HIDDEN GOLD

 BY

 WILDER ANTHONY

 FRONTISPIECE BY

 G. W. GAGE

 NEW YORK THE MACAULAY COMPANY

 COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY THE MACAULAY COMPANY

 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

 [Illustration: At the sharp crack of the rifle, Moran stopped short. ]

 CONTENTS

 CHAPTER PAGE

 I THE COMING OF THE SHEEP 11

 II A MEETING AND A PARTING 23

 III JEALOUSY 35

 IV THE GATHERING STORM 44

 V TREACHERY 57

 VI MURDER 73

 VII THE OLD TRAIL 84

 VIII HIGHER THAN STATUTE LAW 93

 IX THE BATTLE AT THE RANCH 106

 X THE SENATOR GETS BUSY 114

 XI TANGLED THREADS 129

 XII DESPERATE MEASURES 144

 XIII INTO THE DEPTHS 156

 XIV A DASTARD'S BLOW 171

 XV THE FIRST CLEW 181

 XVI TRAPPED 200

 XVII A WAR OF WITS 212

 XVIII A RESCUE, AND A VIGILANCE COMMITTEE 234

 XIX BAFFLED, BUT STILL DANGEROUS 250

 XX THE STORM BURSTS 262

 XXI WITH BARE HANDS AT LAST 272

 XXII CHURCH-GOING CLOTHES 283

HIDDEN GOLD

CHAPTER I

THE COMING OF THE SHEEP

From his seat on the top of a high ridge, Gordon Wade looked into thebowl-shaped valley beneath him, with an expression of amazement on hissun-burned face. Pouring through a narrow opening in the environinghills, and immediately spreading fan-like over the grass of the valley, were sheep; hundreds, thousands of them. Even where he sat, a goodquarter mile above them, the air was rank with the peculiar smell of theanimals he detested, and their ceaseless "Ba-a-a, ba-a-a, ba-a-a, "sounded like the roar of surf on a distant coast. Driven frantic by theappetizing smell of the sweet bunch-grass, the like of which they hadnot seen in months, the sheep poured through the gap like a torrent ofdirty, yellow water; urged on from the rear and sides by barking dogsand shouting herders. 

Straightening his six feet of bone and muscle, the cattleman stood upand stepped to the extreme edge of the rim-rock, with hardenedcountenance and gleaming eyes. A herder saw him standing there, in opensilhouette against the sky line, and with many wild gesticulationspointed him out to his companions. With a quick motion, Wade halfraised his rifle from the crook of his arm toward his shoulder, and thensnorted grimly as the herders scrambled for shelter. "Coyotes!" hemuttered, reflecting that constant association with the beasts that suchmen tended, seemed to make cowards of them all. 

With an ominous shake of his head, he went back on the ridge to hiswaiting horse, eager to bear word of the invasion to Santry, his ranchforeman and closest friend. Thrusting the short-barreled rifle into itsscabbard beneath the stirrup leather, he mounted and rode rapidly away. 

Dusk was gathering as he pushed his way through the willows whichfringed Piah Creek and came out into the clearing which held his ranchbuildings. Nestling against the foot of a high bluff with the clearwaters of the creek sparkling a scant fifty yards from the door, the logranch house remained hidden until one was almost upon it. To the left, at the foot of a long slope, the corrals and out-buildings weresituated, while beyond them a range of snow-capped mountains rose inmajestic grandeur. Back of the house, at the top of the bluff, a broadtableland extended for miles; this, with Crawling Water Valley, comprising the fine range land, on which fattened three thousand head ofcattle, carrying the Wade brand, the Double Arrow. Barely an hourbefore, the owner had surveyed the scene with more than satisfaction, exulting in the promise of prosperity it seemed to convey. Now all hisbusiness future was threatened by the coming of the sheep. 

After putting his horse in the corral, the ranch owner turned toward thehouse. As he walked slowly up the hill, he made a fine figure of a man;tall, straight, and bronzed like an Indian. His countenance in reposewas frank and cheerful, and he walked with the free, swinging stride ofan out-door man in full enjoyment of bodily health and vigor. Enteringthe cabin by the open door, he passed through to the rear where arattling of pots and pans and an appetizing smell of frying bacon toldthat supper was in progress. 

Bill Santry was standing by the stove, turning the bacon in its sizzlinggrease, with a knack which told of much experience in camp cookery. Theface which the lean and grizzled plainsman turned toward his friend wasseamed by a thousand tiny wrinkles in the leathery skin, the result ofyears of exposure to all kinds of weather. 

"Hello, Gordon!" he exclaimed. His pale blue eyes showed like pin pointsunder the shaggy, gray brows. "You're back early, just in time for me toremark that if we don't get a pot-wrastler for this here outfit prettydurn quick, the boys'll be cookin' their own chuck. I'm blamed if I'llherd this stove much longer. "

Wade smiled as he passed into the adjoining room to remove his spurs andchaps. "There's a Chinese coming up from town to-morrow, " he said. 

Santry peered across the stove to watch him as he moved about his room. The week before, a large picture of an extremely beautiful girl, whichshe had sent to Wade and which at first he had seemed to consider hismost precious ornament, had fallen face downward on the table. Santrywas curious to see how long it would be before Wade would set it upagain, and he chuckled to himself when he saw that no move was made todo so. Wade had presented Santry to the girl some months before, whenthe two men were on a cattle-selling trip to Chicago, and the oldplainsman had not cared for her, although he had recognized her beautyand knew that she was wealthy in her own right, and moreover was theonly child of a famous United States Senator. 

"There's thunder to pay over in the valley, Bill. " Wade had produced"makings, " and rolled himself a cigarette as he watched the foremancooking. "Sheep--thousands of them--are coming in. "

"What?" Santry straightened up with a jerk which nearly capsized thefrying pan. "Sheep? On our range? You ain't kiddin' me?"

"Nope. Wish I was, but it's a fact. The sheep are feeding on the grassthat we hoped to save against the winter. It's the Jensen outfit, Icould make that out from where I stood. "

"Hell!" Stamping angrily across the floor, Santry gazed out into thetwilight. "That dirty, low-lived Swede? But we'll fix him, boy. I knowhis breed, the skunk! I'll. .. . " The veins in the old plainsman's throatstood out and the pupils of his eyes contracted. "I'll run his blamedoutfit out of the valley before noon termorrer. I'll make Jensenwish. .. . "

"Steady, Bill!" Wade interposed, before the other could voice thethreat. "Violence may come later on perhaps; but right now we must tryto avoid a fight. "

"But by the great horned toad. .. !"

Santry stretched out his powerful hands and slowly clenched his fingers. He was thinking of the pleasure it would give him to fasten them onJensen. 

"The thing puzzles me, " Wade went on, flecking his cigarette through thewindow. "Jensen would never dare to come in here on his own initiative. He knows that we cowmen have controlled this valley for years, and he'sno fighter. There's lots of good grass on the other side of themountains, and he knows that as well as we do. Why does he take chances, then, on losing his stock, and maybe some of his herders by butting inhere?"

"That's what I want to know, " Santry immediately agreed, as though thethought were his own. "Answer me that! By the great horned toad! If Ihad my way. .. . "

"This country isn't what it was ten years ago, Bill. We're supposed tohave courts here now, you know. " Santry sighed heavily. "To-morrow, "Wade continued, "I'll ride over and have a talk with whoever's in chargeof the outfit. Maybe I can learn something. You stay here and keep Kellyand the rest quiet if they get wind of what's going on and seem inclinedto show fight. I've been, in a way, looking for trouble ever since werefused to let that fellow, Moran, get a foothold in the valley. If he'sback of this, we've got a clever man to fight. "

"There's another _hombre_ I'd like awful well to get my hands on to, "declared Santry belligerently. "Damned oily, greedy land shark! Allright, all right! Needn't say nothin', Don. You're the brains of thishere outfit, an' 'thout you say the word, I'll behave. But when the timecomes and you want a fightin' man, just let me at him! When you want torun some of these here crooks outer the country, you whisper quiet liketo old Bill Santry. Until then, I'll wait. That is--" He waved a warningfinger at Wade. --"That is, up to a certain point! We don't want war, that is to say, to want it, you understand me! But by the great hornedtoad, I ain't a-goin' to let no lousy, empty headed, stinkin', sheepherdin' Swede wipe his feet on me. No, siree, not by no means!"

Wade made no reply to this, and with a further admonitory shake of hisgrizzled head, the old man resumed his cooking. 

"You're sure that Chink'll be over in the mornin'?" he asked anxiously, after a little; and Wade nodded abstractedly. "Cookin' ain't no job fora white man in this weather. Breakin' rock in Hell would be plumb coolalongside of it. " He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back ofhis hand. "Say, do you remember them biscuits you made over in thePainted Rock country? The batch I et ain't digisted yet. 

"Every time I cook a meal, " he went on, chuckling, "I think about thetime Flour Sack Jim hired out to wrastle grub for that Englishman. FlourSack was one of your real old timers, rough and ready, with a heart asbig as a bucket, but he wouldn't bend his knee to no man livin'. TheEnglish jasper was all kinds of a swell, with money enough to burn a wetdog. For family reasons, he'd bought him a ranch and started to raisehosses. He wore one of these here two-peaked hats, with a bow on top, and he always had an eyeglass screwed into one eye. 

"The first night after Flour Sack come on his job, he got up a mess ofjack-rabbit stew, and stickin' his head out the door, yelled in realround-up style--'Come and git it!' Then he piled up his own plate andstarted in ter eat. In about ten minutes, in walks the English dude, andwhen he seen the cook eatin' away, he rares back and says, haughty-like--'Bless me soul, I cawn't eat with me servants, doncherknow. ' Flour Sack never bats an eye, but says, with his mouth full 'Takea cheer, ' he says, 'an' wait until I git through. '"

Although Wade had heard the story before, he laughed pleasantly asSantry began to dish up the food; then the latter summoned the hiredmen. 

"Mind, now, Bill, " Wade admonished. "Not a word about the sheep. "

The next morning, after a restless night, the young rancher set outalone for the sheep camp. He was more than ever concerned over theoutlook, because sleep had brought to his pillow visions of cattlestarving on a denuded range, and of Santry and Race Moran engaged in adeath struggle. Particularly because of the danger of this, he hadinsisted upon Santry staying at home. The old plainsman, scarredveteran of many a frontier brawl, was too quick tempered and tooproficient with his six-shooter to take back-talk from the despisedsheep herders or to bandy words with a man he feared and hated. Wade wasbecoming convinced that Moran was responsible for the invasion of therange, although still at a loss for his reasons. The whole affair wasmarked with Moran's handiwork and the silent swiftness of his methods. 

This Race Moran was a stranger who had come to Crawling Water somemonths before, and for reasons best known to himself, had been trying toingratiate himself in the neighborhood, but, although he seemed to haveplenty of funds, the ranch and stock men did not take kindly to hisadvances. He posed as the agent of some Eastern capitalists, and he hadopened an office which for sumptuous appointments had never been equaledin that part of the country; but he had not been able to buy or leaseland at the prices he offered and his business apparently had notprospered. Then sheep had begun to appear in great flocks in variousparts of the surrounding country and some of these flocks to overflowinto Crawling Water Valley. Moran denied, at first, that they had comeat his instance, but later on, he tacitly admitted to the protestingcattlemen that he had a certain amount of interest in sheep raising. 

More far-sighted than some of his neighbors, Wade had leased a largestrip of land in the valley for use as winter range. Moran had seemed towant this land badly, and had offered a really fair price for it, butWade had not cared to sell. Relying upon his privilege as lessee, Wadehad not feared the approach of the sheep, and he had no reason to wishto dispose of his holdings. Now, it began to look as if the purpose wasto "sheep" him out of his own territory, so that the agent might buy upthe lease and homestead rights on practically his own terms. The thinghad been done before in various parts of the cattle country. 

Cattle and sheep cannot live on the same range, and when sheep takepossession of a country, cattle must move out of it, or starve. Nowonder, then, that the cattlemen of Crawling Water Valley were aroused. Their livelihood was slipping away from them, day by day, for unlessprompt steps were taken the grass would be ruined by the woolly plague. 

Thus far, Gordon Wade, a leader in the cattle faction, had been firm forpeaceful measures though some of the ranchers had threatened an open waron the herders. "Avoid bloodshed at almost any cost, " had been hisadvice, and he had done his best to restrain the more hot-headed membersof his party, who were for shooting the sheep and driving out theherders at the rifle point. But there was a limit, even to Wade'spatience, and his jaws squared grimly as he considered the probableresult, should Moran and his followers, the sheep owners, persist intheir present course of action. 

It was still very early in the morning when Wade arrived at the herder'scamp. Oscar Jensen, a short, thick-set man, with an unwholesome, heavyface, stepped out of the little tent as the rancher rode up. 

"Mornin'. "

"Good-morning!" The cattleman affected a cheerfulness which he did notfeel. "Are these your sheep, Mr. Jensen?" He waved in the direction ofthe grazing band, a dirty white patch on the green of the valley. 

"Yes. "

"Perhaps you don't know that you are on Double Arrow land? I've riddenover to ask you to move your sheep. They're spoiling our grass. "

Jensen grinned sardonically, for he had been expecting Wade's visit andwas prepared for it. 

"I got a right here, " he said. "There's plenty good grass here and Itake my sheep where they get fat. This is government land. "

"It is government land, " Wade quietly acknowledged, "but you have noright on it. I control this range, I've paid for it, and unless you movewithin the next twelve hours you'll be arrested for trespass. "

The sheepman's sullen face darkened with anger. 

"Who'll do it? The sheriff won't, and I'm not afeerd of you cattlemen. My sheep must eat as well as your cattle, and I got a good right here. Iwon't move. "

"Then remember that I warned you if you get into trouble, Jensen. There's plenty of open range and good water on the other side of thehills. I advise you to trail your sheep there before it is too late. Don't think that Race Moran can save you from the law. Moran is notrunning this valley, and don't you forget it. "

"How do you know Moran's backin' me?" The Swede could not conceal hissurprise. "You can't bluff me, Wade. I know my rights, and I'm goin' tostick to 'em. "

"The devil you say!" Now that he was sure of Moran's complicity in thematter, Wade felt himself becoming angry, in spite of his resolve tokeep cool. "You'd best listen to reason and pull out while you're ableto travel. There are men in this valley who won't waste time in talkwhen they know you're here. "

"Bah!" Jensen snorted contemptuously. "I can take care of myself. I knowwhat I'm doin', I tell you. "

"You may, but you don't act like it, " was Wade's parting remark, as heturned his horse and rode off. 

"Go to hell!" the Swede shouted after him. 

Heading toward Crawling Water, the ranch owner rode rapidly over thesun-baked ground, too full of rage to take notice of anything except hisown helplessness. The sting of Jensen's impudence lay in Wade'srealization that to enlist the aid of the sheriff against the sheep manwould be very difficult, if not altogether impossible. There was verylittle law in that region, and what little there was seemed, somehow, tohave been taken under the direction of Race Moran. 

It was now broad day and the prairie warmed to the blazing sun. Long, rolling stretches of grass, topped with rocks and alkaline sand, gaveback a blinding glare like the reflection of a summer sea, from whicharose a haze of gray dust like ocean mists over distant reaches. Far tothe South, a lone butte lifted its corrugated front in forbiddingmajesty. 

Beyond the summit of the butte was a greenish-brown plateau of sagebrushand bunch-grass. Behind this mesa, a range of snow-topped mountains cutthe horizon with their white peaks, and in their deep and gloomy canyonslurked great shadows of cool, rich green. As far as the eye could see, there was no sign of life save Wade and his mount. 

The horse's feet kicked up a cloud of yellow dust that hung in the airlike smoke from a battery of cannon. It enveloped the ranchman, who rodewith the loose seat and straight back of his kind; it came to lie deeplyon his shoulders and on his broad-brimmed Stetson hat, and in thewrinkles of the leather chaps that encased his legs. He looked steadilyahead, from under reddened eyelids, over the trackless plain thatencompassed him. At a pace which would speedily cover the twenty oddmiles to Crawling Water, he rode on his way to see Race Moran. 

Two hours later Oscar Jensen was shot from behind as he was walkingalone, a little distance from his camp. He fell dead and his assassindisappeared without being seen. 

CHAPTER II

A MEETING AND A PARTING

Had some one of Gordon Wade's multitude of admirers in the East seen himas he stood looking out over his Wyoming ranch, he might have recognizedthe true cowboy composure with which the ranchman faced the comingstorm, but he would not have recognized the stripling who had wonscholastic and athletic honors at Princeton a few short years before, and who had spent a year after graduating in aimless travel and recklessadventure. 

After flitting rapidly and at random almost all over the habitableglobe, he had returned to his home in New York with some thought ofsettling down there, but the old family mansion was empty excepting forthe servants, and his sense of loneliness and sorrow for the loved oneswho were no longer there to greet him, drove him on speedily and heturned toward the West to explore his own country last of all, as somany other travelers do. 

Attracted by the surpassing beauty of the country, he had lingered inWyoming long enough to feel fascination of the ranch life that was thento be found in all its perfection in the wilder part of that State, andrealizing that he had found the precise location and vocation thatsuited him, he had converted his modest fortune into cash, and investedall in the Double Arrow Ranch. 

But on his way thither, he had stopped in Chicago, and there he had comeface to face with Romance. 

Before he had gone a dozen steps after getting off the train, some onedealt him a mighty blow between the shoulders, that well nigh sent himspinning. Before he could recover himself, he was caught from behind andhurled headlong into a taxicab. 

"I've heard of Western hospitality before, " he said, calmly, before hecould see who his assailant was, "but you seem to be hard up forguests. "

"No, " said his college chum, George Stout, grinning happily as heclambered into the taxi, "but I wasn't taking chances; somebody elsemight have seen you first. "

Followed three feverish days and nights; then as they sat in pajamas inStout's apartment, Wade said: "I don't imagine there is anything more tosee or do in this hectic city of yours, and I am free to say I don'tlike it; I think I'll move on. "

"Not yet, " said Stout, with the grin that endeared him to everybody thatever met him. "You've only seen the outside edges so far. To-night youare going to break into society. "

"Do they have society here?" asked Wade. 

"Well, they call it that, " still grinning, "anyhow you'll be interested, not to say amused. The game is new as yet, but they go through themotions, and Oh, boy, how lavish they are! You'll see everything moneycan buy this evening, and probably meet people you wouldn't be likelyto run across anywhere else. 

"You're bidden to appear, sir, at the ornate mansion of a Senator of theUnited States--the Senator, perhaps, I should say, I've secured theinvitation, and Mrs. Rexhill will never recognize me again if you don'tgo. "

"Would that be serious?"

"Very serious. I am counsel for one of the Senator's companies. "

"And does that imply social obligation?"

"It does with Mrs. Rexhill. "

"Oh, very well, I'll go anywhere once, but who is Mrs. Rexhill? Isuppose, of course, she is the Senator's wife, but who is she insociety? I never heard of her. "

"You wouldn't; it isn't what she is, it is what she wants to be. Youmust not laugh at her; she is doing the best she can. You'll admit onething readily enough when you see her. She is probably the handsomestwoman of her age in Chicago, and she isn't more than forty. Where theSenator found her, I can't say, but she was his wife when he made hisfirst strike in Denver, and I will say to his credit that he has alwaysbeen a devoted husband. "

"I'm glad to hear something to his credit, " said Wade dryly. "Thegeneral impression I've gathered from reading the newspapers lately, hasn't been of the most exalted sort. "

"Oh, well, " replied Stout, and his habitual grin faded away as he spoke. "A man in public life always makes enemies, and the Senator has plentyof them. It almost seems sometimes that he has more enemies thanfriends, and yet he has certainly been a very successful man, not onlyin politics, but in business. He has more irons in the fire than any oneelse I know, and somehow or other he seems to put everything through. Idoubt if he could do so well if he was not at the same time a politicalpower. "

"Yes, " said Wade, still more dryly. "I have heard the two factsmentioned together. "

"Come, come, " said Stout, more earnestly than he was in the habit ofspeaking, "you mustn't put too much faith in what the newspapers say. Iknow how they talk about him in the other party, but I happen to knowhim pretty well personally, and there is a good side to him as I supposethere is to everybody. Anyhow, he pays me well for my professionalservices, and I have seen nothing thus far that leads me to be disloyalto him. "

It seemed to Wade's sensitive ear that his friend was speaking with alarge mental reservation, but wisely reflecting that the matter did notconcern him, he said no more, and when evening came, he went, willinglyenough, to make the acquaintance of the man who was then counted as oneof the greatest political powers in the country. Nor had he anypremonition that in the near future he and his host of the evening wouldbe engaged in a life and death struggle. 

Of all that, however, there was no present indication whatever. On thecontrary, the great man welcomed him with all the suavity of manner forwhich he was equally as famous as he was for the over-bearing rudenesshe often displayed when his will was disputed. This latter trait had wonfor him the nickname of the Czar of American Politics; but he was anadroit politician, not lacking in courtesy to guests in his own house. Moreover, he was keen in his appraisal of men and quick to see that aman of Wade's type would be more valuable to him as an ally than as afoe. 

Accordingly, he presented the young aristocrat to Mrs. Rexhill, whoopenly showed her delight in meeting one of such distinguishedappearance, and with a great display of cordiality, she introduced himto her daughter Helen. 

"It is her coming-out party, Mr. Wade, " she said, gushingly, "and youmust do all you can to make it a happy occasion. "

One glance at the beautiful girl who stood before him was enough todetermine Wade that her evening should be as happy as he could make it. The glaring ostentation of the house and its equipment had offended hisfastidious taste when he entered, and the sight of the really handsome, but vulgarly overdressed and richly be-jeweled mother, had made himshudder inwardly, but when he looked into Helen's eyes, he forgot allhis first impressions and imagined himself in Fairyland for theremainder of the evening. 

An older head than his might easily have been turned and a wiser manbewildered by the tender glances of the charming girl who frankly methis advances half way, being as much impressed by his appearance as hewith hers, and showing carelessness equal to his in regard to thecomment they excited among the other guests. One thing that HelenRexhill had never learned at school, or from the parents who had doneall that could be done to spoil her, was to conceal her feelings. Justnow she felt no inclination to do it, and she gave Wade dance afterdance, with reckless disregard of her engagements and of theill-concealed anger of some of the men she threw over with uttercarelessness of social obligation. 

Wade saw it clearly enough, but the preference she showed for him was soflattering as to make him indifferent, even had he considered himselfresponsible. He was therefore amused rather than exultant when man afterman came up to claim a dance, only to be told "I just promised this oneto Mr. Wade. "

One such there was, who took his rebuff exceeding ill. Instead ofretiring as the others had done, he stepped up closer to the girl andsaid rudely, "That's all very well, Helen, but you promised me first, and I hold you to it. "

And he looked contemptuously at Wade who had started in surprise at hiswords, and had stiffened himself instinctively, as if to interfere, butwho controlled himself instantly and kept silent despite hisinclination. 

A moment later he was glad he had done so. Helen's eyes flashed and shestraightened her form proudly as she spoke. 

"Did I really promise you, Race Moran? If I did, I have forgotten it, and anyhow, I am going to sit this dance out with Mr. Wade in theconservatory. "

Race Moran, as she called him, was a handsome enough man, though ratherflashy in appearance. But the evil look that came quickly on his face, no less than his huge and burly build, indicated that he would have beenmore at home in a barroom or a street fight, than where he was. For justa moment he seemed about to say more, but apparently thought better ofit, and turning away with what sounded like a muttered oath, he walkedtoward the Senator, who stood at the other side of the room. 

"I've made an enemy for you, Mr. Wade, " said Helen, half laughingly andhalf seriously, as she led the way to the conservatory, closely followedby her eager escort. 

"Well, " said Wade lightly, "they say a man is poor, indeed, who hasn't afew enemies. I don't know that one more or less is of great importance, but it is well to know something about them. Who is the gentleman?"

"I hardly think you would call him a gentleman, " said Helen, "though hethinks he's one; I wouldn't tolerate him a moment, only on my father'saccount. Dad calls him a political heeler, and says he is very useful. "

"He ought to be that, " said Wade, smiling; "I'd hardly call himornamental. "

"Indeed he isn't, " said Helen, pouting prettily, "and he presumes toomuch on Dad's favor. He actually persecutes me with his attentions, butyou know a politician's daughter has to put up with a good deal, sometimes. "

"I don't think you need to suffer much, " said Wade, gallantly. "You willalways find admirers enough to stand between you and any trouble you mayhave. I rather think there is one of them coming this way at the moment. I shall certainly take pleasure in recognizing Mr. Moran as an enemy, but is this likely to be another one?"

"Oh, no, " said Helen, laughingly, as an effeminate looking young mancame up, evidently in search of her. 

"I beg pardon, Miss Helen, " he said, with a bow that seemed to includeWade, politely enough, in the apology, "But your mother asked me to findyou. She wants you to meet some new guests who have just arrived. "

"Oh, bother, " said Helen carelessly. "She can look after them for awhile. Tell her I'll be with her by-and-by, " and she turned back toWade, paying no further attention to the luckless messenger, whodeparted, hiding his chagrin as best he could, though not verysuccessfully. 

After he had gone, she said, "No, I don't think Maxwell Frayne is likelyto be an enemy; at least, not one that you need fear. He is a gentleman, though he is too insipid to interest me. "

"And you think Moran is a man to fear, " asked Wade, trying to speakgravely, but showing amusement in spite of himself. 

"I don't believe you fear the devil, " said Helen, with open admiration, "but Race Moran can be very dangerous, and I feel sure he will try toinjure you, if he ever finds a chance. "

"Well in that case he will at least be interesting, " said Wade, lightly. He would have been amazed if he had realized at the time how propheticthe girl's words were. 

For the moment, however, he had little thought of peril and adventuresto come. The time, the girl and the place, were all at hand, and heplunged headlong into a complication that kept him for weeks in Chicago, strongly inclined to stay permanently, yet reluctant to settle in a cityso little to his liking, when the great out-doors was calling to him sourgently. 

While the petals of the passion flower were unfolding so rapidly in theconservatory, Race Moran had taken the Senator to the latter's privateroom where they had had many secret conferences before. He had done thegreat man favors in New York where he was a valuable cog in thepolitical machine, while the Senator was still a newcomer in the field, and with accurate judgment he had foreseen that Rexhill would be awinner. 

Quick to see opportunities, he had cultivated the latter's acquaintanceand courted his favor until he had become the Senator's most trustedadherent, and was admitted to the closest intimacy, so that he hadbecome a constant visitor in the Rexhill home, and had definitelydetermined in his own mind, to become one of the family. He knew wellenough that Helen disliked him, but his ideas of women had been gainedfrom association with a class that is easily dominated, and he wasconfident of his own powers, which, in fact, were very considerable. 

The Senator was not blind to the other's purpose, but though he was farfrom approving it, having other ideas concerning the daughter heidolized, he had not sought to discourage Moran, nor did he intend to. He would let him go on until a crisis should come, and in the meantime, Moran had not declared himself. 

Helen's insolence at the door of the conservatory, however, had stungMoran, and as soon as he had the Senator in seclusion, he broke out. 

"Who is that puppy Helen has on a string to-night?" he demanded roughly. 

But the Senator could overlook rudeness when it suited his purpose to doso. 

"I wouldn't call him a puppy exactly, " he said, pleasantly enough; "heis a good deal younger than you and I, but he comes of pretty good stockin your town, Moran, and Stout tells me he has distinguished himselfalready in two or three ways. I reckon he'd be a pretty good friend tohave, if he ever takes an interest in politics. "

"Oh, I know the Wade family all right, " said Moran impatiently; "theybelong to the silk stockings, but we have our own way of dealing withthat kind in New York, and I'm able to do the same thing anywhere else, if I have to. Maybe I will have to if he comes between me and Helen. Senator, I want to marry that girl myself. I ain't asking your consent, exactly, for me and her will be likely to do what we want to, anyhow, but I'd a heap rather have you favor the match. "

That was almost too much, but the Senator knew his man and also knewhow valuable he was. There was no sense in breaking with him until itwas unavoidable, so he still spoke pleasantly, though he had flushedwith anger for a moment. 

