 

"Get up, I want you, " he said. 

Bass looked up only to see who had accosted him. 

"The hell you say!" he replied impudently. 

Steele's big hand shifted to the fellow's collar. One jerk, seemingly noeffort at all, sent Bass sliding, chair and all, to crash into the barand fall in a heap. He lay there, wondering what had struck him. 

"Miller, I want you. Get up, " said Steele. 

Miller complied with alacrity. A sharp kick put more life andunderstanding into Bass. 

Then Steele searched these men right before the eyes of their comrades, took what money and weapons they had, and marched them out, followed bya crowd that gathered more and more to it as they went down the street. Steele took his prisoners into Jones' store, had them identified;returned the money they had stolen, and then, pushing the two throughthe gaping crowd, he marched them down to his stone jail and locked themup. 

Obviously the serious side of this incident was entirely lost upon thehighly entertained audience. Many and loud were the coarse jokes crackedat the expense of Bass and Miller and after the rude door had closedupon them similar remarks were addressed to Steele's jailer and guard, who in truth, were just as disreputable looking as their prisoners. 

Then the crowd returned to their pastimes, leaving their erstwhilecomrades to taste the sweets of prison life. 

When I got a chance I asked Steele if he could rely on his hired hands, and with a twinkle in his eye which surprised me as much as his reply, he said Miller and Bass would have flown the coop before morning. 

He was right. When I reached the lower end of town next morning, thesame old crowd, enlarged by other curious men and youths, had come topay their respects to the new institution. 

Jailer and guard were on hand, loud in their proclamations andexplanations. Naturally they had fallen asleep, as all other hardworking citizens had, and while they slept the prisoners made a holesomewhere and escaped. 

Steele examined the hole, and then engaged a stripling of a youth to seeif he could crawl through. The youngster essayed the job, stuck in themiddle, and was with difficulty extricated. 

Whereupon the crowd evinced its delight. 

Steele, without more ado, shoved his jailer and guard inside his jail, deliberately closed, barred and chained the iron bolted door, and putthe key in his pocket. Then he remained there all day without givingheed to his prisoners' threats. 

Toward evening, having gone without drink infinitely longer than wascustomary, they made appeals, to which Steele was deaf. 

He left the jail, however, just before dark, and when we met he told meto be on hand to help him watch that night. We went around the outskirtsof town, carrying two heavy double-barreled shotguns Steele had gottensomewhere and taking up a position behind bushes in the lot adjoiningthe jail; we awaited developments. 

Steele was not above paying back these fellows. 

All the early part of the evening, gangs of half a dozen men or morecame down the street and had their last treat at the expense of the jailguard and jailer. These prisoners yelled for drink--not water but drink, and the more they yelled the more merriment was loosed upon the nightair. 

About ten o'clock the last gang left, to the despair of the hungry andthirsty prisoners. 

Steele and I had hugely enjoyed the fun, and thought the best part ofthe joke for us was yet to come. The moon had arisen, and thoughsomewhat hazed by clouds, had lightened the night. We were hidden aboutsixty paces from the jail, a little above it, and we had a fine commandof the door. 

About eleven o'clock, when all was still, we heard soft steps back ofthe jail, and soon two dark forms stole round in front. They laid downsomething that gave forth a metallic clink, like a crowbar. We heardwhisperings and then, low, coarse laughs. 

Then the rescuers, who undoubtedly were Miller and Bass, set to work toopen the door. Softly they worked at first, but as that door had beenput there to stay, and they were not fond of hard work, they began toswear and make noises. 

Steele whispered to me to wait until the door had been opened, and thenwhen all four presented a good target, to fire both barrels. We couldeasily have slipped down and captured the rescuers, but that was notSteele's game. 

A trick met by a trick; cunning matching craft would be the surest ofall ways to command respect. 

Four times the workers had to rest, and once they were so enraged at theinsistence of the prisoners, who wanted to delay proceedings to send oneof them after a bottle, that they swore they would go away and cut thejob altogether. 

But they were prevailed upon to stay and attack the stout door oncemore. Finally it yielded, with enough noise to have awakened sleepers ablock distant, and forth into the moonlight came rescuers and rescuedwith low, satisfied grunts of laughter. 

Just then Steele and I each discharged both barrels, and the reportsblended as one in a tremendous boom. 

That little compact bunch disintegrated like quicksilver. Two stumbledover; the others leaped out, and all yelled in pain and terror. Then thefallen ones scrambled up and began to hobble and limp and jerk alongafter their comrades. 

Before the four of them got out of sight they had ceased their yells, but were moving slowly, hanging on to one another in a way thatsatisfied us they would be lame for many a day. 

Next morning at breakfast Dick regaled me with an elaborate story abouthow the Ranger had turned the tables on the jokers. Evidently in a nightthe whole town knew it. 

Probably a desperate stand of Steele's even to the extreme of killingmen, could not have educated these crude natives so quickly into therealization that the Ranger was not to be fooled with. 

That morning I went for a ride with the girls, and both had heardsomething and wanted to know everything. I had become a news-carrier, and Miss Sampson never thought of questioning me in regard to my fund ofinformation. 

She showed more than curiosity. The account I gave of the jail affairamused her and made Sally laugh heartily. 

Diane questioned me also about a rumor that had come to her concerningGeorge Wright. 

He had wounded himself with a gun, it seemed, and though not seriouslyinjured, was not able to go about. He had not been up to the ranch fordays. 

"I asked papa about him, " said, Diane, "and papa laughed like--well, like a regular hyena. I was dumbfounded. Papa's so queer. He lookedthunder-clouds at me. 

"When I insisted, for I wanted to know, he ripped out: 'Yes, the damnfool got himself shot, and I'm sorry it's not worse. '

"Now, Russ, what do you make of my dad? Cheerful and kind, isn't he?"

I laughed with Sally, but I disclaimed any knowledge of George'saccident. I hated the thought of Wright, let alone anything concerningthe fatal certainty that sooner or later these cousins of his were tosuffer through him. 

Sally did not make these rides easy for me, for she was sweeter thananything that has a name. Since the evening of the dance I had tried toavoid her. Either she was sincerely sorry for her tantrum or she wasbent upon utterly destroying my peace. 

I took good care we were never alone, for in that case, if she ever gotinto my arms again I would find the ground slipping from under me. 

Despite, however, the wear and constant strain of resisting Sally, Ienjoyed the ride. There was a charm about being with these girls. 

Then perhaps Miss Sampson's growing unconscious curiosity in regard toSteele was no little satisfaction to me. 

I pretended a reluctance to speak of the Ranger, but when I did it wasto drop a subtle word or briefly tell of an action that suggested such. 

I never again hinted the thing that had been such a shock to her. Whatwas in her mind I could not guess; her curiosity, perhaps the greaterpart, was due to a generous nature not entirely satisfied with itself. She probably had not abandoned her father's estimate of the Ranger butabsolute assurance that this was just did not abide with her. For therest she was like any other girl, a worshipper of the lion in a man, aweaver of romance, ignorant of her own heart. 

Not the least talked of and speculated upon of all the details of thejail incident was the part played by Storekeeper Jones, who had informedupon his assailants. Steele and I both awaited results of thissignificant fact. 

When would the town wake up, not only to a little nerve, but to theusefulness of a Ranger?

Three days afterward Steele told me a woman accosted him on the street. She seemed a poor, hardworking person, plain spoken and honest. 

Her husband did not drink enough to complain of, but he liked to gambleand he had been fleeced by a crooked game in Jack Martin's saloon. Otherwives could make the same complaints. It was God's blessing for suchwomen that Ranger Steele had come to Linrock. 

Of course, he could not get back the lost money, but would it bepossible to close Martin's place, or at least break up the crooked game?

Steele had asked this woman, whose name was Price, how much her husbandhad lost, and, being told, he assured her that if he found evidence ofcheating, not only would he get back the money, but also he would shutup Martin's place. 

Steele instructed me to go that night to the saloon in question and getin the game. I complied, and, in order not to be overcarefully sized upby the dealer, I pretended to be well under the influence of liquor. 

By nine o'clock, when Steele strolled in, I had the game well studied, and a more flagrantly crooked one I had never sat in. It was barefacedrobbery. 

Steele and I had agreed upon a sign from me, because he was not so adeptin the intricacies of gambling as I was. I was not in a hurry, however, for there was a little frecklefaced cattleman in the game, and he hadbeen losing, too. He had sold a bunch of stock that day and hadconsiderable money, which evidently he was to be deprived of before hegot started for Del Rio. 

Steele stood at our backs, and I could feel his presence. He thrilledme. He had some kind of effect on the others, especially the dealer, whowas honest enough while the Ranger looked on. 

When, however, Steele shifted his attention to other tables and playersour dealer reverted to his crooked work. I was about to make adisturbance, when the little cattleman, leaning over, fire in his eyeand gun in hand, made it for me. 

Evidently he was a keener and nervier gambler than he had been takenfor. There might have been gun-play right then if Steele had notinterfered. 

"Hold on!" he yelled, leaping for our table. "Put up your gun!"

"Who are you?" demanded the cattleman, never moving. "Better keep out ofthis. "

"I'm Steele. Put up your gun. "

"You're thet Ranger, hey?" replied the other. "All right! But just aminute. I want this dealer to sit quiet. I've been robbed. And I want mymoney back. "

Certainly the dealer and everyone else round the table sat quiet whilethe cattleman coolly held his gun leveled. 

"Crooked game?" asked Steele, bending over the table. "Show me. "

It did not take the aggrieved gambler more than a moment to prove hisassertion. Steele, however, desired corroboration from others beside thecattleman, and one by one he questioned them. 

To my surprise, one of the players admitted his conviction that the gamewas not straight. 

"What do you say?" demanded Steele of me. 

"Worse'n a hold-up, Mr. Ranger, " I burst out. "Let me show you. "

Deftly I made the dealer's guilt plain to all, and then I seconded thecattleman's angry claim for lost money. The players from other tablesgathered round, curious, muttering. 

And just then Martin strolled in. His appearance was not prepossessing. 

"What's this holler?" he asked, and halted as he saw the cattleman's gunstill in line with the dealer. 

"Martin, you know what it's for, " replied Steele. "Take your dealer anddig--unless you want to see me clean out your place. "

Sullen and fierce, Martin stood looking from Steele to the cattlemanand then the dealer. Some men in the crowd muttered, and that was asignal for Steele to shove the circle apart and get out, back to thewall. 

The cattleman rose slowly in the center, pulling another gun, and hecertainly looked business to me. 

"Wal, Ranger, I reckon I'll hang round an' see you ain't bothered none, "he said. "Friend, " he went on, indicating me with a slight wave of oneextended gun, "jest rustle the money in sight. We'll square up after theshow. "

I reached out and swept the considerable sum toward me, and, pocketingit, I too rose, ready for what might come. 

"You-all give me elbow room!" yelled Steele at Martin and his cowedcontingent. 

Steele looked around, evidently for some kind of implement, and, espyinga heavy ax in a corner, he grasped it, and, sweeping it to and fro as ifit had been a buggy-whip, he advanced on the faro layout. The crowd fellback, edging toward the door. 

One crashing blow wrecked the dealer's box and table, sending themsplintering among the tumbled chairs. Then the giant Ranger began tospread further ruin about him. 

Martin's place was rough and bare, of the most primitive order, and likea thousand other dens of its kind, consisted of a large room with adobewalls, a rude bar of boards, piles of kegs in a corner, a stove, and afew tables with chairs. 

Steele required only one blow for each article he struck, and hedemolished it. He stove in the head of each keg. 

When the dark liquor gurgled out, Martin cursed, and the crowd followedsuit. That was a loss!

The little cattleman, holding the men covered, backed them out of theroom, Martin needing a plain, stern word to put him out entirely. I wentout, too, for I did not want to miss any moves on the part of that gang. 

Close behind me came the cattleman, the kind of cool, nervy Texan Iliked. He had Martin well judged, too, for there was no evidence of anybold resistance. 

But there were shouts and loud acclamations; and these, with thecrashing blows of Steele's ax, brought a curious and growing addition tothe crowd. 

Soon sodden thuds from inside the saloon and red dust pouring out thedoor told that Steele was attacking the walls of Martin's place. Thoseadobe bricks when old and crumbly were easily demolished. 

Steele made short work of the back wall, and then he smashed out half ofthe front of the building. That seemed to satisfy him. 

When he stepped out of the dust he was wet with sweat, dirty, anddisheveled, hot with his exertion--a man whose great stature andmuscular development expressed a wonderful physical strength and energy. And his somber face, with the big gray eyes, like open furnaces, expressed a passion equal to his strength. 

Perhaps only then did wild and lawless Linrock grasp the realsignificance of this Ranger. 

Steele threw the ax at Martin's feet. 

"Martin, don't reopen here, " he said curtly. "Don't start another placein Linrock. If you do--jail at Austin for years. "

Martin, livid and scowling, yet seemingly dazed with what had occurred, slunk away, accompanied by his cronies. Steele took the money I hadappropriated, returned to me what I had lost, did likewise with thecattleman, and then, taking out the sum named by Mrs. Price, he dividedthe balance with the other players who had been in the game. 

Then he stalked off through the crowd as if he knew that men who slunkfrom facing him would not have nerve enough to attack him even frombehind. 

"Wal, damn me!" ejaculated the little cattleman in mingled admirationand satisfaction. "So thet's that Texas Ranger, Steele, hey? Never seenhim before. All Texas, thet Ranger!"

I lingered downtown as much to enjoy the sensation as to gain thedifferent points of view. 

No doubt about the sensation! In one hour every male resident ofLinrock and almost every female had viewed the wreck of Martin's place. A fire could not have created half the excitement. 

And in that excitement both men and women gave vent to speech they mightnot have voiced at a calmer moment. The women, at least, were not afraidto talk, and I made mental note of the things they said. 

"Did he do it all alone?"

"Thank God a _man's_ come to Linrock. "

"Good for Molly Price!"

"Oh, it'll make bad times for Linrock. "

It almost seemed that all the women were glad, and this was in itself avindication of the Ranger's idea of law. 

The men, however--Blandy, proprietor of the Hope So, and others of hisilk, together with the whole brood of idle gaming loungers, and in facteven storekeepers, ranchers, cowboys--all shook their heads sullenly ordoubtfully. 

Striking indeed now was the absence of any joking. Steele had showed hishand, and, as one gambler said: "It's a hard hand to call. "

The truth was, this Ranger Service was hateful to the free-and-easyTexan who lived by anything except hard and honest work, and it wasdamnably hateful to the lawless class. Steele's authority, now obviousto all, was unlimited; it could go as far as he had power to carry it. 

From present indications that power might be considerable. The work ofnative sheriffs and constables in western Texas had been a farce, anutter failure. If an honest native of a community undertook to be asheriff he became immediately a target for rowdy cowboys and othervicious elements. 

Many a town south and west of San Antonio owed its peace and prosperityto Rangers, and only to them. They had killed or driven out thecriminals. They interpreted the law for themselves, and it was only suchan attitude toward law--the stern, uncompromising, implacableextermination of the lawless--that was going to do for all Texas what ithad done for part. 

Steele was the driving wedge that had begun to split Linrock--split thehonest from dominance by the dishonest. To be sure, Steele might bekilled at any moment, and that contingency was voiced in the growl ofone sullen man who said: "Wot the hell are we up against? Ain't somebodygoin' to plug this Ranger?"

It was then that the thing for which Steele stood, the RangerService--to help, to save, to defend, to punish, with such somber menaceof death as seemed embodied in his cold attitude toward resistance--tookhold of Linrock and sunk deep into both black and honest hearts. 

It was what was behind Steele that seemed to make him more than anofficer--a man. 

I could feel how he began to loom up, the embodiment of a powerfulforce--the Ranger Service--the fame of which, long known to this lawlessPecos gang, but scouted as a vague and distant thing, now became anactuality, a Ranger in the flesh, whose surprising attributes includedboth the law and the enforcement of it. 

When I reached the ranch the excitement had preceded me. Miss Sampsonand Sally, both talking at once, acquainted me with the fact that theyhad been in a store on the main street a block or more from Martin'splace. 

They had seen the crowd, heard the uproar; and, as they had beenhurriedly started toward home by their attendant Dick, they hadencountered Steele stalking by. 

"He looked grand!" exclaimed Sally. 

Then I told the girls the whole story in detail. 

"Russ, is it true, just as you tell it?" inquired Diane earnestly. 

"Absolutely. I know Mrs. Price went to Steele with her trouble. I was inMartin's place when he entered. Also I was playing in the crooked game. And I saw him wreck Martin's place. Also, I heard him forbid Martin tostart another place in Linrock. "

"Then he does do splendid things, " she said softly, as if affirming toherself. 

I walked on then, having gotten a glimpse of Colonel Sampson in thebackground. Before I reached the corrals Sally came running after me, quite flushed and excited. 

"Russ, my uncle wants to see you, " she said. "He's in a bad temper. Don't lose yours, please. "

She actually took my hand. What a child she was, in all ways except thatfatal propensity to flirt. Her statement startled me out of any furtherthought of her. Why did Sampson want to see me? He never noticed me. Idreaded facing him--not from fear, but because I must see more and moreof the signs of guilt in Diane's father. 

He awaited me on the porch. As usual, he wore riding garb, but evidentlyhe had not been out so far this day. He looked worn. There was a furtiveshadow in his eyes. The haughty, imperious temper, despite Sally'sconviction, seemed to be in abeyance. 

"Russ, what's this I hear about Martin's saloon being cleaned out?" heasked. "Dick can't give particulars. "

Briefly and concisely I told the colonel exactly what had happened. Hechewed his cigar, then spat it out with an unintelligible exclamation. 

"Martin's no worse than others, " he said. "Blandy leans to crooked faro. I've tried to stop that, anyway. If Steele can, more power to him!"

Sampson turned on his heel then and left me with a queer feeling ofsurprise and pity. 

He had surprised me before, but he had never roused the least sympathy. It was probably that Sampson was indeed powerless, no matter what hisposition. 

I had known men before who had become involved in crime, yet were toomanly to sanction a crookedness they could not help. 

Miss Sampson had been standing in her door. I could tell she had heard;she looked agitated. I knew she had been talking to her father. 

"Russ, he hates the Ranger, " she said. "That's what I fear. It'll bringtrouble on us. Besides, like everybody here, he's biased. He can't seeanything good in Steele. Yet he says: 'More power to him!' I'mmystified, and, oh, I'm between two fires!"

 * * * * *

Steele's next noteworthy achievement was as new to me as it was strangeto Linrock. I heard a good deal about it from my acquaintances, somelittle from Steele, and the concluding incident I saw and heard myself. 

Andy Vey was a broken-down rustler whose activity had ceased and whospent his time hanging on at the places frequented by younger and bettermen of his kind. As he was a parasite, he was often thrown out of thedens. 

Moreover, it was an open secret that he had been a rustler, and the menwith whom he associated had not yet, to most of Linrock, become known assuch. 

One night Vey had been badly beaten in some back room of a saloon andcarried out into a vacant lot and left there. He lay there all thatnight and all the next day. Probably he would have died there had notSteele happened along. 

The Ranger gathered up the crippled rustler, took him home, attended tohis wounds, nursed him, and in fact spent days in the little adobe housewith him. 

During this time I saw Steele twice, at night out in our rendezvous. Hehad little to communicate, but was eager to hear when I had seen JimHoden, Morton, Wright, Sampson, and all I could tell about them, and thesignificance of things in town. 

Andy Vey recovered, and it was my good fortune to be in the Hope So whenhe came in and addressed a crowd of gamesters there. 

"Fellers, " he said, "I'm biddin' good-by to them as was once my friends. I'm leavin' Linrock. An' I'm askin' some of you to take thet good-by an'a partin' word to them as did me dirt. 

"I ain't a-goin' to say if I'd crossed the trail of this Ranger yearsago thet I'd of turned round an' gone straight. But mebbe Iwould--mebbe. There's a hell of a lot a man doesn't know till too late. I'm old now, ready fer the bone pile, an' it doesn't matter. But I'vegot a head on me yet, an' I want to give a hunch to thet gang who doneme. An' that hunch wants to go around an' up to the big guns of Pecos. 

"This Texas Star Ranger was the feller who took me in. I'd of died likea poisoned coyote but fer him. An' he talked to me. He gave me money togit out of Pecos. Mebbe everybody'll think he helped me because hewanted me to squeal. To squeal who's who round these rustler diggin's. Wal, he never asked me. Mebbe he seen I wasn't a squealer. But I'mthinkin' he wouldn't ask a feller thet nohow. 

"An' here's my hunch. Steele has spotted the outfit. Thet ain't so much, mebbe. But I've been with him, an' I'm old figgerin' men. Jest as sureas God made little apples he's a goin' to put thet outfit through--orhe's a-goin' to kill them!"

Chapter 6

ENTER JACK BLOME

Strange that the narrating of this incident made Diane Sampson unhappy. 

When I told her she exhibited one flash of gladness, such as any womanmight have shown for a noble deed and then she became thoughtful, almostgloomy, sad. I could not understand her complex emotions. Perhaps shecontrasted Steele with her father; perhaps she wanted to believe inSteele and dared not; perhaps she had all at once seen the Ranger in histrue light, and to her undoing. 

She bade me take Sally for a ride and sought her room. I had mymisgivings when I saw Sally come out in that trim cowgirl suit and lookat me as if to say this day would be my Waterloo. 

But she rode hard and long ahead of me before she put any machinationsinto effect. The first one found me with a respectful demeanor but aninternal conflict. 

"Russ, tighten my cinch, " she said when I caught up with her. 

Dismounting, I drew the cinch up another hole and fastened it. 

"My boot's unlaced, too, " she added, slipping a shapely foot out of thestirrup. 

To be sure, it was very much unlaced. I had to take off my gloves tolace it up, and I did it heroically, with bent head and outward calm, when all the time I was mad to snatch the girl out of the saddle andhold her tight or run off with her or do some other fool thing. 

"Russ, I believe Diane's in love with Steele, " she said soberly, withthe sweet confidence she sometimes manifested in me. 

"Small wonder. It's in the air, " I replied. 

She regarded me doubtfully. 

"It was, " she retorted demurely. 

"The fickleness of women is no new thing to me. I didn't expect Watersto last long. "

"Certainly not when there are nicer fellows around. One, anyway, when hecares. "

A little brown hand slid out of its glove and dropped to my shoulder. 

"Make up. You've been hateful lately. Make up with me. "

It was not so much what she said as the sweet tone of her voice and thenearness of her that made a tumult within me. I felt the blood tingle tomy face. 

"Why should I make up with you?" I queried in self defense. "You areonly flirting. You won't--you can't ever be anything to me, really. "

Sally bent over me and I had not the nerve to look up. 

"Never mind things--really, " she replied. "The future's far off. Let italone. We're together. I--I like you, Russ. And I've got to be--to beloved. There. I never confessed that to any other man. You've beenhateful when we might have had such fun. The rides in the sun, in theopen with the wind in our faces. The walks at night in the moonlight. Russ, haven't you missed something?"

The sweetness and seductiveness of her, the little luring devil of her, irresistible as they were, were no more irresistible than thenaturalness, the truth of her. 

I trembled even before I looked up into her flushed face and arch eyes;and after that I knew if I could not frighten her out of this daringmood I would have to yield despite my conviction that she only trifled. As my manhood, as well as duty to Steele, forced me to be unyielding, all that was left seemed to be to frighten her. 

The instant this was decided a wave of emotion--love, regret, bitterness, anger--surged over me, making me shake. I felt the skin onmy face tighten and chill. I grasped her with strength that might haveneed to hold a plunging, unruly horse. I hurt her. I held her as in avise. 

And the action, the feel of her, her suddenly uttered cry wroughtagainst all pretense, hurt me as my brutality hurt her, and then I spokewhat was hard, passionate truth. 

"Girl, you're playing with fire!" I cried out hoarsely. "I loveyou--love you as I'd want my sister loved. I asked you to marry me. Thatwas proof, if it was foolish. Even if you were on the square, whichyou're not, we couldn't ever be anything to each other. Understand?There's a reason, besides your being above me. I can't stand it. Stopplaying with me or I'll--I'll. .. "

Whatever I meant to say was not spoken, for Sally turned deathly white, probably from my grasp and my looks as well as my threat. 

I let go of her, and stepping back to my horse choked down my emotion. 

"Russ!" she faltered, and there was womanliness and regret tremblingwith the fear in her voice. "I--I am on the square. "

That had touched the real heart of the girl. 

"If you are, then play the game square, " I replied darkly. 

"I will, Russ, I promise. I'll never tease or coax you again. If I do, then I'll deserve what you--what I get. But, Russ, don't think me a--afour-flush. "

All the long ride home we did not exchange another word. The travelinggait of Sally's horse was a lope, that of mine a trot; and therefore, tomy relief, she was always out in front. 

As we neared the ranch, however, Sally slowed down until I caught upwith her; and side by side we rode the remainder of the way. At thecorrals, while I unsaddled, she lingered. 

"Russ, you didn't tell me if you agreed with me about Diane, " she saidfinally. 

"Maybe you're right. I hope she's fallen in love with Steele. Lord knowsI hope so, " I blurted out. 

I bit my tongue. There was no use in trying to be as shrewd with womenas I was with men. I made no reply. 

"Misery loves company. Maybe that's why, " she added. "You told me Steelelost his head over Diane at first sight. Well, we all have company. Goodnight, Russ. "

That night I told Steele about the singular effect the story of histreatment of Vey had upon Miss Sampson. He could not conceal hisfeelings. I read him like an open book. 

If she was unhappy because he did something really good, then she wasunhappy because she was realizing she had wronged him. 

Steele never asked questions, but the hungry look in his eyes was enoughto make even a truthful fellow exaggerate things. 

I told him how Diane was dressed, how her face changed with eachemotion, how her eyes burned and softened and shadowed, how her voicehad been deep and full when she admitted her father hated him, how muchshe must have meant when she said she was between two fires. I divinedhow he felt and I tried to satisfy in some little measure his cravingfor news of her. 

When I had exhausted my fund and stretched my imagination I was rewardedby being told that I was a regular old woman for gossip. 

Much taken back by this remarkable statement I could but gape at mycomrade. Irritation had followed shortly upon his curiosity andpleasure, and then the old sane mind reasserted itself, the old sternlook, a little sad now, replaced the glow, the strange eagerness ofyouth on his face. 

"Son, I beg your pardon, " he said, with his hand on my shoulder. "We'reRangers, but we can't help being human. To speak right out, it seems twosweet and lovable girls have come, unfortunately for us all, across thedark trail we're on. Let us find what solace we can in the hope thatsomehow, God only knows how, in doing our duty as Rangers we may yet bedoing right by these two innocent girls. I ask you, as my friend, pleasedo not speak again to me of--Miss Sampson. "

I left him and went up the quiet trail with the thick shadows all aroundme and the cold stars overhead; and I was sober in thought, sick atheart for him as much as for myself, and I tortured my mind in fruitlessconjecture as to what the end of this strange and fateful adventurewould be. 

I discovered that less and less the old wild spirit abided with me and Ibecome conscious of a dull, deep-seated ache in my breast, a pang in thebone. 

From that day there was a change in Diane Sampson. She became feverishlyactive. She wanted to ride, to see for herself what was going on inLinrock, to learn of that wild Pecos county life at first hand. 

She made such demands on my time now that I scarcely ever found an hourto be with or near Steele until after dark. However, as he was playing awaiting game on the rustlers, keeping out of the resorts for thepresent, I had not great cause for worry. Hoden was slowly gathering mentogether, a band of trustworthy ones, and until this organization wascomplete and ready, Steele thought better to go slow. 

It was of little use for me to remonstrate with Miss Sampson when sherefused to obey a distracted and angry father. I began to feel sorry forSampson. He was an unscrupulous man, but he loved this daughter whobelonged to another and better and past side of his life. 

I heard him appeal to her to go back to Louisiana; to let him take herhome, giving as urgent reason the probability of trouble for him. Shecould not help, could only handicap him. 

She agreed to go, provided he sold his property, took the best of hishorses and went with her back to the old home to live there the rest oftheir lives. He replied with considerable feeling that he wished hecould go, but it was impossible. Then that settled the matter for her, she averred. 

Failing to persuade her to leave Linrock, he told her to keep to theranch. Naturally, in spite of his anger, Miss Sampson refused to obey;and she frankly told him that it was the free, unfettered life of thecountry, the riding here and there that appealed so much to her. 

Sampson came to me a little later and his worn face showed traces ofinternal storm. 

"Russ, for a while there I wanted to get rid of you, " he said. "I'vechanged. Diane always was a spoiled kid. Now she's a woman. Something'sfired her blood. Maybe it's this damned wild country. Anyway, she's gotthe bit between her teeth. She'll run till she's run herself out. 

"Now, it seems the safety of Diane, and Sally, too, has fallen into yourhands. The girls won't have one of my cowboys near them. Lately they'vegot shy of George, too. Between you and me I want to tell you thatconditions here in Pecos are worse than they've seemed since you-allreached the ranch. But bad work will break out again--it's coming soon. 

"I can't stop it. The town will be full of the hardest gang in westernTexas. My daughter and Sally would not be safe if left alone to goanywhere. With you, perhaps, they'll be safe. Can I rely on you?"

"Yes, Sampson, you sure can, " I replied. "I'm on pretty good terms withmost everybody in town. I think I can say none of the tough set who hangout down there would ever made any move while I'm with the girls. ButI'll be pretty careful to avoid them, and particularly strange fellowswho may come riding in. 

"And if any of them do meet us and start trouble, I'm going for my gun, that's all. There won't be any talk. "

"Good! I'll back you, " Sampson replied. "Understand, Russ, I didn't wantyou here, but I always had you sized up as a pretty hard nut, a man notto be trifled with. You've got a bad name. Diane insists the name's notdeserved. She'd trust you with herself under any circumstances. And thekid, Sally, she'd be fond of you if it wasn't for the drink. Have youbeen drunk a good deal? Straight now, between you and me. "

"Not once, " I replied. 

"George's a liar then. He's had it in for you since that day atSanderson. Look out you two don't clash. He's got a temper, and whenhe's drinking he's a devil. Keep out of his way. "

"I've stood a good deal from Wright, and guess I can stand more. "

"All right, Russ, " he continued, as if relieved. "Chuck the drink andcards for a while and keep an eye on the girls. When my affairsstraighten out maybe I'll make you a proposition. "

Sampson left me material for thought. Perhaps it was not only thepresence of a Ranger in town that gave him concern, nor the wilfulnessof his daughter. There must be internal strife in the rustler gang withwhich we had associated him. 

Perhaps a menace of publicity, rather than risk, was the cause of thewearing strain on him. I began to get a closer insight into Sampson, andin the absence of any conclusive evidence of his personal baseness Ifelt pity for him. 

In the beginning he had opposed me just because I did not happen to be acowboy he had selected. This latest interview with me, amounting in someinstances to confidence, proved absolutely that he had not the slightestsuspicion that I was otherwise than the cowboy I pretended to be. 

Another interesting deduction was that he appeared to be out of patiencewith Wright. In fact, I imagined I sensed something of fear and distrustin this spoken attitude toward his relative. Not improbably here was theinternal strife between Sampson and Wright, and there flashed into mymind, absolutely without reason, an idea that the clash was over DianeSampson. 

I scouted this intuitive idea as absurd; but, just the same, it refusedto be dismissed. 

As I turned my back on the coarse and exciting life in the saloons andgambling hells, and spent all my time except when sleeping, out in thewindy open under blue sky and starry heaven, my spirit had an uplift. 

I was glad to be free of that job. It was bad enough to have to go intothese dens to arrest men, let alone living with them, almost being one. 

Diane Sampson noted a change in me, attributed it to the absence of theinfluence of drink, and she was glad. Sally made no attempt to concealher happiness; and to my dismay, she utterly failed to keep her promisenot to tease or tempt me further. 

She was adorable, distracting. 

We rode every day and almost all day. We took our dinner and went clearto the foothills to return as the sun set. We visited outlying ranches, water-holes, old adobe houses famous in one way or another as scenes ofpast fights of rustlers and ranchers. 

We rode to the little village of Sampson, and half-way to Sanderson, andall over the country. 

There was no satisfying Miss Sampson with rides, new places, new faces, new adventures. And every time we rode out she insisted on first ridingthrough Linrock; and every time we rode home she insisted on going backthat way. 

We visited all the stores, the blacksmith, the wagon shop, the feed andgrain houses--everywhere that she could find excuse for visiting. I hadto point out to her all the infamous dens in town, and all the lawlessand lounging men we met. 

She insisted upon being shown the inside of the Hope So, to the extremeconfusion of that bewildered resort. 

I pretended to be blind to this restless curiosity. Sally understood thecause, too, and it divided her between a sweet gravity and a naughtyhumor. 

The last, however, she never evinced in sight or hearing of Diane. 

It seemed that we were indeed fated to cross the path of Vaughn Steele. We saw him working round his adobe house; then we saw him on horseback. Once we met him face to face in a store. 

He gazed steadily into Diane Sampson's eyes and went his way without anysign of recognition. There was red in her face when he passed and whitewhen he had gone. 

That day she rode as I had never seen her, risking her life, unmindfulof her horse. 

Another day we met Steele down in the valley, where, inquiry discoveredto us, he had gone to the home of an old cattleman who lived alone andwas ill. 

Last and perhaps most significant of all these meetings was the one whenwe were walking tired horses home through the main street of Linrock andcame upon Steele just in time to see him in action. 

It happened at a corner where the usual slouchy, shirt-sleeved loungerswere congregated. They were in high glee over the predicament of oneruffian who had purchased or been given a poor, emaciated little burrothat was on his last legs. The burro evidently did not want to go withits new owner, who pulled on a halter and then viciously swung the endof the rope to make welts on the worn and scarred back. 

If there was one thing that Diane Sampson could not bear it was to seean animal in pain. She passionately loved horses, and hated the sight ofa spur or whip. 

When we saw the man beating the little burro she cried out to me:

"Make the brute stop!"

I might have made a move had I not on the instant seen Steele heavinginto sight round the corner. 

Just then the fellow, whom I now recognized to be a despicable characternamed Andrews, began to bestow heavy and brutal kicks upon the body ofthe little burro. These kicks sounded deep, hollow, almost like the boomof a drum. 

The burro uttered the strangest sound I ever heard issue from any beastand it dropped in its tracks with jerking legs that told any horsemanwhat had happened. Steele saw the last swings of Andrews' heavy boot. Heyelled. It was a sharp yell that would have made anyone start. But itcame too late, for the burro had dropped. 

Steele knocked over several of the jeering men to get to Andrews. Hekicked the fellow's feet from under him, sending him hard to the ground. 

Then Steele picked up the end of the halter and began to swing itpowerfully. Resounding smacks mingled with hoarse bellows of fury andpain. Andrews flopped here and there, trying to arise, but every timethe heavy knotted halter beat him down. 

Presently Steele stopped. Andrews rose right in front of the Ranger, andthere, like the madman he was, he went for his gun. 

But it scarcely leaped from its holster when Steele's swift handintercepted it. Steele clutched Andrews' arm. 

Then came a wrench, a cracking of bones, a scream of agony. 

The gun dropped into the dust; and in a moment of wrestling furyAndrews, broken, beaten down, just able to moan, lay beside it. 

Steele, so cool and dark for a man who had acted with such passionateswiftness, faced the others as if to dare them to move. They neithermoved nor spoke, and then he strode away. 

Miss Sampson did not speak a word while we were riding the rest of theway home, but she was strangely white of face and dark of eye. Sallycould not speak fast enough to say all she felt. 

And I, of course, had my measure of feelings. One of them was that assure as the sun rose and set it was written that Diane Sampson was tolove Vaughn Steele. 

I could not read her mind, but I had a mind of my own. 

How could any woman, seeing this maligned and menaced Ranger, whoselife was in danger every moment he spent on the streets, in the light ofhis action on behalf of a poor little beast, help but wonder and broodover the magnificent height he might reach if he had love--passion--awoman for his inspiration?

It was the day after this incident that, as Sally, Diane, and I wereriding homeward on the road from Sampson, I caught sight of a group ofdark horses and riders swiftly catching up with us. 

We were on the main road, in plain sight of town and passing by ranches;nevertheless, I did not like the looks of the horsemen and grew uneasy. Still, I scarcely thought it needful to race our horses just to reachtown a little ahead of these strangers. 

Accordingly, they soon caught up with us. 

They were five in number, all dark-faced except one, dark-clad andsuperbly mounted on dark bays and blacks. They had no pack animals and, for that matter, carried no packs at all. 

Four of them, at a swinging canter, passed us, and the fifth pulled hishorse to suit our pace and fell in between Sally and me. 

"Good day, " he said pleasantly to me. "Don't mind my ridin' in withyou-all, I hope?"

Considering his pleasant approach, I could not but be civil. 

He was a singularly handsome fellow, at a quick glance, under fortyyears, with curly, blond hair, almost gold, a skin very fair for thatcountry, and the keenest, clearest, boldest blue eyes I had ever seen ina man. 

"You're Russ, I reckon, " he said. "Some of my men have seen you ridin'round with Sampson's girls. I'm Jack Blome. "

He did not speak that name with any flaunt or flourish. He merely statedit. 

Blome, the rustler! I grew tight all over. 

Still, manifestly there was nothing for me to do but return hispleasantry. I really felt less uneasiness after he had made himselfknown to me. And without any awkwardness, I introduced him to the girls. 

He took off his sombrero and made gallant bows to both. 

Miss Sampson had heard of him and his record, and she could not help apaleness, a shrinking, which, however, he did not appear to notice. Sally had been dying to meet a real rustler, and here he was, a veryprince of rascals. 

But I gathered that she would require a little time before she could benatural. Blome seemed to have more of an eye for Sally than for Diane. "Do you like Pecos?" he asked Sally. 

"Out here? Oh, yes, indeed!" she replied. 

"Like ridin'?"

"I love horses. "

Like almost every man who made Sally's acquaintance, he hit upon thesubject best calculated to make her interesting to free-riding, outdoorWestern men. 

That he loved a thoroughbred horse himself was plain. He spoke naturallyto Sally with interest, just as I had upon first meeting her, and hemight not have been Jack Blome, for all the indication he gave of thefact in his talk. 

But the look of the man was different. He was a desperado, one of thedashing, reckless kind--more famous along the Pecos and Rio Grande thanmore really desperate men. His attire proclaimed a vanity seldom seen inany Westerner except of that unusual brand, yet it was neither gaudy orshowy. 

One had to be close to Blome to see the silk, the velvet, the gold, thefine leather. When I envied a man's spurs then they were indeed worthcoveting. 

Blome had a short rifle and a gun in saddle-sheaths. My sharp eye, running over him, caught a row of notches on the bone handle of the bigColt he packed. 

It was then that the marshal, the Ranger in me, went hot under thecollar. The custom that desperadoes and gun-fighters had of cutting anotch on their guns for every man killed was one of which the meremention made my gorge rise. 

At the edge of town Blome doffed his sombrero again, said "_Adios_, " androde on ahead of us. And it was then I was hard put to it to keep trackof the queries, exclamations, and other wild talk of two very muchexcited young ladies. I wanted to think; I _needed_ to think. 

"Wasn't he lovely? Oh, I could adore him!" rapturously uttered MissSally Langdon several times, to my ultimate disgust. 

Also, after Blome had ridden out of sight, Miss Sampson lost the evidenteffect of his sinister presence, and she joined Miss Langdon in payingthe rustler compliments, too. Perhaps my irritation was an indication ofthe quick and subtle shifting of my mind to harsher thought. 

"Jack Blome!" I broke in upon their adulations. "Rustler and gunman. Didyou see the notches on his gun? Every notch for a man he's killed! Forweeks reports have come to Linrock that soon as he could get round to ithe'd ride down and rid the community of that bothersome fellow, thatTexas Ranger! He's come to kill Vaughn Steele!"

Chapter 7

DIANE AND VAUGHN

Then as gloom descended on me with my uttered thought, my heart smote meat Sally's broken: "Oh, Russ! No! No!" Diane Sampson bent dark, shockedeyes upon the hill and ranch in front of her; but they were sightless, they looked into space and eternity, and in them I read the truthsuddenly and cruelly revealed to her--she loved Steele!

I found it impossible to leave Miss Sampson with the impression I hadgiven. My own mood fitted a kind of ruthless pleasure in seeing hersuffer through love as I had intimation I was to suffer. 

But now, when my strange desire that she should love Steele had itsfulfilment, and my fiendish subtleties to that end had been crowned withsuccess, I was confounded in pity and the enormity of my crime. For ithad been a crime to make, or help to make, this noble and beautifulwoman love a Ranger, the enemy of her father, and surely the author ofher coming misery. I felt shocked at my work. I tried to hang an excuseon my old motive that through her love we might all be saved. When itwas too late, however, I found that this motive was wrong and perhapswithout warrant. 

We rode home in silence. Miss Sampson, contrary to her usual custom ofriding to the corrals or the porch, dismounted at a path leading inamong the trees and flowers. "I want to rest, to think before I go in, "she said. 

Sally accompanied me to the corrals. As our horses stopped at the gate Iturned to find confirmation of my fears in Sally's wet eyes. 

"Russ, " she said, "it's worse than we thought. "

"Worse? I should say so, " I replied. 

"It'll about kill her. She never cared that way for any man. When theSampson women love, they love. "

"Well, you're lucky to be a Langdon, " I retorted bitterly. 

"I'm Sampson enough to be unhappy, " she flashed back at me, "and I'mLangdon enough to have some sense. You haven't any sense or kindness, either. Why'd you want to blurt out that Jack Blome was here to killSteele?"

"I'm ashamed, Sally, " I returned, with hanging head. "I've been a brute. I've wanted her to love Steele. I thought I had a reason, but now itseems silly. Just now I wanted to see how much she did care. 

"Sally, the other day you said misery loved company. That's the trouble. I'm sore--bitter. I'm like a sick coyote that snaps at everything. I'vewanted you to go into the very depths of despair. But I couldn't sendyou. So I took out my spite on poor Miss Sampson. It was a damn unmanlything for me to do. "

"Oh, it's not so bad as all that. But you might have been less abrupt. Russ, you seem to take an--an awful tragic view of your--your own case. "

"Tragic? Hah!" I cried like the villain in the play. "What other waycould I look at it? I tell you I love you so I can't sleep or doanything. "

"That's not tragic. When you've no chance, _then_ that's tragic. "

Sally, as swiftly as she had blushed, could change into that deadlysweet mood. She did both now. She seemed warm, softened, agitated. Howcould this be anything but sincere? I felt myself slipping; so I laughedharshly. 

"Chance! I've no chance on earth. "

"Try!" she whispered. 

But I caught myself in time. Then the shock of bitter renunciation madeit easy for me to simulate anger. 

"You promised not to--not to--" I began, choking. My voice was hoarseand it broke, matters surely far removed from pretense. 

I had seen Sally Langdon in varying degrees of emotion, but never as sheappeared now. She was pale and she trembled a little. If it was notfright, then I could not tell what it was. But there were contrition andearnestness about her, too. 

"Russ, I know. I promised not to--to tease--to tempt you anymore, " shefaltered. "I've broken it. I'm ashamed. I haven't played the gamesquare. But I couldn't--I can't help myself. I've got sense enough notto engage myself to you, but I can't keep from loving you. I can't letyou alone. There--if you want it on the square! What's more, I'll go onas I have done unless you keep away from me. I don't care what Ideserve--what you do--I will--I will!"

She had begun falteringly and she ended passionately. 

Somehow I kept my head, even though my heart pounded like a hammer andthe blood drummed in my ears. It was the thought of Steele that savedme. But I felt cold at the narrow margin. I had reached a point, Ifeared, where a kiss, one touch from this bewildering creature of fireand change and sweetness would make me put her before Steele and myduty. 

"Sally, if you dare break your promise again, you'll wish you never hadbeen born, " I said with all the fierceness at my command. 

"I wish that now. And you can't bluff me, Mr. Gambler. I may have nohand to play, but you can't make me lay it down, " she replied. 

Something told me Sally Langdon was finding herself; that presently Icould not frighten her, and then--then I would be doomed. 

"Why, if I got drunk, I might do anything, " I said cool and hard now. "Cut off your beautiful chestnut hair for bracelets for my arms. "

Sally laughed, but she was still white. She was indeed finding herself. "If you ever get drunk again you can't kiss me any more. And if youdon't--you can. "

I felt myself shake and, with all of the iron will I could assert, I hidfrom her the sweetness of this thing that was my weakness and herstrength. 

"I might lasso you from my horse, drag you through the cactus, " I addedwith the implacability of an Apache. 

"Russ!" she cried. Something in this last ridiculous threat had found avital mark. "After all, maybe those awful stories Joe Harper told aboutyou were true. "

"They sure were, " I declared with great relief. "And now to forgetourselves. I'm more than sorry I distressed Miss Sampson; more thansorry because what I said wasn't on the square. Blome, no doubt, hascome to Linrock after Steele. His intention is to kill him. I saidthat--let Miss Sampson think it all meant fatality to the Ranger. But, Sally, I don't believe that Blome can kill Steele any more than--thanyou can. "

"Why?" she asked; and she seemed eager, glad. 

"Because he's not man enough. That's all, without details. You need notworry; and I wish you'd go tell Miss Sampson--"

"Go yourself, " interrupted Sally. "I think she's afraid of my eyes. Butshe won't fear you'd guess her secret. 

"Go to her, Russ. Find some excuse to tell her. Say you thought it over, believed she'd be distressed about what might never happen. Go--andafterward pray for your sins, you queer, good-natured, love-meddlingcowboy-devil, you!"

For once I had no retort ready for Sally. I hurried off as quickly as Icould walk in chaps and spurs. 

I found Miss Sampson sitting on a bench in the shade of a tree. Herpallor and quiet composure told of the conquering and passing of thestorm. Always she had a smile for me, and now it smote me, for I in asense, had betrayed her. 

"Miss Sampson, " I began, awkwardly yet swiftly, "I--I got to thinking itover, and the idea struck me, maybe you felt bad about this gun-fighterBlome coming down here to kill Steele. At first I imagined you felt sickjust because there might be blood spilled. Then I thought you've showedinterest in Steele--naturally his kind of Ranger work is bound to appealto women--you might be sorry it couldn't go on, you might care. "

"Russ, don't beat about the bush, " she said interrupting my floundering. "You know I care. "

How wonderful her eyes were then--great dark, sad gulfs with the soul ofa woman at the bottom! Almost I loved her myself; I did love her truth, the woman in her that scorned any subterfuge. 

Instantly she inspired me to command over myself. "Listen, " I said. "Jack Blome has come here to meet Steele. There will be a fight. ButBlome can't kill Steele. "

"How is that? Why can't he? You said this Blome was a killer of men. Youspoke of notches on his gun. I've heard my father and my cousin, too, speak of Blome's record. He must be a terrible ruffian. If his intent isevil, why will he fail in it?"

"Because, Miss Sampson, when it comes to the last word, Steele will beon the lookout and Blome won't be quick enough on the draw to kill him. That's all. "

"Quick enough on the draw? I understand, but I want to know more. "

"I doubt if there's a man on the frontier to-day quick enough to killSteele in an even break. That means a fair fight. This Blome isconceited. He'll make the meeting fair enough. It'll come off about likethis, Miss Sampson. 

"Blome will send out his bluff--he'll begin to blow--to look for Steele. But Steele will avoid him as long as possible--perhaps altogether, though that's improbable. If they do meet, then Blome must force theissue. It's interesting to figure on that. Steele affects men strangely. It's all very well for this Blome to rant about himself and to huntSteele up. But the test'll come when he faces the Ranger. He never sawSteele. He doesn't know what he's up against. He knows Steele'sreputation, but I don't mean that. I mean Steele in the flesh, hisnerve, the something that's in his eyes. 

"Now, when it comes to handling a gun the man doesn't breathe who hasanything on Steele. There was an outlaw, Duane, who might have killedSteele, had they ever met. I'll tell you Duane's story some day. A girlsaved him, made a Ranger of him, then got him to go far away fromTexas. "

"That was wise. Indeed, I'd like to hear the story, " she replied. "Then, after all, Russ, in this dreadful part of Texas life, when man facesman, it's all in the quickness of hand?"

"Absolutely. It's the draw. And Steele's a wonder. See here. Look atthis. "

I stepped back and drew my gun. 

"I didn't see how you did that, " she said curiously. "Try it again. "

I complied, and still she was not quick enough of eye to see my draw. Then I did it slowly, explaining to her the action of hand and then offinger. She seemed fascinated, as a woman might have been by thestriking power of a rattlesnake. 

"So men's lives depend on that! How horrible for me to be interested--toask about it--to watch you! But I'm out here on the frontier now, caughtsomehow in its wildness, and I feel a relief, a gladness to know VaughnSteele has the skill you claim. Thank you, Russ. "

She seemed about to dismiss me then, for she rose and half turned away. Then she hesitated. She had one hand at her breast, the other on thebench. "Have you been with him--talked to him lately?" she asked, and afaint rose tint came into her cheeks. But her eyes were steady, dark, and deep, and peered through and far beyond me. 

"Yes, I've met him a few times, around places. "

"Did he ever speak of--of me?"

"Once or twice, and then as if he couldn't help it. "

"What did he say?"

"Well, the last time he seemed hungry to hear something about you. Hedidn't exactly ask, but, all the same, he was begging. So I told him. "

"What?"

"Oh, how you were dressed, how you looked, what you said, what youdid--all about you. Don't be offended with me, Miss Sampson. It was realcharity. I talk too much. It's my weakness. Please don't be offended. "

She never heard my apology or my entreaty. There was a kind of glory inher eyes. Looking at her, I found a dimness hazing my sight, and when Irubbed it away it came back. 

"Then--what did he say?" This was whispered, almost shyly, and I couldscarcely believe the proud Miss Sampson stood before me. 

"Why, he flew into a fury, called me an--" Hastily I caught myself. "Well, he said if I wanted to talk to him any more not to speak of you. He was sure unreasonable. "

"Russ--you think--you told me once--he--you think he still--" She wasnot facing me at all now. She had her head bent. Both hands were at herbreast, and I saw it heave. Her cheek was white as a flower, her neckdarkly, richly red with mounting blood. 

I understood. And I pitied her and hated myself and marveled at thisthing, love. It made another woman out of Diane Sampson. I couldscarcely comprehend that she was asking me, almost beseechingly, forfurther assurance of Steele's love. I knew nothing of women, but thisseemed strange. Then a thought sent the blood chilling back to my heart. Had Diane Sampson guessed the guilt of her father? Was it more for hissake than for her own that she hoped--for surely she hoped--that Steeleloved her?

Here was more mystery, more food for reflection. Only a powerful motiveor a self-leveling love could have made a woman of Diane Sampson's prideask such a question. Whatever her reason, I determined to assure her, once and forever, what I knew to be true. Accordingly, I told her inunforgettable words, with my own regard for her and love for Sallyfilling my voice with emotion, how I could see that Steele loved her, how madly he was destined to love her, how terribly hard that was goingto make his work in Linrock. 

There was a stillness about her then, a light on her face, which broughtto my mind thought of Sally when I had asked her to marry me. 

"Russ, I beg you--bring us together, " said Miss Sampson. "Bring about ameeting. You are my friend. " Then she went swiftly away through theflowers, leaving me there, thrilled to my soul at her betrayal ofherself, ready to die in her service, yet cursing the fatal day VaughnSteele had chosen me for his comrade in this tragic game. 

That evening in the girls' sitting-room, where they invited me, I wasled into a discourse upon the gun-fighters, outlaws, desperadoes, andbad men of the frontier. Miss Sampson and Sally had been, before theirarrival in Texas, as ignorant of such characters as any girls in theNorth or East. They were now peculiarly interested, fascinated, and atthe same time repelled. 

Miss Sampson must have placed the Rangers in one of those classes, somewhat as Governor Smith had, and her father, too. Sally thought shewas in love with a cowboy whom she had been led to believe had as bad arecord as any. They were certainly a most persuasive and appreciativeaudience. So as it was in regard to horses, if I knew any subject well, it was this one of dangerous and bad men. Texas, and the wholedeveloping Southwest, was full of such characters. It was a verydifficult thing to distinguish between fighters who were bad men andfighters who were good men. However, it was no difficult thing for oneof my calling to tell the difference between a real bad man and theimitation "four-flush. "

Then I told the girls the story of Buck Duane, famous outlaw and Ranger. And I narrated the histories of Murrell, most terrible ofblood-spillers ever known to Texas; of Hardin, whose long career ofcrime ended in the main street in Huntsville when he faced Buck Duane;of Sandobal, the Mexican terror; of Cheseldine, Bland, Alloway, andother outlaws of the Rio Grande; of King Fisher and Thompson andSterrett, all still living and still busy adding notches to their guns. 

I ended my little talk by telling the story of Amos Clark, a criminal ofa higher type than most bad men, yet infinitely more dangerous becauseof that. He was a Southerner of good family. After the war he went toDimmick County and there developed and prospered with the country. Hebecame the most influential citizen of his town and the richest in thatsection. He held offices. He was energetic in his opposition to rustlersand outlaws. He was held in high esteem by his countrymen. But this AmosClark was the leader of a band of rustlers, highwaymen, and murderers. 

Captain Neal and some of his Rangers ferreted out Clark's relation tothis lawless gang, and in the end caught him red-handed. He was arrestedand eventually hanged. His case was unusual, and it furnished an exampleof what was possible in that wild country. Clark had a son who washonest and a wife whom he dearly loved, both of whom had been utterlyignorant of the other and wicked side of life. I told this last storydeliberately, yet with some misgivings. I wanted to see--I convincedmyself it was needful for me to see--if Miss Sampson had any suspicionof her father. To look into her face then was no easy task. But when Idid I experienced a shock, though not exactly the kind I had preparedmyself for. 