"Yes, I reckon you and Helen will do as you like about it, especially asHelen likes. It was sort of decent of you to speak to me first, butthere doesn't seem to be anything particular for me to say till you findout what Helen really thinks. "

"Oh, I'll find that out, all right, " said Moran, boastfully. "But thisWade person better look out; I might have him run into the river somenight, if he pokes his nose in too far. "

"I'd go easy on that, if I were you, " said the Senator laughingheartily, "a dead Wade might interfere with your plans worse than a liveone. "

"Oh, of course, " replied Moran, refusing to laugh. "I talk foolish withmy mouth sometimes, when I'm mad, but all the same, he'd better lookout. "

"Now I wonder, " said the Senator thoughtfully, after the other had lefthim, "how long it will be before he does find out, and how serious itwill be. He's hit pretty hard, but I will have to keep him along someway or other; I can't afford to lose him. "

And he sat musing over his cigar till one by one his guests had gone, but not until the great drawing room was well-nigh empty, did Helenleave the conservatory. 

For a few weeks thereafter Chicago seemed, to Gordon Wade's fancy, to bethe very center of the Universe. Gradually, however, the sturdy natureof the man asserted itself, and realizing that for him there were manymore desirable places, he determined to look farther before choosing apermanent home. He told Helen frankly of his purpose, and to his greatsatisfaction she approved. There was no definite word of marriagebetween them, though they both looked forward to it and both, at thetime of parting, deemed the understanding complete between them. 

Helen would have had him turn to the East, for her heart was set on citylife in one of the world's great capitals, but he declared he must seethe West before deciding, and though she was dissatisfied, she was toowise to seek the domination she intended, at that stage of the game. 

He departed, therefore, to find in Wyoming later on, his ideal of ahome. His thought of Chicago thereafter, was that of the place where thegirl he thought he loved was waiting for him, to claim her, so soon ashis home was made suitable. There was much to do by way of preparation, however, and almost imperceptibly his ardor cooled as he found himselfbecoming prominent among the bold and independent citizens who wererapidly putting Wyoming on the map. 

CHAPTER III

JEALOUSY

Meantime, many things of great interest to Gordon Wade happened withouthis knowledge. 

A national election at which the previously dominant party was defeated, was a sad blow to Senator Rexhill, who not only suffered in prestige butin pocket. There was no question, even in the minds of his friends, thathe frequently used his political influence to back up the many businessenterprises in which he held an interest, and in which the greater partof his quickly-made fortune was invested. With the loss of his politicalpull, disaster came to one after another of those enterprises, and hissuccessive losses were soon heavy enough to drive him almost todesperation. 

His previous successes, however, had all been due to the audacity of hisplans, for his boldness and courage were unquestionable. For a time hefelt confident of winning again, and accordingly, maintained his lavishexpenditures and luxurious style of living, with no word of caution tohis wife and daughter, and he continued to seek for the long chances inbusiness that offered the largest risks and the greatest gains. 

All the redeeming qualities of his nature (and he had more than hisenemies gave him credit for), were shown in his family life, and it wasnot surprising that Helen and her mother were both undisturbed by thegathering storm, but continued to live as he encouraged them to, havingperfect confidence in his ability to overcome any and all thedifficulties he might encounter. 

Mrs. Rexhill continued to dream of social distinction. Failing to seethat she had lost much of her own prestige by the Senator's politicalreverses, she continued to entertain so extravagantly in her palatialhome, that she was still tolerated and she took infinite satisfaction inthe position she thought she occupied. 

She considered Chicago the greatest city in the world, and she dreamedof Helen as its queen. To her mind, the easiest way to accomplish thatambition was to persuade Helen to marry Maxwell Frayne. He hadpersistently courted the girl ever since he first met her, and he washeir to the great Frayne fortune. 

The idea was not entirely revolting to Helen, though she had a smallopinion of the elegant young trifler who pursued her so persistently, for she, too, had social aspirations, though being more clear-sightedthan her mother, she dreamed of wider circles than those of Chicago. Herhusband, whoever he was to be, should take her to Paris, or at least toNew York. 

Her infatuation for Gordon Wade, however, was as strong as ever. Perhapsshe was right in thinking of it as true love, but she was greatlyannoyed by Wade's choice of a ranchman's life, and by his settling downout of the world, as she considered he had done. Her letters to him, tender as they were, told him plainly enough of her dissatisfaction, andthereby undoubtedly contributed to the slow growth of his indifference. 

For a time she failed to perceive this, and enjoying the excitement ofthe life she was leading, she was content to wait till Wade should tireof the wilderness, as she fully expected him to do, and should return toher. So she drifted, until after a time her suspicions were aroused bythe tone of his letters, and she became anxious. 

As time went on, Senator Rexhill's affairs became more and moreinvolved. He realized that he stood little chance of reëlection, whenhis term of office should expire, and meantime, his fortune dwindledrapidly, though he was still careful not to betray that fact at home. 

Moran knew the situation perfectly well, but he remained outwardly loyalto his employer, partly because of the latter's liberality, but more, perhaps, because of the hope he still had of winning Helen eventually, despite the dislike she took no pains to hide. 

Knowing how bold the Senator was in his speculations, he came to him oneday with an exciting story. 

"There's a guy in town, " he said, "who may be just a plain nut, but hehas the name of being a scientific sharp who knows his business from Ato Izzard, and he's either got something almighty big, or he's got thewillies. 

"What he says is, that he's found gold in a new spot and oodles of it. According to what he tells, it beats California in '49. It's so big, hesays, that he's scared stiff, thinking he can't grab enough of it, andhe don't know, no more'n a baby, what to do with it. So he's looking forsomebody to take hold of it in a big way and give him a whack. "

"Where is this gold?" asked the Senator incredulously. 

"That's the funny part of it, " says Moran; "it's in Wyoming, and as nearas I can make out, it must be close to where that young squirt is thatHelen thinks she's stuck on. I'm not sure but what it's on his place, but even if it is, there is no reason why he should have any of it. Theexpense will be pretty heavy to do the thing up right, but if you'regame, I reckon we can hog the whole business. We can stall thisscientific nut off with promises, and probably buy off Wade for theprice of pasture land, and then file claim on the whole dog-gone tract. "

This vision of enormous wealth was captivating to the Senator, who hadmade his first start in mining and knew something of its possibilities. Bold as he was, however, he was also cautious, but after severalconferences with Moran, he fell in with the scheme, first securing theservices of a skilled metallurgist and an equally capable engineer, whowere liberally paid and solemnly sworn to secrecy. He sent them out toverify the discoverer's story, and sent Moran to Crawling Water, toestablish himself, and to do such preparatory work as should benecessary. In due time, Moran reported by letter that the gold waslocated, and was beyond question abundant. He was having trouble, however, in getting the property, as Wade refused to sell. 

"Of course, " he wrote, "we can file mining claims on the ground we knowof, and get possession that way, but we want to make more surveysbefore doing that, so as to be sure of getting all there is, and wecan't do that without giving the whole snap away, and filling themountains full of prospectors. If that damn Wade won't sell, I'll findsome means to drive him away. "

It was just after the receipt of this letter, which filled the Senatorwith hope on the one hand, and anxiety on the other that he came onHelen one evening, as she was entering her own sitting room, andfollowed her in for a chat. 

"What are you thinking of?" he asked, presently, when she failed tonotice some trivial question he had asked, and seemed to be in areverie. 

She looked at him with laughing eyes. 

"Crawling Water. "

"Gordon Wade, eh? Well, I wouldn't think of him too much. Better letthat pass. You've outgrown it. "

"Oh, no I haven't. "

The Senator sighed. 

"Mother said to me a little while ago, that he was probably going withother girls and forgetting me, and it made me angry. "

"Well, I reckon your mother is about right. Gordon is a likely lookingchap, you know. I've got nothing against him, except that he isn't goodenough for you; no man is. You don't really care so much for him, doyou?"

"Oh, don't I?" She viewed her father through half closed lids, in aquizzical way. "I care so very much for him that if I really thoughtthere was another girl, I would go to Crawling Water to-morrow. You'dhave to drop everything and take me. "

Her father gently pinched her cheek. 

"I would, eh? Well, maybe I'll have to go out there anyway. But do yourealize what Crawling Water is like, --a rough, frontier town?"

"I wouldn't mind that for a while. "

"No, I suppose not. You've got too much of your old dad in you to balkat a few difficulties. There's somebody else out there who'd be mightyglad to see your pretty face. Race Moran. "

"Mr. Moran!"

The sudden change in the girl's tone from tenderness to scorn caused theSenator a twinge of uneasiness. His plans were so closely linked withMoran's for the present, that the man might prove dangerous if his lovefor Helen were too openly scorned. That she could scarcely tolerate him, despite his ability and force of character, her father knew from thepast; but even in the moment of his need he did not seek to influenceher in Moran's favor. His love for her was genuine and very deep. 

"He's been out there for some time, as my agent. "

"Yes, I know that. He--he has written to me, although I've neveranswered his letters. I've been curious to hear from him again, becausehe promised to send me some kodaks of Crawling Water. "

"Maybe he hasn't done so because you've ignored his letters. "

Helen's lip curled in disdain. 

"He'd never let a little thing like that stop him. But perhaps I willanswer the next one, if only to find out what is going on out there. It's all so very mysterious. Do you know, father, "--She playfully shookher finger at him--"this is the first time in a long while that youhaven't taken me into your confidence, and I think it a very ominoussign. I'm sure you'll be punished for it. "

The Senator winced at the word punished, and Helen laughed at what shethought was the effect of her raillery. 

"Why don't you tell me? You see, I'm so worried about Gordon. Honestly, father, I'm serious about that. I--I love him, and I don't want himhurt. "

"Hurt? Why, who is thinking of hurting him?"

"Oh, I don't know. Moran hates him, and has referred to him once ortwice in a way that I do not understand. Do tell me all about it. "

"Oh, well, my dear, there's really nothing to tell. It's all concernedwith some homestead lands out there that I want to get hold of for aninvestment. Wade will not be hurt, no; that is, he won't be if he beatsme out. If I win, he'll lose. "

"He will?"

"We both can't win, of course. It's to be a fight, yes, --an amicablebusiness struggle, I hope. There's no reason for it to be otherwise. "The Senator appeared strangely nervous, despite his effort atself-control. "Wade as a man and a Westerner doesn't expect to be fed onpap, you know, any more than I do. May the best man win, that's the wayof it. "

Helen thought this over for a moment. 

"Perhaps I'd better go out there with you, after all, " she remarked, half in jest. 

Then the Senator thought that over for a moment and left the room. 

Next day Helen received a package by mail which proved to contain adozen clear photographs of Crawling Water and its neighborhood. 

First of all, as though Moran thought it most important, was a snapshotof himself, which had been taken, so he wrote on the back of the print, by an obliging cowboy. The girl's face was a study in amused scorn asshe looked at the photograph, for which Moran has posed with a cigar inhis mouth, his hands in his pockets. 

Then there were a number of views of the town itself; of its mainstreet, its hotel, its dance-hall, and of "some of the boys" in variousposes of photographic self-consciousness. There were also pictures ofthe marvelously beautiful countryside, but as she neared the end ofthem, Helen was disappointed to find none of Wade. "Of course, hewouldn't send me one of _him_, " she said petulantly to herself, and shewas rapidly running through the remaining prints only to pause suddenlyat the very last, while a rosy tide flooded her face and neck. 

The little photograph showed a tall, handsome, vigorous looking man, inthe garb of a cattleman, half turned in his saddle, with one handresting on his pony's flank. The man was Wade. With his other hand, hewas pointing ahead, apparently for the benefit of a girl--a very goodlooking girl whose fine head was thrown back, as the wind blew her hairinto pretty disorder. 

Helen Rexhill had not hitherto experienced real jealousy, but thislittle photograph excited it. In the highly actinic light of CrawlingWater at noon the camera had done its work well, and the figures of thetwo stood out from the distant background with stereoscopic clearness. Wade was smiling at the girl, who seemed to be laughing back at him, although her face in the picture was partially turned away, so thatHelen got only an impression of charm. But the impression was enough torouse her jealousy. 

On the back of the print, Moran had written:

"A surprise picture of Gordon Wade and our new fellow-townswoman, MissDorothy Purnell, whose beauty and general attractiveness have made herthe idol of Crawling Water. "

CHAPTER IV

THE GATHERING STORM

On the north bank of the river, from which it derived its name, the townof Crawling Water lay sprawled out in the shape of an irregular horn. Its original settlers had been men of large ideas, and having had plentyof space at their disposal, they had used it lavishly. The streets, bordered by dusty, weather-beaten, frame buildings, were as wide asthose of a large city; indeed, in area, the town could compete with manya metropolis; but there the resemblance ended. Crawling Water was notfated to become a big city. The fact that the nearest railroad point wasat Sheridan, forty miles away, did away with any ambitions that CrawlingWater might have had to be more than a neighborhood center. 

The mixed population was composed of cattlemen, sheep men, cow punchersand herders, with a sprinkling of gamblers and other riff-raff. Rough, uncouth, full-blooded men, they were, for the most part; hard working;decisive in their likes and dislikes; fearing neither God nor man, theymet Life as they found it and faced Death with a laugh. They were thelast of a fast disappearing type, picturesque, but lacking in many ofthe attributes which differentiate mankind from the beasts. 

Hardly more than a village, Crawling Water was yet a town, and the seatof such machinery of government as had been established, andaccordingly, Gordon Wade had ridden directly thither after his far fromsatisfactory interview with Oscar Jensen. After he had stabled his horseand seen it fed, he started up the street in the direction of Moran'soffice. He was resolved to find out where the agent stood on the sheepquestion without any unnecessary delay. Save for a few dogs, sleeping inthe blaze of the noon-day sun, which hung overhead like a ball of fire, the town seemed deserted. 

When Wade entered the office, Moran was seated at his desk, chewing on acigar, above which his closely cropped reddish mustache bristled. LikeSenator Rexhill, he was a man of girth and bulk, but his ape-like bodywas endowed with a strength which not even his gross life had been ableto wreck, and he was always muscularly fit. Except for the miner's hipboots, which he wore, he was rather handsomely dressed, and would havebeen called tastefully so in the betting ring of a metropolitanrace-track, where his diamond scarf-pin and ring would have beenadmired. 

"Hello!" he boomed as Wade entered. "Have a cigar. " He pushed a box ofan excellent brand toward his visitor and waved him to a chair. Hisgreeting was noisy rather than cordial. 

Wade declined both the chair and the cigar. 

"I dropped in to find out why you told Jensen to run his sheep in on myrange, " he began bluntly. 

"Let me see--" The agent very deliberately lifted a large, white handand took the cigar out of his mouth. "Just what range is that?"

"The upper valley range which I have under lease. "

"Which you have under lease?" Moran affected sarcastic surprise. "Iwasn't aware that you had any legal right to that part of the valley. It's government land, ain't it?"

"You seem to have forgotten that you once tried to buy the lease fromme. " The rancher bared his teeth in a grim smile. "We'll not quibbleover that, however. We've got our legal rights, all of us; but we're along distance from the courts here. What I want to know in plain Englishis, will you order Jensen to trail those sheep? Now, wait a moment!"

Moran subsided with a show of tolerance he did not feel. 

"Think well before you answer, " Wade went on. "I'm not here to threatenyou, but there are desperate men in this valley who will take mattersinto their own hands, if this business is not stopped. There's plenty ofgrass on the other side of the mountains and your sheep are welcome toit. Why don't you make use of it?"

"Why should I? The sheep have a right to be where they are and therethey'll stay until I get ready to move 'em. You cattlemen think you ownthis country, but when it comes to the show down, you're a bunch ofbluffers. Now, Wade, I made you an offer once, --I'll admit it, and I'llmake it again for the last time. Sell me your homestead and lease rightsat the price I offered you--ten thousand dollars, and get out smiling. There isn't room for the two of us in the valley. "

"Ten thousand for the homestead and the lease combined!" Wade laughedmirthlessly. "You're crazy, man. Why, you offered me that much for thelease alone a few weeks ago. "

"Did I? I'd forgotten it. Anyway, it's a fair offer. The land is stillowned by Uncle Sam, you know. You haven't proved up on your claims, andyou never will if I can help it. We are spending lots of money here, andthe government will see that our interests are protected. You cattlemencan't hog the whole of Crawling Water Valley. Times have changed. Well, what do you say?"

The ranchman dismissed the proposition with a gesture, but did notimmediately speak. Silently, the two big men faced each other, theirglances crossing like rapiers: the cattleman like a statue in bronze inthe fixed rigidity of his attitude, but with an expression that showedhim one dangerous to trifle with; the agent affecting that half tolerantamusement which one may feel toward an enemy unworthy of one's prowess. Wade presently broke the silence. 

"Moran, you may be a big man in the East, but you're not big enough forthe job you've tackled here. I've held my friends back as long as Ican--longer than I thought I could--and when they break loose, thisvalley will be a little hell, perhaps a shambles. Men are going to bekilled, and I have a feeling that you are going to be one of them. Against that time, once more, I warn you. Tell Jensen to trail hissheep!"

Swinging on his heel, the ranchman left the office, paying no attentionto the ironical "Good night, " which Moran called after him. 

In the street, Wade chanced upon a neighboring cattle owner, LemTrowbridge of the Circle Heart outfit, who fell into step with him. 

"Gordon, how long are we going to stand for this thing, eh? Say, do youknow what some are saying about you? Now, I'm your friend, and I'mtelling you straight that you've gone far enough with this pacifiststuff. "

"They say I'm afraid, I suppose?" Wade stopped and faced Trowbridge. "Have they said that to you?"

"To me? Say, what the ---- kind of a friend do you take me for?"Trowbridge flamed up like a match. "No, they haven't said just that, Gordon; but they're hinting, and I don't like it. "

"Well, if you hear it direct, send the man on to me with it, " said Wade, his lips compressing ominously. "I'm about through, Lem, not quite, butpretty nearly. I've told Moran to have Jensen trail those sheep, and ifhe doesn't. .. . "

Trowbridge nodded and smiled, as they paused at a street corner--one ofthe few that Crawling Water possessed. 

"That's the idea, Gordon. We'll all be the readier for the waiting. Well, I'll not go any farther with you. " He winked with elaborateprecision and looked in the direction of a snug little cottage, withflower boxes in the windows, a biscuit toss away. "She's home. I saw herleave the store yonder a little while ago. "

Wade blushed like a boy and looked foolish. 

"I don't get into town so very often, " he began lamely, when Trowbridgeslapped him heartily on the back. 

"You don't need to make any excuses to me, old man, " he said, movingoff. "That little woman has put Crawling Water on edge with admiration. You're not the only one--or, maybe, you are. "

Secretly eager though Wade was to reach the cottage, the nearer heapproached it, the slower he walked, fuming at himself for his suddenspinelessness. Although no ladies' man, he had never been woman waryuntil lately, and this of itself was a sign, the significance of whichhe was far from realizing. When he was with Dorothy Purnell, he almostforgot her sex in the easy companionability of their relationship; whenaway from her, he thought no more of her than he might of some manfriend; but the approach had become a matter of embarrassing difficultywith him. There had even been occasions when he had walked past thecottage and ridden home without seeing her, trying speciously toconvince himself that such had all along been his intention. 

Something of the sort might have happened now had she not hailed himfrom the open doorway. 

"Whither bound, stranger?" she smilingly demanded, in her low, richcontralto. "Better come in where it's cool. Mother'll be glad to seeyou, and I--shan't mind. "

She had come to Crawling Water for the restorative effect of the bracingmountain air upon the health of her mother, who was threatened withnervous invalidism, following the death of Mr. Purnell, two yearsbefore. The town called them Easterners because their home was as farEast as Michigan, but they had never been city dwellers, as Dorothy'sfresh complexion and lithe, alert figure bore witness. 

Her chestnut hair, piled in a silken crown on her shapely head, shaded aface that made those who saw it for the first time, catch their breathin instant admiration. Her radiance was of a glorious, compelling, andwholly distinct type, as refreshing as some view of green mountains fromout a gloomy canyon. She had eyes, blue in repose, but shading to violettints when aglow with vivacity; her nose was not perfect, because atrifle tip-tilted, but her face gained character through the defect; hervery red lips held most delicious allurement in their slightly fullcurves. Her hands and feet were small enough to pay tribute to her birthand breeding, but not so small as to be doll-like. She wore a simple, white dress, freshly laundered, which made her look cool and inviting. 

"You won't mind? Now that's good of you, and no mistake. " Wade shookhands with her, slowly relinquishing her cool palm. "How is Mrs. Purnell? Better?"

"Oh, yes, I think so. You're better, aren't you, mother?" she asked, asthey entered the cozy little living-room, where the temperature was inpleasant contrast to the outer heat. "The air up here does you good, doesn't it?"

Mrs. Purnell, a dispirited little person, admitted that she felt verywell indeed, and seemed cheered at the sight of Wade, who greeted herdeferentially but with easy geniality. She liked him for hiswholesomeness, and she frequently declared that he was worth all thedoctors in the country because of the impression of health and optimismwhich he bore with him. But she was aware that Dorothy liked him, too, and so presently made an excuse to leave the two young people together. 

"Now, you may tell me all about what's worrying you, " the girl said, seating herself across from Wade. "Something is. You can't keep thesigns from me. "

"Good girl!" His voice held a suggestion of tenderness, as he rolled andlighted a cigarette, in the home-like privilege which they allowed himthere. "That's your way, always. No matter who's in trouble, you areready to hasten to the rescue. "

"Oh--, " she deprecatingly began, with a trace of violet showing in hereyes, which meant a great deal more than words. 

"No wonder every man in the valley considers himself your own, especialknight. "

"I thought perhaps I could help you, " she said briskly, to cover hersentimental moment. "But that was foolish of me, too, wasn't it? Theidea of any one helping _you_. "

"I'm likely to need all my friends soon, Dorothy, " Wade answeredsoberly. "I came in to-day to see Race Moran. There's a big band ofsheep on our upper range, and Jensen, who has charge of them, admittedto me this morning that Moran is behind him. "

"Goodness, more sheep! Wherever do they come from?"

"I don't know where they come from, but they can't stay where they areunless I go out of business, that's certain. " In a few words, heexplained to her the significance of the movement, and told her of histalk with Moran. "I've no use for the man, " he concluded, "and if itcomes to a showdown between us, he need expect no sympathy. I've heldback as long as I can. I understand better than he does what the crackof the first rifle will lead to. "

"You have not liked him since you found that he took that snapshot ofme, " she said whimsically. "I didn't mind, but I can't imagine what hewanted it for. "

Wade's face darkened. 

"It was a confounded impertinence, whatever he wanted with it. But mydislike of him goes farther back than that. "

"What are you going to do?" she asked, resting her chin in her hand, andlooking him straight in the eyes, as she always did to those with whomshe talked. 

"It largely depends on him. Santry--you know how hot-headed he is--wouldrun the herders away by force and kill off the sheep. As a last resort, of course, we may have to do something like that, but I want to win thisfight without open violence if we can. A faction war, in the end, wouldbe likely to ruin us all. "

"You must be careful, " the girl declared earnestly. "Moran is not goingto be an easy man to handle. He seems to have plenty of money, and theysay here in town that he stands in with the government; that he has somesort of 'pull. ' He's clever, I think. He'll trick you if he can. "

"I'm sure of that, Dorothy, but we're not going to let him. If only. .. !Say, do you know something else that is being said in this town?Something that they're saying about me?"

"Something nice?" her tone was archly inquiring. 

He leaned forward and lightly rested his hand on her knee, just as hemight have done with a man friend, and she took as little notice of it. His fingers were trembling a little under the stress of the emotion hefelt. 

"They're saying, those who don't like me, I guess, that I'm afraid ofMoran and his crowd; afraid of a lot of sheep herders. No, of course, myfriends don't believe it, " he hastened to add when she started tointerrupt. "But it's not doing me any good, especially now that publicfeeling is running so high. "

"But you mustn't mind what they say, Gordon. That's part of the courageyour friends know that you have; to do what you feel to be right, nomatter what is said. "

Her cheeks were glowing with indignation, and he appreciatively pattedher hand before sitting erect in his chair again. It was no wonder, hereflected, in that almost womanless land, that many a cowpuncher rodethe range by night, seeing her image in every star. The thought thateach single man, and many a married one, in Crawling Water, would rideinto the Pit itself to win one of her smiles, had been Wade's comfort, even when he was thinking of the possibility of bloodshed between thetwo hostile factions. But now, in the moment of her sympathy for him, hefelt that he could not be content without some further assurance of hersafety. 

"What you say sounds well, Dorothy, but my pride's working on me, too, now. I can't help it. If my friends, who have been good enough to acceptmy leadership so far, should lose their heads and go to it without me, Imight talk afterward until Kingdom come. I'd never convince anybody thatI hadn't funked the thing. You spoke a few minutes ago of helping me. You can help me a great deal. "

Her lovely face instantly blazed with eagerness. 

"Can I? How?"

"By promising me that, if it comes to a fight, you and your mother willcome out to my ranch. You'd be safer there. That is, of course, unlessyou'd prefer to leave Crawling Water altogether. "

"Indeed, I shouldn't prefer to leave Crawling Water at this stage of thegame, and"--she smiled reassuringly--"I'm sure we should be safe enoughright here whatever happened. But, if you'd feel better about it, wewould go to the ranch. "

"Thanks. I feel better about it already, more free to show my hand. Youare safe enough here now, of course, and might be clear through to thefinish; but cheap whiskey has led many a fairly good man astray. "

"If only there were some peaceable way out of it all. " Her eyes becameanxious as she thought of what he might have to face. "Can't youtelegraph to Washington, or something?"

"Washington doesn't know whether Crawling Water is in the United Statesor in Timbuctoo, " Wade laughed. "If we had some one in authority righthere on the ground we might make him understand, but Mahomet will nevercome to these mountains, and they can't go to Mahomet. Why, what's thematter?"

His question was prompted by the sudden elation with which she hadclapped her hands and sprung to her feet. 

"How stupid of me, Gordon, to have forgotten. " She stood over him withshining eyes and eager countenance, as lovely as a Lorelei. "There is anofficial of the United States Government here at this very moment. "

"Here? In Crawling Water?" he exclaimed in amazement. "Who is he?"

"Senator Rexhill, Gordon. " Wade stared almost vacuously at her as sheran on with her news. "He came in with his daughter last night on theSheridan stage. Isn't that glorious? You must go up to see him at once. "

"I will, of course, " Wade said slowly, trying to catch his mentalbalance. "And with pleasure, too. It's been a long time since I last saweither of them. "

"You know them--him?" Dorothy hesitated a little over which pronoun touse, with the somewhat disturbing reflection that Helen Rexhill was amost beautiful and distinguished looking girl. "That will make it allthe easier, " she added generously. 

"Of course, Senator Rexhill has no authority of his own in such amatter, you know; but if we can get him interested, he may wake upWashington in our behalf. Only, I don't see what can have brought him toCrawling Water. "

"Do you--do you know the daughter well?" Dorothy asked, with femininecogency. "I suppose you met her back East?"

"We've known each other for a number of years. " He arose, his faceexpressive of the delight he felt at the Rexhills' presence in town. "Weused to be good friends. You'll like her. But it's strange they didn'ttell me of their coming. You'll pardon me if I hurry over to the hotel, won't you, Dorothy?"

She gently urged him out of the house. 

"Of course! Don't waste a moment, and let me know just as soon as youcan what the outcome is. I do hope the Senator can settle all thistrouble. "

"I want you to meet them right away, " he called, over his shoulder, andwhen he looked back for his answer, she nodded brightly. 