She knew something; maybe she knew actually more than Steele or I;still, if it were a crime, she had a marvelous control over her truefeelings. 

 * * * * *

Jack Blome and his men had been in Linrock for several days; old Sneckerand his son Bo had reappeared, and other hard-looking customers, new tome if not to Linrock. These helped to create a charged and waitingatmosphere. The saloons did unusual business and were never closed. Respectable citizens of the town were awakened in the early dawn byrowdies carousing in the streets. 

Steele kept pretty closely under cover. He did not entertain theopinion, nor did I, that the first time he walked down the street hewould be a target for Blome and his gang. Things seldom happened thatway, and when they did happen so it was more accident than design. Blomewas setting the stage for his little drama. 

Meanwhile Steele was not idle. He told me he had met Jim Hoden, Mortonand Zimmer, and that these men had approached others of like character;a secret club had been formed and all the members were ready for action. Steele also told me that he had spent hours at night watching the housewhere George Wright stayed when he was not up at Sampson's. Wright hadalmost recovered from the injury to his arm, but he still remained mostof the time indoors. At night he was visited, or at least his house was, by strange men who were swift, stealthy, mysterious--all men whoformerly would not have been friends or neighbors. 

Steele had not been able to recognize any of these night visitors, andhe did not think the time was ripe for a bold holding up of one of them. 

Jim Hoden had forcibly declared and stated that some deviltry was afoot, something vastly different from Blome's open intention of meeting theRanger. 

Hoden was right. Not twenty-four hours after his last talk with Steele, in which he advised quick action, he was found behind the little room ofhis restaurant, with a bullet hole in his breast, dead. No one could befound who had heard a shot. 

It had been deliberate murder, for behind the bar had been left a pieceof paper rudely scrawled with a pencil:

"All friends of Ranger Steele look for the same. "

Later that day I met Steele at Hoden's and was with him when he lookedat the body and the written message which spoke so tersely of theenmity toward him. We left there together, and I hoped Steele would letme stay with him from that moment. 

"Russ, it's all in the dark, " he said. "I feel Wright's hand in this. "

I agreed. "I remember his face at Hoden's that day you winged him. Because Jim swore you were wrong not to kill instead of wing him. Youwere wrong. "

"No, Russ, I never let feeling run wild with my head. We can't prove athing on Wright. "

"Come on; let's hunt him up. I'll bet I can accuse him and make him showhis hand. Come on!"

That Steele found me hard to resist was all the satisfaction I got forthe anger and desire to avenge Jim Hoden that consumed me. 

"Son, you'll have your belly full of trouble soon enough, " repliedSteele. "Hold yourself in. Wait. Try to keep your eye on Sampson atnight. See if anyone visits him. Spy on him. I'll watch Wright. "

"Don't you think you'd do well to keep out of town, especially when yousleep?"

"Sure. I've got blankets out in the brush, and I go there every nightlate and leave before daylight. But I keep a light burning in the 'dobehouse and make it look as if I were there. "

"Good. That worried me. Now, what's this murder of Jim Hoden going to doto Morton, Zimmer, and their crowd?"

"Russ, they've all got blood in their eyes. This'll make them see red. I've only to say the word and we'll have all the backing we need. "

"Have you run into Blome?"

"Once. I was across the street. He came out of the Hope So with some ofhis gang. They lined up and watched me. But I went right on. "

"He's here looking for trouble, Steele. "

"Yes; and he'd have found it before this if I just knew his relation toSampson and Wright. "

"Do you think Blome a dangerous man to meet?"

"Hardly. He's a genuine bad man, but for all that he's not much to befeared. If he were quietly keeping away from trouble, then that'd bedifferent. Blome will probably die in his boots, thinking he's the worstman and the quickest one on the draw in the West. "

That was conclusive enough for me. The little shadow of worry that hadhaunted me in spite of my confidence vanished entirely. 

"Russ, for the present help me do something for Jim Hoden's family, "went on Steele. "His wife's in bad shape. She's not a strong woman. There are a lot of kids, and you know Jim Hoden was poor. She told meher neighbors would keep shy of her now. They'd be afraid. Oh, it'stough! But we can put Jim away decently and help his family. "

Several days after this talk with Steele I took Miss Sampson and Sallyout to see Jim Hoden's wife and children. I knew Steele would be therethat afternoon, but I did not mention this fact to Miss Sampson. We rodedown to the little adobe house which belonged to Mrs. Hoden's people, and where Steele and I had moved her and the children after Jim Hoden'sfuneral. The house was small, but comfortable, and the yard green andshady. 

If this poor wife and mother had not been utterly forsaken by neighborsand friends it certainly appeared so, for to my knowledge no one besidesSteele and me visited her. Miss Sampson had packed a big basket full ofgood things to eat, and I carried this in front of me on the pommel aswe rode. We hitched our horses to the fence and went round to the backof the house. There was a little porch with a stone flooring, and hereseveral children were playing. The door stood open. At my knock Mrs. Hoden bade me come in. Evidently Steele was not there, so I went in withthe girls. 

"Mrs. Hoden, I've brought Miss Sampson and her cousin to see you, " Isaid cheerfully. 

The little room was not very light, there being only one window and thedoor; but Mrs. Hoden could be seen plainly enough as she lay, hollow-cheeked and haggard, on a bed. Once she had evidently been awoman of some comeliness. The ravages of trouble and grief were there toread in her worn face; it had not, however, any of the hard and bitterlines that had characterized her husband's. 

I wondered, considering that Sampson had ruined Hoden, how Mrs. Hodenwas going to regard the daughter of an enemy. 

"So you're Roger Sampson's girl?" queried the woman, with her brightblack eyes fixed on her visitor. 

"Yes, " replied Miss Sampson, simply. "This is my cousin, Sally Langdon. We've come to nurse you, take care of the children, help you in any wayyou'll let us. "

There was a long silence. 

"Well, you look a little like Sampson, " finally said Mrs. Hoden, "butyou're not at all like him. You must take after your mother. MissSampson, I don't know if I can--if I _ought_ to accept anything fromyou. Your father ruined my husband. "

"Yes, I know, " replied the girl sadly. "That's all the more reason youshould let me help you. Pray don't refuse. It will--mean so much to me. "

If this poor, stricken woman had any resentment it speedily melted inthe warmth and sweetness of Miss Sampson's manner. My idea was that theimpression of Diane Sampson's beauty was always swiftly succeeded bythat of her generosity and nobility. At any rate, she had started wellwith Mrs. Hoden, and no sooner had she begun to talk to the childrenthan both they and the mother were won. 

The opening of that big basket was an event. Poor, starved littlebeggars! I went out on the porch to get away from them. My feelingsseemed too easily aroused. Hard indeed would it have gone with JimHoden's slayer if I could have laid my eyes on him then. However, MissSampson and Sally, after the nature of tender and practical girls, didnot appear to take the sad situation to heart. The havoc had alreadybeen wrought in that household. The needs now were cheerfulness, kindness, help, action, and these the girls furnished with a spirit thatdid me good. 

"Mrs. Hoden, who dressed this baby?" presently asked Miss Sampson. Ipeeped in to see a dilapidated youngster on her knees. That sight, ifany other was needed, completed my full and splendid estimate of DianeSampson. 

"Mr. Steele, " replied Mrs. Hoden. 

"Mr. Steele!" exclaimed Miss Sampson. 

"Yes; he's taken care of us all since--since--" Mrs. Hoden choked. 

"Oh, so you've had no help but his, " replied Miss Sampson hastily. "Nowomen? Too bad! I'll send someone, Mrs. Hoden, and I'll come myself. "

"It'll be good of you, " went on the older woman. "You see, Jim had fewfriends--that is, right in town. And they've been afraid to helpus--afraid they'd get what poor Jim--"

"That's awful!" burst out Miss Sampson passionately. "A brave lot offriends! Mrs. Hoden, don't you worry any more. We'll take care of you. Here, Sally help me. Whatever is the matter with baby's dress?"Manifestly Miss Sampson had some difficulty in subduing her emotion. 

"Why, it's on hind side before, " declared Sally. "I guess Mr. Steelehasn't dressed many babies. "

"He did the best he could, " said Mrs. Hoden. "Lord only knows what wouldhave become of us! He brought your cowboy, Russ, who's been very goodtoo. "

"Mr. Steele, then is--is something more than a Ranger?" queried MissSampson, with a little break in her voice. 

"He's more than I can tell, " replied Mrs. Hoden. "He buried Jim. He paidour debts. He fetched us here. He bought food for us. He cooked for usand fed us. He washed and dressed the baby. He sat with me the first twonights after Jim's death, when I thought I'd die myself. 

"He's so kind, so gentle, so patient. He has kept me up just by beingnear. Sometimes I'd wake from a doze an', seeing him there, I'd know howfalse were all these tales Jim heard about him and believed at first. Why, he plays with the children just--just like any good man might. Whenhe has the baby up I just can't believe he's a bloody gunman, as theysay. 

"He's good, but he isn't happy. He has such sad eyes. He looks far offsometimes when the children climb round him. They love him. I think hemust have loved some woman. His life is sad. Nobody need tell me--hesees the good in things. Once he said somebody had to be a Ranger. Well, I say, thank God for a Ranger like him!"

After that there was a long silence in the little room, broken only bythe cooing of the baby. I did not dare to peep in at Miss Sampson then. 

Somehow I expected Steele to arrive at that moment, and his step did notsurprise me. He came round the corner as he always turned any corner, quick, alert, with his hand down. If I had been an enemy waiting therewith a gun I would have needed to hurry. Steele was instinctively andhabitually on the defense. 

"Hello, son! How are Mrs. Hoden and the youngster to-day?" he asked. 

"Hello yourself! Why, they're doing fine! I brought the girls down--"

Then in the semishadow of the room, across Mrs. Hoden's bed, DianeSampson and Steele faced each other. 

That was a moment! Having seen her face then I would not have missedsight of it for anything I could name; never so long as memory remainedwith me would I forget. She did not speak. Sally, however, bowed andspoke to the Ranger. Steele, after the first start, showed no unusualfeeling. He greeted both girls pleasantly. 

"Russ, that was thoughtful of you, " he said. "It was womankind neededhere. I could do so little--Mrs. Hoden, you look better to-day. I'mglad. And here's baby, all clean and white. Baby, what a time I hadtrying to puzzle out the way your clothes went on! Well, Mrs. Hoden, didn't I tell you friends would come? So will the brighter side. "

"Yes; I've more faith than I had, " replied Mrs. Hoden. "Roger Sampson'sdaughter has come to me. There for a while after Jim's death I thoughtI'd sink. We have nothing. How could I ever take care of my little ones?But I'm gaining courage. "

"Mrs. Hoden, do not distress yourself any more, " said Miss Sampson. "Ishall see you are well cared for. I promise you. "

"Miss Sampson, that's fine!" exclaimed Steele, with a ring in his voice. "It's what I'd have hoped--expected of you. .. "

It must have been sweet praise to her, for the whiteness of her faceburned in a beautiful blush. 

"And it's good of you, too, Miss Langdon, to come, " added Steele. "Letme thank you both. I'm glad I have you girls as allies in part of mylonely task here. More than glad, for the sake of this good woman andthe little ones. But both of you be careful. Don't stir without Russ. There's risk. And now I'll be going. Good-by. Mrs. Hoden, I'll drop inagain to-night. Good-by!"

Steele backed to the door, and I slipped out before him. 

"Mr. Steele--wait!" called Miss Sampson as he stepped out. He uttered alittle sound like a hiss or a gasp or an intake of breath, I did notknow what; and then the incomprehensible fellow bestowed a kick upon methat I thought about broke my leg. But I understood and gamely enduredthe pain. Then we were looking at Diane Sampson. She was white andwonderful. She stepped out of the door, close to Steele. She did not seeme; she cared nothing for my presence. All the world would not havemattered to her then. 

"I have wronged you!" she said impulsively. 

Looking on, I seemed to see or feel some slow, mighty force gathering inSteele to meet this ordeal. Then he appeared as always--yet, to me, howdifferent!

"Miss Sampson, how can you say that?" he returned. 

"I believed what my father and George Wright said about you--thatbloody, despicable record! Now I do _not_ believe. I see--I wrongedyou. "

"You make me very glad when you tell me this. It was hard to have youthink so ill of me. But, Miss Sampson, please don't speak of wrongingme. I am a Ranger, and much said of me is true. My duty is hard onothers--sometimes on those who are innocent, alas! But God knows thatduty is hard, too, on me. "

"I did wrong you. In thought--in word. I ordered you from my home as ifyou were indeed what they called you. But I was deceived. I see myerror. If you entered my home again I would think it an honor. I--"

"Please--please don't, Miss Sampson, " interrupted poor Steele. I couldsee the gray beneath his bronze and something that was like gold deep inhis eyes. 

"But, sir, my conscience flays me, " she went on. There was no othersound like her voice. If I was all distraught with emotion, what mustSteele have been? "I make amends. Will you take my hand? Will youforgive me?" She gave it royally, while the other was there pressing ather breast. 

Steele took the proffered hand and held it, and did not release it. Whatelse could he have done? But he could not speak. Then it seemed to dawnupon Steele there was more behind this white, sweet, noble intensity ofher than just making amends for a fancied or real wrong. For myself, Ithought the man did not live on earth who could have resisted her then. And there was resistance; I felt it; she must have felt it. It was poorSteele's hard fate to fight the charm and eloquence and sweetness ofthis woman when, for some reason unknown to him, and only guessed at byme, she was burning with all the fire and passion of her soul. 

"Mr. Steele, I honor you for your goodness to this unfortunate woman, "she said, and now her speech came swiftly. "When she was all alone andhelpless you were her friend. It was the deed of a man. But Mrs. Hodenisn't the only unfortunate woman in the world. I, too, am unfortunate. Ah, how I may soon need a friend!

"Vaughn Steele, the man whom I need most to be my friend--want most tolean upon--is the one whose duty is to stab me to the heart, to ruinme. You! Will you be my friend? If you knew Diane Sampson you would knowshe would never ask you to be false to your duty. Be true to us both!I'm so alone--no one but Sally loves me. I'll need a friend soon--soon. 

"Oh, I know--I know what you'll find out sooner or later. I know _now_!I want to help you. Let us save life, if not honor. Must I standalone--all alone? Will you--will you be--"

Her voice failed. She was swaying toward Steele. I expected to see hisarms spread wide and enfold her in their embrace. 

"Diane Sampson, I love you!" whispered Steele hoarsely, white now to hislips. "I must be true to my duty. But if I can't be true to you, then byGod, I want no more of life!" He kissed her hand and rushed away. 

She stood a moment as if blindly watching the place where he hadvanished, and then as a sister might have turned to a brother, shereached for me. 

Chapter 8

THE EAVESDROPPER

We silently rode home in the gathering dusk. Miss Sampson dismounted atthe porch, but Sally went on with me to the corrals. I felt heavy andsomber, as if a catastrophe was near at hand. 

"Help me down, " said Sally. Her voice was low and tremulous. 

"Sally, did you hear what Miss Sampson said to Steele?" I asked. 

"A little, here and there. I heard Steele tell her he loved her. Isn'tthis a terrible mix?"

"It sure is. Did you hear--do you understand why she appealed to Steele, asked him to be her friend?"

"Did she? No, I didn't hear that. I heard her say she had wronged him. Then I tried not to hear any more. Tell me. "

"No Sally; it's not my secret. I wish I could do something--help themsomehow. Yes, it's sure a terrible mix. I don't care so much aboutmyself. "

"Nor me, " Sally retorted. 

"You! Oh, you're only a shallow spoiled child! You'd cease to loveanything the moment you won it. And I--well, I'm no good, you say. Buttheir love! My God, what a tragedy! You've no idea, Sally. They'vehardly spoken to each other, yet are ready to be overwhelmed. "

Sally sat so still and silent that I thought I had angered or offendedher. But I did not care much, one way or another. Her coquettish fancyfor me and my own trouble had sunk into insignificance. I did not lookup at her, though she was so close I could feel her little, restlessfoot touching me. The horses in the corrals were trooping up to thebars. Dusk had about given place to night, although in the west a broadflare of golden sky showed bright behind dark mountains. 

"So I say you're no good?" asked Sally after a long silence. Then hervoice and the way her hand stole to my shoulder should have been warningfor me. But it was not, or I did not care. 

"Yes, you said that, didn't you?" I replied absently. 

"I can change my mind, can't I? Maybe you're only wild and reckless whenyou drink. Mrs. Hoden said such nice things about you. They made me feelso good. "

I had no reply for that and still did not look up at her. I heard herswing herself around in the saddle. "Lift me down, " she said. 

Perhaps at any other time I would have remarked that this request wasrather unusual, considering the fact that she was very light and sure ofaction, extremely proud of it, and likely to be insulted by an offer ofassistance. But my spirit was dead. I reached for her hands, but theyeluded mine, slipped up my arms as she came sliding out of the saddle, and then her face was very close to mine. "Russ!" she whispered. It wastorment, wistfulness, uncertainty, and yet tenderness all in one littlewhisper. It caught me off guard or indifferent to consequences. So Ikissed her, without passion, with all regret and sadness. She uttered alittle cry that might have been mingled exultation and remorse for hervictory and her broken faith. Certainly the instant I kissed her sheremembered the latter. She trembled against me, and leaving unsaidsomething she had meant to say, she slipped out of my arms and ran. Sheassuredly was frightened, and I thought it just as well that she was. 

Presently she disappeared in the darkness and then the swift littleclinks of her spurs ceased. I laughed somewhat ruefully and hoped shewould be satisfied. Then I put away the horses and went in for mysupper. 

After supper I noisily bustled around my room, and soon stole out for myusual evening's spying. The night was dark, without starlight, and thestiff wind rustled the leaves and tore through the vines on the oldhouse. The fact that I had seen and heard so little during my constantvigilance did not make me careless or the task monotonous. I had so muchto think about that sometimes I sat in one place for hours and neverknew where the time went. 

This night, the very first thing, I heard Wright's well-known footsteps, and I saw Sampson's door open, flashing a broad bar of light into thedarkness. Wright crossed the threshold, the door closed, and all wasdark again outside. Not a ray of light escaped from the window. This wasthe first visit of Wright for a considerable stretch of time. Littledoubt there was that his talk with Sampson would be interesting to me. 

I tiptoed to the door and listened, but I could hear only a murmur ofvoices. Besides, that position was too risky. I went round the corner ofthe house. Some time before I had made a discovery that I imagined wouldbe valuable to me. This side of the big adobe house was of much olderconstruction than the back and larger part. There was a narrow passageabout a foot wide between the old and new walls, and this ran from theoutside through to the patio. I had discovered the entrance by accident, as it was concealed by vines and shrubbery. I crawled in there, upon anopportune occasion, with the intention of boring a small hole throughthe adobe bricks. But it was not necessary to do that, for the wall wascracked; and in one place I could see into Sampson's room. This passagenow afforded me my opportunity, and I decided to avail myself of it inspite of the very great danger. Crawling on my hands and knees verystealthily, I got under the shrubbery to the entrance of the passage. Inthe blackness a faint streak of light showed the location of the crackin the wall. 

I had to slip in sidewise. It was a tight squeeze, but I entered withoutthe slightest sound. If my position were to be betrayed it would not befrom noise. As I progressed the passage grew a very little wider in thatdirection, and this fact gave rise to the thought that in case of anecessary and hurried exit I would do best by working toward the patio. It seemed a good deal of time was consumed in reaching my vantage-point. When I did get there the crack was a foot over my head. If I had onlybeen tall like Steele! There was nothing to do but find toe-holes in thecrumbling walls, and by bracing knees on one side, back against theother, hold myself up to the crack. 

Once with my eye there I did not care what risk I ran. Sampson appeareddisturbed; he sat stroking his mustache; his brow was clouded. Wright'sface seemed darker, more sullen, yet lighted by some indomitableresolve. 

"We'll settle both deals to-night, " Wright was saying. "That's what Icame for. That's why I've asked Snecker and Blome to be here. "

"But suppose I don't choose to talk here?" protested Sampsonimpatiently. "I never before made my house a place to--"

"We've waited long enough. This place's as good as any. You've lost yournerve since that Ranger hit the town. First, now, will you give Diane tome?"

"George, you talk like a spoiled boy. Give Diane to you! Why, she's awoman and I'm finding out that she's got a mind of her own. I told you Iwas willing for her to marry you. I tried to persuade her. But Dianehasn't any use for you now. She liked you at first; but now she doesn't. So what can I do?"

"You can make her marry me, " replied Wright. 

"Make that girl do what she doesn't want to? It couldn't be done, evenif I tried. And I don't believe I'll try. I haven't the highest opinionof you as a prospective son-in-law, George. But if Diane loved you Iwould consent. We'd all go away together before this damned miserablebusiness is out. Then she'd never know. And maybe you might be more likeyou used to be before the West ruined you. But as matters stand youfight your own game with her; and I'll tell you now, you'll lose. "

"What'd you want to let her come out here for?" demanded Wright hotly. "It was a dead mistake. I've lost my head over her. I'll have her ordie. Don't you think if she was my wife I'd soon pull myself together?Since she came we've none of us been right. And the gang has put up aholler. No, Sampson, we've got to settle things to-night. "

"Well, we can settle what Diane's concerned in right now, " repliedSampson, rising. "Come on; we'll go ask her. See where you stand. "

They went out, leaving the door open. I dropped down to rest myself andto wait. I would have liked to hear Miss Sampson's answer to him. But Icould guess what it would be. Wright appeared to be all I had thought ofhim, and I believed I was going to find out presently that he was worse. Just then I wanted Steele as never before. Still, he was too big to wormhis way into this place. 

The men seemed to be absent a good while, though that feeling might havebeen occasioned by my interest and anxiety. Finally I heard heavy steps. Wright came in alone. He was leaden-faced, humiliated. Then somethingabject in him gave place to rage. He strode the room; he cursed. 

Sampson returned, now appreciably calmer. I could not but decide that hefelt relief at the evident rejection of Wright's proposal. "Don't fumeabout it, George, " he said. "You see I can't help it. We're pretty wildout here, but I can't rope my daughter and give her to you as I would anunruly steer. "

"Sampson, I can _make_ her marry me, " declared Wright thickly. 

"How?"

"You know the hold I got on you--the deal that made you boss of thisrustler gang?"

"It isn't likely I'd forget, " replied Sampson grimly. 

"I can go to Diane--tell her that--make her believe I'd tell itbroadcast, tell this Ranger Steele, unless she'd marry me!" Wright spokebreathlessly, with haggard face and shadowed eyes. He had no shame. Hewas simply in the grip of passion. Sampson gazed with dark, controlledfury at his relative. In that look I saw a strong, unscrupulous manfallen into evil ways, but still a man. It betrayed Wright to be thewild and passionate weakling. 

I seemed to see also how, during all the years of association, thisstrong man had upheld the weak one. But that time had gone forever, bothin intent on Sampson's part and in possibility. Wright, like the greatmajority of evil and unrestrained men on the border, had reached a pointwhere influence was futile. Reason had degenerated. He saw only himself. 

"But, George, Diane's the one person on earth who must never know I'm arustler, a thief, a red-handed ruler of the worst gang on the border, "replied Sampson impressively. 

George bowed his head at that, as if the significance had just occurredto him. But he was not long at a loss. "She's going to find it outsooner or later. I tell you she knows now there's something wrong outhere. She's got eyes. And that meddling cowboy of hers is smarter thanyou give him credit for. They're always together. You'll regret the dayRuss ever straddled a horse on this ranch. Mark what I say. "

"Diane's changed, I know; but she hasn't any idea yet that her daddy's aboss rustler. Diane's concerned about what she calls my duty as mayor. Also I think she's not satisfied with my explanations in regard tocertain property. "

Wright halted in his restless walk and leaned against the stonemantelpiece. He squared himself as if this was his last stand. He lookeddesperate, but on the moment showed an absence of his usual nervousexcitement. "Sampson, that may well be true, " he said. "No doubt allyou say is true. But it doesn't help me. I want the girl. If I don't gether I reckon we'll all go to hell!" He might have meant anything, probably meant the worst. He certainly had something more in mind. 

Sampson gave a slight start, barely perceptible like the twitch of anawakening tiger. He sat there, head down, stroking his mustache. AlmostI saw his thought. I had long experience in reading men under stress ofsuch emotion. I had no means to vindicate my judgment, but my convictionwas that Sampson right then and there decided that the thing to do wasto kill Wright. For my part, I wondered that he had not come to such aconclusion before. Not improbably the advent of his daughter had putSampson in conflict with himself. 

Suddenly he threw off a somber cast of countenance and began to talk. Hetalked swiftly, persuasively, yet I imagined he was talking to smoothWright's passion for the moment. Wright no more caught the fatefulsignificance of a line crossed, a limit reached, a decree decided, thanif he had not been present. He was obsessed with himself. 

How, I wondered, had a man of his mind ever lived so long and gone sofar among the exacting conditions of Pecos County? The answer wasperhaps, that Sampson had guided him, upheld him, protected him. Thecoming of Diane Sampson had been the entering wedge of dissension. 

"You're too impatient, " concluded Sampson. "You'll ruin any chance ofhappiness if you rush Diane. She might be won. If you told her who I amshe'd hate you forever. She might marry you to save me, but she'd hateyou. 

"That isn't the way. Wait. Play for time. Be different with her. Cut outyour drinking. She despises that. Let's plan to sell out here, stock, ranch, property, and leave the country. Then you'd have a show withher. "

"I told you we've got to stick, " growled Wright. "The gang won't standfor our going. It can't be done unless you want to sacrificeeverything. "

"You mean double-cross the men? Go without their knowing? Leave themhere to face whatever comes?"

"I mean just that. "

"I'm bad enough, but not that bad, " returned Sampson. "If I can't getthe gang to let me off I'll stay and face the music. All the same, Wright, did it ever strike you that most of our deals the last few yearshave been yours?"

"Yes. If I hadn't rung them in, there wouldn't have been any. You've hadcold feet, Owens says, especially since this Ranger Steele has beenhere. "

"Well, call it cold feet if you like. But I call it sense. We reachedour limit long ago. We began by rustling a few cattle at a time whenrustling was laughed at. But as our greed grew so did our boldness. Thencame the gang, the regular trips, and one thing and another till, beforewe knew it--before _I_ knew it, we had shady deals, hold-ups, andmurders on our record. Then we had to go on. Too late to turn back!"

"I reckon we've all said that. None of the gang wants to quit. They allthink, and I think, we can't be touched. We may be blamed, but nothingcan be proved. We're too strong. "

"There's where you're dead wrong, " rejoined Sampson, emphatically. "Iimagined that once, not long ago. I was bull-headed. Who would everconnect Roger Sampson with a rustler gang? I've changed my mind. I'vebegun to think. I've reasoned out things. We're crooked and we can'tlast. It's the nature of life, even in wild Pecos, for conditions togrow better. The wise deal for us would be to divide equally and leavethe country, all of us. "

"But you and I have all the stock--all the gain, " protested Wright. 