But as she turned back into the cottage after watching him swing up thestreet she was not at all sure that she would like Helen Rexhill. 

CHAPTER V

TREACHERY

Overjoyed at the prospect of a peaceful solution of the problem whichconfronted him, Wade walked rapidly toward the hotel, happy, too, in thethought of meeting Helen Rexhill. 

Whether he loved her with the single-hearted devotion which a man shouldfeel toward his future wife, he was not sure; but he was confident thathe did not love any one else. The idea of love in connection withDorothy had never occurred to him; she was his good friend, nothingmore. To Helen, belonged the romance of his life, fostered in otheryears by the distinct preference she had shown for him. At one time, they had been reported engaged, and although the word had never actuallypassed between them, many things more significant than speech hadcontributed to the warm regard which they felt for each other. BeneathHelen's reputed coldness of heart lay intense feeling, and on numerousoccasions she had verged on unwomanliness in baring her moods to Wade, in a way that many other men would have been quicker to fathom, andperhaps to take advantage of, than he had been. 

Now, the knowledge that she was close at hand, and that he might see herat any moment, caused his heart to beat rapidly. If to others she hadbeen cool, to him she had been ardent, and this warmth had been the onething needful to make her physically captivating. Only when some vitalcause impends is a young man likely to distinguish between the impulsesof his body and the cravings of his soul, and no such vital exigency hadas yet appeared in Wade's life. He wondered if she was as beautiful asever, and began to reproach himself for lack of ardor in his recentletters to her, lest he should now be repaid in kind. He wanted to bereceived upon the old, delicious footing, with her in his arms, and herlips trembling beneath his. 

There were dozens of men in Washington and New York who would almosthave bartered their souls for such privilege, and Gordon Wade need notbe decried for his moment of passionate yearning. He was enough of a manto put the thought aside, pending his interview with the Senator, whichwas his first purpose. He felt sure that if Senator Rexhill could bemoved to interest in Crawling Water affairs, his influence would bepotent enough to secure redress for the cattlemen, and Wade meant topull every string that could bear upon so happy a result. He was gladthat Mrs. Rexhill had not made the journey, for he was conscious of herhostility to him, and he felt that his chances of moving her husbandwere better without her. 

When he inquired at the hotel, he was told that the Rexhills were in, and he presently found himself shaking hands with the Senator, whogreeted him with effusive warmth. 

"Helen is changing her gown and will be in shortly, " the big manexplained. "I'm mighty glad to see you, Gordon. Only this morning wewere talking of looking you up. How are you? Sit down, my boy, sitdown!"

"Senator, " Wade began, after they had exchanged commonplaces for a fewmoments. "Glad as I am to see you, on my own account, I am more thanglad in behalf of my friends, who have not yet had the pleasure ofmeeting you. Your arrival in Crawling Water could not possibly have beenmore opportune. You have come just in time to save us, most likely, froman internecine strife which might have ruined us all. I was more gladthan I can tell you to learn that you were here. "

"Indeed, Gordon? I--I am much interested. Perhaps, you will. .. . "

While Wade succinctly sketched the situation, the Senator nervouslytoyed with his eyeglasses, now and then lifting his double chin from theconfinement of his collar, only to let the mass of flesh settle againinto inertness. He thought rapidly. Evidently, Moran had not divulgedthe fact that he, the Senator, was concerned in the Crawling Waterenterprise. Certainly, Moran had done very well in that, and Rexhillalmost wished now that he had been less precipitate in coming toCrawling Water. If he had stayed in the East, his complicity in theaffair might possibly have been concealed to the very end. He hastilyconsidered the advisability of remaining under cover; but now that hewas on the ground he decided that he had better be open and aboveboard, in so far at least as he could be so. It would prove awkward inthe event of subsequent investigation, if he should be made to appear inthe guise of a deliberate conspirator. 

So, presently, as Wade neared the end of his _résumé_ of the situation, Rexhill permitted an oleaginous smile to overspread his countenance. Atthe last, he even chuckled. 

"It's really a bit amusing. No, no, not what you have said, my boy; butwhat I am about to say to you. You invoke my influence to stopthese--er--depredations, as you call them, and up to a certain point, you shall have my aid, because I seem to see that matters have gone abit beyond bounds. But when you ask me to go to extremes myself, why, I'm bound to tell you that I, too, have interests at stake. Why do yousuppose I came to Crawling Water?"

"I'll admit that puzzled me. "

Rexhill looked keenly at Wade, wondering if he were foolish enough tobelieve the trip a sentimental journey, purely. He concluded that theyoung ranchman had too much sense to jump at such a conclusion. 

"Well, the reason is. .. . " The Senator leaned ponderously forward, twiddling his glasses upon his thumb. "The reason is that I, if youplease, am the moving spirit behind the company which Race Moran isrepresenting here. You see. .. . " He chuckled plethorically again atWade's start of surprise. "It really is a bit amusing. "

"Then Moran is your agent?"

"In a sense, yes. "

"Well, I'll be damned!" The cattleman's tone was rich in disgust, buteven more keen was his intense disappointment at this failure of hishopes. "Would you mind telling me, Senator, just what the purpose ofyour company is?"

"Certainly not. It's no secret, " Rexhill replied briskly. "Certainparties back East, myself included, as I've told you, have reason tobelieve that a railroad will be put through this valley in the nearfuture. This is an extremely rich and productive section, with naturalresources which will make it heard from some day, so we are anxious toobtain a portion of the valley for speculative purposes. If the railroadcomes through we'll probably build a town somewhere nearby and open upan irrigation project we have in mind. If not, we'll use our holdings toraise wheat and livestock. The proposition is a sound investment eitherway you look at it. "

"A few years ago, " said Wade, "I and several others leased upwards oftwenty thousand acres of grass land here in the valley for stock grazingpurposes. I, personally, filed a claim on the land I now call my homeranch. Our lease, which is direct from the Government, gives us entirecontrol of the land so long as we pay for it. 

"Besides ourselves, there are a number of ranches in the valley, all ofthem cattle and horse outfits. There has always been a tacit agreementthat sheep should not be grazed here because sheep and cattle can't liveon the same range in large numbers. Until Moran came here, we had notrouble whatever--the sheep ranchers kept to their own side of themountains and we cattlemen kept to ours. Since Moran has arrived, however, the sheep have crossed the Divide in thousands, until theentire valley is being overrun with them. 

"Only this morning, Moran admitted to me that the sheep men are actingwith his authority and backing. Senator Rexhill, this is wrong, and youragent, or manager, is making a big mistake. Since you are the primemover in this matter, your arrival is even more opportune than I atfirst thought, because you have the power to immediately correct yourhired man's mistake. So far as we cattle ranchers can learn, Moran isbringing sheep in here with the deliberate intention of starving us outof our homes. He seems to want our range and he--I'll not sayyou--thinks that such a course is the cheapest way to gain possession. He'll find it the dearest in the end. Unless the sheep are moved mightysoon, we shall be mixed up in one of the bloodiest little wars in thehistory of the range country. Mark you, I'm no firebrand, --some call metoo conservative; but we have about reached the limit, and something isbound to happen before many days. "

Senator Rexhill drummed with his fingers on the table. 

"Um! Does Moran know of this attitude in you and your friends, Gordon?"

"Yes. I have just finished telling him of it. But he merely laughs atus. We are a long way from the courts here, Senator, and we can't easilyappeal to the authorities. We are obliged to settle our differencesamong ourselves. Moran knows this as well as I do; but he forgets thatthe thing can work two ways. Each day that the sheep are here in thevalley they spoil more grass than all our cattle could eat in a week; intwo months, if the sheep stay, the range will be as bare as a ball-roomfloor. Can you wonder that we ranchers are becoming desperate?"

"It's strange, " Rexhill commented, apparently much perturbed. "Moran isnot the sort to take useless risks. He's dominant, but he's no fool. Well, my boy, I'll talk this over with him; in fact, I really came outhere to see how things were shaping up. If things can be peacefullyarranged, that's the way we want them. We're not looking for trouble. Certainly, you are quite right to object to sheep being run on yourleased pasture. I'll look into it right away and see what can be done. "

"Thank you. " Wade was much relieved and he showed it. "I felt sure thatan appeal to your sense of fair play would not be fruitless. I'm mightyglad you are in town. "

"Gordon!" a girl's voice exclaimed softly behind him. 

"Helen!" He sprang to his feet and turned to seize her hands. 

Those who admired Helen Rexhill at Washington social functions never sawher look more lovely than she did at this moment of meeting with Wade, for the reason that all the skill of the costumer could not beautify herso much as the radiance of love now in her face. The dress she wore wasfar from inexpensive, but it was cut with the art which conceals art, and to Wade it appeared simple. 

Yet his first sensation was one of acute disappointment, which he stroverather ineffectually, to conceal. Doubtless, this was because hisrecollection of her had soared beyond the bounds of human perfection. But the gown, which she had chosen with so keen a wish to impress him, reminded him of the simple frocks which Dorothy Purnell wore, and inHelen Rexhill's face there was not the same sweet simplicity ofexpression which distinguished her rival. Flaming love was there, totransform her from the suggestion of a lily to that of a pomegranate;but it was the love that demands and devours, rather than the constantaffection which, in giving all, seeks nothing but the privilege ofloving in return. Without actually analyzing the impression which Helenmade upon him, Wade felt something of the truth of this, and wasdisappointed in the realization of his dream of her. Materially she wastoo perfect, too exotic, for the setting of Crawling Water. 

"Why, you look just the same, " she happily exclaimed. "And I? Have Ichanged? Now, be careful what you say! You're not a bit of a courtier. "

"Everything changes, doesn't it?" he said, slowly feeling his way. "Except the heart?" His answer pleased her. 

"Will you listen to that, Father? In the cattle country, too. "

"Very pretty, " the Senator observed judicially. "Inspired, perhaps. "

"How long are you going to stay?" asked Wade. 

Helen laughed happily. 

"Perhaps that will depend upon how glad I think you are to have us. "

She gave him an ardent glance, which he was not proof against, nor wouldany other man have been so. 

"No doubt of that. " He laughed with her, his disappointment passingbefore the old love spell, which she knew so well how to cast about him. "You couldn't have come at a better time, either, for now there is someone here who can be company for you. That is, " he added lamely, "whenyou're tired of having me around. "

"Really?" Helen was a bit chilled by this obvious _faux pas_. Truly, despite his worth as a man, Gordon Wade was no courtier. "Who is it?"

"Of course, you haven't heard of her, but you'll like her. She's MissDorothy Purnell. Everybody does like her. "

Helen affected a gayety which she could scarcely have been expected tofeel. Although she was not socially adept in concealing her realfeeling, Wade saw nothing wrong. Only the Senator twisted his mouth in agrim smile. 

"Oh, but I have heard of her; indeed, I have. Mr. Moran sent me a littlephotograph of you both on horseback. Just see how her fame has crossedthe continent. I shall be charmed to meet her. "

A great light dawned upon Wade. 

"Then that was what he wanted with the picture, " he exclaimed. "Wewondered at the time. I thought it pretty impudent of him, but, ofcourse, if he wanted it just to send to you, that was all right. "

Miss Rexhill winced inwardly. In spite of herself, her face expressed acertain amount of pique, for the implication was manifestly that if RaceMoran had wanted the picture for himself, the idea would have beenintolerable to Wade. 

"Oh, yes, quite all right. You seem. .. . " She checked herself, with thereproach upon her tongue, reflecting that, after all, she was most fondof Wade because of his naturalness. Maxwell Frayne, for instance, waswithout a peer in spinning graceful phrases; but he spun little else. 

"But I don't understand why he should send it to you, " Wade said, in alow tone, as the Senator turned to bend over an open traveling bag on anearby chair. "Is he--do you--?" A slight rigor of jealousy seemed toseize upon him, under the witchery of her slow smile. 

"Oh, he's been writing to me, and I suppose he thought I'd beinterested. Of course, I was. " She leaned toward him a trifle, a mereswaying of her body, like a lily in a breeze, and impulsively he placedhis big hand over hers. 

"He'd better not--he'd better mind his own business!" he said grimly. 

She laughed softly, tantalizingly, and being human, Wade kissed her;the Senator being still busy with the contents of the bag. 

Thus engaged, none of them heard a knock at the door, which finallyopened before Moran, who, even if he did not actually see the kiss, could hardly have failed to suspect it from their embarrassed manner. Helen felt sure from his annoyed expression that he had witnessed thecaress, and she was rather glad of it. 

He exchanged a slightly stiff greeting with the rancher, and then whileWade and Helen continued their talk, the agent spoke in a carefullyguarded undertone with his employer. The news he brought, whatever itwas, seemed significant, for the Senator appeared worried and presentlyturned to Wade. 

"You'll not mind if I go over to the office with Moran, Gordon?"

"Certainly not, Senator. Don't let me interrupt you. But what's the useof us staying indoors, Helen? The sun has turned now and it's coolerout. I'll show you something of our little metropolis. Or, I tell youwhat we'll do! Why not let me take you over and introduce you to theonly woman you're likely to find congenial in this neighborhood? She'llbe glad to meet you, I know. "

In any other company, Miss Rexhill would probably have resented aninvitation to call upon a rival, even apart from the ethics of socialcalls, but not before Race Moran. Before him, she would not humble Wadein the least degree, if only because to do so would reflect upon herown preference between the men. She could only pretend to welcome theprospect of going to see Miss Purnell, and she played her part well. 

"We may as well stay here now, " Rexhill said, when the two young peoplehad left the room. "When did all this happen?"

"I just got word of it, " Moran answered, a bit excitedly. "Don't you seehow it plays right into our hands? It's the greatest thing that couldhave happened for us. It might have been made to order. "

"Are you sure it wasn't? Are you sure you didn't have the man shot, Race?" Senator Rexhill's tone was very dry and he watched his companionkeenly as he asked the question. 

Moran assumed an attitude of indignation. 

"Why, Senator. .. !"

"Tush! I want to know where we stand. By God, Race, you mustn't go toofar! We're traveling mighty close to the wind as it is. "

"But these brawls are likely to happen at any time. This one inparticular has been brewing for weeks. Why connect me with it, unnecessarily?"

"All right. I see your point, of course. The assassin is unknown;suspicion naturally falls upon Wade, who is at the head of the cattlefaction and who, as you say, threatened Jensen only this morning. If wecan jail him for awhile his party is likely to fall down. "

"Exactly!" Moran cried eagerly. "Fortune has placed him right in ourhands. "

"Well, I'm not going to have him arrested, " Rexhill announced doggedly, "at least, not on any trumped up charge. He's broken my bread, Helenlikes him. We call him a friend, in fact. I always play square with myfriends--as far as possible. Strategy is strategy, nobody can quarrelwith that; but this thing you propose is something more. "

Moran, while listening, had restrained his impatience with difficulty. He not only had reason on his side, but personal hate as well. His senseof triumph in bringing the news to Rexhill had not been for their mutualcause alone; it had seemed to Moran to point toward the end of hisrivalry with Wade for the love of Helen. To have the fruits of victorysnatched from him, because of a sentiment of friendship, was almost morethan the agent could stand for. 

"Good God, Senator, " he burst out, "don't throw this chance away! Thinkwhat it means to us! We are running close to the wind, and until thismoment, it's been a toss up whether we'd get out of here with our lives;whether I would, at any rate. I've run a mighty big bluff on thesecattle people, but I did it because it was the only way. I've held myown so far, but when they find out that it's not farm land we're after, but ore--why, Senator, there'll be no holding them at all! With Wade attheir head and forty miles between us and the cars, where would we getoff? We'd be lucky if we didn't swing from the limb of a tree. Do yousuppose Wade would remember then that he'd broken your bread? I'll betdollars to doughnuts he wouldn't. 

"But"--his voice sank to a significant whisper--"if we land him injail. .. . "

"His friends here would get him out, " interposed the Senator, nervouslywiping his glasses. 

"Then Uncle Sam would put him in again, with a troop of cavalry to keeporder here, and _that_ would be another advantage gained for our side. No, sir, once we get him in jail, we've got the law with us and againsthim, don't forget that. Then the cattle party would lay mighty low. Wadehas been their leader right along. I tell you, it's the only way, andyou know what it means to us--to you. "

"You don't have to tell me that, " rasped Rexhill. "If we fail to putthis through, I'm a ruined man. "

Moran's eyes gleamed. 

"Well, then, it's the only way, unless--unless. .. . "

"Unless what?"

"Unless your daughter marries him, and it all comes into the family. "Upon that point, Moran wished to know just where he stood. 

"I've never made a dollar through my daughter yet, and I never will, "said the Senator grimly. "I'm not selling my own flesh and blood. I'llrot in the poor-house first. "

Moran gently breathed his relief. He would have fought to the fullestextent of his power to have aborted such a marriage, but if the Senatorhad favored it, he knew that it would have been difficult to prevent. 

"Wade has a foreman he's mighty fond of, an old man named Santry, " theagent remarked, trying another tack. 

"That's a horse of another color. " Rexhill appeared aroused, at last. "Iremember the old fellow. He must be nearly ready for the bone yard bythis time anyhow. Saddle it on him, if you can. Wade's devoted to him. He'd do as much for Santry as for himself, maybe more. "

"I've heard about that kind of devotion, " the agent sneered, "but I'veyet to see a sample of it. "

"Well, you may before long. Your first proposition's no good anyway. Itwould simply further antagonize Wade's friends. It's quite possible, though, that Santry might have been mixed up in such a brawl. Get himarrested, and then we'll let Wade know, gradually, that our influence isat his command, for a price. I've no objection to that--none at all. ByHeaven, we've got to do something. "

"We'll do it all right. I'll have a warrant sworn out. "

"Meanwhile, Race, go easy with those sheep. Wade was telling me aboutthem, and as a matter of strategy, I had to pretend that I would helphim. Move them across the Divide until we see what comes of this Santryaffair. I can't go too heavy with the boy right at the start. "

"All right. " Moran arose. "The sheep don't count much now anyway. "

"I don't mind saying, Race, " Senator Rexhill observed, a triflepompously, "that you've done pretty well so far. If you stick to it, you'll not find me ungrateful when the battle is over. You'll beentitled to your reward. "

Moran hesitated, seeming to summon courage to say something. 

"Maybe you've guessed the reward I'll ask, Senator, " he said slowly. "There are some things that mean more to a man than mere money. I'mthinking of Miss Helen. "

Rexhill found some difficulty in placing his gaze so that it wouldappear to naturally fall elsewhere than on Moran. He was mortified by asense of shame that he could not deal squarely with this aspirant forhis daughter's hand. He had been sincere in saying that he would neverbarter her to further his own interests, but so much hung in the balancehere that until the issue really arose he feared to pass upon it. Hefelt himself stultified by this truth. 

"I haven't spoken to her, Senator, because the time has not come, andjust now she's too much occupied elsewhere, perhaps. But all my hopesare fixed on her, sir, and when the time does come, I trust you'll notoppose them. "

Rexhill coughed to hide what his face might otherwise have shown. 

"Well, Race, " he said, with a choking sensation that was new to him, "you know what I think of you. As for the rest, well, that will dependentirely upon Helen. "

CHAPTER VI

MURDER

"How do you think you'd like to live in Crawling Water?"

Wade looked whimsically at Helen, as she picked her way with the graceof a kitten through the dust of the main street. Carefully though shewalked, her shoes and the bottom of her skirt were covered with dust, and gray with it. 

"I shouldn't like it, " she said, with a little moue. "I don't see whyyou stay here. You aren't going to always, are you?"

"I reckon it's likely. "

"Not--for always?" She had stopped and was looking up into his face withdelicious dismay. "That would be awful. "

"Most of my friends, and all of my business interests are here. Besides, I have a kind of pride in growing up with this country. Back in theEast, things have been settled for so long that a man's only a cog in amachine. Out here, a fellow has a sense of ownership, even in the hills. I think it's because he gets closer to the soil, until he comes to loveit and to be almost a part of it. "

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed the girl. "That sounds fine, but the reality isn'tup to my anticipation of it. "

Wade laughed in his hearty way. 

"That's only because you haven't been here long enough, Helen. "

"There are things that are splendid about the West, " she generouslyadmitted. "Its vastness and wholesomeness, and especially its men. I'msure that's why I first liked you, Gordon, because you were_different_--not like the general run of young men in the East. "

"Oh, there are lots of good men East, too. "

"Not so very many. At least, I have seen very few who were at all worthwhile. There's one, Maxwell Frayne, who has been plaguing me for months;but I don't care for him--much. " She was closely watching him as shespoke, and she smiled when he started. 

"You'd better not. "

"But if I really thought you meant to stay here all the time, I'm sureI'd love him devotedly. Now"--she eyed him mischievously--"I think thiswould be a nice place to call home, don't you know, just for fun, andthen spend most of the time in New York and London. See that man staringat me!"

"How, staring at you?"

Wade turned and looked in the direction she indicated, surprised at thesuggestion that she was being annoyed in Crawling Water, where chivalryto women ran high. 

"Oh, he didn't mean anything, I daresay. "

"They're friends of mine, and curious, perhaps. " He referred to a groupof cattlemen across the street, who did seem to be staring and talking, with some indecision in their attitude. "I wonder if anything can havehappened? Oh, I guess not. Well, what would I do in London?"

"I didn't say anything about _you_ being in London, did I?"

"Well, it's safe to say that where you were, I'd want to be, at anyrate. Haven't I made two trips to Chicago for no real reason except tosee you?" he demanded, fast slipping into the thralldom of herfascination. 

She viewed him through half-closed eyes, knowing that the pose hasalways allured him. 

"Don't you think you'd be kept busy looking after me?" she playfullyasked. "Seriously, I hate an idle man, but I don't know what you'd findto do there. What a question. You'd have to have investments that wouldtake you over every year or two. "

"Now you're trying to make a city man of me, " he said, half in jest. "Besides, "--a dogged note crept into his voice--"I'd have the right toexpect something of you, wouldn't I?"

"Not the right, but the privilege, " she answered softly. 

"This is where the Purnells live. " He turned her into the pathway to thedoor. "This is what I'd like, a neat little home like this, with acouple of kiddies and some dogs. Then I could spend my out-door time atthe ranch. "

Before Helen could reply to this, Mrs. Purnell appeared on the thresholdto welcome them, but to Wade's surprise, she told them that Dorothy wasnot there. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, " said Helen, with intense relief. 

"I don't know where she went either, " the mother went on. "She was outfor a few minutes soon after you left, Gordon. Then she came back andcalled out something to me, but I didn't catch what she said. Before Iknew what she was doing she had saddled her pony and ridden off. Butcome right in. I don't think she'll be gone long. "

They entered and Helen, graciously choosing to overlook the fact thatthis was evidently Wade's second visit there within a very short time, sought to impress him with her tactfulness to Mrs. Purnell. She wouldhave been amazed could she have guessed that she was actually arousinghim to resentment. He felt, somehow, that she was patronizing theirhostess, who was a woman of refinement, even if she lacked theartificiality of manner that Helen affected. He was sincerely glad whenthe visit came to an end. 

"You must come again, " said Mrs. Purnell, in a spirit of friendliness. 

"So glad to have met you, " Helen replied. "I hope to have the pleasureof meeting your daughter, too, before we leave Crawling Water. "

"They're splendid women, both of them, " Wade remarked, as they walkedback toward the center of the town. 

"Oh, yes, " Helen agreed, without much spirit. "Nice, comfortable homepeople, I suppose. "

"Best kind in the world. "

"Gordon!" Helen laughed good-naturedly, facing him as she walked. "Whatin the world has been the matter with you to-day? We usually get on sowell together, and to-day, if I do say it, only my unwillingness toquarrel has kept us from it. "

"Oh, no!" He smiled, too. "Maybe that New York and London businessrubbed me the wrong way; that's all. I have plenty of faults, but I'mloyal to my friends. I don't like even hints that they aren't the bestfriends a man could have. "

"Surely, I haven't. .. . "

"Maybe not. Maybe I imagined it. But Crawling Water is a lot more realthan London, to my way of thinking. "

"You haven't been to London. "

"I'm not likely to go, either, " he retorted. 

Her red lips curled in a way that seemed to indicate that she thought hewould go. Already, she was planning to get him out of Crawling Water andbeyond the influence of Dorothy Purnell. 

As they turned into the main street again, a man leaving a group nearthe livery stable, and mounting a horse, rode toward them. 

"I wonder what's up now?" Wade muttered, recognizing the horseman as oneof the Trowbridge outfit. 

"Mr. Wade. Just a minute. " With the grace of a Centaur, the rider swunghis mount in beside them and doffed his hat. "Two of Jensen's herdershave been shot. I thought you ought to know about it. "

"What?" The ranch owner's jaw dropped at the news. 

"It's true, sir. Word just came in. "

"Thanks, Barker. " Wade pulled himself together, as the restless ponyraced back to the barn. "I must go, Helen, " he went on, turning to thegirl at his side. "There's been fighting--murder, perhaps--out near theranch. Santry will need me. " He was uneasy lest the old plainsman shouldhave been concerned in the shooting. 

"You'll take me to the hotel?"

"Of course, yes! Would you mind walking a little faster?" They quickenedtheir pace. "I'm sorry, Helen; but I must hurry to the ranch. " Even atthat moment he could not but reflect that there would have been no needto take Dorothy home. Somehow, the ways of the East seemed to fit lessand less aptly into the life of Crawling Water. 

On his way to the livery stable after his horse, Wade did some rapidthinking. Santry might have been concerned in the shooting, but hisemployer thought not. The old fellow had promised to stay at home, andhis word was as good as another man's bond. It was too bad, certainly, that the thing should have happened just when Senator Rexhill's promisedaid had seemed in a fair way to settle the controversy. Now, the wholething was more upset than ever, for Moran and Rexhill could hardly beblamed if they backed up their own men, especially if the herders hadbeen blameless, as was probably the case. Yet if the Senator did this, Wade knew that a bloody little war would be the outcome. 

"Where's Trowbridge, Barker?" he asked of the cowpuncher, whom he foundwaiting at the stable. 

"At the ranch, I think. "

Wade nodded. Ten minutes later he was in the saddle and headed for themountains, just as dusk began to fall. The cool night air, blowingagainst his face as he reached the higher levels, was delightfullyrefreshing after the heat of the day. He took off his hat and opened theneck of his shirt to the breeze, which revived his energies like wine. He knew that as he felt, so his horse felt, and he was glad, for theanimal would have to make a fast, hard trip. At the crest of the firsthills, before dipping into the valley, he turned for an instant in hissaddle to look backward over his trail toward the twinkling lights ofCrawling Water in the distance below. 

He had covered some five miles of his journey, to no other sound thanthe occasional note of some bird, when his quick ears caught the thud ofa horse's feet on the trail ahead, with now and then a sharp clatter asthe animal slipped on the stones. Wade slowed his own horse down to awalk, and eased his Colt in its holster. He expected to meet someharmless wayfarer, but, under the circumstances, it was just as well tobe prepared for trouble. Soon, however, he smiled to himself, forwhoever rode toward him made too much noise for any but a peacefulmission. The other horse, too, had been slowed down and the two ridersapproached each other with such caution that the rancher finally becameimpatient and pressed forward recklessly. 

Out of the night the stranger came on, still slowly, until a turn in thetrail brought them face to face. 

"Don't shoot!" said a woman's contralto. "I'm a friend. "

"Dorothy!" Wade ejaculated, at once recognizing the voice, although hecould not see the girl distinctly in the darkness. "In Heaven's name, what are you doing out here?"

"Is it you, Gordon?" In her relief, she laughed softly as she pulled herpony up side of him. "I was a little scared for a second or two. I'veawfully bad news, I'm afraid, " she added, immediately serious. "I'vebeen trying to find you. I went to the hotel and they told me you'd gonesomewhere. "

"Miss Rexhill and I went to call on you. "

"You did? If I'd only known. I've been clear out to the ranch. "

"Is Santry there?" In his anxiety he forgot momentarily the lonelinessof her long ride. "They say some of Jensen's men have been shot up; andI'm anxious to find out what Bill knows. "

"That's just what I want to tell you. I heard of the shooting before Ileft town. Whoa, Gypsy!" She reined up her pony, nervously, for it wouldnot stand still. Wade seized the animal's bridle and quieted it. "Idon't know if he's there or not, " the girl went on. "I couldn't see. Theranch house is full of men. "

"Men? What men?" Wade demanded sharply. 

"Race Moran's crowd. They went out to arrest Santry. The Sheriff is withthem. I heard part of it in town, and that's why I tried to find you. "Wade groaned. "I peeped in at a window, and when I could see neitheryou nor Santry I slipped away without being seen and took the old trailback because it was shorter. "

"Lord, what a mess!" Wade ground his teeth savagely. "Poor old Bill wasall alone there and they must have surprised him. But I don't see whyBarker didn't mention the posse when he told me of the shooting?"

"He didn't know of it, probably. They left town very quietly. I happenedto be out back of the house and I heard one of them talking as they rodeby. "

"Good Lord!" Wade's head drooped. "I told Bill to stay at the ranch, andhe promised me. .. . "

"I don't believe he shot Jensen at all, " Dorothy declared, with spirit. "Yes, it was Jensen himself and one of his herders. Both in theback--killed. "

"Bill Santry never shot any man in the back, " Wade declared, in arelieved tone. "If you're sure of the facts, Santry will come clear allright. "

"It's just a devilish scheme of Moran's, that's all, to put it on youand Santry. I'm sure it is. He hates you both. Whoa, Gypsy!" She reinedthe little mare in again. "No, it's all right, Gordon. I can manageher, " she remonstrated, as he reached for the bridle once more. 

"So that's their game, eh? By Heaven, I more than half believe you'reright. " His face grew ugly with rage. "Dorothy, " he continued grimly, "thanks are useless. You're a brick, that's all. Do one thing more forus, will you?"

"Anything, " she replied simply, her eyes shining with devotion to him, but he was too overwrought to read them in the darkness. 

"When you get back to town get word to some of the men for me. You maymeet them on the way out, if not they'll be around the barn. Tell themto meet me at the big pine, on the old trail. "

His horse had grown restless and now he allowed it to have its head; hewas moving past her when she clutched his arm. 

"Gordon!"

She loved him dearly, too dearly to let him know how well until heshould speak, if he ever did speak; but above them was the starlit skyand over them hovered the wondrous spirit of the Western night. Herpulse was beating, too, to the call of danger, and despite the controlwhich she had over her nerves, she was just a bit hysterical beneath thesurface. She knew that ahead of him was a little army of hostile men, and already that day two men had been killed. So, tremulously, she heldon to his sleeve, until she stopped him. 

"What are you going to do? You can't do anything alone against so many. They may kill you. "

Her sympathy was very sweet to him and he warmly squeezed the littlehand which had held him back. 

"Don't you be afraid, little girl, " he said tenderly. "I shall not gethurt if I can help it. "

"Wait until the others come, won't you?"

"Surely, " he answered readily, touched by the anxiety in her voice. "I'mgoing to look around--just as you did--on the quiet. You wouldn't holdme back, where you went in, now would you?"

"No--!" She smiled a little into his face. 

"That's the stuff! Then I'm coming back to the big pine, and you'll sendthe boys there. They'll not put Santry in jail if we can prevent them. They've played their last card to-night. It's war from now on. "

"All right, Gordon, I'll go. " Her voice was full of courage again; themoment of weakness had passed. "Remember now, take good care ofyourself. "

"You bet, " he retorted cheerily, and as her mare moved ahead, he caughther arm as she had caught his. She went quite limp in her saddle andswayed toward him, but he merely added: "You're a wonder, Dorothy. "

He released her then, and with a wave of her hand she disappeared intothe night. Not until she was beyond recall did he realize that he mighthave kissed her; that she had wanted him to kiss her, for the first timesince they had known each other. He sat in abstraction for severalmoments before he shook the reins in his hand and his horse sprangforward. 

"I've kissed one girl to-day, " he muttered aloud, "and I reckon that'senough. "

CHAPTER VII

THE OLD TRAIL

For another mile Wade followed the main road and then diverged sharplyto the left into what was known as the old, or upper, trail. This hadformerly been the valley road until made dangerous by a wash-out a yearor two previous. In the following spring the wash-out had been partiallyrepaired, but the going was still so rough that the new road waswidened, and had been used by preference ever since. The old trail, however, was nearly four miles the shorter of the two, and was stilltraveled in cases of emergency, although to do so at speed and in thedark was hazardous. 

Wade's promise to Dorothy to take good care of himself had been madewith mental reservation, for, obsessed by his anxiety over Santry, theyoung ranchman was in no mood to spare either himself or his horse. Hisgoing was marked by a constant shower of stones, sometimes behind him, as the wiry cayuse climbed like a mountain goat; but as often in front, as horse and rider coasted perilously down some declivity. The horsesweated and trembled with nervousness, as a frightened child might, butnever refused to attempt what its master demanded of it. One mightalmost say that there existed a human understanding between man andbeast as to the importance of their errand; a common impulse, whichurged them onward. 

When Wade reflected that Dorothy, too, had come over that trail by nightin his interest, he thought her more than ever a wonderful girl. Even toone born and raised in the cattle country, the trip would have beendifficult; but then he realized that Dorothy seemed much like aranch-bred girl in her courage and frank womanliness, nor was she anyless charming on that account. After all, he thought, women paid toohighly for little accomplishments, if to gain them they had to sacrificethe vital points of character. He could not help but contrast Helen'sinsistence that she should be escorted back to the hotel with Dorothy'sbrave ride alone, and while he was too loyal to Helen Rexhill to blameher in this respect, the thing made a deep impression upon him. 

The way was long, and he had time for many thoughts. It was natural, inthe still night, with Dorothy only a little while gone, that he shouldthink tenderly of her, for this cost Santry nothing. For Santry, Wadewas reserving not thought but action. He was making up his mind that ifMoran had taken the foreman into custody on a trumped up charge ofmurder, the agent should feel the power of a greater tribunal than anycourt in the locality--the law of the Strong Arm! Behind him in this, the ranchman knew, was the whole of the cattle faction, and since warhad been thrust upon them he would not stop until the end came, whateverit might be. His conscience was clean, for he had exerted himselfmanfully in the cause of peace, even to the point where his owncharacter had suffered, and now the hour of reprisal was at hand. 

He rode, at last, over the top of the Divide and into the little drawthat led up to the ranch buildings, in the windows of which lightsgleamed. With an imprecation at sight of them, he tied his horse to apost, and, revolver in hand, crept toward the house as quietly as aSioux. 

Except for the light, there was no sign of life about the place, andWade craftily advanced into the deeper shadows close to the wall of thehouse. Taking off his hat, so that the crown might not betray him, hepeeped through a window. What he saw made him clinch his fingers andgrit his teeth in rage. 

Inside were half a dozen men, besides three of his own ranch hands wholay trussed up like turkeys in one corner of the room; doubtless theyhad been surprised by the posse before they had opportunity to run orput up a fight. Moran was there, stretched comfortably on Wade's owncot, smoking a cigar. Once, he looked directly toward the window atwhich the watcher had placed himself, but the latter did not move. Instead, he fingered his gun and waited; he was not sure that he reallywanted to avoid detection; if it came, Moran would pay, and the rest, atthe moment, did not seem to matter. He had forgotten Dorothy entirely. 

But Santry was not there and this fact puzzled Wade. The Sheriff was notthere either, and presently it occurred to the cattleman that a part ofthe posse, with Santry, might have returned to Crawling Water over themain trail. Probably Moran, with the rest, was waiting for him. Themere thought of Santry already on his way to jail filled Wade with abaffling sense of rage, and creeping from the house, he examined thesurrounding turf by the faint rays of the moon. It was badly cut up bythe feet of many horses, and several minutes passed before Wade wasreally sure that a number of mounted men had taken the trail back totown. Satisfied of this at length, he untied his horse and swung intothe saddle. 

Before riding away he considered the advisability of driving off thehorses belonging to Moran's party, but there would still be others inthe corral, and besides their absence, when discovered, would givewarning of the impending attack. On second thought, however, he quietlymade his way to the corral and caught a fresh horse of his own. When hehad saddled it he set out over the old trail for the big pine. 

When he reached the rendezvous his men were not there; but knowing thathe must meet them if he followed the road from there on he did not stop. He came upon them in a few minutes, riding toward him at full speed, with Tim Sullivan in the van, too drunk to stand erect, but able tobalance himself on a horse's back, drunk or sober. 

"We come acrost Santry and the Sheriff a while back, " explained Big BobLawson, one of Wade's own punchers. "They must be in town by now. We wasaimin' to light into 'em, but Santry wouldn't hear of it. Course, wetook our orders from him same as usual. He said to tell you that youwanted him to keep quiet, an' that's what he aimed to do. "

"He said we wasn't to tell you that he didn't shoot them Swedes, " put inanother of the men. 

"What?" Wade demanded sharply. 

"He said--hic!" broke in Tim Sullivan, with drunken gravity. "Hesaid--hic!--that if you didn't know that without--hic!--bein' told, youwasn't no friend of his'n, an'--hic!--you could go to hell. "

"Shut up, you drunken fool!" Lawson snapped out. 

"Jensen and his herder were shot in the back, they say. That clearsSantry, " Wade declared, and sat for some moments in deep thought, whilethe men waited as patiently as they could. "Lawson, " he said, at last. "You're in charge for the present. Take the boys to the big pine andcamp there quietly until I come back. I'm going into town. "

"Hadn't you better take us with you, boss? We'll stick. We're for youan' Bill Santry an' ag'in' these--sheepherders, whenever you say theword. "

"That's--hic--what we are!" Sullivan hiccoughed. 

Wade shook his head. 

"No. You wait for me at the pine. You'll have to rustle your grub thebest way you can. I may not get back until to-morrow--until thisevening--it's morning now. But wait until I come. There will be plentyfor you to do later on and there is no use of you going back to townwith me. It might get you into worse trouble than you're headed foralready, and what I've got to do, I can do alone. "

Wheeling his horse, he rode off toward Crawling Water. 

That he could take his men with him, storm the jail and release Santry, Wade did not doubt, but to do so would be to bring each of the men intoopen conflict with the law, a responsibility which he was resolved tobear alone. Then, too, because his long ride had cooled him somewhat, heintended to make one more appeal to the Senator. Possibly, Moran hadexceeded his instructions, and if this were so, it was no more than justthat Rexhill, who had seemed to evince a willingness to be helpful, should have the opportunity to disown the act of his agent. Besides, ifSantry could be peaceably released, he would be freed of the chargehanging over him, which would not be the case if he were taken from thejail by strategy or violence. 

 * * * * *

With haggard countenance and inflamed eyes, Wade bore little resemblanceto his normal self when he again appeared before the Senator, whoreceived him in his dressing-gown, being just out of bed. Rexhilllistened with a show of sympathy to the cattleman's story, but evidentlyhe was in a different mood from the day before. 

"My boy, your friendship for your foreman is leading you astray. Yourfaith in him, which is natural and does you credit, is blinding you toan impartial view of the case. Why not let the law take its course? IfSantry is innocent his trial will prove it. At any rate, what can I do?"

"Senator--" Wade spoke with intense weariness. "Only yesterday youoffered to help us. The situation, as I explained it then, is unchangednow, except for the worse. Bill Santry is free of any complicity inJensen's death. I am positive of it. He sent me word that he had notleft the ranch, and he would not lie to save himself from hanging. Besides, the men were shot in the back, and that is absolute proof thatSantry didn't do it. "

"Mere sentiment, Gordon; mere sentiment. Proof? Pooh!"

Rexhill's slightly contemptuous tone worked upon Wade in his exhausted, overwrought condition, and stung him. A strange look of cunning appearedin his eyes, as he leaned across the table which separated them. 

"Senator, Moran made me an offer the other day for my land. If--I acceptthat offer, will you exert your influence in Santry's behalf?"

Coming so swiftly upon his planning, the prospect of such signal successwas so gratifying to Rexhill that only in halting speech could hemaintain a show of decorous restraint. His countenance expressedexultant relief, as well it might, since he seemed to see himselfsnatched out of the jaws of ruin. 

"Why, Gordon, I--Of course, my boy, if you were to show such a generousspirit as that, I--er--should feel bound. .. . " The sense of his remarkswas lost in the crash of Wade's fist upon the table. 

"Damn you!" The cattleman was beyond himself with fatigue, rage, and arankling sense of injustice. "They told me that was your game. Ibelieved it of Moran, but I thought you were square. So you're thatsort, too, eh? Well, may you rot in hell before you get my land, yourobber! Now listen to me. " He waved his hand in the direction of thestreet. "Out there's a hundred men--real men--who're waiting the word torun you out of this country, you and Moran, too, and by God we'll doit--we'll do it--and we'll begin right away!" Again his heavy fistcrashed down on the table "Never mind Bill Santry"--the instinct ofdiscretion was gaining in Wade. --"He can stay where he is for thepresent. First, we'll attend to you pirates--then we'll see. "

He stopped suddenly at sight of Helen, who attracted by the noise, hadentered the room, and stood before him in a filmy negligee. 

"What is the matter, Gordon?" she demanded anxiously. 

"I beg your pardon. " Wade spoke awkwardly, unashamed of himself, exceptfor her. "I'm worn out and I--I lost my temper. "

"Will you--er--leave this room!" The Senator was beginning to pullhimself together. It was the first time he had ever been ragged in sucha way, and his composure had suffered; he spoke now with more than hisusual pomposity. 

"I will, " Wade answered curtly, as he turned on his heel and departed. 

The Senator, puffing slightly, fiddled with his glasses. 

"Your young friend has seen fit to accuse me of--of--" For the life ofhim, he could not at once say of just what he had been accused, unlesshe allowed self-accusation to prompt his words. "Some sheepherders havebeen murdered, I believe, " he went on, "and Wade seems to think thatMoran and I are implicated. "

"You!" his daughter exclaimed; evidently her amazement did not extend toMoran. 

"Preposterous nonsense!"

"Yes, of course. " Helen walked to the window and stood looking down intothe street. "I'm afraid Gordon hasn't improved since we saw him last, "she added, finally. "He seems quite a different person from the man Iused to know. What are you going to do about it?"

"Crush him!" The Senator's lips set in a thin, white line, as his handdescended on the table on the spot where Wade's fist had fallen. "This, apparently, is his gratitude to me for my interest in him. Now I intendto show him the other side of me. "

"Certainly, no one could blame you for punishing him. Oh, everythingbetween him and me is quite over, " said the girl, with a peculiar smile. "He's a perfect bear. "

"I'm glad you feel that way about it, Helen. " Her father's set lipsrelaxed into a responsive smile. "You couldn't be my daughter and nothave some sense. "

"Have I any?" Helen naïvely asked. 

She was gazing out of the window again, and to her mind's eye the dusty, squalid street became a broad highway, with jewelers' shops on eitherside, and _modistes_, and other such charming things, just as they arefound in New York, or--Paris!

CHAPTER VIII

HIGHER THAN STATUTE LAW

Wade descended the stairs of the hotel and went into the barroom, fumingwith rage and chagrin because Helen had seen him in such a temper. Likemost men of action, he took pride in his self-control, which seldomfailed him, but the villainy of the Senator's attitude had momentarilymastered his patience. 

Gathered about the bar were a number of men whom he knew, but beyond anod here and there he took no notice of them, and went to sit down aloneat a small table in the corner. His friends respected his desire to beleft alone, although several eyed him curiously and exchangedsignificant remarks at his appearance. They seemed to be of the opinionthat, at last, his fighting blood had been aroused, and now and thenthey shot approving glances in his direction. 

"Whiskey, " Wade called to the bartender, and a bottle and glass wereplaced on the table in front of him. 

With a steady hand the ranchman poured out and quickly swallowed twostiff drinks of the fiery liquor, although he was not ordinarily adrinking man. The fact that he drank now showed his mental state moreclearly than words could have expressed it. Searching in his pockets, hefound tobacco and papers and rolled and lighted a cigarette. Nothingcould be done for Santry until night, and meanwhile he intended to getsomething to eat and take the sleep that he needed to fit himself forthe task ahead of him. He ordered a steak, which on top of the whiskeyput new life into him. 

The more he thought of his outburst of temper before Helen the more itannoyed him, for he realized that he had "bitten off a bigger wad thanhe could chew, " as Bill Santry would have expressed it. Rascal thoughthe Senator was, so far as he was concerned, Wade felt that his handswere tied on Helen's account. For her sake, he could not move againsther father in a country where the average man thought of consequencesafter the act rather than before it. In a sense Wade felt that he stoodsponsor for Crawling Water in the hospitality which it offered Helen, and he could not bring peril down on her head. 

But as for Moran and his hirelings, that was a different matter! Whenthe ranchman thought of Moran, no vengeance seemed too dire to fit hismisdeeds. In that direction he would go to the limit, and he only hopedthat he might get his hands on Moran in the mix-up. He still looked uponhis final visit to Rexhill as a weakness, but it had been undertakensolely on Santry's account. It had failed, and no one now could expecttolerance of him except Helen. If the posse was still at the ranch, whenhe and Santry returned there at the head of their men, they would attackin force, and shoot to kill if necessary. 

He learned from Lem Trowbridge, who presently joined him at the table, that the posse would probably still be there, for the report in townwas that Moran had taken possession of the property and meant to staythere. 

"He does, eh?" Wade muttered grimly. "Well, he may, but it will be withhis toes up. I'm done, Lem. By Heaven, it's more than flesh and bloodcan stand!"

"It sure is! We're with you, Gordon. Your men were over at my place afew hours ago. We grubbed them and loaned them all the guns we couldspare. I sent over my new Winchester and a belt of shells for you. "

"Thanks. "

"That's all right. You're more than welcome to all the help I can giveyou, not only against Moran and his gang, but against Rexhill. If youlike, we'll run him out of town while you're putting the fear of Godinto Moran. Lord! I sure would like to go back to the ranch with you, but it's your own quarrel and I won't butt in. "

Wade briefly explained his attitude toward the Rexhills and added thattheir cause would not be helped by violence toward the Senator, who wasa big man at Washington, and might stir the authorities into action onhis behalf if he could prove personal abuse. The noise that would bemade by such a happening might drown out the justice of the cattlemen'sclaim. 

"Well, that's true, too, " Trowbridge admitted. "I can see the point allright. What we want to do is to get something 'on' the Senator. I meansomething sure--something like this Jensen shooting. "

Wade nodded slowly. 

"That's the idea, but I'm afraid we can't do it, Lem. I haven't a doubtbut that Moran is mixed up in the killing, but I hardly believe Rexhillis. Anyhow, they've probably covered their tracks so well that we'llnever be able to connect them with it. "

"Oh, I don't know. You can't always tell what time'll bring to light. "Trowbridge lowered his voice. "What's your idea about Santry? Do youwant help there?"

"No. " Wade spoke with equal caution. "I believe I can manage all rightalone. The Sheriff will probably be looking for us to rush the jail, buthe won't expect me to come alone. Bat Lewis goes on duty as the relief, about nine o'clock. I mean to beat him to it, and if the Sheriff opensup for me I'll be away with Santry before Bat appears. But I must getsome sleep, Lem. "

The two men arose. 

"Well, good luck to you, Gordon. " Trowbridge slapped his friend on theshoulder, and they separated. 

"Frank, can you let me have a bed?" Wade asked of the hotel proprietor, a freckled Irishman. 

"Sure; as many as you want. "

"One will do, Frank; and another thing, " the ranchman said guardedly. "I'll need an extra horse to-night, and I don't want to be seen with himuntil I need him. Can you have him tied behind the school-house a littlebefore nine o'clock?"

"You bet I can!" The Irishman slowly dropped an eyelid, for theschool-house was close by the jail. 

Wade tumbled into the bed provided for him and slept like a log, havingthat happy faculty of the healthy man, of being able to sleep when hisbody needed it, no matter what impended against the hour of awakening. 

When he did wake up, the afternoon was well advanced, and after anotherhearty meal he walked over to the Purnells' to pass the time until itwas late enough for him to get to work. 

"Now, Gordon will tell you I'm right, " Mrs. Purnell proclaimedtriumphantly, when the young man entered the cottage. "I want Dorothy togo with me to call on Miss Rexhill, and she doesn't want to go. Theidea! When Miss Rexhill was nice enough to call on us first. "

Mrs. Purnell set much store upon her manners, as the little Michigantown where she was born understood good breeding, and she had not beenat all annoyed by Helen Rexhill's patronage, which had so displeasedWade. To her mind the Rexhills were very great people, and great peoplewere to be expected to bear themselves in lofty fashion. Dorothy hadinherited her democracy from her father and not from her mother, who, indeed, would have been disappointed if Helen Rexhill appeared any lessthan the exalted personage she imagined herself to be. 

"Oh, I'd like to meet her well enough, only. .. . " Dorothy stopped, unwilling to say before Wade that she did not consider the Rexhillssufficiently good friends of his, in the light of recent developments, for them to be friends of hers. 

"Of course, go, " he broke in heartily. "She's not responsible for whather father does in the way of business, and I reckon she'd think itfunny if you didn't call. "

"There now!" Mrs. Purnell exclaimed triumphantly. 

"All right, I'll go. " In her heart Dorothy was curious to meet the otherwoman and gauge her powers of attraction. "We'll go to-morrow, mother. "

Quite satisfied, Mrs. Purnell made some excuse to leave them together, as she usually did, for her mother heart had traveled farther along theRoad to To-morrow than her daughter's fancy. She secretly hoped that theyoung cattleman would some day declare his love for Dorothy and ask forher hand in marriage. 

In reply to the girl's anxious questions Wade told her of what hadhappened since their meeting on the trail, as they sat together on theporch of the little cottage. She was wearing a plain dress of greengingham, which, somehow, suggested to him the freshness of lettuce. Shelaughed a little when he told her of that and called him foolish, thoughthe smile that showed a dimple in her chin belied her words. 

"Then the posse is still at the ranch?" she asked. 

"I think so. If they are, we are going to run them off to-morrowmorning, or perhaps to-night. I've had enough of this nonsense and Imean to meet Moran halfway from now on. "

"Yes, I suppose you must, " she admitted reluctantly. "But do be careful, Gordon. "

"As careful as I can be under the circumstances, " he said cheerfully, and told her that his chief purpose in coming to see her was to thankher again for the service she had rendered him. 

"Oh, you don't need to thank me for that. Do you know"--she puckered upher brows in a reflective way--"I've been thinking. It seems verystrange to me that Senator Rexhill and Moran should be willing to go tosuch lengths merely to get hold of this land as a speculation. Doesn'tit seem so to you?"

"Yes, it does, but that must be their reason. "

"I'm not so sure of that, Gordon. There must be something more behindall this. That's what I have been thinking about. You remember that whenMoran first came here he had an office just across the street from hispresent one?"

"Yes. Simon Barsdale had Moran's present office until he moved toSheridan. You were his stenographer for a while, I remember. " Wadelooked at her curiously, wondering what she was driving at. 

"Moran bought Mr. Barsdale's safe. " Her voice sounded strange andunnatural. "I know the old combination. I wonder if it has beenchanged?"

"Lem Trowbridge was saying only this morning, " said Wade thoughtfully, for he was beginning to catch her meaning, "that if we could only getproof of something crooked we might. .. . "

"Well, I think we can, " Dorothy interrupted. 

They looked searchingly at each other in the gathering dusk, and hetried to read the light in her eyes, and being strangely affectedhimself by their close proximity, he misinterpreted it. He slipped hishand over hers and once more the desire to kiss her seized him. He letgo of her hand and was just putting his arm around her shoulders when, to his surprise, she appeared suddenly indignant. 

"Don't!"

He was abashed, and for a moment neither said a word. 

"What is the combination?" he finally asked hoarsely. 

"I promised Mr. Barsdale never to tell any one. " Her lips wreathed intoa little smile. "I'll do it myself. "

"No, you won't. " Wade shook his head positively. "Do you suppose I'mgoing to let you steal for me? It will be bad enough to do it myself;but necessity knows no law. Well, we'll let it go for the present then. Don't you think of doing it, Dorothy. Will you promise me?"

"I never promise, " she said, smiling again, and ignoring her last wordsin womanly fashion, "but if you don't want me to. .. . "

"Well, I don't, " he declared firmly. "Let it rest at that. We'llprobably find some other way anyhow. "

She asked him then about Santry, but he evaded a direct answer beyondexpressing the conviction that everything would end all right. Theytalked for a while of commonplaces, although nothing that he said seemedcommonplace to her and nothing that she said seemed so to him. When itwas fully dark he arose to go. Then she seemed a little sorry that shehad not let him put his arm around her, and she leaned toward him asshe had done on the trail; but he was not well versed in woman'ssubtleties, and he failed to guess her thoughts and walked away, leavingher, as Shakespeare put it, to

 "Twice desire, ere it be day, That which with scorn she put away. "

Having mounted his horse at the livery stable, he first made sure thatthe extra horse was behind the school-house, where he tied his own, andthen walked around to the jail. On the outside, this building was asubstantial log structure; within, it was divided into the Sheriff'soffice and sleeping room, the "bull pen, " and a single narrow cell, inwhich Wade guessed that Santry would be locked. After examining hisrevolver, he slipped it into the side pocket of his coat and walkedboldly up to the jail. Then, whistling merrily, for Bat Lewis, thedeputy, was a confirmed human song-bird, he knocked sharply on the doorwith his knuckles. 

"It's me--Bat, " he called out, mimicking Lewis' voice, in answer to aquestion from within. 

"You're early to-night. What's struck you?" Sheriff Thomas opened thedoor, and turning, left it so, for the "relief" to enter. He had halffeared that an attempt might be made to liberate Santry, but had neverdreamed that any one would try the thing alone. He was glad to berelieved, for a poker game at which he wanted to sit in would soon startat the Gulch Saloon. 

He was the most surprised man in Wyoming, when he felt the cold muzzleof Wade's Colt boring into the nape of his neck and heard the ranchman'sstern warning to keep quiet or take the consequences. Sheriff Thomas hadearned his right to his "star" by more than one exhibition of nerve, buthe was too familiar with gun ethics to argue with the business end of a"45. "

"Not a sound!" Outwardly cold as ice, but inwardly afire, Wade shovedthe weapon against his victim's neck and marched him to the middle ofthe room. "I've got the upper hand, Sheriff, and I intend to keep it. "

"You're a damn fool, Wade. " The Sheriff spoke without visible emotionand in a low tone. "You'll go up for this. Don't you realize that. .. . "

"Can it!" snapped Wade, deftly disarming the officer with his free hand. "Never mind the majesty of the law and all that rot. I thought that allover before I came. Now that I've got you and drawn your teeth, you'lltake orders from me. Get my foreman out of that cell and be quick aboutit!"

There was nothing to do but obey, which Thomas quietly did, althoughsomewhat in fear of what Santry might do when at liberty. When the celldoor was unlocked, the old plainsman, in a towering rage at theinjustice of his incarceration, seemed inclined to choke his erstwhilejailer. 

"None of that, Bill, " Wade admonished curtly. "He's only been a tool inthis business, although he ought to know better. We'll tie him up andgag him; that's all. Rip up one of those blankets. "

"I knew you'd come, boy!" The foreman's joy was almost like that of abig dog at sight of his master. "By the great horned toad, I knew it!"With his sinewy hands he tore the blanket into strips as easily asthough the wool had been paper. "Now for him, drat him!"

Wade stood guard while the helpless Sheriff was trussed up and his mouthstopped by Santry, and if the ranch owner felt any compunction at thesight, he had only to think of his own men as he had seen them the nightbefore, lying on the floor of the ranch house. 