"I'll split mine. "

"I won't--that settles that, " added Wright instantly. 

Sampson spread wide his hands as if it was useless to try to convincethis man. Talking had not increased his calmness, and he now showed morethan impatience. A dull glint gleamed deep in his eyes. "Your stock andproperty will last a long time--do you lots of good when Steele--"

"Bah!" hoarsely croaked Wright. The Ranger's name was a match appliedto powder. "Haven't I told you he'd be dead soon same as Hoden is?"

"Yes, you mentioned the supposition, " replied Sampson sarcastically. "Iinquired, too just how that very desired event was to be brought about. "

"Blome's here to kill Steele. "

"Bah!" retorted Sampson in turn. "Blome can't kill this Ranger. He can'tface him with a ghost of a show--he'll never get a chance at Steele'sback. The man don't live on this border who's quick and smart enough tokill Steele. "

"I'd like to know why?" demanded Wright sullenly. 

"You ought to know. You've seen the Ranger pull a gun. "

"Who told you?" queried Wright, his face working. 

"Oh, I guessed it, if that'll do you. "

"If Jack doesn't kill this damned Ranger I will, " replied Wright, pounding the table. 

Sampson laughed contemptuously. "George, don't make so much noise. Anddon't be a fool. You've been on the border for ten years. You've packeda gun and you've used it. You've been with Blome and Snecker when theykilled their men. You've been present at many fights. But you never sawa man like Steele. You haven't got sense enough to see him right if youhad a chance. Neither has Blome. The only way to get rid of Steele isfor the gang to draw on him, all at once. And even then he's going todrop some of them. "

"Sampson, you say that like a man who wouldn't care much if Steele diddrop some of them, " declared Wright, and now he was sarcastic. 

"To tell you the truth I wouldn't, " returned the other bluntly. "I'mpretty sick of this mess. "

Wright cursed in amaze. His emotions were out of all proportion to hisintelligence. He was not at all quick-witted. I had never seen a vaineror more arrogant man. "Sampson, I don't like your talk, " he said. 

"If you don't like the way I talk you know what you can do, " repliedSampson quickly. He stood up then, cool and quiet, with flash of eyesand set of lips that told me he was dangerous. 

"Well, after all, that's neither here nor there, " went on Wright, unconsciously cowed by the other. "The thing is, do I get the girl?"

"Not by any means, except her consent. "

"You'll not make her marry me?"

"No. No, " replied Sampson, his voice still cold, low-pitched. 

"All right. Then I'll make her. "

Evidently Sampson understood the man before him so well that he wastedno more words. I knew what Wright never dreamed of, and that was thatSampson had a gun somewhere within reach and meant to use it. 

Then heavy footsteps sounded outside, tramping upon the porch. I mighthave been mistaken, but I believed those footsteps saved Wright's life. 

"There they are, " said Wright, and he opened the door. Five masked menentered. About two of them I could not recognize anything familiar. Ithought one had old Snecker's burly shoulders and another Bo Snecker'sstripling shape. I did recognize Blome in spite of his mask, because hisfair skin and hair, his garb and air of distinction made plain hisidentity. They all wore coats, hiding any weapons. The big man withburly shoulders shook hands with Sampson and the others stood back. 

The atmosphere of that room had changed. Wright might have been anonentity for all he counted. Sampson was another man--a stranger to me. If he had entertained a hope of freeing himself from his band, ofgetting away to a safer country, he abandoned it at the very sight ofthese men. There was power here and he was bound. 

The big man spoke in low, hoarse whispers, and at this all the othersgathered round him, close to the table. There were evidently some signsof membership not plain to me. Then all the heads were bent over thetable. Low voices spoke, queried, answered, argued. By straining my earsI caught a word here and there. They were planning. I did not attempt toget at the meaning of the few words and phrases I distinguished, butheld them in mind so to piece all together afterward. Before theplotters finished conferring I had an involuntary flashed knowledge ofmuch and my whirling, excited mind made reception difficult. 

When these rustlers finished whispering I was in a cold sweat. Steelewas to be killed as soon as possible by Blome, or by the gang going toSteele's house at night. Morton had been seen with the Ranger. He was tomeet the same fate as Hoden, dealt by Bo Snecker, who evidently workedin the dark like a ferret. Any other person known to be communing withSteele, or interested in him, or suspected of either, was to besilenced. Then the town was to suffer a short deadly spell of violence, directed anywhere, for the purpose of intimidating those people who hadbegun to be restless under the influence of the Ranger. After that, bigherds of stock were to be rustled off the ranches to the north anddriven to El Paso. 

Then the big man, who evidently was the leader of the presentconvention, got up to depart. He went as swiftly as he had come, and wasfollowed by the slender fellow. As far as it was possible for me to besure, I identified these two as Snecker and his son. The others, however, remained. Blome removed his mask, which action was duplicatedby the two rustlers who had stayed with him. They were both young, bronzed, hard of countenance, not unlike cowboys. Evidently this was nowa social call on Sampson. He set out cigars and liquors for his guests, and a general conversation ensued, differing little from what might havebeen indulged in by neighborly ranchers. There was not a word spokenthat would have caused suspicion. 

Blome was genial, gay, and he talked the most. Wright alone seemeduncommunicative and unsociable. He smoked fiercely and drankcontinually. All at once he straightened up as if listening. "What'sthat?" he called suddenly. 

The talking and laughter ceased. My own strained ears were pervaded by aslight rustling sound. 

"Must be a rat, " replied Sampson in relief. Strange how any sudden orunknown thing weighed upon him. 

The rustling became a rattle. 

"Sounds like a rattlesnake to me, " said Blome. 

Sampson got up from the table and peered round the room. Just at thatinstant I felt an almost inappreciable movement of the adobe wall whichsupported me. I could scarcely credit my senses. But the rattle insideSampson's room was mingling with little dull thuds of falling dirt. Theadobe wall, merely dried mud was crumbling. I distinctly felt a tremorpass through it. Then the blood gushed with sickening coldness back tomy heart and seemingly clogged it. 

"What in the hell!" exclaimed Sampson. 

"I smell dust, " said Blome sharply. 

That was the signal for me to drop down from my perch, yet despite mycare I made a noise. 

"Did you hear a step?" queried Sampson. 

Then a section of the wall fell inward with a crash. I began to squeezemy body through the narrow passage toward the patio. 

"Hear him!" yelled Wright. "This side. "

"No, he's going that way, " yelled someone else. The tramp of heavy bootslent me the strength and speed of desperation. I was not shirking afight, but to be cornered like a trapped coyote was another matter. Ialmost tore my clothes off in that passage. The dust nearly stifled me. 

When I burst into the patio it was not one single instant too soon. Butone deep gash of breath revived me, and I was up, gun in hand, runningfor the outlet into the court. Thumping footsteps turned me back. Whilethere was a chance to get away I did not want to meet odds in a fight. Ithought I heard some one running into the patio from the other end. Istole along, and coming to a door, without any idea of where it mightlead, I softly pushed it open a little way and slipped in. 

Chapter 9

IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO

A low cry greeted me. The room was light. I saw Sally Langdon sitting onher bed in her dressing gown. Shaking my gun at her with a fiercewarning gesture to be silent, I turned to close the door. It was a heavydoor, without bolt or bar, and when I had shut it I felt safe only forthe moment. Then I gazed around the room. There was one window withblind closely drawn. I listened and seemed to hear footsteps retreating, dying away. Then I turned to Sally. She had slipped off the bed to herknees and was holding out trembling hands as if both to supplicate mercyand to ward me off. She was as white as the pillow on her bed. She wasterribly frightened. Again with warning hand commanding silence Istepped softly forward, meaning to reassure her. 

"Russ! Russ!" she whispered wildly, and I thought she was going tofaint. When I got close and looked into her eyes I understood thestrange dark expression in them. She was terrified because she believedI meant to kill her, or do worse, probably worse. She had believed manya hard story about me and had cared for me in spite of them. Iremembered, then, that she had broken her promise, she had tempted me, led me to kiss her, made a fool out of me. I remembered, also how I hadthreatened her. This intrusion of mine was the wild cowboy's vengeance. 

I verily believed she thought I was drunk. I must have looked prettyhard and fierce, bursting into her room with that big gun in hand. Myfirst action then was to lay the gun on her bureau. 

"You poor kid!" I whispered, taking her hands and trying to raise her. But she stayed on her knees and clung to me. 

"Russ! It was vile of me, " she whispered. "I know it. I deserveanything--anything! But I am only a kid. Russ, I didn't break myword--I didn't make you kiss me just for, vanity's sake. I swear Ididn't. I wanted you to. For I care, Russ, I can't help it. Pleaseforgive me. Please let me off this time. Don't--don't--"

"Will you shut up!" I interrupted, half beside myself. And I used forcein another way than speech. I shook her and sat her on the bed. "Youlittle fool, I didn't come in here to kill you or do some other awfulthing, as you think. For God's sake, Sally, what do you take me for?"

"Russ, you swore you'd do something terrible if I tempted you anymore, "she faltered. The way she searched my face with doubtful, fearful eyeshurt me. 

"Listen, " and with the word I seemed to be pervaded by peace. "I didn'tknow this was your room. I came in here to get away--to save my life. Iwas pursued. I was spying on Sampson and his men. They heard me, but didnot see me. They don't know who was listening. They're after me now. I'mSpecial United States Deputy Marshal Sittell--Russell Archibald Sittell. I'm a Ranger. I'm here as secret aid to Steele. "

Sally's eyes changed from blank gulfs to dilating, shadowing, quickeningwindows of thought. "Russ-ell Archi-bald Sittell, " she echoed. "Ranger!Secret aid to Steele!"

"Yes. "

"Then you're no cowboy?"

"No. "

"Only a make-believe one?"

"Yes. "

"And the drinking, the gambling, the association with those lowmen--that was all put on?"

"Part of the game, Sally. I'm not a drinking man. And I sure hate thoseplaces I had to go in, and all that pertains to them. "

"Oh, so _that's_ it! I knew there was something. How glad--how glad Iam!" Then Sally threw her arms around my neck, and without reserve orrestraint began to kiss me and love me. It must have been a moment ofsheer gladness to feel that I was not disreputable, a moment whensomething deep and womanly in her was vindicated. Assuredly she wasentirely different from what she had ever been before. 

There was a little space of time, a sweet confusion of senses, when Icould not but meet her half-way in tenderness. Quite as suddenly, thenshe began to cry. I whispered in her ear, cautioning her to be careful, that my life was at stake; and after that she cried silently, with oneof her arms round my neck, her head on my breast, and her hand claspingmine. So I held her for what seemed a long time. Indistinct voices cameto me and footsteps seemingly a long way off. I heard the wind in therose-bush outside. Some one walked down the stony court. Then a shrillneigh of a horse pierced the silence. A rider was mounting out there forsome reason. With my life at stake I grasped all the sweetness of thatsituation. Sally stirred in my arms, raised a red, tear-stained yethappy face, and tried to smile. "It isn't any time to cry, " shewhispered. "But I had to. You can't understand what it made me feel tolearn you're no drunkard, no desperado, but a _man_--a man like thatRanger!" Very sweetly and seriously she kissed me again. "Russ, if Ididn't honestly and truly love you before, I do now. "

Then she stood up and faced me with the fire and intelligence of awoman in her eyes. "Tell me now. You were spying on my uncle?"

Briefly I told her what had happened before I entered her room, notomitting a terse word as to the character of the men I had watched. 

"My God! So it's Uncle Roger! I knew something was very wrong here--withhim, with the place, the people. And right off I hated George Wright. Russ, does Diane know?"

"She knows something. I haven't any idea how much. "

"This explains her appeal to Steele. Oh, it'll kill her! You don't knowhow proud, how good Diane is. Oh, it'll kill her!"

"Sally, she's no baby. She's got sand, that girl--"

The sound of soft steps somewhere near distracted my attention, remindedme of my peril, and now, what counted more with me, made clear theprobability of being discovered in Sally's room. "I'll have to get outof here, " I whispered. 

"Wait, " she replied, detaining me. "Didn't you say they were hunting foryou?"

"They sure are, " I returned grimly. 

"Oh! Then you mustn't go. They might shoot you before you got away. Stay. If we hear them you can hide under my bed. I'll turn out thelight. I'll meet them at the door. You can trust me. Stay, Russ. Waittill all quiets down, if we have to wait till morning. Then you can slipout. "

"Sally, I oughtn't to stay. I don't want to--I won't, " I repliedperplexed and stubborn. 

"But you must. It's the only safe way. They won't come here. "

"Suppose they should? It's an even chance Sampson'll search every roomand corner in this old house. If they found me here I couldn't start afight. You might be hurt. Then--the fact of my being here--" I did notfinish what I meant, but instead made a step toward the door. 

Sally was on me like a little whirlwind, white of face and dark of eye, with a resoluteness I could not have deemed her capable of. She was asstrong and supple as a panther, too. But she need not have been eitherresolute or strong, for the clasp of her arms, the feel of her warmbreast as she pressed me back were enough to make me weak as water. Myknees buckled as I touched the chair, and I was glad to sit down. Myface was wet with perspiration and a kind of cold ripple shot over me. Iimagined I was losing my nerve then. Proof beyond doubt that Sally lovedme was so sweet, so overwhelming a thing, that I could not resist, evento save her disgrace. 

"Russ, the fact of your being here is the very thing to save you--ifthey come, " Sally whispered softly. "What do I care what they think?"She put her arms round my neck. I gave up then and held her as if sheindeed were my only hope. A noise, a stealthy sound, a step, froze thatembrace into stone. 

"Up yet, Sally?" came Sampson's clear voice, too strained, too eager tobe natural. 

"No. I'm in bed, reading. Good night, Uncle, " instantly replied Sally, so calmly and naturally that I marveled at the difference between manand woman. Perhaps that was the difference between love and hate. 

"Are you alone?" went on Sampson's penetrating voice, colder now. 

"Yes, " replied Sally. 

The door swung inward with a swift scrape and jar. Sampson half entered, haggard, flaming-eyed. His leveled gun did not have to move an inch tocover me. Behind him I saw Wright and indistinctly, another man. 

"Well!" gasped Sampson. He showed amazement. "Hands up, Russ!"

I put up my hands quickly, but all the time I was calculating what chanceI had to leap for my gun or dash out the light. I was trapped. And fury, like the hot teeth of a wolf, bit into me. That leveled gun, the menacein Sampson's puzzled eyes, Wright's dark and hateful face, these loosenedthe spirit of fight in me. If Sally had not been there I would have madesome desperate move. 

Sampson barred Wright from entering, which action showed control aswell as distrust. 

"You lied!" said Sampson to Sally. He was hard as flint, yet doubtfuland curious, too. 

"Certainly I lied, " snapped Sally in reply. She was cool, almostflippant. I awakened to the knowledge that she was to be reckoned within this situation. Suddenly she stepped squarely between Sampson and me. 

"Move aside, " ordered Sampson sternly. 

"I won't! What do I care for your old gun? You shan't shoot Russ or doanything else to him. It's my fault he's here in my room. I coaxed himto come. "

"You little hussy!" exclaimed Sampson, and he lowered the gun. 

If I ever before had occasion to glory in Sally I had it then. Shebetrayed not the slightest fear. She looked as if she could fight like alittle tigress. She was white, composed, defiant. 

"How long has Russ been in here?" demanded Sampson. 

"All evening. I left Diane at eight o'clock. Russ came right afterthat. "

"But you'd undressed for bed!" ejaculated the angry and perplexed uncle. 

"Yes. " That simple answer was so noncommittal, so above subterfuge, soinnocent, and yet so confounding in its provocation of thought thatSampson just stared his astonishment. But I started as if I had beenstruck. 

"See here Sampson--" I began, passionately. 

Like a flash Sally whirled into my arms and one hand crossed my lips. "It's my fault. I will take the blame, " she cried, and now the agony offear in her voice quieted me. I realized I would be wise to be silent. "Uncle, " began Sally, turning her head, yet still clinging to me, "I'vetormented Russ into loving me. I've flirted with him--teasedhim--tempted him. We love each other now. We're engaged. Please--pleasedon't--" She began to falter and I felt her weight sag a little againstme. 

"Well, let go of him, " said Sampson. "I won't hurt him. Sally, how longhas this affair been going on?"

"For weeks--I don't know how long. "

"Does Diane know?"

"She knows we love each other, but not that we met--did this--" Lightswift steps, the rustle of silk interrupted Sampson, and made my heartsink like lead. 

"Is that you, George?" came Miss Sampson's deep voice, nervous, hurried. "What's all this commotion? I hear--"

"Diane, go on back, " ordered Sampson. 

Just then Miss Sampson's beautiful agitated face appeared beside Wright. He failed to prevent her from seeing all of us. 

"Papa! Sally!" she exclaimed, in consternation. Then she swept into theroom. "What has happened?"

Sampson, like the devil he was, laughed when it was too late. He hadgood impulses, but they never interfered with his sardonic humor. Hepaced the little room, shrugging his shoulders, offering no explanation. Sally appeared about ready to collapse and I could not have told Sally'slie to Miss Sampson to save my life. 

"Diane, your father and I broke in on a little Romeo and Juliet scene, "said George Wright with a leer. Then Miss Sampson's dark gaze swept fromGeorge to her father, then to Sally's attire and her shamed face, andfinally to me. What effect the magnificent wrath and outraged trust inher eyes had upon me!

"Russ, do they dare insinuate you came to Sally's room?" For myself Icould keep silent, but for Sally I began to feel a hot clamoringoutburst swelling in my throat. 

"Sally confessed it, Diane, " replied Wright. 

"Sally!" A shrinking, shuddering disbelief filled Miss Sampson's voice. 

"Diane, I told you I loved him--didn't I?" replied Sally. She managed tohold up her head with a ghost of her former defiant spirit. 

"Miss Sampson, it's a--" I burst out. 

Then Sally fainted. It was I who caught her. Miss Sampson hurried to herside with a little cry of distress. 

"Russ, your hand's called, " said Sampson. "Of course you'll swear themoon's green cheese. And I like you the better for it. But we know now, and you can save your breath. If Sally hadn't stuck up so gamely for youI'd have shot you. But at that I wasn't looking for you. Now clear outof here. " I picked up my gun from the bureau and dropped it in itssheath. For the life of me I could not leave without another look atMiss Sampson. The scorn in her eyes did not wholly hide the sadness. Shewho needed friends was experiencing the bitterness of misplaced trust. That came out in the scorn, but the sadness--I knew what hurt her mostwas her sorrow. 

I dropped my head and stalked out. 

Chapter 10

A SLAP IN THE FACE

When I got out into the dark, where my hot face cooled in the wind, myrelief equaled my other feelings. Sampson had told me to clear out, andalthough I did not take that as a dismissal I considered I would be wiseto leave the ranch at once. Daylight might disclose my footprintsbetween the walls, but even if it did not, my work there was finished. So I went to my room and packed my few belongings. 

The night was dark, windy, stormy, yet there was no rain. I hoped assoon as I got clear of the ranch to lose something of the pain I felt. But long after I had tramped out into the open there was a lump in mythroat and an ache in my breast. And all my thought centered roundSally. 

What a game and loyal little girl she had turned out to be! I wasabsolutely at a loss concerning what the future held in store for us. Iseemed to have a vague but clinging hope that, after the trouble wasover, there might be--there _must_ be--something more between us. 

Steele was not at our rendezvous among the rocks. The hour was too late. Among the few dim lights flickering on the outskirts of town I pickedout the one of his little adobe house but I knew almost to a certaintythat he was not there. So I turned my way into the darkness, not withany great hope of finding Steele out there, but with the intention ofseeking a covert for myself until morning. 

There was no trail and the night was so black that I could see only thelighter sandy patches of ground. I stumbled over the little clumps ofbrush, fell into washes, and pricked myself on cactus. By and bymesquites and rocks began to make progress still harder for me. Iwandered around, at last getting on higher ground and here in spite ofthe darkness, felt some sense of familiarity with things. I was probablynear Steele's hiding place. 

I went on till rocks and brush barred further progress, and then Iventured to whistle. But no answer came. Whereupon I spread my blanketin as sheltered a place as I could find and lay down. The coyotes wereon noisy duty, the wind moaned and rushed through the mesquites. Butdespite these sounds and worry about Steele, and the never-absenthaunting thought of Sally, I went to sleep. 

A little rain had fallen during the night, as I discovered upon waking;still it was not enough to cause me any discomfort. The morning wasbright and beautiful, yet somehow I hated it. I had work to do that didnot go well with that golden wave of grass and brush on the windy open. 

I climbed to the highest rock of that ridge and looked about. It was awild spot, some three miles from town. Presently I recognized landmarksgiven to me by Steele and knew I was near his place. I whistled, thenhalloed, but got no reply. Then by working back and forth across theridge I found what appeared to be a faint trail. This I followed, lostand found again, and eventually, still higher up on another ridge, witha commanding outlook, I found Steele's hiding place. He had not beenthere for perhaps forty-eight hours. I wondered where he had slept. 

Under a shelving rock I found a pack of food, carefully protected by aheavy slab. There was also a canteen full of water. I lost no timegetting myself some breakfast, and then, hiding my own pack, I set offat a rapid walk for town. 

But I had scarcely gone a quarter of a mile, had, in fact, just reacheda level, when sight of two horsemen halted me and made me take to cover. They appeared to be cowboys hunting for a horse or a steer. Under thecircumstances, however, I was suspicious, and I watched them closely, and followed them a mile or so round the base of the ridges, until I hadthoroughly satisfied myself they were not tracking Steele. They were along time working out of sight, which further retarded my venturingforth into the open. 

Finally I did get started. Then about half-way to town more horsemen inthe flat caused me to lie low for a while, and make a wide detour toavoid being seen. 

Somewhat to my anxiety it was afternoon before I arrived in town. For mylife I could not have told why I knew something had happened since mylast visit, but I certainly felt it; and was proportionately curious andanxious. 

The first person I saw whom I recognized was Dick, and he handed me anote from Sally. She seemed to take it for granted that I had been wiseto leave the ranch. Miss Sampson had softened somewhat when she learnedSally and I were engaged, and she had forgiven my deceit. Sally asked meto come that night after eight, down among the trees and shrubbery, to asecluded spot we knew. It was a brief note and all to the point. Butthere was something in it that affected me strangely. I had imagined theengagement an invention for the moment. But after danger to me was pastSally would not have carried on a pretense, not even to win back MissSampson's respect. The fact was, Sally meant that engagement. If I didthe right thing now I would not lose her. 

But what was the right thing?

I was sorely perplexed and deeply touched. Never had I a harder taskthan that of the hour--to put her out of my mind. I went boldly toSteele's house. He was not there. There was nothing by which I couldtell when he had been there. The lamp might have been turned out ormight have burned out. The oil was low. I saw a good many tracks roundin the sandy walks. I did not recognize Steele's. 

As I hurried away I detected more than one of Steele's nearest neighborspeering at me from windows and doors. Then I went to Mrs. Hoden's. Shewas up and about and cheerful. The children were playing, manifestlywell cared for and content. Mrs. Hoden had not seen Steele since I had. Miss Samson had sent her servant. There was a very decided change in theatmosphere of Mrs. Hoden's home, and I saw that for her the worst waspast, and she was bravely, hopefully facing the future. 

From there, I hurried to the main street of Linrock and to that sectionwhere violence brooded, ready at any chance moment to lift its hydrahead. For that time of day the street seemed unusually quiet. Fewpedestrians were abroad and few loungers. There was a row of saddledhorses on each side of the street, the full extent of the block. 

I went into the big barroom of the Hope So. I had never seen the placeso full, nor had it ever seemed so quiet. The whole long bar was linedby shirt-sleeved men, with hats slouched back and vests flapping wide. Those who were not drinking were talking low. Half a dozen tables heldas many groups of dusty, motley men, some silent, others speaking andgesticulating, all earnest. 

At first glance I did not see any one in whom I had especial interest. The principal actors of my drama did not appear to be present. However, there were rough characters more in evidence than at any other time Ihad visited the saloon. Voices were too low for me to catch, but Ifollowed the direction of some of the significant gestures. Then I sawthat these half dozen tables were rather closely grouped and drawn backfrom the center of the big room. Next my quick sight took in a smashedtable and chairs, some broken bottles on the floor, and then a darksinister splotch of blood. 

I had no time to make inquiries, for my roving eye caught Frank Mortonin the doorway, and evidently he wanted to attract my attention. Heturned away and I followed. When I got outside, he was leaning againstthe hitching-rail. One look at this big rancher was enough for me to seethat he had been told my part in Steele's game, and that he himself hadroused to the Texas fighting temper. He had a clouded brow. He lookedsomber and thick. He seemed slow, heavy, guarded. 

"Howdy, Russ, " he said. "We've been wantin' you. "

"There's ten of us in town, all scattered round, ready. It's goin' tostart to-day. "

"Where's Steele?" was my first query. 

"Saw him less'n hour ago. He's somewhere close. He may show up anytime. "

"Is he all right?"

"Wai, he was pretty fit a little while back, " replied Mortonsignificantly. 

"What's come off? Tell me all. "

"Wai, the ball opened last night, I reckon. Jack Blome came swaggerin'in here askin' for Steele. We all knew what he was in town for. But lastnight he came out with it. Every man in the saloons, every man on thestreets heard Blome's loud an' longin' call for the Ranger. Blome's palstook it up and they all enjoyed themselves some. "

"Drinking hard?" I queried. 

"Nope--they didn't hit it up very hard. But they laid foundations. " Ofcourse, Steele was not to be seen last night. This morning Blome and hisgang were out pretty early. But they traveled alone. Blome just strolledup and down by himself. I watched him walk up this street on one sideand then down the other, just a matter of thirty-one times. I countedthem. For all I could see maybe Blome did not take a drink. But hisgang, especially Bo Snecker, sure looked on the red liquor. 

"By eleven o'clock everybody in town knew what was coming off. There wasno work or business, except in the saloons. Zimmer and I were together, and the rest of our crowd in pairs at different places. I reckon it wasabout noon when Blome got tired parading up and down. He went in theHope So, and the crowd followed. Zimmer stayed outside so to giveSteele a hunch in case he came along. I went in to see the show. 

"Wai, it was some curious to me, and I've lived all my life in Texas. But I never before saw a gunman on the job, so to say. Blome's ahandsome fellow, an' he seemed different from what I expected. Sure, Ithought he'd yell an' prance round like a drunken fool. But he was coolan' quiet enough. The bio win' an' drinkin' was done by his pals. Butafter a little while it got to me that Blome gloried in this situation. I've seen a man dead-set to kill another, all dark, sullen, restless. But Blome wasn't that way. He didn't seem at all like a bloody devil. Hewas vain, cocksure. He was revelin' in the effect he made. I had himfigured all right. 

"Blome sat on the edge of a table an' he faced the door. Of course, there was a pard outside, ready to pop in an' tell him if Steele wascomin'. But Steele didn't come in that way. He wasn't on the street justbefore that time, because Zimmer told me afterward. Steele must havebeen in the Hope So somewhere. Any way, just like he dropped from theclouds he came through the door near the bar. Blome didn't see him come. But most of the gang did, an' I want to tell you that big room wentpretty quiet. 

"'Hello Blome, I hear you're lookin' for me, ' called out Steele. 

"I don't know if he spoke ordinary or not, but his voice drew me up sameas it did the rest, an' damn me! Blome seemed to turn to stone. Hedidn't start or jump. He turned gray. An' I could see that he was tryin'to think in a moment when thinkin' was hard. Then Blome turned his head. Sure he expected to look into a six-shooter. But Steele was standin'back there in his shirt sleeves, his hands on his hips, and he lookedmore man than any one I ever saw. It's easy to remember the look of him, but how he made me feel, that isn't easy. 

"Blome was at a disadvantage. He was half sittin' on a table, an' Steelewas behind an' to the left of him. For Blome to make a move then wouldhave been a fool trick. He saw that. So did everybody. The crowd slidback without noise, but Bo Snecker an' a rustler named March stuck nearBlome. I figured this Bo Snecker as dangerous as Blome, an' resultsproved I was right. 

"Steele didn't choose to keep his advantage, so far as position inregard to Blome went. He just walked round in front of the rustler. Butthis put all the crowd in front of Steele, an' perhaps he had an eye forthat. 

"'I hear you've been looking for me, ' repeated the Ranger. 

"Blome never moved a muscle but he seemed to come to life. It struck methat Steele's presence had made an impression on Blome which was new tothe rustler. 

"'Yes, I have, ' replied Blome. 

"'Well, here I am. What do you want?'

"When everybody knew what Blome wanted and had intended, this questionof Steele's seemed strange on one hand. An' yet on the other, now thatthe Ranger stood there, it struck me as natural enough. 

"'If you heard I was lookin' for you, you sure heard what for, ' repliedBlome. 

"'Blome, my experience with such men as you is that you all brag onething behind my back an' you mean different when I show up. I've calledyou now. What do you mean?'

"'I reckon you know what Jack Blome means. '

"'Jack Blome! That name means nothin' to me. Blome, you've been braggin'around that you'd meet me--kill me! You thought you meant it, didn'tyou?'

"'Yes--I did mean it. '

"'All right. Go ahead!'

"The barroom became perfectly still, except for the slow breaths Iheard. There wasn't any movement anywhere. That queer gray came toBlome's face again. He might again have been stone. I thought, an' I'llgamble every one else watchin' thought, Blome would draw an' get killedin the act. But he never moved. Steele had cowed him. If Blome had beenheated by drink, or mad, or anythin' but what he was just then, maybe hemight have throwed a gun. But he didn't. I've heard of really brave mengettin' panicked like that, an' after seein' Steele I didn't wonder atBlome. 

"'You see, Blome, you don't want to meet me, for all your talk, ' went onthe Ranger. 'You thought you did, but that was before you faced the manyou intended to kill. Blome, you're one of these dandy, cock-of-the-walkfour-flushers. I'll tell you how I know. Because I've met the realgun-fighters, an' there never was one of them yet who bragged or talked. Now don't you go round blowin' any more. '

"Then Steele deliberately stepped forward an' slapped Blome on one sideof his face an' again on the other. 

"'Keep out of my way after this or I'm liable to spoil some of yourdandy looks. '

"Blome got up an' walked straight out of the place. I had my eyes onhim, kept me from seein' Steele. But on hearin' somethin', I don't knowwhat, I turned back an' there Steele had got a long arm on Bo Snecker, who was tryin' to throw a gun. 

"But he wasn't quick enough. The gun banged in the air an' then it wentspinnin' away, while Snecker dropped in a heap on the floor. The tablewas overturned, an' March, the other rustler, who was on that side, gotup, pullin' his gun. But somebody in the crowd killed him before hecould get goin'. I didn't see who fired that shot, an' neither didanybody else. But the crowd broke an' run. Steele dragged Bo Sneckerdown to jail an' locked him up. "

Morton concluded his narrative, and then evidently somewhat dry oftongue, he produced knife and tobacco and cut himself a huge quid. "That's all, so far, to-day, Russ, but I reckon you'll agree with me onthe main issue--Steele's game's opened. "

I had felt the rush of excitement, the old exultation at the prospect ofdanger, but this time there was something lacking in them. The wildnessof the boy that had persisted in me was gone. 

"Yes, Steele has opened it and I'm ready to boost the game along. Waittill I see him! But Morton, you say someone you don't know played a handin here and killed March. "

"I sure do. It wasn't any of our men. Zimmer was outside. The otherswere at different places. "

"The fact is, then, Steele has more friends than we know, perhaps morethan he knows himself. "

"Right. An' it's got the gang in the air. There'll be hell to-night. "

"Steele hardly expects to keep Snecker in jail, does he?"

"I can't say. Probably not. I wish Steele had put both Blome and Sneckerout of the way. We'd have less to fight. "

"Maybe. I'm for the elimination method myself. But Steele doesn't followout the gun method. He will use one only when he's driven. It's hard tomake him draw. You know, after all, these desperate men aren't afraid ofguns or fights. Yet they are afraid of Steele. Perhaps it's his nerve, the way he faces them, the things he says, the fact that he hasmysterious allies. "

"Russ, we're all with him, an' I'll gamble that the honest citizens ofLinrock will flock to him in another day. I can see signs of that. Therewere twenty or more men on Hoden's list, but Steele didn't want somany. "

"We don't need any more. Morton, can you give me any idea where Steeleis?"

"Not the slightest. "

"All right. I'll hunt for him. If you see him tell him to hole up, andthen you come after me. Tell him I've got our men spotted. "

"Russ, if you Ranger fellows ain't wonders!" exclaimed Morton, withshining eyes. 

Steele did not show himself in town again that day. Here his cunning wasmanifest. By four o'clock that afternoon Blome was drunk and he and hisrustlers went roaring up and down the street. There was some shooting, but I did not see or hear that any one got hurt. The lawless element, both native to Linrock and the visitors, followed in Blome's tracks fromsaloon to saloon. How often had I seen this sort of procession, thoughnot on so large a scale, in many towns of wild Texas!

The two great and dangerous things in Linrock at the hour were whiskyand guns. Under such conditions the rustlers were capable of any mad actof folly. 

Morton and his men sent word flying around town that a fight wasimminent and all citizens should be prepared to defend their homesagainst possible violence. But despite his warning I saw manyrespectable citizens abroad whose quiet, unobtrusive manner and watchfuleyes and hard faces told me that when trouble began they wanted to bethere. Verily Ranger Steele had built his house of service upon a rock. It did not seem too much to say that the next few days, perhaps hours, would see a great change in the character and a proportionate decreasein number of the inhabitants of this corner of Pecos County. 

Morton and I were in the crowd that watched Blome, Snecker, and a dozenother rustlers march down to Steele's jail. They had crowbars and theyhad cans of giant powder, which they had appropriated from a hardwarestore. If Steele had a jailer he was not in evidence. The door waswrenched off and Bo Snecker, evidently not wholly recovered, broughtforth to his cheering comrades. Then some of the rustlers began to urgeback the pressing circle, and the word given out acted as a spur tohaste. The jail was to be blown up. 

The crowd split and some men ran one way, some another. Morton and Iwere among those who hurried over the vacant ground to a little ridgethat marked the edge of the open country. From this vantage point weheard several rustlers yell in warning, then they fled for their lives. 

It developed that they might have spared themselves such headlongflight. The explosion appeared to be long in coming. At length we sawthe lifting of the roof in a cloud of red dust, and then heard anexceedingly heavy but low detonation. When the pall of dust drifted awayall that was left of Steele's jail was a part of the stone walls. Thebuilding that stood nearest, being constructed of adobe, had been badlydamaged. 

However, this wreck of the jail did not seem to satisfy Blome and hisfollowers, for amid wild yells and huzzahs they set to work withcrowbars and soon laid low every stone. Then with young Snecker in thefore they set off up town; and if this was not a gang in fit mood forany evil or any ridiculous celebration I greatly missed my guess. 

It was a remarkable fact, however, and one that convinced me of deviltryafoot, that the crowd broke up, dispersed, and actually disappeared offthe streets of Linrock. The impression given was that they weresatisfied. But this impression did not remain with me. Morton wasscarcely deceived either. I told him that I would almost certainly seeSteele early in the evening and that we would be out of harm's way. Hetold me that we could trust him and his men to keep sharp watch on thenight doings of Blome's gang. Then we parted. 

It was almost dark. By the time I had gotten something to eat and drinkat the Hope So, the hour for my meeting with Sally was about due. On theway out I did not pass a lighted house until I got to the end of thestreet; and then strange to say, that one was Steele's. I walked downpast the place, and though I was positive he would not be there Iwhistled low. I halted and waited. He had two lights lit, one in thekitchen, and one in the big room. The blinds were drawn. I saw a long, dark shadow cross one window and then, a little later, cross the other. This would have deceived me had I not remembered Steele's device forcasting the shadow. He had expected to have his house attacked at night, presumably while he was at home; but he had felt that it was notnecessary for him to stay there to make sure. Lawless men of this classwere sometimes exceedingly simple and gullible. 

Then I bent my steps across the open, avoiding road and path, to thefoot of the hill upon which Sampson's house stood. It was dark enoughunder the trees. I could hardly find my way to the secluded nook andbench where I had been directed to come. I wondered if Sally would beable to find it. Trust that girl! She might have a few qualms and comeshaking a little, but she would be there on the minute. 

I had hardly seated myself to wait when my keen ears detected something, then slight rustlings, then soft steps, and a dark form emerged from theblackness into the little starlit glade. Sally came swiftly towards meand right into my arms. That was sure a sweet moment. Through theexcitement and dark boding thoughts of the day, I had forgotten that shewould do just this thing. And now I anticipated tears, clingings, fears. But I was agreeably surprised. 

"Russ, are you all right?" she whispered. 

"Just at this moment I am, " I replied. 

Sally gave me another little hug, and then, disengaging herself from myarms, she sat down beside me. 

"I can only stay a minute. Oh, it's safe enough. But I told Diane I wasto meet you and she's waiting to hear if Steele is--is--"

"Steele's safe so far, " I interrupted. 

"There were men coming and going all day. Uncle Roger never appeared atmeals. He didn't eat, Diane said. George tramped up and down, smoking, biting his nails, listening for these messengers. When they'd leave he'dgo in for another drink. We heard him roar some one had been shot and wefeared it might be Steele. "

"No, " I replied, steadily. 

"Did Steele shoot anybody?"

"No. A rustler named March tried to draw on Steele, and someone in thecrowd killed March. "

"Someone? Russ, was it you?"

"It sure wasn't. I didn't happen to be there. "

"Ah! Then Steele has other men like you around him. I might have guessedthat. "

"Sally, Steele makes men his friends. It's because he's on the side ofjustice. "

"Diane will be glad to hear that. She doesn't think only of Steele'slife. I believe she has a secret pride in his work. And I've an ideawhat she fears most is some kind of a clash between Steele and herfather. "

"I shouldn't wonder. Sally, what does Diane know about her father?"

"Oh, she's in the dark. She got hold of papers that made her ask himquestions. And his answers made her suspicious. She realizes he's notwhat he has pretended to be all these years. But she never dreams herfather is a rustler chief. When she finds that out--" Sally broke offand I finished the sentence in thought. 

"Listen, Sally, " I said, suddenly. "I've an idea that Steele's housewill be attacked by the gang to-night, and destroyed, same as the jailwas this afternoon. These rustlers are crazy. They'll expect to kill himwhile he's there. But he won't be there. If you and Diane hear shootingand yelling to-night don't be frightened. Steele and I will be safe. "

"Oh, I hope so. Russ, I must hurry back. But, first, can't you arrange ameeting between Diane and Steele? It's her wish. She begged me to. Shemust see him. "

"I'll try, " I promised, knowing that promise would be hard to keep. 

"We could ride out from the ranch somewhere. You remember we used torest on the high ridge where there was a shady place--such a beautifuloutlook? It was there I--I--"

"My dear, you needn't bring up painful memories. I remember where. "

Sally laughed softly. She could laugh in the face of the gloomiestprospects. "Well, to-morrow morning, or the next, or any morning soon, you tie your red scarf on the dead branch of that high mesquite. I'lllook every morning with the glass. If I see the scarf, Diane and I willride out. "

"That's fine. Sally, you have ideas in your pretty little head. And onceI thought it held nothing but--" She put a hand on my mouth. "I must gonow, " she said and rose. She stood close to me and put her arms aroundmy neck. "One thing more, Russ. It--it was dif--difficult telling Dianewe--we were engaged. I lied to Uncle. But what else could I have toldDiane? I--I--Oh--was it--" She faltered. 

"Sally, you lied to Sampson to save me. But you must have accepted mebefore you could have told Diane the truth. "

"Oh, Russ, I had--in my heart! But it has been some time since you askedme--and--and--"

"You imagined my offer might have been withdrawn. Well, it stands. "

She slipped closer to me then, with that soft sinuousness of a woman, and I believed she might have kissed me had I not held back, toying withmy happiness. 

"Sally, do you love me?"

"Ever so much. Since the very first. "

"I'm a marshal, a Ranger like Steele, a hunter of criminals. It's a hardlife. There's spilling of blood. And any time I--I might--All the same, Sally--will you be my wife?"

"Oh, Russ! Yes. But let me tell you when your duty's done here that Iwill have a word to say about your future. It'll be news to you to learnI'm an orphan. And I'm not a poor one. I own a plantation in Louisiana. I'll make a planter out of you. There!"

"Sally! You're rich?" I exclaimed. 

"I'm afraid I am. But nobody can ever say you married me for my money. "

"Well, no, not if you tell of my abject courtship when I thought you apoor relation on a visit. My God! Sally, if I only could see this Rangerjob through safely and to success!"

"You will, " she said softly. 

Then I took a ring from my little finger and slipped it on hers. "Thatwas my sister's. She's dead now. No other girl ever wore it. Let it beyour engagement ring. Sally, I pray I may somehow get through this awfulRanger deal to make you happy, to become worthy of you!"

"Russ, I fear only one thing, " she whispered. 

"And what's that?"

"There will be fighting. And you--oh, I saw into your eyes the othernight when you stood with your hands up. You would kill anybody, Russ. It's awful! But don't think me a baby. I can conceive what your work is, what a man you must be. I can love you and stick to you, too. But if youkilled a blood relative of mine I would have to give you up. I'm aSoutherner, Russ, and blood is thick. I scorn my uncle and I hate mycousin George. And I love you. But don't you kill one of my family, I--Oh, I beg of you go as far as you dare to avoid that!"

I could find no voice to answer her, and for a long moment we werelocked in an embrace, breast to breast and lips to lips, an embrace ofsweet pain. 

Then she broke away, called a low, hurried good-by, and stole like ashadow into the darkness. 

An hour later I lay in the open starlight among the stones and brush, out where Steele and I always met. He lay there with me, but while Ilooked up at the stars he had his face covered with his hands. For I hadgiven him my proofs of the guilt of Diane Sampson's father. 

Steele had made one comment: "I wish to God I'd sent for some fool who'dhave bungled the job!"

This was a compliment to me, but it showed what a sad pass Steele hadcome to. My regret was that I had no sympathy to offer him. I failed himthere. I had trouble of my own. The feel of Sally's clinging arms aroundmy neck, the warm, sweet touch of her lips remained on mine. What Steelewas enduring I did not know, but I felt that it was agony. 

Meanwhile time passed. The blue, velvety sky darkened as the stars grewbrighter. The wind grew stronger and colder. I heard sand blowingagainst the stones like the rustle of silk. Otherwise it was asingularly quiet night. I wondered where the coyotes were and longed fortheir chorus. By and by a prairie wolf sent in his lonely lament fromthe distant ridges. That mourn was worse than the silence. It made thecold shudders creep up and down my back. It was just the cry that seemedto be the one to express my own trouble. No one hearing that long-drawn, quivering wail could ever disassociate it from tragedy. By and by itceased, and then I wished it would come again. Steele lay like the stonebeside him. Was he ever going to speak? Among the vagaries of my moodwas a petulant desire to have him sympathize with me. 

I had just looked at my watch, making out in the starlight that the hourwas eleven, when the report of a gun broke the silence. 

I jumped up to peer over the stone. Steele lumbered up beside me, and Iheard him draw his breath hard. 

Chapter 11

THE FIGHT IN THE HOPE SO

I could plainly see the lights of his adobe house, but of course, nothing else was visible. There were no other lighted houses near. Several flashes gleamed, faded swiftly, to be followed by reports, andthen the unmistakable jingle of glass. 

"I guess the fools have opened up, Steele, " I said. His response was anangry grunt. It was just as well, I concluded, that things had begun tostir. Steele needed to be roused. 

Suddenly a single sharp yell pealed out. Following it came a huge flareof light, a sheet of flame in which a great cloud of smoke or dust shotup. Then, with accompanying darkness, burst a low, deep, thunderousboom. The lights of the house went out, then came a crash. Points oflight flashed in a half-circle and the reports of guns blended with theyells of furious men, and all these were swallowed up in the roar of amob. 

Another and a heavier explosion momentarily lightened the darkness andthen rent the air. It was succeeded by a continuous volley and a steadysound that, though composed of yells, screams, cheers, was not anythingbut a hideous roar of hate. It kept up long after there could have beenany possibility of life under the ruins of that house. It was more thanhate of Steele. All that was wild and lawless and violent hurled thisdeed at the Ranger Service. 

Such events had happened before in Texas and other states; but, strangely, they never happened more than once in one locality. They wereexpressions, perhaps, that could never come but once. 

I watched Steele through all that hideous din, that manifestation ofinsane rage at his life and joy at his death, and when silence once morereigned and he turned his white face to mine, I had a sensation ofdread. And dread was something particularly foreign to my nature. 

"So Blome and the Sneckers think they've done for me, " he muttered. 

"Pleasant surprise for them to-morrow, eh, old man?" I queried. 

"To-morrow? Look, Russ, what's left of my old 'dobe house is on fire. Theruins can't be searched soon. And I was particular to fix things so it'dlook like I was home. I just wanted to give them a chance. It'sincomprehensible how easy men like them can be duped. Whisky-soaked!Yes, they'll be surprised!"

He lingered a while, watching the smoldering fire and the dim columns ofsmoke curling up against the dark blue. "Russ, do you suppose they heardup at the ranch and think I'm--"

"They heard, of course, " I replied. "But the girls know you're safe withme. "

"Safe? I--I almost wish to God I was there under that heap of ruins, where the rustlers think they've left me. "

"Well, Steele, old fellow, come on. We need some sleep. " With Steele inthe lead, we stalked away into the open. 

Two days later, about the middle of the forenoon, I sat upon a greatflat rock in the shade of a bushy mesquite, and, besides enjoying thevast, clear sweep of gold and gray plain below, I was otherwisepleasantly engaged. Sally sat as close to me as she could get, holdingto my arm as if she never intended to let go. On the other side MissSampson leaned against me, and she was white and breathless, partly fromthe quick ride out from the ranch, partly from agitation. She had grownthinner, and there were dark shadows under her eyes, yet she seemed onlymore beautiful. The red scarf with which I had signaled the girls wavedfrom a branch of the mesquite. At the foot of the ridge their horseswere halted in a shady spot. 

"Take off your sombrero, " I said to Sally. "You look hot. Besides, you're prettier with your hair flying. " As she made no move, I took itoff for her. Then I made bold to perform the same office for MissSampson. She faintly smiled her thanks. Assuredly she had forgotten allher resentment. There were little beads of perspiration upon her whitebrow. What a beautiful mass of black-brown hair, with strands of red orgold! Pretty soon she would be bending that exquisite head and face overpoor Steele, and I, who had schemed this meeting, did not care what hemight do to me. 

Pretty soon, also, there was likely to be an interview that would shakeus all to our depths, and naturally, I was somber at heart. But thoughmy outward mood of good humor may have been pretense, it certainly was apleasure to be with the girls again way out in the open. Both girls werequiet, and this made my task harder, and perhaps in my anxiety to wardoff questions and appear happy for their own sakes I made an ass ofmyself with my silly talk and familiarity. Had ever a Ranger such a jobas mine?

"Diane, did Sally show you her engagement ring?" I went on, bound totalk. 

Miss Sampson either did not notice my use of her first name or she didnot object. She seemed so friendly, so helplessly wistful. "Yes. It'svery pretty. An antique. I've seen a few of them, " she replied. 

"I hope you'll let Sally marry me soon. "

"_Let_ her? Sally Langdon? You haven't become acquainted with yourfiancee. But when--"

"Oh, next week, just as soon--"

"Russ!" cried Sally, blushing furiously. 

"What's the matter?" I queried innocently. 

"You're a little previous. "

"Well, Sally, I don't presume to split hairs over dates. But, you see, you've become extremely more desirable--in the light of certainrevelations. Diane, wasn't Sally the deceitful thing? An heiress all thetime! And I'm to be a planter and smoke fine cigars and drink mintjuleps! No, there won't be any juleps. "

"Russ, you're talking nonsense, " reproved Sally. "Surely it's no time tobe funny. "

"All right, " I replied with resignation. It was no task to discard thathollow mask of humor. A silence ensued, and I waited for it to bebroken. 

"Is Steele badly hurt?" asked Miss Sampson presently. 

"No. Not what he or I'd call hurt at all. He's got a scalp wound, wherea bullet bounced off his skull. It's only a scratch. Then he's gotanother in the shoulder; but it's not bad, either. "

"Where is he now?"

"Look across on the other ridge. See the big white stone? There, downunder the trees, is our camp. He's there. "

"When may--I see him?" There was a catch in her low voice. 

"He's asleep now. After what happened yesterday he was exhausted, andthe pain in his head kept him awake till late. Let him sleep a whileyet. Then you can see him. "

"Did he know we were coming?"

"He hadn't the slightest idea. He'll be overjoyed to see you. He can'thelp that. But he'll about fall upon me with harmful intent. "

"Why?"

"Well, I know he's afraid to see you. "

"Why?"

"Because it only makes his duty harder. "

"Ah!" she breathed. 

It seemed to me that my intelligence confirmed a hope of hers and gaveher relief. I felt something terrible in the balance for Steele. And Iwas glad to be able to throw them together. The catastrophe must fall, and now the sooner it fell the better. But I experienced a tightening ofmy lips and a tugging at my heart-strings. 

"Sally, what do you and Diane know about the goings-on in townyesterday?" I asked. 

"Not much. George was like an insane man. I was afraid to go near him. Uncle wore a sardonic smile. I heard him curse George--oh, terribly! Ibelieve he hates George. Same as day before yesterday, there were menriding in and out. But Diane and I heard only a little, and conflictingstatements at that. We knew there was fighting. Dick and the servants, the cowboys, all brought rumors. Steele was killed at least ten timesand came to life just as many. 

"I can't recall, don't want to recall, all we heard. But this morningwhen I saw the red scarf flying in the wind--well, Russ, I was so glad Icould not see through the glass any more. We knew then Steele was allright or you wouldn't have put up the signal. "

"Reckon few people in Linrock realize just what _did_ come off, " Ireplied with a grim chuckle. 

"Russ, I want you to tell me, " said Miss Sampson earnestly. 

"What?" I queried sharply. 

"About yesterday--what Steele did--what happened. "

"Miss Sampson, I could tell you in a few short statements of fact or Icould take two hours in the telling. Which do you prefer?"

"I prefer the long telling. I want to know all about him. "

"But why, Miss Sampson? Consider. This is hardly a story for asensitive woman's ears. "

"I am no coward, " she replied, turning eyes to me that flashed like darkfire. 

"But why?" I persisted. I wanted a good reason for calling up all thedetails of the most strenuous and terrible day in my border experience. She was silent a moment. I saw her gaze turn to the spot where Steelelay asleep, and it was a pity he could not see her eyes then. "Frankly, I don't want to tell you, " I added, and I surely would have been glad toget out of the job. 

"I want to hear--because I glory in his work, " she replied deliberately. 

I gathered as much from the expression of her face as from the deep ringof her voice, the clear content of her statement. She loved the Ranger, but that was not all of her reason. 

"His work?" I echoed. "Do you want him to succeed in it?"

"With all my heart, " she said, with a white glow on her face. 

"My God!" I ejaculated. I just could not help it. I felt Sally's smallfingers clutching my arm like sharp pincers. I bit my lips to keep themshut. What if Steele had heard her say that? Poor, noble, justice-loving, blind girl! She knew even less than I hoped. I forced mythought to the question immediately at hand. She gloried in the Ranger'swork. She wanted with all her heart to see him succeed in it. She had awoman's pride in his manliness. Perhaps, with a woman's complex, incomprehensible motive, she wanted Steele to be shown to her in all thepower that made him hated and feared by lawless men. She had finallyaccepted the wild life of this border as something terrible andinevitable, but passing. Steele was one of the strange and great andmisunderstood men who were making that wild life pass. 

For the first time I realized that Miss Sampson, through sharpened eyesof love, saw Steele as he really was--a wonderful and necessaryviolence. Her intelligence and sympathy had enabled her to see throughdefamation and the false records following a Ranger; she had had nochoice but to love him; and then a woman's glory in a work that freedmen, saved women, and made children happy effaced forever the horror ofa few dark deeds of blood. 

"Miss Sampson, I must tell you first, " I began, and hesitated--"that I'mnot a cowboy. My wild stunts, my drinking and gaming--these were allpretense. "

"Indeed! I am very glad to hear it. And was Sally in your confidence?"

"Only lately. I am a United States deputy marshal in the service ofSteele. "

She gave a slight start, but did not raise her head. 

"I have deceived you. But, all the same, I've been your friend. I askyou to respect my secret a little while. I'm telling you becauseotherwise my relation to Steele yesterday would not be plain. Now, ifyou and Sally will use this blanket, make yourselves more comfortableseats, I'll begin my story. "

Miss Sampson allowed me to arrange a place for her where she could restat ease, but Sally returned to my side and stayed there. She was anenigma to-day--pale, brooding, silent--and she never looked at me exceptwhen my face was half averted. 

"Well, " I began, "night before last Steele and I lay hidden among therocks near the edge of town, and we listened to and watched thedestruction of Steele's house. It had served his purpose to leave lightsburning, to have shadows blow across the window-blinds, and to have adummy in his bed. Also, he arranged guns to go off inside the house atthe least jar. Steele wanted evidence against his enemies. It was notthe pleasantest kind of thing to wait there listening to that drunkenmob. There must have been a hundred men. The disturbance and the intentworked strangely upon Steele. It made him different. In the dark Icouldn't tell how he looked, but I felt a mood coming in him that fairlymade me dread the next day. 