"Make a good job of it, Bill, " was his only comment. 

"You bet!" Santry chuckled as he drew the last of the knots tight. "That'll hold him for a spell, I reckon. How you feel, Sheruff, purtycomfortable?" The flowing end of the gag so hid the officer's featuresthat he could express himself only with his eyes, which he battedfuriously. "Course, " Santry went on, in mock solicitude, "if I'd thoughtI mighta put a bit of sugar on that there gag, to remind you of yourmammy like, but it ain't no great matter. You can put a double dose inyour cawfee when you git loose. "

"Come on, Bill!" Wade commanded. 

"So long, Sheruff, " Santry chuckled. 

There was no time to waste in loitering, for at any moment Bat Lewismight arrive and give an alarm which would summon reënforcements fromamongst Moran's following. Hurrying Santry ahead of him, Wade swung openthe door and they looked out cautiously. No one was in sight, and acouple of minutes later the two men were mounted and on their way out oftown. 

"By the great horned toad!" Santry exulted, as they left the lights ofCrawling Water behind them. "It sure feels good to be out of that thereboardin'-house. It wasn't our fault, Gordon, and say, about this hereshootin'. .. . "

"I know all about that, Bill, " Wade interposed. "The boys told me. They're waiting for us at the big pine. But your arrest, that's what Iwant to hear about. "

"Well, it was this-a-way, " the old man explained. "They sneaked up onthe house in the dark and got the drop on us. Right here I rise toremark that never no more will I separate myself from my six-shooter. More'n one good man has got hisself killed just because his gun wasn'twhere it oughter be when he needed it. Of course, we put up the bestscrap we could, but we didn't have no chance, Gordon. The first thing Iknew, while I was tusslin' with one feller, somebody fetched me a rap onthe head with a pistol-butt, an' I went down for the count. Any of theboys shot up?"

Wade described the appearance of the ranch house on the previous night, and Santry swore right manfully. 

"What's on the cards now?" he demanded. "How much longer are we goin' tostand for. .. . "

"No longer, " Wade declared crisply. "That's why the boys are waiting forus at the pine. We're going to run Moran and his gang off the ranch assoon as we can get there, and then we're going to run them out of thecountry. "

"Whoop-e-e-e-e-e!" The old plainsman's yell of exultation split thenight like the yelp of a coyote, and he brought his hand down on Wade'sback with a force which made the latter wince. "By the great hornedtoad, that's talkin! That's the finest news I've heard since my oldmammy said to the parson, 'Call him Bill, for short. ' Whoop-e-e-e-e!"

Wade's warning to keep still was lost on the wind, for Santry stuck hisspurs into his horse's flanks and charged along the trail like anold-time knight. With a grim smile his employer put on speed andfollowed him. 

CHAPTER IX

THE BATTLE AT THE RANCH

When Wade and Santry approached the big pine, the waiting men came outfrom its shadow and rode forward, with the borrowed rifles across theirsaddle horns. 

"All right, boys?" the rancher asked, taking Trowbridge's new rifle, abeautiful weapon, which Lawson handed to him. 

"All right, sir, " answered Tim Sullivan, adding the "sir" in extenuationof his befuddled condition the night before, while each man gave Santrya silent hand-shake to welcome him home. 

Grimly, silently, then, save for the dashing of their horses' hoofsagainst the loose stones, and an occasional muttered imprecation as arider lurched in his saddle, the seven men rode rapidly toward themountains. In numbers, their party was about evenly matched with theenemy, and Wade meant that the advantage of surprise, if possible, should rest with him in order to offset such advantage as Moran mightfind in the shelter of the house. But, however that might be, each manrealized that the die had been cast and that the fight, once begun, would go to a finish. 

"I only hope, " Santry remarked, as a steep grade forced them to lessentheir speed, "I can get my two hands on that cussed tin-horn, Moran. Him and me has a misunderstandin' to settle, for sure. "

"You leave him to me, Bill. " Wade spoke vindictively. "He's my meat. "

"Well, since you ask it, I'll try, boy. But there's goin' to be somefightin' sure as taxes, and when I get to fightin', I'm liable to goplumb, hog wild. Say, I hope you don't get into no trouble over thishere jail business o' mine. That 'ud make me feel bad, Gordon. "

"We'll not worry about that now, Bill. "

"That's right. Don't worry till you have to, and then shoot instead. That's been my motto all my born days, and it ain't such durn badphilosophy at that. I wonder"--the old man chuckled to himself--"Iwonder if the Sheruff et up most of that there gag before Bat let himloose?"

Wade laughed out loud, and as though in response, an owl hootedsomewhere in the timber to their right. 

"There's a durned old hoot owl, " growled Santry. "I never like to hearthem things--they most always mean bad luck. "

He rode to the head of the little column, and the rest of the way to theranch was passed in ominous silence. When they finally arrived at theedge of the clearing and cautiously dismounted, everything seemed fromthe exterior, at least, just as it should be. The night being far gone, the lights were out, and there was no sign of life about the place. Wadewondered if the posse had gone. 

"There ain't no use in speculatin', " declared Santry. "They may beasleep, and they may be layin' for us there in the dark. This will takea rise out of 'em anyhow. "

At sight of the old fellow, pistol in hand, Wade called to him to wait, but as he spoke Santry fired two quick shots into the air. 

There was an immediate commotion in the ranch house. A man inside washeard to curse loudly, while another showed his face for an instantwhere the moonlight fell across a window. He hastily ducked out ofsight, however, when a rifle bullet splintered the glass just above hishead. Presently a gun cracked inside the house and a splash on a rockbehind the attackers told them where the shot had struck. 

"Whoop-e-e-e-e!" Santry yelled, discharging the four remaining shots inhis revolver at the window. "We've got 'em guessin'. They don't know howmany we are. "

"They were probably asleep, " said Wade a bit sharply. "We might havesneaked in and captured the whole crowd without firing a shot. That'swhat I meant to do before you cut loose. "

Santry shook his grizzled head as he loaded his revolver. 

"Well, now, that would have been just a mite risky, boy. The way thingsstand we've still got the advantage, an'. .. . " He broke off to take asnapshot at a man who showed himself at the window for an instant in aneffort to get a glimpse of the attacking force. "One!" muttered the oldplainsman to himself. 

By this time Wade had thrown himself down on his stomach behind abowlder to Santry's left and was shooting methodically at the door ofthe house, directly in front of him. He knew that door. It was built ofinch lumber and was so located that a bullet, after passing through it, would rake the interior of the cabin from end to end. The only way theinmates could keep out of the line of his fire was by hugging the wallson either side, where they would be partially exposed to the leaden hailwhich Santry and the punchers were directing at the windows. 

There was a grim, baleful look on the young man's usually pleasant face, and his eyes held a pitiless gleam. He was shooting straight, shootingto kill, and taking a fierce delight in the act. The blood lust was uponhim, that primal, instinctive desire for combat in a righteous causethat lies hidden at the very bottom of every strong man's nature. Andthere came to his mind no possible question of the righteous nature ofhis cause. He was fighting to regain possession of his own home from themarauders who had invaded it. His enemies had crowded him to the wall, and now they were paying the penalty. Wade worked the lever of hisWinchester as though he had no other business in life. A streak ofyellow clay mingled with a bloody trickle from a bullet scratch on hischeek gave his set features a fairly ferocious expression. 

Santry, glancing toward him, chuckled again, but without mirth. "Theboy's woke up at last, " he muttered to himself. "They've drove him toit, durn 'em. I knew almighty well that this law an' order stuntcouldn't last forever. Wow!"

The latter exclamation was caused by a bullet which ricocheted from arock near his head, driving a quantity of fine particles into his face. 

"Whoop-e-e-e-e!" he howled a moment later. "We got 'em goin'. It's acinch they can't stand this pace for more'n a week. "

Indeed, it was a marvel that the defenders kept on fighting as long asthey did. Already the door, beneath Wade's machine-like shooting, hadbeen completely riddled; the windows were almost bare of glass; andgreat splinters of wood had been torn from the log walls by the heavyrifle bullets on their way through to the interior. Soon the door saggedand crashed inward, and into the gaping hole thus made Wade continued toempty his rifle. 

At last, the fire of those within slackened and temporarily ceased. Didthis mean surrender? Wade asked himself and ordered his men to stopshooting and await developments. For some moments all was still, and theadvisability of rushing the house was being discussed when all at oncethe fire of the defenders began again. This time, however, there wassomething very odd about it. There was a loud banging of explodingcartridges, but only a few shots whistled around the heads of thecattlemen. Nevertheless, Wade told his men to resume shooting, and oncemore settled down to his own task. 

"What'n hell they tryin' to do?" Santry demanded. "Sounds like a Fourtho' July barbecue to me. "

"I don't know, " Wade answered, charging the magazine of his rifle, "butwhatever it is they'll have to stop mighty soon. "

Then gradually, but none the less certainly, the fire from withinslackened until all was still. This seemed more like a visitation ofdeath, and again Wade ordered his men to stop shooting. They obeyedorders and lay still, keenly watching the house. 

"Do you surrender?" Wade shouted; but there was no reply. 

Santry sprang to his feet. 

"By the great horned toad!" he cried. "I'm a-goin' in there! Anybodythat wants to come along is welcome. "

Not a man in the party would be dared in that way, so, taking advantageof such cover as offered, they advanced upon the cabin, stealthily atfirst and then more rapidly, as they met with no resistance--no signwhatever of life. A final rush carried them through the doorway into thehouse, where they expected to find a shambles. 

Wade struck a light, and faced about with a start as a low groan camefrom a corner of the back room. A man lay at full length on the floor, tied hand and foot, and gagged. It was Ed Nelson, one of the DoubleArrow hands who had been surprised and captured by the posse, and alittle farther away in the shadow against the wall his two companionslay in a like condition. With his knife Wade was cutting them loose, and glancing about in a puzzled search for the wounded men he expectedto find in the house, when Santry shouted something from the kitchen. 

"What is it, Bill?" the ranch owner demanded. 

Santry tramped back into the room, laughing in a shamefaced sort of way. 

"They done us, Gordon!" he burst out. "By the great horned toad, theydone us! They chucked a bunch of shells into the hot cook-stove, an'sneaked out the side door while we was shootin' into the front room. Bycracky, that beats. .. . "

"That's what they did, " spoke up Nelson, as well as his cramped tonguewould permit, being now freed of the gag. "They gagged us first, so's wecouldn't sing out; then they filled up the stove an' beat it. "

What had promised to be a tragedy had proved a fiasco, and Wade smiled alittle foolishly. 

"The joke's on us, I guess, boys, " he admitted. "But we've got the ranchback, at any rate. How are you feeling, Ed, pretty stiff and sore?"

"My Gawd, yes--awful!"

"Me, too, " declared Tom Parrish, the second of the victims; and thethird man swore roundly that he would not regain the full use of hislegs before Christmas. 

"Well, you're lucky at that, " was Santry's dry comment. "All that savedyou from gettin' shot up some in the fight was layin' low down in thatcorner where you was. " He let his eyes travel around the littered, blood-spattered room. "From the looks o' this shebang we musta stungsome of 'em pretty deep; but nobody was killed, I reckon. I hope Moranwas the worst hurt, durn him!"

"He'll keep, " Wade said grimly. "We've not done with him yet, Bill. We've only just begun. "

CHAPTER X

THE SENATOR GETS BUSY

It was daylight when the routed posse, with Race Moran in the lead, hisleft arm tied up in a blood-stained handkerchief, rode into CrawlingWater. A bullet had pierced the fleshy part of the agent's wrist, atrifling wound, but one which gave him more pain than he might havesuffered from a serious injury. None of the members of the posse hadbeen dangerously wounded; indeed, they had suffered more in the spiritthan in the flesh; but there had been a number of minor casualtiesamongst the men, which made a sufficiently bloody display to arouse thelittle town to active curiosity. 

Under instructions from the leader, however, the fugitives keptgrouchily silent, so that curiosity was able to feed only onspeculations as to Wade's temper, and the fact that he had brought aboutSantry's release from jail. The story of that achievement had beenbruited about Crawling Water since midnight, together with theprobability that the Law would be invoked to punish the ranchman for hisdefiance of it. Popular sentiment was running high over the likelihoodof such a step being taken, and the members of the posse were thetargets of many hostile glances from the townspeople. At leasttwo-thirds of the citizens were strongly in favor of Wade, but beforethey took active steps in his behalf they waited for the return of ahorseman, who had hurried out to the ranch to learn at first handexactly what had happened there. 

Meanwhile Moran, in an ugly mood, had awakened the Senator from thetroubled sleep which had come to him after much wakeful tossing. Rexhill, with tousled hair, wrapped in a bathrobe, from the bottom ofwhich his bare ankles and slippered feet protruded, sat on the edge ofhis bed, impatiently chewing an unlighted cigar while he listened toMoran's account of the fracas. 

"You went too far, Race, --you went too far, " he burst out angrily atlast. "You had no orders to jump the ranch. I told you. .. . "

"We've been fooling around long enough, Senator, " Moran interruptedsullenly, nursing his throbbing wrist. "It was high time somebodystarted something, and when I saw my chance I seized it. You seem tothink"--his voice trailed into scorn--"that we are playing marbles withboys, but, I tell you, it's men we're up against. My experience hasshown me that it's the first blow that counts in any fight. "

"Well, who got in the hardest lick, eh?" Rexhill snorted sarcastically. "The first blow's all right, provided the second isn't a knockout fromthe other side. Why, confound it, Race, here we had Wade at our mercy. He'd broken into jail and set free a suspected murderer--a clear case ofcriminality. Then you had to spoil it all. "

Moran smothered an imprecation. 

"You seem to forget, Senator, that we had him at our mercy before, andyou wouldn't hear of it. If you'd taken my advice in the first place, we'd have had Wade in jail instead of Santry and things might have beendifferent. "

"Your advice was worthless under the circumstances; that's why I didn'ttake it. " Rexhill deliberately paused and lighted his cigar, from whichhe took several soothing puffs. To have been aroused from his bed withsuch news had flustered him somewhat; but he had never known anythingworth while to come out of a heated discussion, and he sought now tocalm himself. Finally, he spoke slowly. "What you proposed to me thenwas a frame-up, and all frame-ups are dangerous, particularly when theyhave little to rest upon. For that reason I refused to fall in with yourideas, Race. This release of Santry from jail is--or was--an entirelydifferent thing, an overt criminal act, with Sheriff Thomas on our sideas an unimpeachable witness. "

Moran was suffering too keenly from his wound and smarting under hisdefeat too much to be altogether reasonable. His manner was fast losingthe appearance of respect which he had previously shown his employer. His expression was becoming heated and contemptuous. 

"You didn't base your refusal on logic at the time, Senator, " he said. "It was sentiment, if I remember right. Wade had broken bread with you, and all that. I don't see but what that applies just as well now as itdid then. "

"It doesn't, " the Senator argued smugly, still rankling from Wade'sarraignment of him the day before, "because even hospitality has itslimits of obligation. So long as I knew Wade to be innocent, I did notcare to have him arrested; but I don't admit any sentiment ofhospitality which compels me to save a _known_ criminal from the hand ofjustice. Sheriff Thomas came in to see me last night and I agreed withhim that Wade should be brought to account for his contempt of the law. Wade forced his way into the jail and released his foreman at the pointof a gun. Even so, I feel sorry for Wade and I am a little apprehensiveof the consequences that will probably develop from his foolhardiness. "

"Well, by God, if there's any sympathy for him floating around thisroom, it all belongs to you, Senator. " Moran tenderly fingered hisaching wrist. "I'm not one of these 'turn the other cheek' guys; you cangamble on that!"

"But now where are we?" Rexhill ignored the other's remarks entirely. "We are but little better off than Wade is. He pulled Santry out ofjail, and we tried to steal his ranch. The only difference is that sofar he has succeeded, and we have failed. He has as much law on his sidenow as we have on ours. "

Moran's head drooped a little before the force of this argument, although he was chiefly impressed by the fact that he had failed. Hisfailures had been few, because Fortune had smiled upon him in the past;and doubtless for this reason he was the less able to treat failurephilosophically. His plans at the ranch house had gone awry. He hadcounted on meeting Wade there in the daytime, in the open, and uponprovoking him, before witnesses, into some hot-headed act which wouldjustify a battle. The surprise attack had left the agent without thisexcuse for the hostilities which had occurred. 

Rexhill arose and walked up and down the room in thought, his slipperedfeet shuffling over the floor, showing now and then a glimpse of hisfat, hairy legs as the skirt of his bathrobe fluttered about. A cloud offragrant smoke from his cigar trailed him as he walked, and from the wayhe chewed on the tobacco his _confrères_ in the Senate could haveguessed that he was leading up to one of his Czar-like pronouncements. Presently he stopped moving and twisted the cigar in his mouth so thatits fumes would be out of his eyes, as his glance focused on Moran. 

"There's just one way out of this mess, Race, " he began. "Now heed whatI say to you. I'm going to send a telegram to the Department of theInterior which will bring a troop of cavalry down here from FortMackenzie. You must go slow from now on, and let the authorities settlethe whole matter. "

The agent sat up alertly, as his employer, wagging a ponderousforefinger impressively, proceeded. 

"You were not on the ranch for the purpose of jumping it at all. Mindthat now! You and I stand for the majesty of the law in this lawlesscommunity. " Moran's eyes began to twinkle at this, but he said nothing. "When you and Sheriff Thomas went out to the ranch, you carried twowarrants with you, one for Santry, as the accessory, and one for Wade, as the principal, in the Jensen shooting. Yes, yes, I know what you aregoing to say; but I must save my own bacon now. Since Wade has provedhimself to be a lawbreaker, I'm not going to protect him. "

"Now, you're talking!" exclaimed Moran, delighted at the prospect ofwhat such a course would start going. 

"I'll have the matter of the warrants fixed up with Thomas, " the Senatorcontinued. "Now, follow me carefully. Thomas arrested Santry at theranch, and then left you, as his deputy, to serve the other warrant onWade when he came home. It was because of his knowledge of what was instore for him that Wade, after getting Santry out of jail, attacked youand your men, and it was in defense of the law that you returned theirfire. It will all work out very smoothly, I think, and any furtherhostilities will come from the other side and be to our greatadvantage. "

Moran looked at his employer in admiration, as the latter concluded andturned toward his writing table. 

"Senator, " the agent declared, as Rexhill took up his fountain pen andbegan to write on a telegraph form, "you never should have started inDenver. If you'd been born in little old New York, you'd be in the WhiteHouse now. From this minute on you and I are going to carry this wholevalley in our vest-pockets. "

"You take this over and put it on the wire right away, Race. It's to theSecretary of the Interior and my signature on it should get immediateattention. " Senator Rexhill handed over the telegraph form he hadfilled out. 

"But what about State rights in this business?" Moran asked, anxiously. "Will they send Government troops in here on your say so?"

The Senator waved his hand in dismissal of the objection. 

"I'll have Thomas wire the Governor that the situation is beyondcontrol. This town is miles from nowhere, and there's no militia withineasy reach. The State will be glad enough to be saved the expense, especially with the soldiers close by at Fort Mackenzie. Besides, youknow, although Wade's ranch is inside the State, a good deal of his landis Government land, or was until he filed on it. "

When Moran had left the room in a much easier frame of mind than he cameinto it, the Senator sat down heavily on the bed. He was puffing at hiscigar and thinking intently, when he caught sight of the white, startledface of his daughter in the mirror of the bureau across the room. Whirling about, he found her standing in the doorway looking at him. Rexhill had never before been physically conscious of the fact that hehad a spine, but in that moment of discovery a chill crept up and downhis back, for her expression told him that she had heard a good deal ofhis conversation with Moran. The most precious thing to him in life wasthe respect of his child; more precious even, he knew, than thefinancial security for which he fought; and in her eyes now he saw thathe was face to face with a greater battle than any he had ever waged. 

"Father!"

"What, are you awake, my dear?"

He tried hard to make his tone cheery and natural, as he stood up andwrapped the bathrobe more closely around him. 

"I heard what you said to Race Moran. "

Helen came into the room, with only a dressing wrapper thrown over herthin night-dress, and dropped into a chair. She seemed to feel that herstatement of the fact was accusation enough in itself, and waited forhim to answer. 

"You shouldn't have listened, Helen. Moran and I were discussing privatebusiness matters, and I thought that you were asleep. It was notproper. .. . "

Her lips, which usually framed a smile for him, curled disdainfully andhe winced in spite of himself. He avoided the keen appraisement of hergaze, which seemed now to size him up, as though to probe his mostsecret thoughts, whereas before she had always accepted him lovingly onfaith. 

"Certainly, they were not matters that you would want an outsider tohear, " she said, in a hard voice, "but I am very glad that _I_ listened, father. Glad"--her voice broke a little--"even though I shall never beable to think of you again as I. .. . "

He went to her and put his heavy hands on her shoulders, which shrankunder his touch. 

"Now, don't say things that you'll regret, Helen. You're the only girlI have, and I'm the only father you have, so we ought to make the bestof each other, oughtn't we, eh? You're prone to hasty judgments. Don'tlet them run away with you now. "

"Don't touch me!" He made way for her as she got to her feet. "Father, "--she tremblingly faced him, leaning for support against acorner of the bureau, --"I _heard_ all that you said to Mr. Moran. Idon't want you to tell me what we've been to each other. Don't I knowthat? Haven't I felt it?"

The Senator swallowed hard, touched to the quick at the sight of hersuffering. 

"You want me to explain it--more fully?"

"If you can. Can you?" Her lips twitched spasmodically. "I want you totell me something that will let me continue to believe that youare--that you are--Oh, you know what I want to say. " Rexhill blushed adeep purple, despite his efforts at self-control. "But what can you say, father; what _can_ you say, after what I've heard?"

"You mean as regards young Wade? You know, I told you last night abouthis attack on the Sheriff. You know, too"--the blush faded as theSenator caught his stride again--"that I said I meant to crush him. Youeven agreed with me that he should be taught a lesson. "

"But you should fight fairly, " Helen retorted, with a quick breath ofaggression. "Do you believe that he killed Jensen? Of course you don't. The mere idea of such a thing is absurd. "

"Perhaps he planned it. "

"Father!" The scorn in her tone stung him like a whip-lash. "Did he planthe warrants, too? The warrant that hasn't been issued yet, although youare going to swear that it was issued yesterday. Did he plan that?"

Once in his political career, the Senator had faced an apparent_impasse_ and had wormed out of it through tolerant laughter. He hadlaughed so long and so genially that the very naturalness of hisartifice had won the day for him. Men thought that if he had had aguilty conscience, he could not have seemed so carefree. He tried thesame trick now with his daughter; but it was a frightful attempt and hegave it up when he saw its ill-success. 

"See here, Helen, " he burst out, "it is ridiculous that you shouldarraign me in this way. It is true that no warrant was out yesterday forWade, but it is also true that the Sheriff intended to issue one, and itwas only through my influence that the warrant was not issued. Sincethen Wade, besides insulting me, has proved himself a lawbreaker. I havenothing to do with the consequences of his actions, which rest entirelywith him. You have overheard something that you were not intended tohear, and as is usually the case, have drawn wrong conclusions. The bestthing you can do now is to try to forget what you have heard and leavethe matter in my hands, where it belongs. "

He had spoken dominantly and expected her to yield to his will. He wastotally unprepared, well as he knew her spirit, for what followed. 

She faced him with glowing eyes and her trembling lips straightened intoa thin, firm line of determination. He was her father, and she hadalways loved him for what she had felt to be his worth; she had givenhim the chance to explain, and he had not availed himself of it; he wascontent to remain convicted in her eyes, or else, which was more likely, he could not clear himself. She realized now that, despite what she hadsaid in pique, only the night before, she really loved Wade, and he, atleast, had done nothing, except free a friend, who, like himself, wasunjustly accused. She could not condemn him for that, any more than shecould forget her father's duplicity. 

"I won't forget it!" she cried. "If necessary, I will go to Gordon andtell him what you've done. I'll tell it to every one in Crawling Water, if you force me to. I don't want to because, just think what that wouldmean to you! But you shall not sacrifice Gordon. Yes, I mean it--I'llsacrifice you first!"

"Don't talk so loud, " the Senator warned her anxiously, going a littlewhite. "Don't be a fool, Helen. Why, it was only a few hours ago thatyou said Wade should be punished. "

She laughed hysterically. 

"That was only because I wanted to get him away from this awful littletown. I thought that if he were--punished--a little, if he was made alaughing stock, he might be ashamed, and not want to stay here. Now, Isee that I was wrong. I don't blame him for fighting with every weaponhe can find. I hope he wins!"

Rexhill, who had been really frightened at her hysterical threat ofexposure, and assailed by it in his pride as well, felt his fear beginto leave him and his confidence in himself return. In the next minute ortwo, he thought rapidly and to considerable purpose. In the past he hadresolutely refused to use his child in any way to further his own ends, but the present occasion was an emergency, and major surgery is oftendemanded in a crisis. If she were willing, as she said, to sacrificehim, he felt that he might properly make use of her and her moods tosave himself and her as well. He realized that if she were to shoutabroad through Crawling Water the conversation that had passed betweenhim and Moran, the likelihood of either of the two men getting out ofthe county alive would be extremely remote. 

"So that was it, eh? And I complimented you upon your good sense!" Hislaugh was less of an effort now. "Well, doesn't it hold good now as wellas it did then? Come, my dear, sit down and we'll thresh this outquietly. "

She shook her head stubbornly, but the woman in her responded to the newnote of confidence in his voice, and she waited eagerly for what he hadto say, hopeful that he might still clear himself. 

"You tell me that I must fight fair. Well, I usually do fight that way. I'm doing so now. When I spoke yesterday of crushing Wade, I meant itand I still mean it. But there are limits to what I want to see happento him; for one thing, I don't want to see him hung for this Jensenmurder, even if he's guilty. "

"You know he isn't guilty. "

"I think he isn't. " Her eyes lighted up at this admission. "But he mustbe tried for the crime, there's no dodging that. The jury will decidethe point; we can't. But even if he should be convicted, I shouldn'twant to see him hung. Why, we've been good friends, all of us. I--I likehim, even though he did jump on to me yesterday. That was why"--heleaned forward, impelled to the falsehood that hung upon his tongue bythe desperate necessity of saving himself his daughter's love andrespect--"I arranged with Moran to have the boy arrested on such awarrant. He is bound to be arrested"--Rexhill struck the table with hisfist--"and if he should need a basis for an appeal after conviction, hecould hardly have a better one than the evidence of conspiracy, which acrooked warrant would afford. I wanted to give him that chance because Irealized that he had enemies here and that his trial might not be a fairone. When the right moment came I was going to have that warrant lookedinto. "

"Father!"

Helen dropped on her knees before him, her eyelashes moist with tearsand her voice vibrant with happiness. 

"Why didn't you explain all that before, Father? I knew that there mustbe _some_ explanation. I felt that I couldn't have loved you all mylife for nothing. But do you really believe that any jury would convictGordon of such a thing?"

"I hope not. "

Never had Senator Rexhill felt himself more hopelessly a scoundrel thannow as he smoothed her hair from her forehead; but he told himself thatthe pain of this must be less than to be engulfed in bankruptcy, orexposure, which would submerge them all. Moreover, he promised himselfthat if future events bore too heavily against Wade, he should be savedat the eleventh hour. The thought of this made the Senator's positionless hard. 

"I hope not, Helen, " he repeated. "Of course, the serving of the warrantat this time will help my own interests, but since a warrant must beserved, anyway, I feel justified, under the circumstances, in availingmyself of this advantage. "

"Y-e-s, of course, " Helen agreed doubtfully. "Oh, it is all too bad. Iwish none of us had ever heard of Crawling Water. "

"Well, maybe the Grand Jury will not indict him, feeling runs so stronghere, " her father continued, and she took fresh hope at this prospect. "But, anyway, he will feel the pressure before all is done with, andvery likely he'll be only too glad to dispose of his ranch and saygood-by to Wyoming when he is free to do as he pleases. Then you and hecan make a fresh start, eh? All will be sunshine and roses then, maybe, forever and aye. "

"That's what I want to do--get away from here; and that was all I meantwhen I said to punish Gordon. "

The Senator patted her cheek tenderly and drew a deep breath of relief. 

"By the way, father, " Helen said casually, when she started back to herroom, a little later, "I saw Miss Purnell on the street yesterday. Youknow, she was out when Gordon took me to see her. "

"Well, is she dangerous?"

Helen looked at him in amusement, and shrugged her shoulders. 

CHAPTER XI

TANGLED THREADS

Relieved though Helen was to some extent, by her father's assurances andby the explanation which he had given, she was far from being in atranquil frame of mind. 

She knew that whatever might be the outcome of the graver charge againstGordon, he would probably have to suffer for his release of Santry, andshe found herself wishing more than ever that her lover had never seenthe West. What little it had contributed to his character was not worthwhat it had cost already and would cost in the future. Surely, hismanhood was alive enough not to have needed the development of such anenvironment, and if his lot had been cast in the East, she could havehad him always with her. A long letter, which she had recently receivedfrom Maxwell Frayne, recounting the gayeties of New York and Washington, made her homesick. Although she could scarcely think of the two men atthe same moment, still, as she sat in the crude little hotel, she wouldhave welcomed a little of young Frayne's company for the sake ofcontrast. She was yearning for the flesh-pots of her own Egypt. 

From the news of the fight at the ranch, which had been brought to townby the messenger, she gathered that Wade meant to intrench himself onthe ranch and defy the law, which would probably embroil him in othercriminal acts. Crawling Water, too, was rapidly filling up with armedcattlemen, who, she thought, would do Gordon's cause more harm thangood. Toward afternoon, word came of a bloody skirmish on the Trowbridgerange, between a number of his punchers and some of Moran's hired men, and that added to the tension among those crowding the main street. 

From the parlor windows of the hotel she watched what was going onoutside, not without alarm, so high did feeling seem to run. The threatsof the ranch men, handed about amongst themselves but loud enough forher to catch a word now and then, made her wonder if the town was reallysafe for her father, or for herself. A storm was coming up, and therising wind whipped the flimsy lace curtains of the windows and keptthem fluttering like flags. The distant muttering of the thunder and anoccasional sharp flash of lightning wore on her tired nerves until shecould sit still no longer. 

For the sake of something to do, she went up to her room, intending towrite some letters there, but her bed had not been made up, so shereturned to the parlor with her fountain pen and writing-pad. To MaxwellFrayne she wrote a brief note, which was not likely to cheer him much. She had become so in the habit of taking her moods out on Maxwell thatto do so, even with a pen, was second nature to her. She despised himfor his tolerance of her tyranny, never realizing that he reserved tohimself the privilege of squaring their account, if she should everbecome his wife. 

Then to ease her mind of the strain it bore, she wrote at some length toher mother; not telling the whole truth but enough of it to calm her ownnervousness. She said nothing of the conversation she had overheard, butwent fully into the scene between her father and Gordon Wade. With alittle smile hovering on her lips, she wrote dramatically of theSenator's threat to crush the ranchman. "That will please mother, " shesaid to herself, as her pen raced over the paper. "Gordon felt, you see, that"--she turned a page--"father knew Santry had not killed Jensen, and. .. . "

The hotel-keeper poked his head in at the doorway. 

"Two ladies to see you, Miss, " he announced. "Mrs. Purnell anddaughter. "

He gave Helen no chance to avoid the visit, for with the obviousness ofthe plains, he had brought the visitors upstairs with him, and so, blotting what she had written and weighing down her letter against thebreeze, she arose to greet them. 

"This is good of you, Mrs. Purnell, and I am so glad to meet yourdaughter. I've been lonely and blue all day and now you have taken pityon me. "

Mrs. Purnell shot an "I told you so" glance at Dorothy, which made thatyoung lady smile to herself. 

"I was sorry not to have been at home when you called, Miss Rexhill. "

The two girls looked at each other, each carefully veiling hostility, Dorothy beneath a natural sweetness of disposition, and Helen with the_savoir faire_ of social experience. Each felt and was stung by arealization of the other's points of advantage. Dorothy saw a perfectionof well-groomed poise, such as she could hardly hope to attain, andHelen was impressed with her rival's grace and natural beauty. 

"Won't you sit down?"

"But aren't we disturbing you?" Mrs. Purnell asked, with a glance towardthe writing materials. 

"Indeed, you are not. I was writing some duty letters to kill time. I'monly too glad to stop because I'm really in no writing mood and I ammost anxious to hear what is going on outside. Isn't it dreadful aboutMr. Wade?"

"You mean his helping Santry?" Dorothy asked, with a little touch ofpride which did not escape her hostess. 

"Partly that; but more because he is sure to be arrested himself. I'vebeen terribly worried. "

Dorothy glanced at her keenly and smiled. 

"I have an idea that they may find Gordon hard to arrest, " she remarked. 

"Yes, " Mrs. Purnell put in. "He is so popular. Still, I agree with youthat there is every cause for anxiety. " The good lady did not have achance every day to agree with the daughter of a United States Senator, and the opportunity was not to be overlooked. 

"The people feel so strongly that Santry should never have been arrestedthat they are not likely to let Gordon be taken just for freeing him, "Dorothy explained. 

Helen shook her head with every indication of tremulous worry. 

"But it isn't that alone, " she insisted. "He's to be arrested for theJensen shooting. That was why the posse waited at his ranch after Santryhad been caught. "

"For the Jensen shooting?" Dorothy showed her amazement very plainly. "Are you sure?" she demanded, and when Helen nodded, exclaimed: "Why, how utterly absurd! I understood that you were with him yourself when hereceived word of it?"

"I was, " Helen admitted. "He is supposed only to have planned the crime, I believe. He's supposed to have been the principal, isn't that whatthey call it?" She appealed to Mrs. Purnell. 

"Oh, but do you think he could do such a thing?" Mrs. Purnell asked, much shocked. 

"I don't know. I hope not. "

"I _do_ know!" Dorothy burst out emphatically. "I know Gordon Wade toowell to think for one minute that he did it; and every true friend ofhis ought to speak out at once and say the same thing. "

The challenge in her voice was unmistakable, and Mrs. Purnell moveduneasily in her chair. She glanced anxiously at Helen and was relievedto see that the latter had lost none of her poise. 

"I hope so as fully as you do, " Helen said sweetly, "but things move sofast here in these mountains that I find it hard to keep up with them. "

"Of course, " Mrs. Purnell soothed, with a troubled look at her daughter. 

"Who swore out the warrant, I wonder?" Dorothy asked, in a more tranquiltone, a bit ashamed of her outburst. "Was it Mr. Moran?"

"I'm sure I don't know, " Helen answered. "I supposed it was the Sheriff. Why should Mr. Moran have anything to do with it?"

"Because he seems to have been concerned in all the trouble we havehad, " Dorothy replied calmly. "This was a peaceful little communityuntil Mr. Moran moved into it. "

Helen made no direct reply to this, and for awhile Dorothy allowed hermother to sustain the conversation. She had no doubt but that Moran wasback of it all, and she was thinking of what Lem Trowbridge had said;that if they could only "get something on" Moran and the Senator, asolution of the whole problem would be at hand. She thought that she haddetected a defensive note in Helen's voice, and she was wondering why itshould have been there. 

"But you haven't answered my question yet about Mr. Moran, " Helenpresently challenged her. "You seemed to have something more in mindthan what you said. Would you mind telling me?"

Dorothy looked steadily but not offensively at her. 

"Oh, it's nothing, Miss Rexhill. I was only thinking that he has gonerather far: been very zealous in your father's interests. Probably. .. . "

"Why, Dorothy--!" her mother interposed, in a shocked tone. 

"Miss Rexhill asked me, mother, and you know that I always speakfrankly. "

"Yes, do go on, " Helen urged, with even an added touch of sweetness inher manner. "I really want to know. I am so out of touch with thingshere, so ill informed. "

"Well, you can sit here at the windows and learn all you wish to know. There isn't a man in this town that would see Gordon arrested and notfight to free him. Feeling is running high here now. You know, it'ssomething like a violin string. You can stretch it just so far and thenit snaps. That's all. "

"Dorothy, I'm really mortified that you. .. . "

"Oh, you've no occasion to be, Mrs. Purnell, " Helen interrupted, smiling. "I asked for the plain truth, you know. "

Mrs. Purnell laughed feebly. 

"Dorothy has known Mr. Wade so long and we both like him so well thatshe can't bear to hear a word against him, " she explained. Her sense of_lèse majesté_ was running away with her judgment, and Dorothy shot anirritated glance at her. "Not that I think he did it at all, youunderstand; but. .. . "

"Oh, perfectly, " declared Helen, with rising color and an equal feelingof annoyance. "Oh, dear me, do look at my poor letters!"

A gust of wind, stronger than any that had come before, had swept theweight to the floor and scattered letter paper, envelopes, and blotterabout the room. Helen was just able to catch the writing-pad as it slidto the floor, while Dorothy and her mother laughingly salvaged therest. The incident happily relieved the awkward drift of theirconversation, and they all felt relieved. 

"Well, now, did you ever?" Mrs. Purnell ejaculated, looking at thelithographed blotter, which she held in her hand. "I declare thispicture of a little girl reminds me of Dorothy when she was that age. "

"Oh, mother!"

"Really?" Helen broke in. "How interesting. I hadn't noticed thepicture. Do let me see. "

To be courteous, she agreed with Mrs. Purnell that there was a stronglikeness, which Dorothy laughingly denied. 

"I guess I know what you looked like when you were five better than youdo, " Mrs. Purnell declared. "It's the image of you as you were then, andas Miss Rexhill says, there is a facial resemblance even yet. "

"Perhaps you would like to take it with you, then, " Helen suggested, toMrs. Purnell's delight, who explained that the only picture she had ofDorothy at that age had been lost. 

"If it wouldn't deprive you?"

"No, indeed. You must take it. I have a large blotter in my writing-pad, so I really don't need that one at all. So many such things are sent tofather that we always have more than we can use up. "

When Dorothy and her mother left the hotel, urged homeward by the firstbig drops of the coming rain, Mrs. Purnell tucked the blotter in thebosom of her dress, happy to have the suggestion of the picture torecall the days when her husband's presence cheered them all. Her worldhad been a small one, and little things like this helped to make itbright. 

Soon afterward the supper bell rang, and during the meal Helen told theSenator, who seemed somewhat morose and preoccupied, of the visit shehad had. 

"Sure tiresome people. Goodness! I was glad to see them at first becauseI thought they would help me to pass the afternoon, but instead I wasbored to death. That little minx is crazy about Gordon, though. I couldsee that. "

"Um!"

"And the worst of it is that she just fits into the scenery here, and Idon't. You know, father, I never could wax enthusiastic over shooing thecows to roost and things like that. "

"Um!"

"I feel like a deaf person at a concert, here in this town. "

This remark brought a wry laugh from her father, and Helen smiled. 

"Well, I've made you laugh, anyway, " she said. "You're frightfullygrouchy this evening. "

"My dear, I'm busy, very busy, and I haven't time to think of trifles. I'll be at it most of the night. "

"Oh, shall you? Goodness, that's cheerful. I wish I had never come tothis awful little place. I suppose I must go back to my letters forsomething to do. And, father, " she added, as he lingered with her for amoment in the hallway, "the Purnells seem to think that you and Mr. Moran had better not go too far. The people here are very much wroughtup. "

He patted her shoulder affectionately. 

"You leave all that to me and go write to your mother. "

There was nothing else for her to do, so she returned to the parlor. When she had finished her letters, she idly picked up a week-old copy ofa Denver newspaper which lay on the table and glanced through theheadlines. She was yawningly thinking of bed, when Moran came into theroom. 

"Oh, are you and father through at last?"

"Yes, " he answered, smiling. "That is, we're through upstairs. I'm on myway over to the office to straighten up a few loose ends before I turnin. There's no rest for the weary, you know. "

"Don't let me keep you, then, " she said dryly, as he lingered. "I'mgoing to bed. "

"You're not keeping me. I'm keeping myself. " He quite understood hermotive, but he was not thin-skinned, and he had learned that he had tomake his opportunities with her. "Your father told me you were gettinganxious. "

"Not anxious, tired. "

"Things are getting a little warm here, but before there's any realdanger we expect to have the soldiers here to take charge. "

He rather ostentatiously displayed his bandaged wrist, hoping to win hersympathy, but she professed none. Instead, she yawned and tapped herlips with her fingers, and her indifference piqued him. 

"I was talking with Dorothy Purnell this afternoon, " Helen finallyremarked, eyeing him lazily, "and she seems to be of the opinion thatyou'll have hard work arresting Gordon Wade. I rather hope that you do. "

"Well--" He teetered a little on his feet and stroked his mustache. "Wemay have, at that. Miss Purnell is popular and she can make a lot oftrouble for us if she wants to. Being very fond of Wade, she's likely todo all that she can. "

"Would she really have so much influence?" Helen asked, carefullyguarding her tongue. 

He laughed softly as though amused at the thought. 

"Influence? Evidently you don't realize what a good looking girl meansin a frontier town like this. She's part sister, part mother, sweetheartand a breath from Heaven to every man in Crawling Water. On thataccount, with one exception, I've had to import every last one of mymen. The exception is Tug Bailey, who's beyond hope where women areconcerned. To all the rest, Dorothy Purnell is 'Wade's girl, ' and theywouldn't fight against her, or him, for all the money in Wyoming. "

He was watching her keenly as he spoke, and was gratified to see spotsof color spring to her cheeks. 

"How interesting!" Helen could make her tone indifferent to the point oflanguor, but she could not keep the gleam of jealousy out of her eyes. "Gordon is a fortunate man to have such an able ally, isn't he?"

"The finish will decide that, I should say, " Moran replied sneeringly. "She may stir up more trouble than all her friends can take care of. "

For all of her social schooling, Helen was not proof against the sneerin his words, even though she fully saw through his purpose to woundher. She felt her temper rising, and with it came curiosity to learn howfar the relationship between Wade and Dorothy Purnell had really gone. That Moran would exaggerate it, she felt sure, for he had his own endsto gain, but possibly from out of his exaggeration she could glean sometruth. Yet she did not want to go so far in her anger as to gratify hismalice, and this placed her in something of a dilemma. 

"I don't believe that she is 'Wade's girl, ' as you call her, at all, "she said coldly. "They may be good friends, and if so, I'm glad; butthey are nothing more than that. There is no 'understanding' betweenthem. "

Moran carelessly waved his hand in the direction of the rain-sweptstreet, illuminated now and then by the lightning. 

"Ask any one in Crawling Water. "

"That sounds well, but it's impracticable, even if I wanted to do it. Iprefer to draw my own conclusions. "

The agent drew up a chair with his well hand, and sat down with thateasy familiarity that came so natural to him. Helen watched him, lazilyimpertinent. 

"I've been wanting to have a talk with you, Helen, " he began, "and thislooks like a good chance to me. You've been foolish about Wade. Yes, Iknow that you're thinking that I've got my own ends to further, which istrue enough. I have. I admit it. But what I am going to tell you istrue, also. Fortune's been playing into my hand here lately. Now, ifyou'll be reasonable, you'll probably be happier. Shall I go on?"

"Wild horses couldn't stop you, " she answered, amused that he seemedflattered. "But if we were in Washington, I fancy I'd have you shownout. "

"We're not in Washington, my dear girl. " He wagged his finger at her, inthe way her father had, to give emphasis to his words. "That's whereyou've made your mistake with Wade. We're all just plain men and womenout here in the cattle country, and I'm talking its language, not thelanguage of drawing-rooms. " He was himself a little surprised at theswift dilation of her pupils, but his words had probed deeper than heknew, reminding her as they did of the truth which she had so fullyrealized that afternoon. "Wade liked you--loved you, maybe, in Chicago, but this ain't the East. He cares nothing for you here, and he'd neverbe happy away from here. You know that picture of yourself that you sentto him?" She nodded. "Well, we found it on the floor of his room, covered with dust. He hadn't even troubled to pick it up from where itmust have fallen weeks ago. "

She looked at him dumbly, unable to keep her lips from twitching. Heknew that she believed him, and he was glad; that she had to believehim, because his story bore the impress of truth. It was not somethingthat he could have made up. 

"And while your picture was lying there, Wade and this Purnell girl weremaking goo-goo eyes at each other. Why, it was she that rode out to warnhim that we were after Santry. " Helen's lips curled. "I can't swear tothat, but I heard it and I believe it myself. They must've met on thetrail somewhere in the dark, and you can bet he was grateful. I don'timagine that they stopped at a hand-shake. I imagine they kissed, don'tyou?"

"Oh, I'm tired, worn out, " Helen declared, forcing a smile so artificialthat it could not deceive him. "Do go, please. I am going upstairs tobed. "

"Wait one minute. " He put out his injured arm, and, thinking that hereached for her hand, she brushed it aside, accidentally striking hiswound. 

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, " she said coldly, as he winced. 

"Maybe I've hurt you worse, " he persisted, with a tenderness that wasintolerable to her, "but, if I have, your wound'll heal just as minewill. " He gently pushed her back into her chair as she started to getup. 

"Are you making love to me, Race?" Under the ridicule of her tone hisface darkened. "If you are, it's insufferable in you. "

"Go easy, now, " he warned her. "I'll not be made a fool of. "

She did not heed his warning. Glad to have him on the rack, where shehad been, she laughed at him. 

"Haven't you sense enough to know that, for that very reason, I'd refuseto believe anything you might say against Gordon Wade? I know how youhate him. Listen to me. Oh, this is absurd!" She laughed again at thepicture he made. "You've pursued me for months with your attentions, although I've done everything but encourage you. Now I want you to knowthat I shall never again even listen to you. What Gordon is to DorothyPurnell is for him, and her, and perhaps for me to be interested in, butnot for you. Now I'm going to bed. Good night!"

He caught her by the arm as she stood up, but immediately released her, and stepped in front of her instead. 

"Hold on, " he begged, with a smile that meant wonderful mastery ofhimself. "I've got feelings, you know. You needn't walk on them. I loveyou, and I want you. What I want, I usually get. I mean to get you. " Shelooked up at him with heavy-lidded insolence. "I may fail, but if I do, it'll be one more notch in my account against Wade. I know now where tostrike him--to hurt. "

"You be reasonable, and _you'll_ be happier, " she retorted. "May I go?"

"Certainly. " He stepped out of her way. "Good night. "

CHAPTER XII

DESPERATE MEASURES

If Moran or Helen, early in their conversation, had looked out of thewindow of the hotel, during one of those vivid lightning flashes, theymight have seen a woman stealthily approaching the agent's office acrossthe street. Taking advantage of the deeper shadows and of the darknessbetween lightning flashes, she stole to the rear of the building, whereshe found an unlatched window, through which she scrambled with theagility of a boy. 

Within, the place was pitch dark, but like one amid familiarsurroundings, she crossed the hall and found the room she sought; theoffice room now of Moran, but formerly occupied by Simon Barsdale. Shebent over the big safe, and was twirling the combination knob in herslim, cold fingers, when she was startled by a noise in the hallwayoutside. With a gasp of fright, she stood motionless, listening acutely, but there was no further sound; reassured, she produced a bit of candle, which she lighted and placed to one side of the safe, so that the flamewas shaded from the windows. She was in the act of manipulating thecombination again when, her whole body rigid with fear, she stood erectonce more, holding her breath and striving for self-control. There wasno doubt about the noise this time. Some one had entered the adjoiningroom. 

Hastily snuffing out the candle, she crouched into the darkness of acorner. She never doubted that the newcomer was Race Moran, or that hewould almost immediately discover her. She tried to summon enoughresolution to bluff things through when the moment of discovery shouldcome. 

But, as the seconds slipped by and the lights were not turned on, shebegan to regain her courage. Perhaps Moran was sitting in the dark ofthe other room, smoking and thinking, and perhaps she could complete hertask without being caught, if she moved swiftly and silently. She bentagain over the shining knob, at the same time watching in the directionof the door, which was still closed as she had left it. It was difficultto work the lock in the dark, and, as she became engrossed with herpurpose, she ceased temporarily to listen acutely. She had justsucceeded in effecting the combination, when something touched her side. 

"Don't move!" a voice hissed behind her. "I'll shoot if you do!"

She wanted to cry out, "Please don't shoot!" but her tongue clove to theroof of her mouth, which had suddenly gone dry. She had fallen forwardagainst the door of the safe, and was curiously conscious how cold itfelt. She was on the point of fainting, when in a rush of relief itdawned upon her that she knew the voice; it was not Moran's. 

"Gordon!" she cried joyously, finding the use of her tongue as quicklyas she had lost it, and scrambling to her feet. "It's me--Dorothy!"

With an exclamation as joyous as her own and equally surprised, heseized her by the shoulders, peering through the darkness into her face. 

"Dorothy! What the. .. ?" A lightning flash revealed them clearly to eachother. "I told you not to try this. "

"But what are you doing in town?" She clutched his arms, overcome by afear greater than that for her own safety. "Gordon, Gordon, you must notstay here. There's a warrant out for you--no, no, not for that--for theJensen shooting. You'll be arrested on sight. "

"What?" He stared at her, amazed, and she nodded. "So that's their gamenow, eh? They've stooped even to that. By God!" He struck a match. 

"Be careful, " she warned him instantly. "The light--put it out. They'llsee it from the street. But, oh, Gordon, why did you come?"

He thrilled at the anxiety in her voice. 

"To find out what Moran is hiding here; and you're after the same thing, of course. "

"Yes. "

Impulsively, he squeezed her fingers, until she could have cried out inpain but for the sweetness of it; there are some agonies which do nothurt. Her throat swelled with joy, her breast heaved, and her eyelidsfluttered. She was grateful for the darkness, which hid these outwardsigns of love from him. She blushed; she could feel the warm tidepulsing in her temples; and she laughed brokenly from sheer happiness. 

"You shouldn't have taken such a risk, Dorothy. I told you not to. "

"You're taking that risk, Gordon, and more. "

"That's different. It's so dark a night, I thought I'd chance it. "

"There's not much risk for me, " she declared. "I can reach home in fiveminutes. Isn't it odd, though, that we both should have thought of doingit at exactly the same time. But come, Gordon, we must hurry!"

Now that the safe was open, to remove its contents took only a moment, and they tossed all the papers they found into a corner. Then, when Wadehad swung the safe around on its casters, they had a snug shelter behindit, where by shaded candle-light they ran rapidly through their loot. Most of the documents related to land purchases and development, but atthe bottom of the pile Wade came upon a bundle of papers andblue-prints, held together by a rubber band, which he stripped off. 

"Oh, if we should find nothing, after all, " Dorothy whispered, bendingwith him over the blue-prints. "What are they, Gordon?"

"Maps of my own range, Dorothy!" His tone was tense with excitement, ashe leaned nearer to the light. "Well, what do you know about that? ByHeaven"--He fairly glared at the sheet before his eyes. --"It's allthere!"

"What's all there? What is it?"

"Gold!" He looked at her in the flickering light, like a man gone mad. 

"Gold? On your range? Oh, Gordon!"

"Yes; on my range. It's inconceivable, almost; but it seems to be true. See! Look here!" Their heads were almost touching, so that her soft haircaressed his face. "This is a map of the upper valley, and thedescription says these red crosses indicate the location of gold. One isnear the head of Piah Creek, not half a mile from my buildings. "

"Oh, Gordon, I _am_ so glad!" Dorothy exclaimed. "How wonderful it allis. You'll be rich, won't you?" She was not too excited to remember thathis wealth would probably be shared by another woman, but she was toogenerous to be any the less glad on that account. 

"That remains to be seen, " he replied. "It may not prove to amount tomuch, you know. At any rate, Moran won't get any of it. That's worth awhole lot. "

She nodded vehemently. 

"I thought it must be something like that, Gordon. They would never havedone the things they have without some powerful reason. "

"Yes, you were right, Dorothy. You're usually right. " He caught her handand squeezed it again, and in this moment of their triumph together shecould not help returning the pressure. "You're a jewel, a brick, atrump--all those things and then some. The sweet. .. . "

"Now, we haven't time for that sort of thing, Mr. Man. We. .. . "

"Must get away while we can, yes, " he finished for her. "But just thesame I. .. . "

Her cold fingers on his lips stopped him. 

"Listen!"

She put out the candle and they crouched down beside the safe. Some onewas coming up the stairs, not stealthily this time but boldly, as onewho had a right there, whistling softly. Wade could feel the girl'sshoulder tremble against his side, as he slipped his revolver out of itsholster. 

"Don't, Gordon! You--you mustn't shoot, no matter what happens. " Herteeth were chattering, for she was far more frightened now than she hadbeen for herself alone. "That's Moran. He mustn't see you here. Rememberthat warrant. Hide behind the safe. Please!"

"Never!" he muttered grimly. "He'd find us anyhow. "

"Yes, yes. Please!" She was almost hysterical in her excitement. "I canbluff him till you can get away. He won't hurt me. If he does you canshow yourself. Do it for me, for your friends. Please! Remember, hemustn't know that _you've_ learned his secret. "

It was Moran, for they heard him now in conversation with some passer-byin the hallway. Dorothy was grateful for the respite, for it gave themtime to throw the loose papers back into the safe and close it. Wadethen pushed the safe to its original position, the casters making littlenoise as they rolled. Then he crouched behind it. 

"I don't like this stunt!" he protested; but yielded to her beseeching"Please. " She was right, too, he knew. It would be far better if Morancould be kept in ignorance of his visit there. 

The office now bore little sign of their invasion of it, and, drawing adeep breath, Dorothy schooled herself to calmness as she awaited Moran, who was walking down the hall toward the entrance to the room. A planhad flashed into her mind by means of which she might save both Wade andherself, if he and her heart would only be quiet. The unruly heart wasbeating so violently that it shook her thin dress, and that her voicemust tremble, she knew. 

Moran was almost at the threshold, when Dorothy opened the door for him. 

"Good evening, Mr. Moran. Did I startle you?"

"Well, not exactly, " he said, striking a match, after an instant'spause. "What are you doing here?"

Passing her, he lighted the large oil lamp, and swept the room with aquick, keen glance. Finding nothing apparently wrong, he turned again tohis visitor with a puzzled expression in his face. 

"Well?"

"I wanted to see you and I thought you'd be here. The door was unlockedso I just walked in. I've been here only a minute or two. " Fortified byanother deep breath, drawn while his back was turned, Dorothy found hervoice steadier than she expected. 

The agent looked at her keenly. 

"That's strange, " he commented. "I don't know what the door was doingunlocked. I always lock it when I leave. "

"You must have forgotten to do so to-night. "

"I surely must have, if you found it open. "

Half convinced that she was telling the truth, Moran could see but onereason for her evident fright: she was afraid of him. The suggestion ofthat strengthened the impulse which her beauty stirred in him. If shethought so, why not?

"Say, you're a good-looking kid, all right, " he leered. "What did youwant to see me for?"

A slight sound from behind the safe, or perhaps she imagined it, causedDorothy's heart to flutter wildly. She had not anticipated this attitudein Moran, and she instantly realized that it brought a fresh danger intothe situation. She knew that Wade would not remain in concealment if theagent insulted her. She must avoid the chance of that, if possible; mustget him out of the office so that Gordon might escape. 

"This is no place to talk that way, " she said bravely. "It isn't a goodplace for me to be anyway. If people knew I was here, there would be aterrible scandal. I've something important to tell you. Won't you comefor a walk?"