"About midnight we started for our camp here. Steele got in some sleep, but I couldn't. I was cold and hot by turns, eager and backward, furiousand thoughtful. You see, the deal was such a complicated one, andto-morrow certainly was nearing the climax. By morning I was sick, distraught, gloomy, and uncertain. I had breakfast ready when Steeleawoke. I hated to look at him, but when I did it was like being revived. 

"He said: 'Russ, you'll trail alongside me to-day and through the restof this mess. '

"That gave me another shock. I want to explain to you girls that thiswas the first time in my life I was backward at the prospects of afight. The shock was the jump of my pulse. My nerve came back. To lineup with Steele against Blome and his gang--that would be great!

"'All right, old man, ' I replied. 'We're going after them, then?'

"He only nodded. 

"After breakfast I watched him clean and oil and reload his guns. Ididn't need to ask him if he expected to use them. I didn't need to urgeupon him Captain Neal's command. 

"'Russ, ' said Steele, 'we'll go in together. But before we get to townI'll leave you and circle and come in at the back of the Hope So. Youhurry on ahead, post Morton and his men, get the lay of the gang, ifpossible, and then be at the Hope So when I come in. '

"I didn't ask him if I had a free hand with my gun. I intended to havethat. We left camp and hurried toward town. It was near noon when weseparated. 

"I came down the road, apparently from Sampson's ranch. There was acrowd around the ruins of Steele's house. It was one heap of crumbled'dobe bricks and burned logs, still hot and smoking. No attempt had beenmade to dig into the ruins. The curious crowd was certain that Steelelay buried under all that stuff. One feature of that night assault mademe ponder. Daylight discovered the bodies of three dead men, rustlers, who had been killed, the report went out, by random shots. Otherparticipants in the affair had been wounded. I believed Morton and hismen, under cover of the darkness and in the melee, had sent in someshots not calculated upon the program. 

"From there I hurried to town. Just as I had expected, Morton and Zimmerwere lounging in front of the Hope So. They had company, disreputableand otherwise. As yet Morton's crowd had not come under suspicion. Hewas wild for news of Steele, and when I gave it, and outlined the plan, he became as cool and dark and grim as any man of my kind could havewished. He sent Zimmer to get the others of their clique. Then heacquainted me with a few facts, although he was noncommittal in regardto my suspicion as to the strange killing of the three rustlers. 

"Blome, Bo Snecker, Hilliard, and Pickens, the ringleaders, had paintedthe town in celebration of Steele's death. They all got gloriously drunkexcept old man Snecker. He had cold feet, they said. They were too happyto do any more shooting or mind what the old rustler cautioned. It wastwo o'clock before they went to bed. 

"This morning, after eleven, one by one they appeared with theirfollowers. The excitement had died down. Ranger Steele was out of theway and Linrock was once more wide open, free and easy. Blome aloneseemed sullen and spiritless, unresponsive to his comrades and theiradmirers. And now, at the time of my arrival, the whole gang, with theexception of old Snecker, were assembled in the Hope So. 

"'Zimmer will be clever enough to drift his outfit along one or two at atime?' I asked Morton, and he reassured me. Then we went into thesaloon. 

"There were perhaps sixty or seventy men in the place, more than half ofwhom were in open accord with Blome's gang. Of the rest there were manyof doubtful repute, and a few that might have been neutral, yet all thetime were secretly burning to help any cause against these rustlers. Atall events, I gathered that impression from the shadowed faces, thetense bodies, the too-evident indication of anything but carelesspresence there. The windows were open. The light was clear. Few mensmoked, but all had a drink before them. There was the ordinary subduedhum of conversation. I surveyed the scene, picked out my position so asto be close to Steele when he entered, and sauntered round to it. Mortonaimlessly leaned against a post. 

"Presently Zimmer came in with a man and they advanced to the bar. Othermen entered as others went out. Blome, Bo Snecker, Hilliard, and Pickenshad a table full in the light of the open windows. I recognized thefaces of the two last-named, but I had not, until Morton informed me, known who they were. Pickens was little, scrubby, dusty, sandy, mottled, and he resembled a rattlesnake. Hilliard was big, gaunt, bronzed, withhuge mustache and hollow, fierce eyes. I never had seen a grave-robber, but I imagined one would be like Hilliard. Bo Snecker was a sleek, slim, slender, hard-looking boy, marked dangerous, because he was too youngand too wild to have caution or fear. Blome, the last of the bunch, showed the effects of a bad night. 

"You girls remember how handsome he was, but he didn't look it now. Hisface was swollen, dark, red, and as it had been bright, now it was dull. Indeed, he looked sullen, shamed, sore. He was sober now. Thought waswritten on his clouded brow. He was awakening now to the truth that theday before had branded him a coward and sent him out to bolster upcourage with drink. His vanity had begun to bleed. He knew, if hisfaithful comrades had not awakened to it yet, that his prestige had beenruined. For a gunman, he had suffered the last degradation. He had beenbidden to draw and he had failed of the nerve. 

"He breathed heavily; his eyes were not clear; his hands were shaky. Almost I pitied this rustler who very soon must face an incredibly swiftand mercilessly fatal Ranger. Face him, too, suddenly, as if the gravehad opened to give up its dead. 

"Friends and comrades of this center group passed to and fro, and therewas much lazy, merry, though not loud, talk. The whole crowd was stillhalf-asleep. It certainly was an auspicious hour for Steele to confrontthem, since that duty was imperative. No man knew the stunningparalyzing effect of surprise better than Steele. I, of course, musttake my cue from him, or the sudden development of events. 

"But Jack Blome did not enter into my calculations. I gave him, at most, about a minute to live after Steele entered the place. I meant to keepsharp eyes all around. I knew, once with a gun out, Steele could killBlome's comrades at the table as quick as lightning, if he chose. Irather thought my game was to watch his outside partners. This wasright, and as it turned out, enabled me to save Steele's life. 

"Moments passed and still the Ranger did not come. I began to getnervous. Had he been stopped? I scouted the idea. Who could have stoppedhim, then? Probably the time seemed longer than it really was. Mortonshowed the strain, also. Other men looked drawn, haggard, waiting as ifexpecting a thunderbolt. Once in my roving gaze I caught Blandy's glintyeye on me. I didn't like the gleam. I said to myself I'd watch him if Ihad to do it out of the back of my head. Blandy, by the way, is--was--Ishould say, the Hope So bartender. " I stopped to clear my throat and getmy breath. 

"Was, " whispered Sally. She quivered with excitement. Miss Sampson benteyes upon me that would have stirred a stone man. 

"Yes, he was once, " I replied ambiguously, but mayhap my grimnessbetrayed the truth. "Don't hurry me, Sally. I guarantee you'll be sickenough presently. 

"Well, I kept my eyes shifty. And I reckon I'll never forget that room. Likely I saw what wasn't really there. In the excitement, the suspense, I must have made shadows into real substance. Anyway, there was thehalf-circle of bearded, swarthy men around Blome's table. There were thefour rustlers--Blome brooding, perhaps vaguely, spiritually, listeningto a knock; there was Bo Snecker, reckless youth, fondling a flower hehad, putting the stem in his glass, then to his lips, and lastly intothe buttonhole of Blome's vest; there was Hilliard, big, gloomy, maybewith his cavernous eyes seeing the hell where I expected he'd soon be;and last, the little dusty, scaly Pickens, who looked about to leap andsting some one. 

"In the lull of the general conversation I heard Pickens say: 'Jack, drink up an' come out of it. Every man has an off day. You've gambledlong enough to know every feller gits called. An' as Steele has cashed, what the hell do you care?

"Hilliard nodded his ghoul's head and blinked his dead eyes. Bo Sneckerlaughed. It wasn't any different laugh from any other boy's. Iremembered then that he killed Hoden. I began to sweat fire. WouldSteele ever come?

"'Jim, the ole man hed cold feet an' he's give 'em to Jack, ' said Bo. 'It ain't nothin' to lose your nerve once. Didn't I run like a scaredjack-rabbit from Steele? Watch me if he comes to life, as the ole manhinted!'

"'About mebbe Steele wasn't in the 'dobe at all. Aw, thet's a joke! Iseen him in bed. I seen his shadder. I heard his shots comin' from theroom. Jack, you seen an' heerd same as me. '

"'Sure. I know the Ranger's cashed, ' replied Blome. 'It's not that. I'msore, boys. '

"'Deader 'n a door-nail in hell!' replied Pickens, louder, as he liftedhis glass. 'Here's to Lone Star Steele's ghost! An' if I seen it thisminnit I'd ask it to waltz with me!'

"The back door swung violently, and Steele, huge as a giant, plungedthrough and leaped square in front of that table. 

"Some one of them let out a strange, harsh cry. It wasn't Blome orSnecker--probably Pickens. He dropped the glass he had lifted. The cryhad stilled the room, so the breaking of the glass was plainly heard. For a space that must have been short, yet seemed long, everybody stoodtight. Steele with both hands out and down, leaned a little, in a way Ihad never seen him do. It was the position of a greyhound, but that wasmerely the body of him. Steele's nerve, his spirit, his meaning wasthere, like lightning about to strike. Blome maintained a ghastly, stricken silence. 

"Then the instant was plain when he realized this was no ghost ofSteele, but the Ranger in the flesh. Blome's whole frame rippled asthought jerked him out of his trance. His comrades sat stone-still. ThenHilliard and Pickens dived without rising from the table. Their hastebroke the spell. 

"I wish I could tell it as quick as it happened. But Bo Snecker, turningwhite as a sheet, stuck to Blome. All the others failed him, as he hadguessed they would fail. Low curses and exclamations were uttered by mensliding and pressing back, but the principals were mute. I was thinkinghard, yet I had no time to get to Steele's side. I, like the rest, washeld fast. But I kept my eyes sweeping around, then back again to thatcenter pair. 

"Blome slowly rose. I think he did it instinctively. Because if he hadexpected his first movement to start the action he never would havemoved. Snecker sat partly on the rail of his chair, with both feetsquare on the floor, and he never twitched a muscle. There was astriking difference in the looks of these two rustlers. Snecker hadburning holes for eyes in his white face. At the last he was staunch, defiant, game to the core. He didn't think. But Blome faced death andknew it. It was infinitely more than the facing of foes, the taking ofstock, preliminary to the even break. Blome's attitude was that of atrapped wolf about to start into savage action; nevertheless, equally itwas the pitifully weak stand of a ruffian against ruthless and powerfullaw. 

"The border of Pecos County could have had no greater lesson thanthis--Blome face-to-face with the Ranger. That part of the borderpresent saw its most noted exponent of lawlessness a coward, almostpowerless to go for his gun, fatally sure of his own doom. 

"But that moment, seeming so long, really so short, had to end. Blomemade a spasmodic upheaval of shoulder and arm. Snecker a second laterflashed into movement. 

"Steele blurred in my sight. His action couldn't be followed. But I sawhis gun, waving up, flame red once--twice--and the reports almost boomedtogether. 

"Blome bent forward, arm down, doubled up, and fell over the table andslid to the floor. 

"But Snecker's gun cracked with Steele's last shot. I heard the bulletstrike Steele. It made me sick as if it had hit me. But Steele neverbudged. Snecker leaped up, screaming, his gun sputtering to the floor. His left hand swept to his right arm, which had been shattered bySteele's bullet. 

"Blood streamed everywhere. His screams were curses, and then ended, testifying to a rage hardly human. Then, leaping, he went down on hisknees after the gun. 

"Don't pick it up, " called Steele; his command would have checked anyonesave an insane man. For an instant it even held Snecker. On his knees, right arm hanging limp, left extended, and face ghastly with agony andfiendish fury, he was certainly an appalling sight. 

"'Bo, you're courtin' death, ' called a hard voice from the crowd. 

"'Snecker, wait. Don't make me kill you!' cried Steele swiftly. 'You'restill a boy. Surrender! You'll outlive your sentence many years. Ipromise clemency. Hold, you fool!'

"But Snecker was not to be denied the last game move. He scrabbled forhis gun. Just then something, a breathtaking intuition--I'll never knowwhat--made me turn my head. I saw the bartender deliberately aim a hugegun at Steele. If he had not been so slow, I would have been too late. Iwhirled and shot. Talk about nick of time! Blandy pulled trigger just asmy bullet smashed into his head. 

"He dropped dead behind the bar and his gun dropped in front. But he hadhit Steele. 

"The Ranger staggered, almost fell. I thought he was done, and, yelling, I sped to him. 

"But he righted himself. Then I wheeled again. Someone in the crowdkilled Bo Snecker as he wobbled up with his gun. That was the signal fora wild run for outdoors, for cover. I heard the crack of guns andwhistle of lead. I shoved Steele back of the bar, falling over Blandy asI did so. 

"When I got up Steele was leaning over the bar with a gun in each hand. There was a hot fight then for a minute or so, but I didn't fire a shot. Morton and his crowd were busy. Men ran everywhere, shooting, ducking, cursing. The room got blue with smoke till you couldn't see, and thenthe fight changed to the street. 

"Steele and I ran out. There was shooting everywhere. Morton's crowdappeared to be in pursuit of rustlers in all directions. I ran withSteele, and did not observe his condition until suddenly he fell rightdown in the street. Then he looked so white and so bloody I thought he'dstopped another bullet and--"

Here Miss Sampson's agitation made it necessary for me to halt my story, and I hoped she had heard enough. But she was not sick, as Sallyappeared to me; she simply had been overcome by emotion. And presently, with a blaze in her eyes that showed how her soul was aflame withrighteous wrath at these rustlers and ruffians, and how, whether sheknew it or not, the woman in her loved a fight, she bade me go on. So Ipersevered, and, with poor little Sally sagging against me, I went onwith the details of that fight. 

I told how Steele rebounded from his weakness and could no more havebeen stopped than an avalanche. For all I saw, he did not use his gunsagain. Here, there, everywhere, as Morton and his squad cornered arustler, Steele would go in, ordering surrender, promising protection. He seemed to have no thoughts of bullets. I could not hold him back, andit was hard to keep pace with him. How many times he was shot at I hadno idea, but it was many. He dragged forth this and that rustler, andturned them all over to Morton to be guarded. More than once heprotected a craven rustler from the summary dealing Morton wanted to seein order. 

I told Miss Sampson particularly how Steele appeared to me, what hiseffect was on these men, how toward the end of the fight rustlers wereappealing to him to save them from these new-born vigilantes. I believedI drew a picture of the Ranger that would live forever in her heart ofhearts. If she were a hero-worshiper she would have her fill. 

One thing that was strange to me--leaving fight, action, blood, perilout of the story--the singular exultation, for want of some better term, that I experienced in recalling Steele's look, his wonderful cold, resistless, inexplicable presence, his unquenchable spirit which was atonce deadly and merciful. Other men would have killed where he saved. Irecalled this magnificent spiritual something about him, remembered itstrongest in the ring of his voice as he appealed to Bo Snecker not toforce him to kill. Then I told how we left a dozen prisoners under guardand went back to the Hope So to find Blome where he had fallen. Steele'sbullet had cut one of the petals of the rose Snecker had playfully putin the rustler's buttonhole. Bright and fatal target for an eye likeSteele's! Bo Snecker lay clutching his gun, his face set rigidly in thatlast fierce expression of his savage nature. There were five other deadmen on the floor, and, significant of the work of Steele's unknownallies, Hilliard and Pickens were among them. 

"Steele and I made for camp then, " I concluded. "We didn't speak a wordon the way out. When we reached camp all Steele said was for me to gooff and leave him alone. He looked sick. I went off, only not very far. I knew what was wrong with him, and it wasn't bullet-wounds. I was nearwhen he had his spell and fought it out. 

"Strange how spilling blood affects some men! It never bothered me much. I hope I'm human, too. I certainly felt an awful joy when I sent thatbullet into Blandy's bloated head in time. And I'll always feel that wayabout it. But Steele's different. "

Chapter 12

TORN TWO WAYS

Steele lay in a shady little glade, partly walled by the masses ofupreared rocks that we used as a lookout point. He was asleep, yet farfrom comfortable. The bandage I had put around his head had been madefrom strips of soiled towel, and, having collected sundry bloody spots, it was an unsightly affair. There was a blotch of dried blood down oneside of Steele's face. His shirt bore more dark stains, and in one placewas pasted fast to his shoulder where a bandage marked the location ofhis other wound. A number of green flies were crawling over him andbuzzing around his head. He looked helpless, despite his giant size; andcertainly a great deal worse off than I had intimated, and, in fact, than he really was. 

Miss Sampson gasped when she saw him and both her hands flew to herbreast. 

"Girls, don't make any noise, " I whispered. "I'd rather he didn't wakesuddenly to find you here. Go round behind the rocks there. I'll wakehim, and call you presently. "

They complied with my wish, and I stepped down to Steele and gave him alittle shake. He awoke instantly. 

"Hello!" I said, "Want a drink?"

"Water or champagne?" he inquired. 

I stared at him. "I've some champagne behind the rocks, " I added. 

"Water, you locoed son of a gun!"

He looked about as thirsty as a desert coyote; also, he looked flighty. I was reaching for the canteen when I happened to think what pleasure itwould be to Miss Sampson to minister to him, and I drew back. "Wait alittle. " Then with an effort I plunged. "Vaughn, listen. Miss Sampsonand Sally are here. "

I thought he was going to jump up, he started so violently, and Ipressed him back. 

"She--Why, she's been here all the time--Russ, you haven'tdouble-crossed me?"

"Steele!" I exclaimed. He was certainly out of his head. 

"Pure accident, old man. "

He appeared to be half stunned, yet an eager, strange, haunting lookshone in his eyes. "Fool!" he exclaimed. 

"Can't you make the ordeal easier for her?" I asked. 

"This'll be hard on Diane. She's got to be told things!"

"Ah!" breathed Steele, sinking back. "Make it easier for her--Russ, you're a damned schemer. You have given me the double-cross. You haveand she's going to. "

"We're in bad, both of us, " I replied thickly. "I've ideas, crazy enoughmaybe. I'm between the devil and the deep sea, I tell you. I'm aboutready to show yellow. All the same, I say, see Miss Sampson and talk toher, even if you can't talk straight. "

"All right, Russ, " he replied hurriedly. "But, God, man, don't I look asight! All this dirt and blood!"

"Well, old man, if she takes that bungled mug of yours in her lap, youcan be sure you're loved. You needn't jump out of your boots! Brace upnow, for I'm going to bring the girls. " As I got up to go I heard himgroan. I went round behind the stones and found the girls. "Come on, " Isaid. "He's awake now, but a little queer. Feverish. He gets that waysometimes. It won't last long. " I led Miss Sampson and Sally back intothe shade of our little camp glade. 

Steele had gotten worse all in a moment. Also, the fool had pulled thebandage off his head; his wound had begun to bleed anew, and the flieswere paying no attention to his weak efforts to brush them away. Hishead rolled as we reached his side, and his eyes were certainly wild andwonderful and devouring enough. "Who's that?" he demanded. 

"Easy there, old man, " I replied. "I've brought the girls. " Miss Sampsonshook like a leaf in the wind. 

"So you've come to see me die?" asked Steele in a deep and hollow voice. Miss Sampson gave me a lightning glance of terror. 

"He's only off his head, " I said. "Soon as we wash and bathe his head, cool his temperature, he'll be all right. "

"Oh!" cried Miss Sampson, and dropped to her knees, flinging her glovesaside. She lifted Steele's head into her lap. When I saw her tearsfalling upon his face I felt worse than a villain. She bent over him fora moment, and one of the tender hands at his cheeks met the flow offresh blood and did not shrink. "Sally, " she said, "bring the scarf outof my coat. There's a veil too. Bring that. Russ, you get me somewater--pour some in the pan there. "

"Water!" whispered Steele. 

She gave him a drink. Sally came with the scarf and veil, and then shebacked away to the stone, and sat there. The sight of blood had made hera little pale and weak. Miss Sampson's hands trembled and her tearsstill fell, but neither interfered with her tender and skillful dressingof that bullet wound. 

Steele certainly said a lot of crazy things. "But why'd you come--why'reyou so good--when you don't love me?"

"Oh, but--I do--love you, " whispered Miss Sampson brokenly. 

"How do I know?"

"I am here. I tell you. "

There was a silence, during which she kept on bathing his head, and hekept on watching her. "Diane!" he broke out suddenly. 

"Yes--yes. "

"That won't stop the pain in my head. "

"Oh, I hope so. "

"Kiss me--that will, " he whispered. She obeyed as a child might have, and kissed his damp forehead close to the red furrow where the bulletcut. 

"Not there, " Steele whispered. 

Then blindly, as if drawn by a magnet, she bent to his lips. I could notturn away my head, though my instincts were delicate enough. I believethat kiss was the first kiss of love for both Diane Sampson and VaughnSteele. It was so strange and so long, and somehow beautiful. Steelelooked rapt. I could only see the side of Diane's face, and that waswhite, like snow. After she raised her head she seemed unable, for amoment, to take up her task where it had been broken off, and Steele layas if he really were dead. Here I got up, and seating myself besideSally, I put an arm around her. "Sally dear, there are others, " I said. 

"Oh, Russ--what's to come of it all?" she faltered, and then she brokedown and began to cry softly. I would have been only too glad to tellher what hung in the balance, one way or another, had I known. Butsurely, catastrophe! Then I heard Steele's voice again and itshuskiness, its different tone, made me fearful, made me strain my earswhen I tried, or thought I tried, not to listen. 

"Diane, you know how hard my duty is, don't you?"

"Yes, I know--I think I know. "

"You've guessed--about your father?"

"I've seen all along you must clash. But it needn't be so bad. If I canonly bring you two together--Ah! please don't speak any more. You'reexcited now, just not yourself. "

"No, listen. We must clash, your father and I. Diane, he's not--"

"Not what he seems! Oh, I know, to my sorrow. "

"What do you know?" She seemed drawn by a will stronger thanher own. "To my shame I know. He has been greedy, crafty, unscrupulous--dishonest. "

"Diane, if he were only that! That wouldn't make my duty torture. Thatwouldn't ruin your life. Dear, sweet girl, forgive me--your father's--"

"Hush, Vaughn. You're growing excited. It will not do. Please--please--"

"Diane, your father's--chief of this--gang that I came to break up. "

"My God, hear him! How dare you--Oh, Vaughn, poor, poor boy, you're outof your mind! Sally, Russ, what shall we do? He's worse. He's saying themost dreadful things! I--I can't bear to hear him!"

Steele heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. I walked away with Sally, ledher to and fro in a shady aisle beyond the rocks, and tried to comforther as best I could. After a while, when we returned to the glade, MissSampson had considerable color in her cheeks, and Steele was leaningagainst the rock, grave and sad. I saw that he had recovered and he hadreached the critical point. "Hello, Russ, " he said. "Sprung a surpriseon me, didn't you? Miss Sampson says I've been a little flighty whileshe bandaged me up. I hope I wasn't bad. I certainly feel better now. Iseem to--to have dreamed. "

Miss Sampson flushed at his concluding words. Then silence ensued. Icould not think of anything to say and Sally was dumb. "You all seemvery strange, " said Miss Sampson. 

When Steele's face turned gray to his lips I knew the moment had come. "No doubt. We all feel so deeply for you, " he said. 

"Me? Why?"

"Because the truth must no longer be concealed. "

It was her turn to blanch, and her eyes, strained, dark as night, flashed from one of us to the other. 

"The truth! Tell it then. " She had more courage than any of us. 

"Miss Sampson, your father is the leader of this gang of rustlers Ihave been tracing. Your cousin George Wright, is his right-hand man. "

Miss Sampson heard, but she did not believe. 

"Tell her, Russ, " Steele added huskily, turning away. Wildly she whirledto me. I would have given anything to have been able to lie to her. Asit was I could not speak. But she read the truth in my face. And shecollapsed as if she had been shot. I caught her and laid her on thegrass. Sally, murmuring and crying, worked over her. I helped. ButSteele stood aloof, dark and silent, as if he hoped she would neverreturn to consciousness. 

When she did come to, and began to cry, to moan, to talk frantically, Steele staggered away, while Sally and I made futile efforts to calmher. All we could do was to prevent her doing herself violence. Presently, when her fury of emotion subsided, and she began to show ahopeless stricken shame, I left Sally with her and went off a little waymyself. How long I remained absent I had no idea, but it was noinconsiderable length of time. Upon my return, to my surprise andrelief, Miss Sampson had recovered her composure, or at least, self-control. She stood leaning against the rock where Steele had been, and at this moment, beyond any doubt, she was supremely more beautifulthan I had ever seen her. She was white, tragic, wonderful. "Where isMr. Steele?" she asked. Her tone and her look did not seem at allsuggestive of the mood I expected to find her in--one of beseechingagony, of passionate appeal to Steele not to ruin her father. 

"I'll find him, " I replied turning away. 

Steele was readily found and came back with me. He was as unlike himselfas she was strange. But when they again faced each other, then they wereindeed new to me. 

"I want to know--what you must do, " she said. Steele told her briefly, and his voice was stern. 

"Those--those criminals outside of my own family don't concern me now. But can my father and cousin be taken without bloodshed? I want to knowthe absolute truth. " Steele knew that they could not be, but he couldnot tell her so. Again she appealed to me. Thus my part in the situationgrew harder. It hurt me so that it made me angry, and my anger made mecruelly frank. 

"No. It can't be done. Sampson and Wright will be desperately hard toapproach, which'll make the chances even. So, if you must know thetruth, it'll be your father and cousin to go under, or it'll be Steeleor me, or any combination luck breaks--or all of us!"

Her self-control seemed to fly to the four winds. Swift as light sheflung herself down before Steele, against his knees, clasped her armsround him. "Good God! Miss Sampson, you mustn't do that!" imploredSteele. He tried to break her hold with shaking hands, but he could not. 

"Listen! Listen!" she cried, and her voice made Steele, and Sally and mealso, still as the rock behind us. "Hear me! Do you think I beg you tolet my father go, for his sake? No! No! I have gloried in your Rangerduty. I have loved you because of it. But some awful tragedy threatenshere. Listen, Vaughn Steele. Do not you deny me, as I kneel here. I loveyou. I never loved any other man. But not for my love do I beseech you. 

"There is no help here unless you forswear your duty. Forswear it! Donot kill my father--the father of the woman who loves you. Worse andmore horrible it would be to let my father kill you! It's I who makethis situation unnatural, impossible. You must forswear your duty. I canlive no longer if you don't. I pray you--" Her voice had sunk to awhisper, and now it failed. Then she seemed to get into his arms, towind herself around him, her hair loosened, her face upturned, white andspent, her arms blindly circling his neck. She was all love, allsurrender, all supreme appeal, and these, without her beauty, would havemade her wonderful. But her beauty! Would not Steele have been less thana man or more than a man had he been impervious to it? She was like somesnow-white exquisite flower, broken, and suddenly blighted. She was awoman then in all that made a woman helpless--in all that made hermysterious, sacred, absolutely and unutterably more than any other thingin life. All this time my gaze had been riveted on her only. But whenshe lifted her white face, tried to lift it, rather, and he drew her up, and then when both white faces met and seemed to blend in somethingrapt, awesome, tragic as life--then I saw Steele. 

I saw a god, a man as beautiful as she was. They might have stood, indeed, they did stand alone in the heart of a desert--alone in theworld--alone with their love and their agony. It was a solemn andprofound moment for me. I faintly realized how great it must have beenfor them, yet all the while there hammered at my mind the vital thing atstake. Had they forgotten, while I remembered? It might have been only amoment that he held her. It might have been my own agitation thatconjured up such swift and whirling thoughts. But if my mind sometimesplayed me false my eyes never had. I thought I saw Diane Sampson die inSteele's arms; I could have sworn his heart was breaking; and mine wason the point of breaking, too. 

How beautiful they were! How strong, how mercifully strong, yet shaken, he seemed! How tenderly, hopelessly, fatally appealing she was in thathour of her broken life! If I had been Steele I would have forsworn myduty, honor, name, service for her sake. Had I mind enough to divine historture, his temptation, his narrow escape? I seemed to feel them, atany rate, and while I saw him with a beautiful light on his face, I sawhim also ghastly, ashen, with hands that shook as they groped aroundher, loosing her, only to draw her convulsively back again. It was thesaddest sight I had ever seen. Death was nothing to it. Here was thedeath of happiness. He must wreck the life of the woman who loved himand whom he loved. I was becoming half frantic, almost ready to cry outthe uselessness of this scene, almost on the point of pulling themapart, when Sally dragged me away. Her clinging hold then made me feelperhaps a little of what Miss Sampson's must have been to Steele. 

How different the feeling when it was mine! I could have thrust themapart, after all my schemes and tricks, to throw them together, invague, undefined fear of their embrace. Still, when love beat at my ownpulses, when Sally's soft hand held me tight and she leaned to me--thatwas different. I was glad to be led away--glad to have a chance to pullmyself together. But was I to have that chance? Sally, who in the stifeof emotion had been forgotten, might have to be reckoned with. Deepwithin me, some motive, some purpose, was being born in travail. I didnot know what, but instinctively I feared Sally. I feared her because Iloved her. My wits came back to combat my passion. This hazel-eyed girl, soft, fragile creature, might be harder to move than the Ranger. Butcould she divine a motive scarcely yet formed in my brain? Suddenly Ibecame cool, with craft to conceal. 

"Oh, Russ! What's the matter with you?" she queried quickly. "Can'tDiane and Steele, you and I ride away from this bloody, bad country? Ourown lives, our happiness, come first, do they not?"

"They ought to, I suppose, " I muttered, fighting against the insidioussweetness of her. I knew then I must keep my lips shut or betray myself. 

"You look so strange. Russ, I wouldn't want you to kiss me with thatmouth. Thin, shut lips--smile! Soften and kiss me! Oh, you're so cold, strange! You chill me!"

"Dear child, I'm badly shaken, " I said. "Don't expect me to be naturalyet. There are things you can't guess. So much depended upon--Oh, nevermind! I'll go now. I want to be alone, to think things out. Let me go, Sally. "

She held me only the tighter, tried to pull my face around. Howintuitively keen women were. She felt my distress, and that growing, stern, and powerful thing I scarcely dared to acknowledge to myself. Strangely, then, I relaxed and faced her. There was no use trying tofoil these feminine creatures. Every second I seemed to grow fartherfrom her. The swiftness of this mood of mine was my only hope. Irealized I had to get away quickly, and make up my mind after that whatI intended to do. It was an earnest, soulful, and loving pair of eyesthat I met. What did she read in mine? Her hands left mine to slide tomy shoulders, to slip behind my neck, to lock there like steel bands. Here was my ordeal. Was it to be as terrible as Steele's had been? Ithought it would be, and I swore by all that was rising grim and cold inme that I would be strong. Sally gave a little cry that cut like a bladein my heart, and then she was close-pressed upon me, her quiveringbreast beating against mine, her eyes, dark as night now, searching mysoul. 

She saw more than I knew, and with her convulsive clasp of me confirmedmy half-formed fears. Then she kissed me, kisses that had no more ofgirlhood or coquetry or joy or anything but woman's passion to blind andhold and tame. By their very intensity I sensed the tiger in me. And itwas the tiger that made her new and alluring sweetness fail of itsintent. I did not return one of her kisses. Just one kiss givenback--and I would be lost. 

"Oh, Russ, I'm your promised wife!" she whispered at my lips. "Soon, yousaid! I want it to be soon! To-morrow!" All the subtlety, theintelligence, the cunning, the charm, the love that made up the whole ofwoman's power, breathed in her pleading. What speech known to the tonguecould have given me more torture? She chose the strongest weapon natureafforded her. And had the calamity to consider been mine alone, I wouldhave laughed at it and taken Sally at her word. Then I told her inshort, husky sentences what had depended on Steele: that I loved theRanger Service, but loved him more; that his character, his life, embodied this Service I loved; that I had ruined him; and now I wouldforestall him, do his work, force the issue myself or die in theattempt. 

"Dearest, it's great of you!" she cried. "But the cost! If you kill oneof my kin I'll--I'll shrink from you! If you're killed--Oh, the thoughtis dreadful! You've done your share. Let Steele--some other Rangerfinish it. I swear I don't plead for my uncle or my cousin, for theirsakes. If they are vile, let them suffer. Russ, it's you I think of! Oh, my pitiful little dreams! I wanted so to surprise you with my beautifulhome--the oranges, the mossy trees, the mocking-birds. Now you'll never, never come!"

"But, Sally, there's a chance--a mere chance I can do the job without--"

Then she let go of me. She had given up. I thought she was going todrop, and drew her toward the stone. I cursed the day I ever saw Nealand the service. Where, now, was the arch prettiness, the gay, sweetcharm of Sally Langdon? She looked as if she were suffering from adesperate physical injury. And her final breakdown showed how, one wayor another, I was lost to her. 

As she sank on the stone I had my supreme wrench, and it left me numb, hard, in a cold sweat. "Don't betray me! I'll forestall him! He'splanned nothing for to-day, " I whispered hoarsely. "Sally--you dearest, gamest little girl in the world! Remember I loved you, even if Icouldn't prove it your way. It's for his sake. I'm to blame for theirlove. Some day my act will look different to you. Good-by!"

Chapter 13

RUSS SITTELL IN ACTION

I ran like one possessed of devils down that rough slope, hurdling thestones and crashing through the brush, with a sound in my ears that wasnot all the rush of the wind. When I reached a level I kept running; butsomething dragged at me. I slowed down to a walk. Never in my life had Ibeen victim of such sensation. I must flee from something that wasdrawing me back. Apparently one side of my mind was unalterably fixed, while the other was a hurrying conglomeration of flashes of thought, reception of sensations. I could not get calm. 

By and by, almost involuntarily, with a fleeting look backward as if inexpectation of pursuit, I hurried faster on. Action seemed to make mystate less oppressive; it eased the weight upon me. But the farther Iwent on, the harder it was to continue. I was turning my back upon love, happiness, success in life, perhaps on life itself. I was doing that, but my decision had not been absolute. There seemed no use to go onfarther until I was absolutely sure of myself. I received a clearwarning thought that such work as seemed haunting and driving me couldnever be carried out in the mood under which I labored. I hung on tothat thought. Several times I slowed up, then stopped, only to tramp onagain. 

At length, as I mounted a low ridge, Linrock lay bright and green beforeme, not faraway, and the sight was a conclusive check. There weremesquites on the ridge, and I sought the shade beneath them. It was thenoon hour, with hot, glary sun and no wind. Here I had to have out myfight. If ever in my varied life of exciting adventure I strove tothink, to understand myself, to see through difficulties, I assuredlystrove then. I was utterly unlike myself; I could not bring the old selfback; I was not the same man I once had been. But I could understandwhy. It was because of Sally Langdon, the gay and roguish girl who hadbewitched me, the girl whom love had made a woman--the kind of womanmeant to make life beautiful for me. 

I saw her changing through all those weeks, holding many of the oldtraits and graces, acquiring new character of mind and body, to becomewhat I had just fled from--a woman sweet, fair, loyal, loving, passionate. 

Temptation assailed me. To have her to-morrow--my wife! She had said it. Just twenty-four little hours, and she would be mine--the only woman Ihad ever really coveted, the only one who had ever found the good in me. The thought was alluring. I followed it out, a long, happy stage-rideback to Austin, and then by train to her home where, as she had said, the oranges grew and the trees waved with streamers of gray moss and themocking-birds made melody. I pictured that home. I wondered that longbefore I had not associated wealth and luxury with her family. Always Ihad owned a weakness for plantations, for the agricultural life with itsopen air and freedom from towns. 

I saw myself riding through the cotton and rice and cane, home to thestately old mansion, where long-eared hounds bayed me welcome and awoman looked for me and met me with happy and beautiful smiles. Theremight--there _would_ be children. And something new, strange, confounding with its emotion, came to life deep in my heart. There wouldbe children! Sally their mother; I their father! The kind of life alonely Ranger always yearned for and never had! I saw it all, felt itkeenly, lived its sweetness in an hour of temptation that made me weakphysically and my spirit faint and low. 

For what had I turned my back on this beautiful, all-satisfyingprospect? Was it to arrest and jail a few rustlers? Was it to meet thatmocking Sampson face to face and show him my shield and reach for mygun? Was it to kill that hated Wright? Was it to save the people ofLinrock from further greed, raids, murder? Was it to please and aid myold captain, Neal of the Rangers? Was it to save the Service to theState?

No--a thousand times no. It was for the sake of Steele. Because he was awonderful man! Because I had been his undoing! Because I had thrownDiane Sampson into his arms! That had been my great error. This Rangerhad always been the wonder and despair of his fellow officers, somagnificent a machine, so sober, temperate, chaste, so unremittinglyloyal to the Service, so strangely stern and faithful to his conceptionof the law, so perfect in his fidelity to duty. He was the model, theinspiration, the pride of all of us. To me, indeed, he represented theRanger Service. He was the incarnation of that spirit which fightingTexas had developed to oppose wildness and disorder and crime. He wouldcarry through this Linrock case; but even so, if he were not killed, hiscareer would be ruined. He might save the Service, yet at the cost ofhis happiness. He was not a machine; he was a man. He might be a perfectRanger; still he was a human being. 

The loveliness, the passion, the tragedy of a woman, great as they were, had not power to shake him from his duty. Futile, hopeless, vain herlove had been to influence him. But there had flashed over me withsubtle, overwhelming suggestion that not futile, not vain was _my_ loveto save him! Therefore, beyond and above all other claims, and by reasonof my wrong to him, his claim came first. 

It was then there was something cold and deathlike in my soul; it wasthen I bade farewell to Sally Langdon. For I knew, whatever happened, ofone thing I was sure--I would have to kill either Sampson or Wright. Snecker could be managed; Sampson might be trapped into arrest; butWright had no sense, no control, no fear. He would snarl like a pantherand go for his gun, and he would have to be killed. This, of allconsummations, was the one to be calculated upon. And, of course, bySally's own words, that contingency would put me forever outside thepale for her. 

I did not deceive myself; I did not accept the slightest intimation ofhope; I gave her up. And then for a time regret, remorse, pain, darknessworked their will with me. 

I came out of it all bitter and callous and sore, in the most fitting ofmoods to undertake a difficult and deadly enterprise. Miss Sampsoncompletely slipped my mind; Sally became a wraith as of some one dead;Steele began to fade. In their places came the bushy-bearded Snecker, the olive-skinned Sampson with his sharp eyes, and dark, evil facedWright. Their possibilities began to loom up, and with my speculationreturned tenfold more thrilling and sinister the old strange zest of theman-hunt. 

It was about one o'clock when I strode into Linrock. The streets for themost part were deserted. I went directly to the hall where Morton andZimmer, with their men, had been left by Steele to guard the prisoners. I found them camping out in the place, restless, somber, anxious. Thefact that only about half the original number of prisoners were leftstruck me as further indication of Morton's summary dealing. But when Iquestioned him as to the decrease in number, he said bluntly that theyhad escaped. I did not know whether or not to believe him. But thatdidn't matter. I tried to get in some more questions, only I found thatMorton and Zimmer meant to be heard first. "Where's Steele?" theydemanded. 

"He's out of town, in a safe place, " I replied. "Too bad hurt foraction. I'm to rush through with the rest of the deal. "

"That's good. We've waited long enough. This gang has been split, an'if we hurry they'll never get together again. Old man Snecker showed upto-day. He's drawin' the outfit in again. Reckon he's waitin' fororders. Sure he's ragin' since Bo was killed. This old fox will bedangerous if he gets goin'. "

"Where is he now?" I queried. 

"Over at the Hope So. Must be a dozen of the gang there. But he's theonly leader left we know of. If we get him, the rustler gang will bebroken for good. He's sent word down here for us to let our prisoners goor there'd be a damn bloody fight. We haven't sent our answer yet. Washopin' Steele would show up. An' now we're sure glad you're back. "

"Morton, I'll take the answer, " I replied quickly. "Now there're twothings. Do you know if Sampson and Wright are at the ranch?"

"They were an hour ago. We had word. Zimmer saw Dick. "

"All right. Have you any horses handy?"

"Sure. Those hitched outside belong to us. "

"I want you to take a man with you, in a few moments, and ride round theback roads and up to Sampson's house. Get off and wait under the treestill you hear me shoot or yell, then come fast. "

Morton's breast heaved; he whistled as he breathed; his neck churned. "God Almighty! So _there_ the scent leads! We always wondered--halfbelieved. But no one spoke--no one had any nerve. " Morton moistened hislips; his face was livid; his big hands shook. "Russ, you can gamble onme. "

"Good. Well, that's all. Come out and get me a horse. "

When I had mounted and was half-way to the Hope So, my plan, as far asSnecker was concerned, had been formed. It was to go boldy into thesaloon, ask for the rustler, first pretend I had a reply from Morton andthen, when I had Snecker's ear, whisper a message supposedly fromSampson. If Snecker was too keen to be decoyed I could at least surprisehim off his guard and kill him, then run for my horse. The plan seemedclever to me. I had only one thing to fear, and that was a possibilityof the rustlers having seen my part in Steele's defense the other day. That had to be risked. There were always some kind of risks to be faced. 

It was scarcely a block and a half to the Hope So. Before I arrived Iknew I had been seen. When I dismounted before the door I felt cold, yetthere was an exhilaration in the moment. I never stepped more naturallyand carelessly into the saloon. It was full of men. There were menbehind the bar helping themselves. Evidently Blandy's place had not beenfilled. Every face near the door was turned toward me; dark, intent, scowling, malignant they were, and made me need my nerve. 

"Say, boys, I've a word for Snecker, " I called, quite loud. Nobodystirred. I swept my glance over the crowd, but did not see Snecker. "I'min some hurry, " I added. 

"Bill ain't here, " said a man at the table nearest me. "Air you comin'from Morton?"

"Nit. But I'm not yellin' this message. "

The rustler rose, and in a few long strides confronted me. 

"Word from Sampson!" I whispered, and the rustler stared. "I'm in hisconfidence. He's got to see Bill at once. Sampson sends word he'squit--he's done--he's through. The jig is up, and he means to hit theroad out of Linrock. "

"Bill'll kill him surer 'n hell, " muttered the rustler. "But we all saidit'd come to thet. An' what'd Wright say?"

"Wright! Why, he's cashed in. Didn't you-all hear? Reckon Sampson shothim. "

The rustler cursed his amaze and swung his rigid arm with fist clenchedtight. "When did Wright get it?"

"A little while ago. I don't know how long. Anyway, I saw him lyin' deadon the porch. An' say, pard, I've got to rustle. Send Bill up quick ashe comes. Tell him Sampson wants to turn over all his stock an' thenlight out. "

I backed to the door, and the last I saw of the rustler he was standingthere in a scowling amaze. I had fooled him all right. If only I had theluck to have Snecker come along soon. Mounting, I trotted the horseleisurely up the street. Business and everything else was at astandstill in Linrock these days. The doors of the stores werebarricaded. Down side streets, however, I saw a few people, a buckboard, and stray cattle. 

When I reached the edge of town I turned aside a little and took a lookat the ruins of Steele's adobe house. The walls and debris had all beenflattened, scattered about, and if anything of, value had escapeddestruction it had disappeared. Steele, however, had left very littlethat would have been of further use to him. Turning again, I continuedon my way up to the ranch. It seemed that, though I was eager ratherthan backward, my mind seized avidly upon suggestion or attraction, asif to escape the burden of grim pondering. When about half-way acrossthe flat, and perhaps just out of gun-shot sound of Sampson's house, Iheard the rapid clatter of hoofs on the hard road. I wheeled, expectingto see Morton and his man, and was ready to be chagrined at their comingopenly instead of by the back way. But this was only one man, and it wasnot Morton. He seemed of big build, and he bestrode a fine bay horse. There evidently was reason for hurry, too. At about one hundred yards, when I recognized Snecker, complete astonishment possessed me. 

Well it was I had ample time to get on my guard! In wheeling my horse Ibooted him so hard that he reared. As I had been warm I had my sombreroover the pommel of the saddle. And when the head of my horse blocked anypossible sight of movement of my hand, I pulled my gun and held itconcealed under my sombrero. This rustler had bothered me in mycalculations. And here he came galloping, alone. Exultation would havebeen involuntary then but for the sudden shock, and then the coldsettling of temper, the breathless suspense. Snecker pulled his huge bayand pounded to halt abreast of me. Luck favored me. Had I ever hadanything but luck in these dangerous deals?

Snecker seemed to fume; internally there was a volcano. His widesombrero and bushy beard hid all of his face except his eyes, which weredeepset furnaces. He, too, like his lieutenant, had been carriedcompletely off balance by the strange message apparently from Sampson. It was Sampson's name that had fooled and decoyed these men. "Hey!You're the feller who jest left word fer some one at the Hope So?" heasked. 

"Yes, " I replied, while with my left hand I patted the neck of my horse, holding him still. 

"Sampson wants me bad, eh?"

"Reckon there's only one man who wants you more. "

Steadily, I met his piercing gaze. This was a rustler not to be longvictim to any ruse. I waited in cold surety. 

"You thet cowboy, Russ?" he asked. 

"I was--and I'm not!" I replied significantly. 

The violent start of this violent outlaw was a rippling jerk of passion. "What'n hell!" he ejaculated. 

"Bill, you're easy. "

"Who're you?" he uttered hoarsely. 

I watched Snecker with hawk-like keenness. "United States deputymarshal. Bill, you're under arrest!"

He roared a mad curse as his hand clapped down to his gun. Then I firedthrough my sombrero. Snecker's big horse plunged. The rustler fell back, and one of his legs pitched high as he slid off the lunging steed. Hisother foot caught in the stirrup. This fact terribly frightened thehorse. He bolted, dragging the rustler for a dozen jumps. Then Snecker'sfoot slipped loose. He lay limp and still and shapeless in the road. Idid not need to go back to look him over. 

But to make assurance doubly sure, I dismounted, and went back to wherehe lay. My bullet had gone where it had been aimed. As I rode up intoSampson's court-yard and turned in to the porch I heard loud and angryvoices. Sampson and Wright were quarrelling again. How my lucky starguided me! I had no plan of action, but my brain was equal to a hundredlightning-swift evolutions. The voices ceased. The men had heard thehorse. Both of them came out on the porch. In an instant I was again thelolling impudent cowboy, half under the influence of liquor. 

"It's only Russ and he's drunk, " said George Wright contemptuously. 

"I heard horses trotting off there, " replied Sampson. "Maybe the girlsare coming. I bet I teach them not to run off again--Hello, Russ. "

He looked haggard and thin, but seemed amiable enough. He was in hisshirt-sleeves and he had come out with a gun in his hand. This he laidon a table near the wall. He wore no belt. I rode right up to the porchand, greeting them laconically, made a show of a somewhat tangle-footedcowboy dismounting. The moment I got off and straightened up, I asked nomore. The game was mine. It was the great hour of my life and I met itas I had never met another. I looked and acted what I pretended to be, though a deep and intense passion, an almost ungovernable suspense, anicy sickening nausea abided with me. All I needed, all I wanted was toget Sampson and Wright together, or failing that, to maneuver into suchposition that I had any kind of a chance. Sampson's gun on the tablemade three distinct objects for me to watch and two of them could changeposition. 

"What do you want here?" demanded Wright. He was red, bloated, thick-lipped, all fiery and sweaty from drink, though sober on themoment, and he had the expression of a desperate man in his last stand. It _was_ his last stand, though he was ignorant of that. 

"Me--Say, Wright, I ain't fired yet, " I replied, in slow-risingresentment. 

"Well, you're fired now, " he replied insolently. 

"Who fires me, I'd like to know?" I walked up on the porch and I had acigarette in one hand, a match in the other. I struck the match. 

"I do, " said Wright. 

I studied him with apparent amusement. It had taken only one glancearound for me to divine that Sampson would enjoy any kind of a clashbetween Wright and me. "Huh! You fired me once before an' it didn't go, Wright. I reckon you don't stack up here as strong as you think. "

He was facing the porch, moody, preoccupied, somber, all the time. Onlya little of his mind was concerned with me. Manifestly there were strongforces at work. Both men were strained to a last degree, and Wrightcould be made to break at almost a word. Sampson laughed mockingly atthis sally of mine, and that stung Wright. He stopped his pacing andturned his handsome, fiery eyes on me. "Sampson, I won't stand thisman's impudence. "

"Aw, Wright, cut that talk. I'm not impudent. Sampson knows I'm a goodfellow, on the square, and I have you sized up about O. K. "

"All the same, Russ, you'd better dig out, " said Sampson. "Don't kick upany fuss. We're busy with deals to-day. And I expect visitors. "

"Sure. I won't stay around where I ain't wanted, " I replied. Then I litmy cigarette and did not move an inch out of my tracks. 

Sampson sat in a chair near the door; the table upon which lay his gunstood between him and Wright. This position did not invite me to startanything. But the tension had begun to be felt. Sampson had his sharpgaze on me. "What'd you come for, anyway?" he asked suddenly. 

"Well, I had some news I was asked to fetch in. "

"Get it out of you then. "

"See here now, Mr. Sampson, the fact is I'm a tender-hearted fellow. Ihate to hurt people's feelin's. And if I was to spring this news in Mr. Wright's hearin', why, such a sensitive, high-tempered gentleman as hewould go plumb off his nut. " Unconcealed sarcasm was the dominant notein that speech. Wright flared up, yet he was eagerly curious. Sampson, probably, thought I was only a little worse for drink, and but for theway I rubbed Wright he would not have tolerated me at all. 

"What's this news? You needn't be afraid of my feelings, " said Wright. 

"Ain't so sure of that, " I drawled. "It concerns the lady you're sweeton, an' the ranger you ain't sweet on. "

Sampson jumped up. "Russ, had Diane gone out to meet Steele?" he askedangrily. 

"Sure she had, " I replied. 

I thought Wright would choke. He was thick-necked anyway, and the gushof blood made him tear at the soft collar of his shirt. Both men wereexcited now, moving about, beginning to rouse. I awaited my chance, patient, cold, all my feelings shut in the vise of my will. 

"How do you know she met Steele?" demanded Sampson. 

"I was there. I met Sally at the same time. "

"But why should my daughter meet this Ranger?"

"She's in love with him and he's in love with her. "

The simple statement might have had the force of a juggernaut. I reveledin Wright's state, but I felt sorry for Sampson. He had not outlived hispride. Then I saw the leaping thought--would this daughter side againsthim? Would she help to betray him? He seemed to shrivel up, to grow oldwhile I watched him. 

Wright, finding his voice, cursed Diane, cursed the Ranger, thenSampson, then me. 

"You damned, selfish fool!" cried Sampson, in deep, bitter scorn. "Allyou think of is yourself. Your loss of the girl! Think once of me--myhome--my life!"

Then the connection subtly put out by Sampson apparently dawned upon theother. Somehow, through this girl, her father and cousin were to bebetrayed. I got that impression, though I could not tell how true itwas. Certainly, Wright's jealousy was his paramount emotion. 

Sampson thrust me sidewise off the porch. "Go away, " he ordered. He didnot look around to see if I came back. Quickly I leaped to my formerposition. He confronted Wright. He was beyond the table where the gunlay. They were close together. My moment had come. The game wasmine--and a ball of fire burst in my brain to race all over me. 

"To hell with you!" burst out Wright incoherently. He was frenzied. "I'll have her or nobody else will!"

"You never will, " returned Sampson stridently. "So help me God, I'drather see her Ranger Steele's wife than yours!"

While Wright absorbed that shock Sampson leaned toward him, all of hateand menace in his mien. They had forgotten the half-drunken cowboy. "Wright, you made me what I am, " continued Sampson. "I backed you, protected you, finally I went in with you. Now it's ended. I quit you. I'm done!" Their gray, passion-corded faces were still as stones. 

"Gentlemen, " I called in clear, high, far-reaching voice, the intonationof authority, "you're both done!"

They wheeled to confront me, to see my leveled gun. "Don't move! Not amuscle! Not a finger!" I warned. Sampson read what Wright had not themind to read. His face turned paler gray, to ashen. 

"What d'ye mean?" yelled Wright fiercely, shrilly. It was not in him toobey my command, to see impending death. All quivering and strung, yetwith perfect control, I raised my left hand to turn back a lapel of myopen vest. The silver shield flashed brightly. 

"United States deputy marshal in service of Ranger Steele!"

Wright howled like a dog. With barbarous and insane fury, with sheer, impotent folly, he swept a clawing hand for his gun. My shot broke hisaction as it cut short his life. Before Wright even tottered, before heloosed the gun, Sampson leaped behind him, clasped him with his leftarm, quick as lightning jerked the gun from both clutching fingers andsheath. I shot at Sampson, then again, then a third time. All my bulletssped into the upheld nodding Wright. Sampson had protected himself withthe body of the dead man. I had seen red flashes, puffs of smoke, hadheard quick reports. Something stung my left arm. Then a blow like wind, light of sound yet shocking in impact, struck me, knocked me flat. Thehot rend of lead followed the blow. My heart seemed to explode, yet mymind kept extraordinarily clear and rapid. 

I raised myself, felt a post at my shoulder, leaned on it. I heardSampson work the action of Wright's gun. I heard the hammer click, fallupon empty shells. He had used up all the loads in Wright's gun. I heardhim curse as a man cursed at defeat. I waited, cool and sure now, forhim to show his head or other vital part from behind his bolster. Hetried to lift the dead man, to edge him closer toward the table wherethe gun lay. But, considering the peril of exposing himself, he foundthe task beyond him. He bent, peering at me under Wright's arm. Sampson's eyes were the eyes of a man who meant to kill me. There wasnever any mistaking the strange and terrible light of eyes like those. 