"In this rain? Not much, " he chuckled. "Come here!" She shook her headand tried to smile. "Well, if you won't, I'll have to go to you. " Sheshrank back from him, as he approached her, with an evil smile. "Say, little one, " he went on, "this is a damned funny game of yours, cominghere at night. What's the idea, eh?"

"There isn't any, really. " She snatched her hands away from him. "I'vealready tried to explain that I have important news for you; but I won'ttell you what it is here. "

"Why not? We're dry and cozy here. Go ahead. "

"No. "

"Oh, come on!" He had driven her to the wall, and now he slipped an armabout her waist and pulled her toward him. "Say, kiss me once, won'tyou?"

"Hands up, you low-lived hound!"

With an oath, Moran whirled around to find himself staring into themuzzle of Wade's revolver. The ranchman moved his weapon significantly. 

"Up!"

As the agent's hands went above his head, Dorothy leaned against thewall for support. She had not made a sound, but she was the color ofchalk, and her heart seemed to be trying to jump out of her mouth. Shewas no whiter than Wade, whose fury had driven every vestige of colorfrom his face and fired his eyes with a murderous light. 

"Shall I kill him?" he asked Dorothy, and at the frightful tone of hisvoice she found the power to shake her head, although her mouth was toodry for speech. 

"Take his gun, " said Wade sharply and the girl stepped forward. 

She reeled toward Moran, who, to do him justice, showed little fear, and pulled his revolver from his hip pocket. She held it out to Wade, who broke it with his free hand by pressing the butt against the top ofthe safe, and spilled the cartridges on the floor. 

"Now you can leave us, Dorothy, " he said quietly. 

"No. I'll stay, Gordon, " she answered. 

"Moran, " Wade continued evenly, without paying any more attention toher, "the only reason why I shall not kill you is because Miss Purnelldoes not want your worthless life upon her conscience. A man like youought to die. You're not fit to live. "

"Can I put my hands down?"

"No; keep 'em where they are!" Wade gestured again with the gun. "I wishI had a string on each of your thumbs so I could hoist them higher. I'vejust been through this safe of yours. " The agent started. "I've gotthose maps of my range in my pocket. "

"Much good they'll do you. "

"They'll do me more good alive than they will you dead, and you're goingto die. So help me God, you are! We'll come together again some day. "

"I hope so, " Moran declared venomously, and even Dorothy was struck bythe courage he showed. 

"And then there won't be anybody to be held responsible but me. " Wadegrinned in a slow, horrible fashion. "It'll rest light on me, I promiseyou. And another thing. I'm going to leave you trussed up here in thisoffice, like I left your friend the Sheriff a few days ago, and alongabout morning somebody'll find you and turn you loose. When you getloose, you want to forget that you saw Miss Purnell here to-night. I'vemeant to have her and her mother leave town for a bit until this messblows over, but things aren't fixed right for that just now. Instead, I'm going to leave her in the personal care--the _personal_ care, youunderstand me, of every decent man in Crawling Water. If anythinghappens to her, you'll toast over a slow fire before you die. Do you getthat?"

"She's a good kid, " said Moran, with a grin. Nor did he flinch when theweapon in Wade's hand seemed actually to stiffen under the tension ofhis grasp. 

"I guess it's a good thing you stayed, Dorothy, " the latter remarkedgrimly. "This fellow must be tied up. I wonder what we can find to do itwith?"

"My cloak?" Dorothy suggested. "It's an old one. "

He shook his head. 

"It's hard to tear that rain-proof stuff, and besides you'd get wetgoing home. There's no sense in that. Isn't there something else?"

She blushed a little and turned away for a moment, during which sheslipped off her underskirt. Then, as Moran watched her cynically, shetore it into strips. When she had thus made several stout bands, Wadespoke again. 

"You take the first throw or two about him, " he directed, "and when youhave him partly tied you can take my gun and I'll finish the job. Startwith his feet, that's right. Now draw it as tight as you can. Put yourarms down back of you! Tie them now, Dorothy. That's fine! Here, youtake the gun. You know how to use it, if he struggles. "

Wade tightened up the linen bands, and kicked forward a straight-backedchair, into which he forced Moran and lashed him fast there, to all ofwhich the agent made no great protest, knowing that to do so would beuseless. He grunted and swore a bit under his breath, but that was all. When he was well trussed up, the ranchman made a gag out of what wasleft of the linen and his own handkerchief and strapped it into hisprisoner's mouth with his belt. 

When the job was done, and it was a good one, he grinned again in thatslow, terrible way. A grin that bore no semblance to human mirth, butwas a grimace of combined anger and hatred. Once before, during thefight at the ranch, Bill Santry had seen this expression on hisemployer's face, but not to the degree that Dorothy now saw it. Itfrightened her. 

"Oh, Gordon, don't, please!" She closed her eyes to shut out the sight. "Come, we must hurry away. "

"Good night, " Wade said ironically, with a last look at Moran. 

He let Dorothy draw him away then, and by the time they reached thestreet he was his old boyish self again. Aping Moran, he slipped his armaround her waist, but she did not shrink from _his_ embrace, unexpectedthough it was. 

"Say, kid, " he laughed mockingly. "Kiss me once, won't you?"

CHAPTER XIII

INTO THE DEPTHS

"Good Lord, Race! What's happened?"

Senator Rexhill, on the next morning, surprised that Moran did not showup at the hotel, had gone in search of him, and was dumbfounded when heentered the office. 

Moran, in his desperate efforts to free himself, had upset the chairinto which he was tied, and being unable to right it again, had passedmost of the night in a position of extreme discomfort. Toward morning, his confinement had become positive agony, and he had inwardly raved atWade, the gag in his mouth making audible expression impossible, untilhe was black in the face. 

"My God, Race!" the Senator exclaimed, when, having cut the lashings andwithdrawn the gag, he saw his agent in a state bordering on collapse, "what has happened to you?" He helped the man to his feet and held himup. 

"My throat--dry--whiskey!" Moran gasped, and groaned as he clutched atthe desk, from which he slid into a chair, where he sat rubbing hislegs, which ached with a thousand pains. 

Rexhill found a bottle of whiskey and a glass on a shelf in the closet. He poured out a generous drink of the liquor and handed it to Moran, but the agent could not hold it in his swollen fingers. The Senatorpicked up the glass, which had not broken in its fall and, refilling it, held it to Moran's lips. It was a stiff drink, and by the time it wasrepeated, the agent was revived somewhat. 

"Now, tell me, " urged Rexhill. 

Prepared though he was for an outburst of fury, he was amazed at thetorrent of blasphemous oaths which Moran uttered. He caught Wade's name, but the rest was mere incoherence, so wildly mouthed and so foul that hebegan to wonder if torture had unbalanced the man's mind. The expressionof Moran's eyes, which had become mere slits in his inflamed and puffyface, showed that for the time he was quite beyond himself. What withhis blued skin and distended veins, his puffed lips and slurred speech, he seemed on the brink of an apoplectic seizure. Rexhill watched himanxiously. 

"Come, come, man. Brace up, " he burst out, at length. "You'll killyourself, if you go on that way. Be a man. "

The words seemed to have their effect, for the agent made a supremeeffort at the self-control which was seldom lacking in him. He appearedto seize the reins of self-government and to force himself into a stateof unnatural quiet, as one tames a frantic horse. 

"The safe!" he muttered hoarsely, scrambling to his feet. 

His stiffened legs still refused to function, however, and Rexhill, hastening to the safe, threw open the door. One glance at thedisordered interior told him the whole story. Moran watched feverishlyas he dragged the crumpled papers out on the floor and pawed throughthem. 

"Gone?"

"Gone!"

They looked at each other, a thin tide of crimson brightening thecongestion of Moran's visage, while Rexhill's face went ghastly white. With shaking fingers, the agent poured himself a third drink and tossedit down his throat. 

"It was Wade who tied you up?"

Moran nodded. 

"Him and that--girl--the Purnell girl. " Stirred more by the other'sexpression of contempt than by the full half pint of whiskey he hadimbibed, he crashed his fist down on the desk. "Mind what you say now, because, by God, I'm in no mood to take anything from you. He got thedrop on me, you understand. Let it go at that. "

"It's gone right enough--all gone. " Rexhill groaned. "Why, he only needsto publish those plots to make this a personal fight between us andevery property owner in the valley. They'll tar and feather us, if theydon't kill us outright. It'll be gold with them--gold. Nothing else willcount from now on. "

"I'll get back at him yet!" growled Moran. 

"You'll. .. . " The Senator threateningly raised his gorilla-like arms, butlet them drop helplessly again. "How did they get into the safe? Did youleave it open?"

"Do you think I'm a fool?" Moran fixed his baleful eyes upon hisemployer, as he leaned heavily, but significantly, across the flat desk. "Say, let's look ahead to to-morrow, not back to last night. Do youhear? I'll do the remembering of last night; you forget it!"

Rexhill tried to subdue him with his own masterful gaze, but somehow thepower was lacking. Moran was in a dangerous frame of mind, and past thedominance of his employer. He had but one thought, that of vengeanceupon the man who had misused him, to which everything else had for thetime being to play second. 

"You talk like I let them truss me up for fun, " he went on. "I did itbecause I had to, because I was looking into the muzzle of a six-shooterin the hands of a desperate man; that was why. Do you get me? And Idon't need to be reminded of it. No, by Heaven! My throat's as dry yetas a fish-bone, and every muscle in me aches like hell! I'll remember itall right, and _he'll_ pay. Don't you have any worries about that. "

Rexhill was sufficiently a captain of men to have had experience of suchmoods in the past, and he knew the futility of arguing. He carefullychose a cigar from his case, seated himself, and began to smoke. 

Moran, apparently soothed by this concession to his temper, and a bitashamed of himself, watched him for some moments in silence. When atlast he spoke, his tone was more conciliatory. 

"Have you heard from Washington?" he asked. 

"I got a telegram this morning, saying that the matter is underadvisement. "

"Under advisement!" Moran snorted, in disgust. "That means that they'llget the cavalry here in time to fire a volley over our graves--ashes toashes and dust to dust. What are you going to do about it?"

Rexhill blew a huge mouthful of fragrant smoke into the air. 

"Frankly, Race, I don't think you're in a proper mood to talk. "

"You're right. " Something in Moran's voice suggested the explosion of afire-arm, and the Senator looked at him curiously. "I'm through talking. We've both of us talked too damn much, and that's a fact. "

"I'll be obliged to you, " the Senator remarked, "if you'll remember thatyou draw a salary from me and that you owe me a certain amount ofrespect. "

Moran laughed raucously. 

"Respect! I don't owe you a damn thing, Senator; and what you owe me youwon't be able to pay if you sit here much longer waiting for somethingto turn up. You'll be ruined, that's what you'll be--ruined!" He broughthis big hand down on the table with a thump. 

"By your own carelessness. Now, look here, Race, I've made allowancesfor you, because. .. . "

"You don't need to soft soap me, Senator; save that for your officeseekers. " The agent was fast working himself into another passion. "I'venot ruined you, and you know it. A safe's a safe, isn't it? Instead ofruining you, I'm trying to save you. If you go broke, you'll do ityourself with your pap and sentiment. But if I am to pull your chestnutsout of the fire for you, you've got to give me a free hand. I've got tofight fire with fire. "

Rexhill wiped his glasses nervously, for despite his assumption of calm, his whole future swung upon the outcome of his Crawling Water venture. If he appeared calm, it was not because he felt so, but because theschooling of a lifetime had taught him that the man who keeps coolusually wins. 

"There's nothing to do but go on as we are headed now, " he declared. "Wade's discovery of our purpose is most unfortunate"--his voice shook atrifle--"but it can't be helped. In the legal sense, he has added to thelist of his crimes, and we have more against him than we ever had. Henow has three charges to face--murder, assault, and robbery. It restswith us whether he shall be punished by the courts for any of thethree. "

The Senator spoke emphatically in the effort to convince himself thathis statements were practically true, but he avoided Moran's eyes as hedid so. His show of optimism had little substance behind it, because nowthat his motives were likely to be bared to the public, he was too gooda lawyer not to realize how little standing he would have before a jury, in that section at least; of course, Wade must realize this equally welland feel fortified in his own position. Rexhill's chief hope had beenthat the support of the cavalry from Fort Mackenzie would enable him tocontrol the situation; but here, too, he was threatened by theunexpected hesitation of the authorities at Washington. 

Moran, however, was frankly contemptuous of the prospect of help fromthat source. He had never believed greatly in it, although at the timeit was first mentioned his enthusiasm for any plan of action hadinspired him with some measure of the Senator's confidence. Now that hislust of revenge made him intolerant of all opposition, he was thoroughlyexasperated by the telegram received from Washington, and had no faithin aid from such a quarter. 

"What if your cavalry doesn't come?" he demanded. 

"Then we must rely upon the Sheriff here to maintain the law that he issworn to support. "

"Bah! He's weakening now. He's not forgetting that he's to spend therest of his days in this town, after we've gone back East, or perhaps tohell. Who's to look after him, then, if he's got himself in bad with thefolks here? Senator"--Moran clumped painfully over to the safe andleaned upon it as he faced his employer--"it isn't cavalry that'll saveyou, or that old turkey buzzard of a sheriff either. I'm the man to doit, if anybody is, and the only way out is to lay for this man Wade andkidnap him. " Rexhill started violently. "Kidnap him, and take him intothe mountains, and keep him there with a gun at his head, until he signsa quit-claim. I've located the very spot to hide him in--Coyote Springs. It's practically inaccessible, a natural hiding-place. "

Rexhill turned a shade or two paler as he nervously brushed some cigarashes from his vest and sleeve. He had already gone farther along theroad of crime than he felt to be safe, but the way back seemed even moredangerous than the road ahead. The question was no longer one of ethics, but purely of expediency. 

"We haven't time to wait on cavalry and courts, " Moran went on. "I'mwilling to take the risk, if you are. If we don't take it, you know whatthe result will be. We may make our get-away to the East, or we _may_stop here for good--under ground. You have little choice either way. Ifyou get out of this country, you'll be down and out. Your name'll be abyword and you'll be flat broke, a joke and an object of contempt thenation over. And it's not only yourself you've got to think of; you'vegot to consider your wife and daughter, and how they'll stand povertyand disgrace. Against all that you've got a chance, a fighting chance. Are you game enough to take it?"

All that Moran said was true enough, for Rexhill knew that if he failedto secure control of Crawling Water Valley, his back would be broken, both politically and financially. He would not only be stripped of hiswealth, but of his credit and the power which stood him in lieu ofprivate honor. He would be disgraced beyond redemption in the eyes ofhis associates, and in the bosom of his family he would find no solacefor public sneers. Failure meant the loss forever of his daughter'srespect, which might yet be saved to him through the glamour of successand the reflection of that tolerance which the world is always ready toextend toward the successful. 

"You are right, " he admitted, "in saying that I have my wife anddaughter to consider, and that reminds me. I haven't told you that Helenoverheard our conversation about Wade, in my room, the other day. " Herapidly explained her indignation and threat of exposure. "I don't meanto say that your suggestion hasn't something to recommend it, " he summedup, "but if Wade were to disappear, and she felt that he had beeninjured, I probably could not restrain her. "

The agent leaned across the desk, leeringly. 

"Tell her the truth, that I found Wade here in this room with DorothyPurnell, at night; that they came here for an assignation, because itwas the one place in Crawling Water. .. . "

Rexhill got to his feet with an exclamation of disgust. 

"Well, say, then, that they came here to rifle the place, but that whenI caught them they were spooning. Say anything you like, but make herbelieve that it was a lovers' meeting. See if she'll care then to savehim. "

The Senator dropped heavily back into his chair without voicing theprotest that had been upon his tongue's end. He was quick to see that, contemptible though the suggestion was, it yet offered him a meanswhereby to save himself his daughter's respect and affection. The wholedanger in that regard lay in her devotion to Wade, which was responsiblefor her interest in him. If she could be brought to feel that Wade wasunworthy, that he had indeed wronged her, her own pride could be trustedto do the rest. 

"If I thought that Wade were the man to make her happy, " Rexhill puffedheavily, in restraint of his excitement. 

"Happy? Him?" Moran's eyes gleamed. 

"Or if there was a shred of truth--but to make up such a story out ofwhole cloth. .. . "

"What's the matter with you, Senator? Why, I thought you were a masterof men, a general on the field of battle!" The agent leaned forwardagain until his hot, whiskey-laden breath fanned the other man's face. 

"I'm a father, Race, before I'm anything else in God's world. "

"But it's true, Senator. True as I'm speaking. Ask any one in CrawlingWater. Everybody knows that Wade and this Purnell girl are mad in lovewith each other. "

"Is that true, Race?"

Rexhill looked searchingly into the inflamed slits which marked thelocation of the agent's eyes. 

"As God is my witness. It's the truth now, whatever he may have thoughtof Helen before. He's been making a fool of her, Senator. I've tried tomake her see it, but she won't. You'll not only be protecting yourself, but you'll do her a service. " He paused as Rexhill consulted his watch. 

"Helen will be over here in a few minutes. I promised to take a walkwith her this morning. "

"Are you game?"

"I'll do it, Race. " Rexhill spoke solemnly. "We might as well fry forone thing as another. " Grimacing, he shook the hand which the otheroffered him. "When will you start?"

"Now, " Moran answered promptly. "I'll take three or four men with me, and we'll hang around Wade's ranch until we get him. He'll probably benosing around the range trying to locate the gold, and we shouldn't havemuch trouble. When we've got him safe. .. . " His teeth ground audibly uponeach other as he paused abruptly, and the sound seemed to cause theSenator uneasiness. 

"By the way, since I've turned near-assassin, you might as well tell mewho shot Jensen. " Rexhill spoke with a curious effort. "If Wade getsyou, instead of you getting Wade, it may be necessary for me to know allthe facts. "

Moran answered from the window, whither he had stepped to get his hat, which lay on the broad sill. 

"It was Tug Bailey, Senator. Here comes Helen now. You needn't tell herthat I was tied up all night. " He laid Wade's quirt on the desk. "Heleft that behind him. "

Rexhill grunted. 

"Yes, I will tell her, " he declared sulkily, "and about the Jensenaffair, if I've got to be a rascal, you'll be the goat. Give Bailey somemoney and get him out of town before he tanks up and tells all heknows. "

Helen came in, looking very sweet and fresh in a linen suit, and was atfirst inclined to be sympathetic when she heard of Moran's plight, without knowing the source of it. Before she did know, the odor ofliquor on his breath repelled her. He finally departed, not at thebidding of her cool nod, but urged by his lust of revenge, which, evenmore than the whiskey, had fired his blood. 

"Intoxicated, isn't he? How utterly disgusting!"

Her father looked at her admiringly, keenly regretting that he mustdispel her love dream. But he took some comfort from the fact that Wadewas apparently in love with another woman. The thought of this had beenenough to make him seize upon the chance of keeping all her affectionfor himself. 

"He's had a drink or two, " he admitted, "but he needed them. He had ahard night. Poor fellow, he was nearly dead when I arrived. Wade handledhim very roughly. "

Helen looked up in amazement. 

"Did _Gordon_ do it? What was he doing here?" The Senator hesitated, andwhile she waited for his answer she was struck by a sense of humor inwhat had happened. She laughed softly. "Good for him!"

"We think that he came here to--to see what he could find, partly, "Rexhill explained. "That probably was not his only reason. He wasn'talone. "

"Oh!" Her tone expressed disappointment that his triumph had not been asingle-handed one. "Did they tie him with these?" she asked, picking upone of the crumpled strips of linen, which lay on the floor. Suddenlyher face showed surprise. "Why--this is part of a woman's skirt?"

Her father glanced at the strip of linen over his glasses. 

"Yes, " he nodded. "I believe it is. "

"Somebody was here with Race?" Her voice was a blend of attemptedconfidence and distressing doubt. 

"My dear, I have painful news for you. .. . "

"With Gordon?" The question was almost a sob. "Who, father? DorothyPurnell?"

Helen dropped into a chair, and going to her, the Senator placed hishands on her shoulders. She looked shrunken, years older, with the bloomof youth blighted as frost strikes a flower, but even in the first andworst moments of her grief there was dignity in it. In a measure RaceMoran had prepared her for the blow; he, and what she herself had seenof the partisanship between Dorothy and Gordon. 

"You must be brave, my dear, " her father soothed, "because it isnecessary that you should know. Race came upon them here last night, ineach other's embrace, I believe, and with the girl's help, Wade got theupper hand. "

"Are you sure it was Gordon?" Her cold fingers held to his warm ones asin her childhood days, when she had run to him for protection. 

"His quirt is there on the desk. "

"But why should they have come here, father--here of all places? Doesn'tthat seem very improbable to you? That is what I can't understand. Whydidn't he go to her house?"

"For fear of arrest, I suppose. Their reason for coming here, you havehalf expressed, Helen, because it offered them the safest refuge, atthat time of night, in Crawling Water. The office has not been used atnight since we rented it, and besides Moran has been doubly busy withme at the hotel. But I don't say that was their sole reason for cominghere. The safe had been opened, and doubtless their chief motive wasrobbery. "

She sprang to her feet and stood facing him with flaming cheeks, grievedstill but aroused to passionate indignation. 

"Father, do you stand there and tell me that Gordon Wade has not onlybeen untrue to me, but that he came here at night to steal from _you_;broke in here like a common thief?" Her breast heaved violently, and inher eyes shone a veritable fury of scorn. 

The Senator met her outburst gravely as became a man in his position. Hespoke with judicial gravity, which could leave no doubt of his ownconvictions, while conveying a sense of dignified restraint, temperedwith regret. 

"He not only did so, my dear, but he succeeded in escaping withdocuments of the greatest value to us, which, if prematurely published, may work us incalculable harm and subject our motives to the mostgrievous misconception. "

She lifted her head with so fine a gesture of pride that the Senator wasthrilled by his own paternity. Before him, in his child, he seemed tosee the best of himself, purified and exalted. 

"Then, if that is true, you may do with him what you will. I amthrough. "

He knew her too well to doubt that her renunciation of Wade had beentorn from the very roots of her nature, but for all that, when she hadspoken, she was not above her moment of deep grief. 

"My little girl, I know--I know!" Putting his arms around her, he heldher while she wept on his shoulder. "But isn't it better to find outthese things now, in time, before they have had a chance to really wreckyour happiness?"

"Yes, of course. " She dried her eyes and managed to smile a little. "I--I'll write to Maxwell to-day and tell him that I'll marry him. Thatwill please mother. "

It pleased the Senator, too, for it meant that no matter what happenedto him, the women of his family would be provided for. He knew thatyoung Frayne was too much in love to be turned from his purpose by anymisfortune that might occur to Helen's father. 

CHAPTER XIV

A DASTARD'S BLOW

At about the time when Rexhill was freeing Moran from his bonds, Wadeand Santry, with rifles slung across their backs were tramping the banksof Piah Creek. In the rocky canyon, which they finally reached, theplacid little stream narrowed into a roaring torrent, which rushedbetween the steep banks and the huge, water-worn bowlders, with furyuncontrolled. 

Neither of the cattlemen greatly feared the coming of a second posse, atleast immediately, but for the sake of prudence, they went armed andkept a careful watch. Wade mounted guard while Santry, who in hisyounger days had prospected in California, squatted over a sandy, rock-rimmed pool and deftly "washed out" a pan of gravel. One glance atthe fine, yellow residue in the bottom of the pan decided him. With atriumphant yell that echoed and reechoed through the gorge, he sprang tohis feet. 

"Whoop-e-e-e! I've struck it!" he shouted excitedly, as Wade ran up tohim. "Look there!" The old man held out a small handful of the yellowdust. 

Wade drew a long breath. 

"Gold! It's true, then!"

"You betcher, and it's the richest pay-dirt I ever met up with. Nowonder Moran has been willin' to do murder to get a-holt of this land. You're a rich man, boy; a millionaire, I reckon. "

"You mean that _we_ are rich, Bill. " The younger man spoke slowly andemphatically. "Whatever comes out of here"--he waved his hand toward thecreek--"is one-half yours. I decided on that long ago. Never mind askingme why. " He clapped Santry on the back. "It's because we're partners infact, if not in name. Because you've stuck with me through all the leanyears. That's reason enough. "

The old plainsman carefully emptied the dust back into the pan before hesaid anything. 

"Have you gone clean crazy?" he finally demanded. "Givin' away a fortunelike it was the makin's of a cigareet? If you have, I ain't. Thisstuff's yourn. I'm not sayin' that I won't take a ounce or two, maybe, of this here dust, for old times' sake, if you offer it to me, butthat's all. " His wrinkled face twisted into a grin. "You'll be needin'it all one o' these days to pay for your honeymoonin', if I read thesigns right. Ain't that so, son?" He laughed softly as Wade flushed. "Shake, boy! Put 'er there! I wish you all the luck that's comin' to anywhite man, by the great horned toad, I do!"

During the whole of the morning they examined the creek bed and theyfound signs of the yellow metal almost everywhere. At one point, Wadebroke a knob of rock from the face of the cliff, the under surface ofwhich was seamed and streaked with golden veins. Santry could scarcelyrestrain himself; usually taciturn, he was for once as light-hearted andjoyous as a boy. But on the way back to the ranch-house he becameserious. 

"Say, ain't the bulk of that lode on that forty-acre tract that you tookup as a timber claim?" he asked. 

"Yes, " Wade answered. "That is, I think so. We can run over the linesthis afternoon and make sure. "

"I reckon we'd better make sure, and if it is, you'll have to lay lowuntil you get your deed. Your homestead rights might be hard to claimnow that there's mineral in the ground. Moran'll most likely keep hismouth shut for reasons of his own, and he may not know about your nothavin' proved up yet, but some other jasper might get wise. "

"I don't think any one around here would contest my right to the land, Bill, " Wade replied thoughtfully. "Still, as you say, we'd better becareful. The gold will keep. We haven't heard the last of Moran and hiscrowd yet, not by a jugful. " He chuckled grimly. "I wonder if anybody'scut him loose yet. "

"I reckon they have, boy. He'll keep monkeyin' around this territoryuntil he meets up with some feller like me, with a bad temper and aquick gun hand, who'll make him good the same way we useter make goodInjuns. Hullo, steady!"

Although they were now in sight of the house and the men hanging aboutit for the noon-day meal, Santry had not relaxed his caution and hiseyes had picked out two moving dots in the distance, which presentlydeveloped into galloping horses. He smiled instantly. 

"Can't be nobody lookin' for trouble, " he observed, and presently hiseyes twinkled. "Take a good look, boy. I reckon you know _one_ of 'em, anyhow. "

The horses came on rapidly, until upon the foremost of them Wade couldsee the fluttering skirt of a woman, while the other he recognized asbelonging to Lem Trowbridge even before he could clearly make out therider. 

"Tell the cook we'll have company to dinner, " Wade called to Santry ashe untied a horse from the hitching rack near the barn and rode off tomeet the newcomers. 

With fine prescience, Trowbridge, when he saw him ride toward them, drewhis horse down to a walk, and so was discreetly in the rear when Dorothyand Wade met. 

"Mighty glad to see you, " he greeted her, "but that goes withoutsaying. "

"Thanks, " she responded, hoping that he would attribute the heightenedcolor of her cheeks to the exertion of the ride. "We thought we'd rideout to see how you were getting along. "

Despite her blush, that had come at the recollection of his kiss thenight before, she still looked him straight in the eyes, but with asweet humility, an attitude of surrender, which he understood and whichtouched him. There was nothing bold about her look, but an engagingwomanliness, which would have appealed to any decent man, even while itstirred his pulse. She wore a wide felt hat, from beneath the brim ofwhich her hair floated, shaken out of its moorings by the jolting ofher gallop. A flannel blouse, which was most becoming, and a dividedskirt completed a sensible costume, which seemed to Wade more attractivethan any he had ever seen in the East. She rode with the straightstirrups of the cattle country, and sat her mount with the grace of aborn horsewoman. 