More than once I had a chance to aim at them, at the top of Sampson'shead, at a strip of his side. But I had only two shells left. I wantedto make sure. Suddenly I remembered Morton and his man. Then I pealedout a cry--hoarse, strange, yet far-reaching. It was answered by ashout. Sampson heard it. It called forth all that was in the man. Heflung Wright's body off. But even as it dropped, before Sampson couldrecover to leap as he surely intended for the gun, I covered him, calledpiercingly to him. I could kill him there or as he moved. But one chanceI gave him. 

"Don't jump for the gun! Don't! I'll kill you! I've got two shells left!Sure as God, I'll kill you!"

He stood perhaps ten feet from the table where his gun lay. I saw himcalculating chances. He was game. He had the courage that forced me torespect him. I just saw him measure the distance to that gun. He wasmagnificent. He meant to do it. I would have to kill him. 

"Sampson, listen!" I cried, very swiftly. "The game's up! You're done!But think of your daughter! I'll spare your life, I'll give you freedomon one condition. For her sake! I've got you nailed--all the proofs. It was I behind the wall the other night. Blome, Hilliard, Pickens, BoSnecker, are dead. I killed Bo Snecker on the way up here. There liesWright. You're alone. And here comes Morton and his men to my aid. 

"Give up! Surrender! Consent to demands and I'll spare you. You can gofree back to your old country. It's for Diane's sake! Her life, perhapsher happiness, can be saved! Hurry, man! Your answer!"

"Suppose I refuse?" he queried, with a dark and terrible earnestness. 

"Then I'll kill you in your tracks! You can't move a hand! Your word ordeath! Hurry, Sampson! I can't last much longer. But I can kill youbefore I drop. Be a man! For her sake! Quick! Another second now--ByGod, I'll kill you!"

"All right, Russ! I give my word, " he said, and deliberately walked tothe chair and fell into it, just as Morton came running up with his man. 

"Put away your gun, " I ordered them. "The game's up. Snecker and Wrightare dead. Sampson is my prisoner. He has my word he'll be protected. It's for you to draw up papers with him. He'll divide all his property, every last acre, every head of stock as you and Zimmer dictate. He givesup all. Then he's free to leave the country, and he's never to return. "

Chapter 14

THROUGH THE VALLEY

Sampson looked strangely at the great bloody blot on my breast and hislook made me conscious of a dark hurrying of my mind. Morton camestamping up the steps with blunt queries, with anxious mien. When he sawthe front of me he halted, threw wide his arms. 

"There come the girls!" suddenly exclaimed Sampson. "Morton, help medrag Wright inside. They mustn't see him. "

I was facing down the porch toward the court and corrals. Miss Sampsonand Sally had come in sight, were swiftly approaching, evidentlyalarmed. Steele, no doubt, had remained out at the camp. I was watchingthem, wondering what they would do and say presently, and then Sampsonand Johnson came to carry me indoors. They laid me on the couch in theparlor where the girls used to be so often. 

"Russ, you're pretty hard hit, " said Sampson, bending over me, with hishands at my breast. The room was bright with sunshine, yet the lightseemed to be fading. 

"Reckon I am, " I replied. 

"I'm sorry. If only you could have told me sooner! Wright, damn him!Always I've split over him!"

"But the last time, Sampson. "

"Yes, and I came near driving you to kill me, too. Russ, you talked meout of it. For Diane's sake! She'll be in here in a minute. This'll beharder than facing a gun. "

"Hard now. But it'll--turn out--O. K. "

"Russ, will you do me a favor?" he asked, and he seemed shamefaced. 

"Sure. "

"Let Diane and Sally think Wright shot you. He's dead. It can't matter. And you're hard hit. The girls are fond of you. If--if you gounder--Russ, the old side of my life is coming back. It's _been_ coming. It'll be here just about when she enters this room. And by God, I'dchange places with you if I could. "

"Glad you--said that, Sampson, " I replied. "And sure--Wright plugged me. It's our secret. I've a reason, too, not--that--it--matters--much--now. "

The light was fading. I could not talk very well. I felt dumb, strange, locked in ice, with dull little prickings of my flesh, with dim rushingsounds in my ears. But my mind was clear. Evidently there was little tobe done. Morton came in, looked at me, and went out. I heard the quick, light steps of the girls on the porch, and murmuring voices. 

"Where'm I hit?" I whispered. 

"Three places. Arm, shoulder, and a bad one in the breast. It got yourlung, I'm afraid. But if you don't go quick, you've a chance. "

"Sure I've a chance. "

"Russ, I'll tell the girls, do what I can for you, then settle withMorton and clear out. "

Just then Diane and Sally entered the room. I heard two low cries, sodifferent in tone, and I saw two dim white faces. Sally flew to my sideand dropped to her knees. Both hands went to my face, then to my breast. She lifted them, shaking. They were red. White and mute she gazed fromthem to me. But some woman's intuition kept her from fainting. 

"Papa!" cried Diane, wringing her hands. 

"Don't give way, " he replied. "Both you girls will need your nerve. Russis badly hurt. There's little hope for him. "

Sally moaned and dropped her face against me, clasping me convulsively. I tried to reach a hand out to touch her, but I could not move. I felther hair against my face. Diane uttered a low heart-rending cry, whichboth Sampson and I understood. 

"Listen, let me tell it quick, " he said huskily. "There's been a fight. Russ killed Snecker and Wright. They resisted arrest. It--it wasWright--it was Wright's gun that put Russ down. Russ let me off. Infact, Diane, he saved me. I'm to divide my property--return so far aspossible what I've stolen--leave Texas at once and forever. You'll findme back in old Louisiana--if--if you ever want to come home. "

As she stood there, realizing her deliverance, with the dark and tragicglory of her eyes passing from her father to me, my own sight shadowed, and I thought if I were dying then, it was not in vain. 

"Send--for--Steele, " I whispered. 

Silently, swiftly, breathlessly they worked over me. I was exquisitelysensitive to touch, to sound, but I could not see anything. By and byall was quiet, and I slipped into a black void. Familiar heavy swiftfootsteps, the thump of heels of a powerful and striding man, jarredinto the blackness that held me, seemed to split it to let me out; and Iopened my eyes in a sunlit room to see Sally's face all lined andhaggard, to see Miss Sampson fly to the door, and the stalwart Rangerbow his lofty head to enter. However far life had ebbed from me, then itcame rushing back, keen-sighted, memorable, with agonizing pain in everynerve. I saw him start, I heard him cry, but I could not speak. He bentover me and I tried to smile. He stood silent, his hand on me, whileDiane Sampson told swiftly, brokenly, what had happened. 

How she told it! I tried to whisper a protest. To any one on earthexcept Steele I might have wished to appear a hero. Still, at thatmoment I had more dread of him than any other feeling. She finished thestory with her head on his shoulder, with tears that certainly were inpart for me. Once in my life, then, I saw him stunned. But when herecovered it was not Diane that he thought of first, nor of the end ofSampson's power. He turned to me. 

"Little hope?" he cried out, with the deep ring in his voice. "No!There's every hope. No bullet hole like that could ever kill thisRanger. Russ!"

I could not answer him. But this time I did achieve a smile. There wasno shadow, no pain in his face such as had haunted me in Sally's andDiane's. He could fight death the same as he could fight evil. Hevitalized the girls. Diane began to hope; Sally lost her woe. He changedthe atmosphere of that room. Something filled it, something likehimself, big, virile, strong. The very look of him made me suddenly wantto live; and all at once it seemed I felt alive. And that was liketaking the deadened ends of nerves to cut them raw and quicken them withfiery current. 

From stupor I had leaped to pain, and that tossed me into fever. Therewere spaces darkened, mercifully shutting me in; there were others oflight, where I burned and burned in my heated blood. Sally, like thewraith she had become in my mind, passed in and out; Diane watched andhelped in those hours when sight was clear. But always the Ranger waswith me. Sometimes I seemed to feel his spirit grappling with mine, drawing me back from the verge. Sometimes, in strange dreams, I saw himthere between me and a dark, cold, sinister shape. 

The fever passed, and with the first nourishing drink given me I seemedto find my tongue, to gain something. 

"Hello, old man, " I whispered to Steele. 

"Oh, Lord, Russ, to think you would double-cross me the way you did!"

That was his first speech to me after I had appeared to face round fromthe grave. His good-humored reproach told me more than any other thinghow far from his mind was thought of death for me. Then he talked alittle to me, cheerfully, with that directness and force characteristicof him always, showing me that the danger was past, and that I would nowbe rapidly on the mend. I discovered that I cared little whether I wason the mend or not. When I had passed the state of somber unrealitiesand then the hours of pain and then that first inspiring flush ofrenewed desire to live, an entirely different mood came over me. But Ikept it to myself. I never even asked why, for three days, Sally neverentered the room where I lay. I associated this fact, however, with whatI had imagined her shrinking from me, her intent and pale face, hersingular manner when occasion made it necessary or unavoidable for herto be near me. 

No difficulty was there in associating my change of mood with herabsence. I brooded. Steele's keen insight betrayed me to him, but allhis power and his spirit availed nothing to cheer me. I pretended to becheerful; I drank and ate anything given me; I was patient and quiet. But I ceased to mend. 

Then, one day she came back, and Steele, who was watching me as sheentered, quietly got up and without a word took Diane out of the roomand left me alone with Sally. 

"Russ, I've been sick myself--in bed for three days, " she said. "I'mbetter now. I hope you are. You look so pale. Do you still think, broodabout that fight?"

"Yes, I can't forget. I'm afraid it cost me more than life. "

Sally was somber, bloomy, thoughtful. "You weren't driven to killGeorge?" she asked. 

"How do you mean?"

"By that awful instinct, that hankering to kill, you once told me thesegunmen had. "

"No, I can swear it wasn't that. I didn't want to kill him. But heforced me. As I had to go after these two men it was a foregoneconclusion about Wright. It was premeditated. I have no excuse. "

"Hush--Tell me, if you confronted them, drew on them, then you had achance to kill my uncle?"

"Yes. I could have done it easily. "

"Why, then, didn't you?"

"It was for Diane's sake. I'm afraid I didn't think of you. I had putyou out of my mind. "

"Well, if a man can be noble at the same time he's terrible, you'vebeen, Russ--I don't know how I feel. I'm sick and I can't think. I see, though, what you saved Diane and Steele. Why, she's touching happinessagain, fearfully, yet really. Think of that! God only knows what you didfor Steele. If I judged it by his suffering as you lay there about todie it would be beyond words to tell. But, Russ, you're pale and shakynow. Hush! No more talk!"

With all my eyes and mind and heart and soul I watched to see if sheshrank from me. She was passive, yet tender as she smoothed my pillowand moved my head. A dark abstraction hung over her, and it was sostrange, so foreign to her nature. No sensitiveness on earth could haveequaled mine at that moment. And I saw and felt and knew that she didnot shrink from me. Thought and feeling escaped me for a while. I dozed. The old shadows floated to and fro. 

When I awoke Steele and Diane had just come in. As he bent over me Ilooked up into his keen gray eyes and there was no mask on my own as Ilooked up to him. 

"Son, the thing that was needed was a change of nurses, " he said gently. "I intend to make up some sleep now and leave you in better care. "

From that hour I improved. I slept, I lay quietly awake, I partook ofnourishing food. I listened and watched, and all the time I gained. ButI spoke very little, and though I tried to brighten when Steele was inthe room I made only indifferent success of it. Days passed. Sally wasalmost always with me, yet seldom alone. She was grave where once shehad been gay. How I watched her face, praying for that shade to lift!How I listened for a note of the old music in her voice! Sally Langdonhad sustained a shock to her soul almost as dangerous as had been theblow at my life. Still I hoped. I had seen other women's deadened anddarkened spirits rebound and glow once more. It began to dawn upon me, however, that more than time was imperative if she were ever to becomeher old self again. 

Studying her closer, with less thought of myself and her reaction to mypresence, I discovered that she trembled at shadows, seemed like afrightened deer with a step always on its trail, was afraid of the dark. Then I wondered why I had not long before divined one cause of herstrangeness. The house where I had killed one of her kin would ever behaunted for her. She had said she was a Southerner and that blood wasthick. When I had thought out the matter a little further, Ideliberately sat up in bed, scaring the wits out of all my kind nurses. 

"Steele, I'll never get well in this house. I want to go home. When canyou take me?"

They remonstrated with me and pleaded and scolded, all to little avail. Then they were persuaded to take me seriously, to plan, providing Iimproved, to start in a few days. We were to ride out of Pecos Countytogether, back along the stage trail to civilization. The look inSally's eyes decided my measure of improvement. I could have startedthat very day and have borne up under any pain or distress. Strange tosee, too, how Steele and Diane responded to the stimulus of my idea, tothe promise of what lay beyond the wild and barren hills!

He told me that day about the headlong flight of every lawless characterout of Linrock, the very hour that Snecker and Wright and Sampson wereknown to have fallen. Steele expressed deep feeling, almostmortification, that the credit of that final coup had gone to him, instead of me. His denial and explanation had been only a few soundlesswords in the face of a grateful and clamorous populace that tried toreward him, to make him mayor of Linrock. Sampson had made restitutionin every case where he had personally gained at the loss of farmer orrancher; and the accumulation of years went far toward returning toLinrock what it had lost in a material way. He had been a poor man whenhe boarded the stage for Sanderson, on his way out of Texas forever. 

Not long afterward I heard Steele talking to Miss Sampson, in a deep andagitated voice. "You must rise above this. When I come upon you alone Isee the shadow, the pain in your face. How wonderfully this thing hasturned out when it might have ruined you! I expected it to ruin you. Who, but that wild boy in there could have saved us all? Diane, you havehad cause for sorrow. But your father is alive and will live it down. Perhaps, back there in Louisiana, the dishonor will never be known. Pecos County is far from your old home. And even in San Antonio andAustin, a man's evil repute means little. 

"Then the line between a rustler and a rancher is hard to draw in thesewild border days. Rustling is stealing cattle, and I once heard awell-known rancher say that all rich cattlemen had done a littlestealing. Your father drifted out here, and like a good many others, hesucceeded. It's perhaps just as well not to split hairs, to judge him bythe law and morality of a civilized country. Some way or other hedrifted in with bad men. Maybe a deal that was honest somehow tied hishands and started him in wrong. 

"This matter of land, water, a few stray head of stock had to be decidedout of court. I'm sure in his case he never realized where he wasdrifting. Then one thing led to another, until he was face to face withdealing that took on crooked form. To protect himself he bound men tohim. And so the gang developed. Many powerful gangs have developed thatway out here. He could not control them. He became involved with them. 

"And eventually their dealings became deliberately and boldly dishonest. That meant the inevitable spilling of blood sooner or later, and so hegrew into the leader because he was the strongest. Whatever he is to bejudged for I think he could have been infinitely worse. "

When he ceased speaking I had the same impulse that must have governedSteele--somehow to show Sampson not so black as he was painted, to givehim the benefit of a doubt, to arraign him justly in the eyes of Rangerswho knew what wild border life was. 

"Steele, bring Diane in!" I called. "I've something to tell her. " Theycame quickly, concerned probably at my tone. "I've been hoping for achance to tell you something, Miss Sampson. That day I came here yourfather was quarreling with Wright. I had heard them do that before. Hehated Wright. The reason came out just before we had the fight. It wasmy plan to surprise them. I did. I told them you went out to meetSteele--that you two were in love with each other. Wright grew wild. Heswore no one would ever have you. Then Sampson said he'd rather have youSteele's wife than Wright's. 

"I'll not forget that scene. There was a great deal back of it, longbefore you ever came out to Linrock. Your father said that he had backedWright, that the deal had ruined him, made him a rustler. He said hequit; he was done. Now, this is all clear to me, and I want to explain, Miss Sampson. It was Wright who ruined your father. It was Wright whowas the rustler. It was Wright who made the gang necessary. But Wrighthad not the brains or the power to lead men. Because blood is thick, your father became the leader of that gang. At heart he was never acriminal. 

"The reason I respected him was because he showed himself a man at thelast. He faced me to be shot, and I couldn't do it. As Steele said, you've reason for sorrow. But you must get over it. You mustn't brood. Ido not see that you'll be disgraced or dishonored. Of course, that's notthe point. The vital thing is whether or not a woman of yourhigh-mindedness had real and lasting cause for shame. Steele says no. Isay no. "

Then, as Miss Sampson dropped down beside me, her eyes shining and wet, Sally entered the room in time to see her cousin bend to kiss megratefully with sisterly fervor. Yet it was a woman's kiss, given forits own sake. Sally could not comprehend; it was too sudden, toounheard-of, that Diane Sampson should kiss me, the man she did not love. Sally's white, sad face changed, and in the flaming wave of scarlet thatdyed neck and cheek and brow I read with mighty pound of heart that, despite the dark stain between us, she loved me still. 

Chapter 15

CONVALESCENCE

Four mornings later we were aboard the stage, riding down the mainstreet, on the way out of Linrock. The whole town turned out to bid usfarewell. The cheering, the clamor, the almost passionate fervor of thepopulace irritated me, and I could not see the incident from their pointof view. Never in my life had I been so eager to get out of a place. Butthen I was morbid, and the whole world hinged on one thing. Mortoninsisted on giving us an escort as far as Del Rio. It consisted of sixcowboys, mounted, with light packs, and they rode ahead of the stage. 

We had the huge vehicle to ourselves. A comfortable bed had been riggedup for me by placing boards across from seat to seat, and furnishing itwith blankets and pillows. By some squeezing there was still room enoughinside for my three companions; but Steele expressed an intention ofriding mostly outside, and Miss Sampson's expression betrayed her. I wasto be alone with Sally. The prospect thrilled while it saddened me. Howdifferent this ride from that first one, with all its promise ofadventure and charm!

"It's over!" said Steele thickly. "It's done! I'm glad, for theirsakes--glad for ours. We're out of town. "

I had been quick to miss the shouts and cheers. And I had been just asquick to see, or to imagine, a subtle change in Sally Langdon's face. Wehad not traveled a mile before the tension relaxed about her lips, thedowncast eyelids lifted, and I saw, beyond any peradventure of doubt, alighter spirit. Then I relaxed myself, for I had keyed up every nerve tomake myself strong for this undertaking. I lay back with closed eyes, weary, aching, in more pain than I wanted them to discover. And Ithought and thought. 

Miss Sampson had said to me: "Russ, it'll all come right. I can tell younow what you never guessed. For years Sally had been fond of our cousin, George Wright. She hadn't seen him since she was a child. But sheremembered. She had an only brother who was the image of George. Sallydevotedly loved Arthur. He was killed in the Rebellion. She never gotover it. That left her without any family. George and I were her nearestkin. 

"How she looked forward to meeting George out here! But he disappointedher right at the start. She hates a drinking man. I think she came tohate George, too. But he always reminded her of Arthur, and she couldnever get over that. So, naturally, when you killed George she wasterribly shocked. There were nights when she was haunted, when I had tostay with her. Vaughn and I have studied her, talked about her, and wethink she's gradually recovering. She loved you, too; and Sally doesn'tchange. Once with her is for always. So let me say to you what you saidto me--do not brood. All will yet be well, thank God!"

Those had been words to remember, to make me patient, to lessen myinsistent fear. Yet, what did I know of women? Had not Diane Sampson andSally Langdon amazed and nonplused me many a time, at the very momentwhen I had calculated to a nicety my conviction of their action, theirfeeling? It was possible that I had killed Sally's love for me, though Icould not believe so; but it was very possible that, still loving me, she might never break down the barrier between us. The beginning ofthat journey distressed me physically; yet, gradually, as I grewaccustomed to the roll of the stage and to occasional jars, I foundmyself easier in body. Fortunately there had been rain, which settledthe dust; and a favorable breeze made riding pleasant, where ordinarilyit would have been hot and disagreeable. 

We tarried long enough in the little hamlet of Sampson for Steele to getletters from reliable ranchers. He wanted a number of references toverify the Ranger report he had to turn in to Captain Neal. Thisprecaution he took so as to place in Neal's hands all the evidenceneeded to convince Governor Smith. And now, as Steele returned to us andentered the stage, he spoke of this report. "It's the longest and thebest I ever turned in, " he said, with a gray flame in his eyes. "Ishan't let Russ read it. He's peevish because I want his part put onrecord. And listen, Diane. There's to be a blank line in this report. Your father's name will never be recorded. Neither the Governor, nor theadjutant-general, nor Captain Neal, nor any one back Austin way willever know who this mysterious leader of the Pecos gang might have been. 

"Even out here very few know. Many supposed, but few knew. I've shut themouths of those few. That blank line in the report is for a supposed andmysterious leader who vanished. Jack Blome, the reputed leader, and allhis lawless associates are dead. Linrock is free and safe now, itsfuture in the hands of roused, determined, and capable men. "

We were all silent after Steele ceased talking. I did not believe Dianecould have spoken just then. If sorrow and joy could be perfectlyblended in one beautiful expression, they were in her face. By and by Idared to say: "And Vaughn Steele, Lone Star Ranger, has seen his lastservice!"

"Yes, " he replied with emotion. 

Sally stirred and turned a strange look upon us all. "In that case, then, if I am not mistaken, there were two Lone Star Rangers--and bothhave seen their last service!" Sally's lips were trembling, the way theytrembled when it was impossible to tell whether she was about to laughor cry. The first hint of her old combative spirit or her old archness!A wave of feeling rushed over me, too much for me in my weakenedcondition. Dizzy, racked with sudden shooting pains, I closed my eyes;and the happiness I embraced was all the sweeter for the suffering itentailed. Something beat into my ears, into my brain, with theregularity and rapid beat of pulsing blood--not too late! Not too late!

From that moment the ride grew different, even as I improved with leapsand bounds. Sanderson behind us, the long gray barren between Sandersonand the Rio Grande behind us, Del Rio for two days, where I was able tosit up, all behind us--and the eastward trail to Uvalde before us! Wewere the only passengers on the stage from Del Rio to Uvalde. PerhapsSteele had so managed the journey. Assuredly he had become an individualwith whom traveling under the curious gaze of strangers would have beenembarrassing. He was most desperately in love. And Diane, all in a fewdays, while riding these long, tedious miles, ordinarily so fatiguing, had renewed her bloom, had gained what she had lost. She, too, wasdesperately in love, though she remembered her identity occasionally, and that she was in the company of a badly shot-up young man and abroken-hearted cousin. 

Most of the time Diane and Steele rode on top of the stage. When theydid ride inside their conduct was not unbecoming; indeed, it was sweetto watch; yet it loosed the fires of jealous rage and longing in me; andcertainly had some remarkable effect upon Sally. Gradually she had beenlosing that strange and somber mood she had acquired, to brighten andchange more and more. Perhaps she divined something about Diane andSteele that escaped me. Anyway, all of a sudden she was transformed. "Look here, if you people want to spoon, please get out on top, " shesaid. 

If that was not the old Sally Langdon I did not know who it was. MissSampson tried to appear offended, and Steele tried to look insulted, butthey both failed. They could not have looked anything but happy. Youthand love were too strong for this couple, whom circumstances might wellhave made grave and thoughtful. They were magnet and steel, powder andspark. Any moment, right before my eyes, I expected them to rush rightinto each other's arms. And when they refrained, merely substitutingclasped hands for a dearer embrace, I closed my eyes and rememberedthem, as they would live in my memory forever, standing crushed togetheron the ridge that day, white lips to white lips, embodying all that wasbeautiful, passionate and tragic. 

And I, who had been their undoing, in the end was their salvation. How Ihugged that truth to my heart!

It seemed, following Sally's pert remark, that after an interval ofdecent dignity, Diane and Steele did go out upon the top of the stage. "Russ, " whispered Sally, "they're up to something. I heard a few words. I bet you they're going to get married in San Antonio. "

"Well, it's about time, " I replied. 

"But oughtn't they take us into their confidence?"

"Sally, they have forgotten we are upon the earth. "

"Oh, I'm so glad they're happy!"

Then there was a long silence. It was better for me to ride lying down, in which position I was at this time. After a mile Sally took my handand held it without speaking. My heart leaped, but I did not open myeyes or break that spell even with a whisper. "Russ, I must say--tellyou--"

She faltered, and still I kept my eyes closed. I did not want to wake upfrom that dream. "Have I been very--very sad?" she went on. 

"Sad and strange, Sally. That was worse than my bullet-holes. " Shegripped my hand. I felt her hair on my brow, felt her breath on mycheek. 

"Russ, I swore--I'd hate you if you--if you--"

"I know. Don't speak of it, " I interposed hurriedly. 

"But I don't hate you. I--I love you. And I can't give you up!"

"Darling! But, Sally, can you get over it--can you forget?"

"Yes. That horrid black spell had gone with the miles. Little by little, mile after mile, and now it's gone! But I had to come to the point. Togo back on my word! To tell you. Russ, you never, _never_ had anysense!"

Then I opened my eyes and my arms, too, and we were reunited. It musthave been a happy moment, so happy that it numbed me beyondappreciation. "Yes, Sally, " I agreed; "but no man ever had such awonderful girl. "

"Russ, I never--took off your ring, " she whispered. 

"But you hid your hand from my sight, " I replied quickly. 

"Oh dear Russ, we're crazy--as crazy as those lunatics outside. Let'sthink a little. "

I was very content to have no thought at all, just to see and feel herclose to me. 

"Russ, will you give up the Ranger Service for me?" she asked. 

"Indeed I will. "

"And leave this fighting Texas, never to return till the day of guns andRangers and bad men and even-breaks is past?"

"Yes. "

"Will you go with me to my old home? It was beautiful once, Russ, beforeit was let run to rack and ruin. A thousand acres. An old stone house. Great mossy oaks. A lake and river. There are bear, deer, panther, wildboars in the breaks. You can hunt. And ride! I've horses, Russ, suchhorses! They could run these scrubby broncos off their legs. Will youcome?"

"Come! Sally, I rather think I will. But, dearest, after I'm well againI must work, " I said earnestly. "I've got to have a job. "

"You're indeed a poor cowboy out of a job! Remember your deceit. Oh, Russ! Well, you'll have work, never fear. "

"Sally, is this old home of yours near the one Diane speaks of so much?"I asked. 

"Indeed it is. But hers has been kept under cultivation and in repair, while mine has run down. That will be our work, to build it up. So it'ssettled then?"

"Almost. There are certain--er--formalities--needful in a compact ofthis kind. " She looked inquiringly at me, with a soft flush. "Well, ifyou are so dense, try to bring back that Sally Langdon who used totorment me. How you broke your promises! How you leaned from yoursaddle! Kiss me, Sally!"

Later, as we drew close to Uvalde, Sally and I sat in one seat, afterthe manner of Diane and Vaughn, and we looked out over the west wherethe sun was setting behind dim and distant mountains. We were fastleaving the wild and barren border. Already it seemed far beyond thatbroken rugged horizon with its dark line silhouetted against the rosyand golden sky. Already the spell of its wild life and the grim andhaunting faces had begun to fade out of my memory. Let newer Rangers, with less to lose, and with the call in their hearts, go on with ourwork 'till soon that wild border would be safe!

The great Lone Star State must work out its destiny. Some distant day, in the fulness of time, what place the Rangers had in that destiny wouldbe history.