"What's happened to Moran?" he asked, waving his hat to Trowbridge, asthe latter rode toward them. 

"He's out and around again. I saw him this morning. He was an awfulsight. You must keep your eyes open, Gordon, really you must. He'll bemore dangerous than ever now. "

"Oh, I guess we've clipped his claws for a while, " he said lightly, unwilling that she should be anxious for his safety, sweet though hefound her sympathy to be. "Hello, Lem!"

"Hello, yourself!" They shook hands, the firm handclasp of strong men, and then all three rode on together to the house. 

After dinner, the plainness of which meant nothing to such appetites astheir out-door living had aroused, they sat on the porch, the men overtheir cigarettes and Dorothy quite content in the contemplation of thesweetness which her heart had found. 

"How are things going on your place, Lem?" asked Wade. 

"Badly, Gordon. That's one reason I rode over to see you. Have you heardabout the fight on my range? You haven't?"

"I didn't have time last night to tell him, " Dorothy interposed. 

"A number of my boys got into a shooting affray with some herders, "Trowbridge explained. "Two of the boys were hurt and one of the herders, I understand, was badly shot. "

"Too bad, " Wade commented. "Confound it, Lem, what are these fellowsthinking of? They must know that our patience won't last always, andwhen it breaks we're ten to their one. "

"Well, "--Trowbridge deftly flecked his cigarette stub over the porchrailing, --"I'm through now, Gordon. I've given my men orders to standfor no more nonsense. I've told them to shoot at the drop of the hat, and I'll stand behind 'em, law or no law. The next time there's trouble, and it's likely to come any hour, I'm going to lead my outfit into afight that'll be some fight, believe me. And I'm not going to quit untilevery sheep man in the county is headed East on the run. "

"We'll be with you, " Wade said heartily. "Tip us the word and we'll beright after you. "

Trowbridge nodded. 

"I'll take you up on that, Gordon. Not that we need help, youunderstand, but because it'll be best for us to present a united frontin this business. United, we stand; divided, we fall; that's the word, eh?"

Dorothy leaned forward, with an anxious look. 

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I hope neither one of you will get shot. "

Trowbridge made her a bow from his chair. 

"We'll try not to, " he said mockingly, and she was obliged to join inthe general laugh. 

"If you feel that you ought to do it, of course you will--fight, Imean, " she said, helplessly. "But I think it's dreadful, all the same. "

"What has Thomas done about me?" Wade asked. "I understand that he'sholding quite a bunch of warrants up his sleeve?"

"I don't think he's done anything, and I don't believe he's anxious to, "Trowbridge answered. "He's shown some courage, that fellow, in the past, but I always thought he had a yellow streak in him somewhere. I don'tthink you need fear him much. "

"Well, I'm glad to know that, not that I've been very uneasy, but we'vehad to keep a pretty close look-out here, and it's doubled us upuncomfortably. I want to go out to my timber claim this afternoon, andbut for what you've said, I know Bill would insist on going along. Now Ican leave him here to attend to his work. "

Dorothy was opposed to the idea and she said so, but her opinion wasoverridden by the two men. Trowbridge declared that there was absolutelynothing to fear from Sheriff Thomas, at least immediately. 

"I'm positive of that, " he summed up. "If there was any new move onfoot, I'd have heard of it. "

"That may be, " Dorothy argued, "but you know Senator Rexhill is behindhim to urge him on. "

"That's another man we ought to run out of this neighborhood, "Trowbridge declared. "The only trouble is that the old fox has laid solow that we haven't anything definite on him. We can suspect all welike; but when it comes right down to facts, he has us guessing. Wecan't prove a thing against him, and he's too big game to flush withoutpowder. Well, we'd better be off. "

"Stay a while, " Wade urged. "It's early yet. I didn't mean to hurry youwhen I spoke of going out to the claim. I've got plenty of time. "

"I haven't told him about the gold, " Dorothy whispered, as he helped herinto her saddle. "I thought you might want to keep it quiet for thepresent. "

"Sure, we'll tell him, " he said, pressing her hand. "We're all on thesame side in this business. "

He explained his good fortune to Trowbridge, who was delighted andenthusiastic over the prospect of the vein impinging upon his own range. 

"Well, that _is_ some luck, eh?" Trowbridge skillfully managed hishorse, which was high-spirited enough to still be sportive in spite ofthe long ride of the morning. "Every cloud's got a silver lining, as thepoet says. And another thing, it shows Rexhill's real motive, don'tforget that. Oh, we'll get 'em by and by. Sure thing, we will. Well, solong. "

"So long, Lem! Call on us when you want us. "

"Good-by!" Dorothy waved to him as the horses sped away in the directionof Crawling Water. 

Wade watched them out of sight, and then entered the house to tellSantry that he would not be needed on the afternoon trip to the timberclaim. The old man growled a little at the idea of Wade going alone, but he finally gave in. 

"I'll take my gun and keep my eye peeled, " his employer promised. "If Ican't stand off trouble until I get home, or you can get to me, I'lllose my bet. You've got your work to do, Bill. If you're going to nurseme all the time, I'll have to get another foreman to run the crew. "

He rode away, then, toward the foothills, confident of his ability tolook after himself in case of trouble. There was nothing in the peacefulaspect of the range to suggest an enemy, but he kept his rifle ready andhis ears and eyes open. Once he paused abruptly when a rabbit jumped outof a clump of quaking-aspens, a hundred yards ahead, only to chuckle athis own overcaution. 

The sun, which was still high, was shining as only a Wyoming sun canshine, from out of a blue-vaulted canopy, flecked with fleecy clouds. Swinging from the tops of the sagebrush, or an occasional cottonwood, yellow-breasted meadowlarks were singing sweetly. At intervals a flockof curlews circled above the rider, uttering their sharp, plaintivecries; then they would drop to the ground and run rapidly to and fro ontheir frail, stilt-like legs, their long ungainly bills darting fromside to side in search of food. 

Over the plains, from which Wade now turned, hundreds of red and whitecattle, their hides as sleek as velvet, were grazing, singly and inscattered groups, as far as the eye could see. Toward its mouth, thevalley was spotted with many fenced alfalfa fields, and traversed byirrigation ditches; while to the right, in the direction in which Wadenow rode, rose the timber belt. A fresh, soft breeze, fragrant with theodor of clean, damp earth, rustled the leaves of the cottonwoods, someof which were of enormous size, as the horseman pushed his way fartherinto the shadow of the mountains. 

After a careful scrutiny, which satisfied him that the vicinity harboredno enemies, he dismounted, but still actuated by caution, kept thebridle reins looped over his wrist, as he searched for further evidenceof gold. Unlike Santry, the ranchman was not trained in the ways ofprospecting, and he began to regret that he had not allowed the foremanto accompany him. He followed what he thought were promising signsdeeper into the silence of the tall timber, and finally dropped on hisknees to make sure of some outcroppings of quartz near the base of ahuge bowlder. He was so crouched when a sudden movement of his horsewarned him of danger; but he had not time to arise before a crushingblow on the head, delivered from behind, shook him to the very marrow ofhis spine. With a low groan, he toppled over onto his face, senseless. 

"Have you got him?" Moran peered around the side of the bowlder, andsmiled exultantly when he saw Wade's still figure. "Throw him acrossyour saddle, " he commanded, "and follow me. "

CHAPTER XV

THE FIRST CLEW

"Let's see!" Trowbridge reined in his horse and meditated, when he andDorothy had covered several miles of their ride back to Crawling Water. "Jensen was shot around here somewhere, wasn't he?"

"I think it was over there. " She pointed with her quirt in the directionof a distant clump of jack-pines. "Why?"

"Suppose we ride over and take a look at the spot. " He smiled at herlittle shudder of repugnance. "We haven't any Sherlock Holmes in thiscountry, and maybe we need one. I'll have a try at it. Come on!"

In response to the pressure of his knees, the trained cow-pony whirledtoward the jack-pines, and Dorothy followed, laughing at the idea thatso ingenuous a man as Lem Trowbridge might possess the analytical giftof the trained detective. 

"You!" she said mockingly, when she had caught up with him. "You're astransparent as glass; not that it isn't nice to be that way, but stillyou are. Besides, the rain we've had must have washed all tracks away. "

"No doubt, but we'll have a look anyhow. It won't do any harm. Seriously, though, the ways of criminals have always interested me. I'drather read a good detective story than any other sort of yarn. "

"I shouldn't think that you had any gift that way. "

"That's got nothing to do with it, " he laughed. "It's always like that. Haven't you noticed how nearly every man thinks he's missed his calling;that if he'd only gone in for something else he'd have been a rattlinggenius at it? Just to show you! I've got a hand over at the ranch, afellow named Barry, who can tie down a steer in pretty close to therecord. He's a born cowman, if I ever saw one, but do you suppose hethinks that's his line?"

"Doesn't he?" she asked politely. One of the secrets of her popularitylay in her willingness to feed a story along with deft littleinterjections of interest. 

"He does not. Poetry! Shakespeare! That's his 'forty'! At night he getsout a book and reads Hamlet to the rest of the boys. Thinks that if he'dever hit Broadway with a show, he'd set the town on fire. "

When Dorothy laughed heartily, as she now did, the sound of it was worthgoing miles to hear. There are all shades of temperament and characterin laughter, which is the one thing of which we are leastself-conscious; hers revealed not only a sense of humor, rare in hersex, but a blithe, happy nature, which made allies at once of those uponwhose ears her merriment fell. Trowbridge's eyes sparkled with hisappreciation of it. 

"Well, maybe he would, " she said, finally. 

"Maybe I'll make good along with Sherlock Holmes. " He winked at her ashe slipped from his horse's back, on the edge of a rocky knoll, frontingthe jack-pines. "This is the place, I reckon. " His quick eyes hadcaught a dark stain on a flat rock, which the rain had failed to cleanseentirely of the dead herders' blood. 

When Dorothy saw it, too, her mirth subsided. To her mind, the thoughtof death was most horrible, and especially so in the case of a murderousdeath, such as had befallen the sheep men. Not only was the thinghorrible in itself, but still more so in its suggestion of the dangerswhich threatened her friends. 

"Do hurry!" she begged. "There can't be anything here. "

"Just a minute or two. " Struck by the note of appeal in her voice, sounlike its lilt of the moment before, he added: "Ride on if you wantto. "

"No, " she shuddered. "I'll wait, but please be quick. "

It was well for her companion that she did wait, or at least that shewas with him for, when he had inspected the immediate vicinity of theshooting, he stepped backward from the top of the knoll into a little, brush-filled hollow, in which lay a rattlesnake. Deeply interested inhis search, he did not hear the warning rattle, and Dorothy might nothave noticed it either had not her pony raised its head, with a startand a snort. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the snake and calledout sharply. 

"Look out, behind you, Lem!"

There are men, calling themselves conjurors, who perform prodigies ofagility with coins, playing-cards, and other articles of legerdemain, but they are not so quick as was Trowbridge in springing sidewise fromthe menacing snake. In still quicker movement, the heavy Colt at hisside leaped from its holster. The next second the rattle had ceasedforever, for the snake's head had been neatly cut from its body. 

"Close call! Thanks!" Trowbridge slid his weapon back into its restingplace and smiled up at her. 

So close, indeed, had the call been that, coming upon the dreadfulassociations of the spot, Dorothy was unnerved. Her skin turned a sicklywhite and her lips were trembling, but not more so than were the flanksof the horses, which seemed to be in an agony of fear. When the girl sawTrowbridge pick up a withered stick and coolly explore the recesses of asmall hole near which the snake had been coiled, she rebelled. 

"I'm not going to stay here another minute, " she declared hotly. 

"Just a second. There may be another one. .. . Oh, all right, go on, then, " he called out, as she whirled her pony and started off. "I'llcatch you. Ride slow!"

He looked after her with a smile of amusement, before renewing hisefforts with the stick, holding his bridle reins with one hand so thathis horse could not follow hers. To his disappointment there seemed tobe nothing in the hole, but his prodding suddenly developed an amazingfact. He was on the point of dropping the stick and mounting his horse, when he noticed a small piece of metal in the leaves and grass at themouth of the hole. It was an empty cartridge shell. 

"By Glory!" he exclaimed, as he examined it. "A clew, or I'm a sinner!"

Swinging into his saddle, he raced after Dorothy, shouting to her as herode. In her pique, she would not answer his hail, or turn in hersaddle; but he was too exultant to care. He was concerned only withovertaking her that he might tell her what he had found. 

"For the love of Mike!" he said, when by a liberal use of his spurs hecaught up with her. "What do you think this is, a circus?"

"You can keep up, can't you?" she retorted banteringly. 

"Sure, I can keep up, all right. " He reached out and caught her bridlerein, pulling her pony down to a walk in spite of her protests. "I wantto show you something. You can't see it riding like a jockey. Lookhere!" He handed her the shell. "You see, if I had come when you wantedme to, I wouldn't have found it. That's what's called the detectiveinstinct, I reckon, " he added, with a grin. "Guess I'm some littleSherlock, after all. "

"Whose is it?" She turned the shell over in her palm a trifle gingerly. 

"Look!" He took it from her and pointed out where it had been dented bythe firing-pin. "I reckon you wouldn't know, not being up in fire-arms. The hammer that struck this shell didn't hit true; not so far off as tomiss fire, you understand, but it ain't in line exactly. That tells me alot. "

"What does it tell you?" She looked up at him quickly. 

"Well, " he spoke slowly, "there ain't but one gun in Crawling Water thathas that peculiarity, that I know of, and that one belongs, or didbelong, to Tug Bailey. "

She caught at his arm impulsively so that both horses were brought to astandstill. 

"Then _he_ shot Jensen, Lem?"

Her voice was tremulous with eagerness, for although she had neverdoubted Wade or Santry; had never thought for a moment that either mancould have committed the crime, or have planned it, she wanted themcleared of the doubt in the eyes of the world. Her disappointment wasacute when she saw that Trowbridge did not deem the shell to beconvincing proof of Bailey's guilt. 

"Don't go too fast now, Dorothy, " he cautioned. "This shell proves thatBailey's gun was fired, but it doesn't prove that Bailey's finger pulledthe trigger, or that the gun was aimed at Jensen. Bailey might haveloaned the rifle to somebody, or he might have fired at a snake, like Idid a few minutes ago. "

"Oh, he might have done anything, of course. But the shell is someevidence, isn't it? It casts the doubt on Tug Bailey, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does that, all right. It casts it further than him. " Thecattleman spoke positively. "It's a clew, that's what it is. We've got aclew and we've got a motive, and we didn't have either of themyesterday. "

"How do you suppose that shell got where you found it?" she asked, hervoice full of hope. 

"Bailey must have levered it out of his rifle, after the shooting, andit fell into that hole. You see, "--he could not resist making thetriumphant point once more, --"if I hadn't stopped to look for anotherrattler, I never would have found it. Just that chance--just a littlechance like that--throws the biggest criminals. Funny, ain't it?" Butshe was too preoccupied with the importance of the discovery to dwell onhis gifts as a sleuth. 

"What can we do about it, Lem?" She gave her pony her head and theybegan to move slowly. "What ought we to do?"

"I'll find this fellow, Bailey, and wring the truth out of him, " heanswered grimly; and her eyes sparkled. "If I'm not greatly mistaken, though, he was only the tool. "

"Meaning that Moran. .. . "

"And Rexhill, " Trowbridge snapped. "They are the men higher up, and thegame we're really gunning for. They hired Bailey to shoot Jensen so thatthe crime might be fastened on to Gordon. I believe that as fully as I'malive this minute; the point is to prove it. "

"Then we've no time to waste, " she said, touching her pony with thequirt. "We mustn't loiter here. Suppose Bailey has been sent away?"

The thought of this caused them to urge their tired horses along atspeed. Many times during the ride which followed Trowbridge lookedadmiringly at his companion as she rode on, untiringly, side by sidewith him. A single man himself, he had come to feel very tenderly towardher, but he had no hope of winning her. She had never been more thangood friends with him, and he realized her feeling for Wade, but thisknowledge did not make him less keen in his admiration of her. 

"Good luck to you, Lem, " she said, giving him her hand, as they pausedat the head of Crawling Water's main street. "Let me know what you do assoon as you can. I'll be anxious. "

He nodded. 

"I know about where to find him, if he's in town. Oh, we're slowlygetting it on them, Dorothy. We'll be ready to 'call' them pretty soon. Good-by!"

Tug Bailey, however, was not in town, as the cattleman learned at MonteJoe's dance-hall, piled high with tables and chairs and reeking with thestench, left over from the previous night, of whiskey fumes and staletobacco smoke. Monte Joe professed not to know where the puncher hadgone, but as Trowbridge pressed him for information the voice of awoman, as shrill as the squawk of a parrot, floated down from the floorabove. 

"Wait a minute. "

Trowbridge waited and the woman came down to him. He knew her byill-repute, as did every man in the town, for she was Pansy Madder, oneof the dance-hall habitués, good-looking enough by night to the inflamedfancy, but repulsive by day, with her sodden skin and hard eyes. 

"You want to know where Tug is?" she demanded. 

"Yes, where is he?"

"He's headed for Sheridan, I reckon. If he ain't headed there, he'llstrike the railroad at some other point; him and that--Nellie Lewis, that he's skipped with. " Her lusterless eyes were fired by the onlything that could fire them: her bitter jealousy. 

"You're sure?" Trowbridge persisted, a little doubtfully. 

"Sure? Of course, I'm sure. Say, "--she clutched at his arm as he turnedaway, --"if he's wanted for anything, bring him back here, will you?Promise me that! Let me"--her pale lips were twisted by an uglysmile--"get my hands on him!"

From the dance-hall, Trowbridge hastened to the jail to swear out awarrant for Bailey's arrest and to demand that Sheriff Thomas telegraphto Sheridan and to the two points above and below, Ranchester andClearmont, to head off the fugitive there. Not knowing how far theSheriff might be under the dominance of the Rexhill faction, thecattleman was not sure that he could count upon assistance from theofficial. He meant, if he saw signs of indecision, to do thetelegraphing himself and to sign at the bottom of the message the nameof every ranch owner in the district. That should be enough to awakenthe law along the railroad without help from Thomas, and Trowbridge knewthat such action would be backed up by his associates. 

He had no trouble on this score, however, for Sheriff Thomas was away onthe trail of a horse-thief, and the deputy in charge of the jail was ofsturdier character than his chief. 

"Will I help you, Lem?" he exclaimed. "Say, will a cat drink milk? Youbet I'll help you. Between you and me, I've been so damned ashamed ofwhat's been doing in this here office lately that I'm aching for achance to square myself. I'll send them wires off immediate. "

"I reckon you're due to be the next Sheriff in this county, Steve, "Trowbridge responded gratefully. "There's going to be a change herebefore long. "

"That so? Well, I ain't sayin' that I'd refuse, but I ain't doin' thisas no favor, either, you understand. I'm doin' it because it's the law, the good old-fashioned, honest to Gawd, s'help me die, law!"

"That's the kind we want here--that, or no kind. So long, Steve!"

With a nod of relief, Trowbridge left the jail, well-satisfied that hehad done a good turn for Wade, and pleased with himself for having livedso well up to the standards set by the detectives of popular fiction. Since Bailey had not had time to reach the railroad, his arrest was nowalmost a certainty, and once he was back in Crawling Water, a bucket ofhot tar and a bundle of feathers, with a promise of immunity forhimself, would doubtless be sufficient to extract a confession from himwhich would implicate Rexhill and Moran. 

Feeling that he had earned the refreshment of a drink, the cattleman wasabout to enter the hotel when, to his consternation, he saw tearingmadly down the street toward him Bill Santry, on a horse that hadevidently been ridden to the very last spurt of endurance. He ranforward at once, for the appearance of the old man in Crawling Water, with a warrant for murder hanging over his head, could only mean thatsome tragedy had happened at the ranch. 

"Hello, Lem!" Santry greeted him. "You're just the man I'm lookin' for. "

"What's the trouble?" Trowbridge demanded. 

"The boy!" The old plainsman slid from his horse, which could hardlykeep its feet, but was scarcely more spent in body than its rider was innerve. His face was twitching in a way that might have been ludicrousbut for its significance. "They've ambushed him, I reckon. I comestraight in after you, knowin' that you'd have a cooler head for thishere thing than--than I have. "

"My God!" The exclamation shot from Trowbridge like the crack of a gun. "How did it happen?"

Santry explained the details, in so far as he knew them, in a fewbreathless sentences. The old man was clearly almost beside himself withgrief and rage, and past the capacity to act intelligently upon his owninitiative. He had not been satisfied, he said, to remain behind at theranch and let Wade go to the timber tract alone, and so after a periodof indecision he had followed him. Near the edge of the timber he hadcome upon Wade's riderless horse, trailing broken bridle reins. He hadfollowed the animal's tracks back to the point of the assault, butthere was no sign of Wade, which fact indicated that he had been carriedaway by those who had overcome him. 

"I could see by the tracks that there was a number of 'em; as many asfive or six, " the old man summed up. "I followed their sign as far as Icould, but I lost it at the creek. Then I went back to the house andsent some of the boys out to scout around before I come down here afteryou. "

"Where do you suppose they could have taken him?" Trowbridge asked. "They'd never dare bring him to town. "

"Gawd knows, Lem! There's more pockets and drifts up in them hills thanthere is jack-rabbits. 'Tain't likely the boys'll find any new sign, leastways not in time; not before that ---- of a Moran--it was him didit, damn him! I know it was. Lem, for Gawd's sake, what are we goin' todo?"

"The first thing to do, Bill, is to get you out of this town, beforeThomas shows up and jumps you. "

"I don't keer for myself. I'll shoot the. .. . "

"Luckily, he's away just now, " Trowbridge went on, ignoring theinterruption. "Come with me!" He led the way into the hotel. "Frank, " hesaid to the red-headed proprietor, "is Moran in town to-day?"

"Nope. " The Irishman regarded Santry with interest. "He went out thismorning with four or five men. "

"Rexhill's here, ain't he?" Trowbridge asked then. "Tell him there's twogentlemen here to see him. Needn't mention any names. He doesn't knowme. "

When Santry, with the instinct of his breed, hitched his revolver to amore convenient position on his hip, Trowbridge reached out and took itaway from him. He dared not trust the old man in his present mood. Heintended to question the Senator, to probe him, perhaps to threaten him;but the time had not come to shoot him. 

"I'll keep this for you, Bill, " he said soothingly, and dropped theweapon into his coat pocket. "I'm going to take you up with me, for thesake of the effect of that face of yours, looking the way it does rightnow. But I'll do the talking, mind! It won't take long. We're going toact some, too. "

Their visit had no visible effect upon Rexhill, however, who was toomuch master of himself to be caught off his guard in a game which hadreached the point of constant surprise. His manner was not conciliatory, for the meeting was frankly hostile, but he did not appear to beperturbed by it. He had not supposed that the extremes he had sanctionedcould be carried through without difficulty, and he was prepared to meetany attack that might be offered by the enemy. 

"Senator Rexhill, " Trowbridge introduced himself, "you've never met me. I'm from the Piah Creek country. My name is Trowbridge. "

"Yes, " the Senator nodded. "I've heard of you. I know your friend thereby sight. " He lingered slightly over the word "friend" as he glancedtoward Santry, "There's a warrant out for him, I believe. "

"Yes. There's a warrant out for one of your--friends, too, Tug Bailey, "Trowbridge retorted dryly, hoping that something would eventuate fromhis _repartee_; but nothing did. If the news surprised Rexhill, as itmust have, he did not show it. "I've just sworn it out, " the ranchercontinued, "but that's not why I'm here. I'm here to tell you thatGordon Wade, whom you know, has been kidnaped. "

Santry stifled an exclamation of rage in answer to a quick look from hisfriend. 

"Kidnaped from his own range in broad daylight, " the latter went on. "Irepresent his friends, who mean to find him right away, and it hasoccurred to me that you may be able to assist us in our search. "

"Just why has that idea occurred to you?" Rexhill asked calmly, asthough out of mere curiosity. "I'd like to know. "

A bit baffled by this attitude of composure, Trowbridge hesitated, forit was not at all what he had expected to combat. If the Senator hadflown into a passion, the cattleman would have responded with equalheat; now he was less sure of himself and his ground. It was barelypossible, after all, that Tug Bailey had shot Jensen out of personalspite; or, at the worst, had been the tool of Moran alone. One couldhardly associate the thought of murder with the very prosperous lookinggentleman, who so calmly faced them and twirled his eyeglasses betweenhis fingers. 

"Why should that idea have occurred to you?" the Senator asked again. "So far as I am informed, Wade is also liable to arrest for complicityin the Jensen murder; in addition to which he has effected a jaildelivery and burglarized my office. It seems to me, if he has beenkidnaped as you say, that I am the last person to have any interest inhis welfare, or his whereabouts. Why do you come to me?"

This was too much for Santry's self-restraint. 

"What's the use of talkin' to him?" he demanded. "If he ain't done ithimself, don't we know that Moran done it for him? To hell withtalkin'!" He shook a gnarled fist at Rexhill, who paid no attentionwhatever to him, but deliberately looked in another direction. 

"That is why we are here, " said Trowbridge, when he had quieted Santryonce more. "Because we have good reason to believe that, if these actsdo not proceed from you, they do proceed from your agent, and you'reresponsible for what he does, if I know anything about law. This manMoran has carried things with a high hand in this community, but nowhe's come to the end of his rope, and he's going to be punished. Thatmeans that you'll get yours, too, if he's acted under your orders. " Thecattleman was getting into his stride now that the first moments of hisembarrassment were passed. His voice rang with authority, which theSenator was quick to recognize, although he gave no evidence that he wasimpressed. "Has Moran been acting for you, that's what we want to know?"

"My dear fellow, "--Rexhill laughed rumblingly, --"if you'll only stop foran instant to think, you'll see how absurd this is. "

"A frank answer to a frank question, " Trowbridge persisted. "Has hebeen acting for you? Do you, at this moment, know what has become ofWade, or where he is?"

"That's the stuff!" growled Santry, whose temples were throbbing underthe effort he put forth to hold himself within bounds. 

"I do not!" the Senator said, bluntly. "And I'll say freely that I wouldnot tell you if I did. "

Santry's hands opened and shut convulsively. He was in the act ofspringing upon Rexhill when Trowbridge seized him. 

"You're a liar!" he roared, struggling in his friend's grasp. "Let me athim. By the great horned toad, I'll make him tell!"

"Put that man out of this room!" Rexhill had arisen in all of hisponderous majesty, roused to wrath at last. His pudgy finger shook as hepointed to the door, and his fat face was congested. "I'm not here to beinsulted by a jail-bird. Put him out!"

Trowbridge's eyes gleamed exultantly, although he still kept a tighthold on Santry, for this was the sort of thing he had expected to meet. He had not thought that Rexhill would confess complicity in thekidnaping this early in the game; but he had looked for an outburst ofanger which would give him the chance he wanted to free his own mind ofthe hate that was in it. He had wanted the chance to make Rexhill feelthat his hour of atonement was close at hand, and getting nearer everyminute. 

"Easy, now!" he admonished. "We're going, both of us, but we won't beput out. You've said just what I looked for you to say. You've deniedknowledge of this thing. I think with Santry here that you're a liar, aGod-forsaken liar. " He drew closer to the Senator, who seemed about toburst with passion, and held him with a gaze his fury could not daunt. "May Heaven help you, Senator, when we're ready to prove all thisagainst you. If you're in Crawling Water then, we'll ride you to hell ona rail. "

"Now, " Trowbridge said to Santry, when they were downstairs again, "youget out of town hot-foot. Ride to my place. Take this!" He scribbled afew lines on the back of an envelope. "Give it to my foreman. Tell himto meet me with the boys where the trail divides. We'll find Wade, if wehave to trade our beds for lanterns and kill every horse in the valley. "

The two men shook hands, and Santry's eyes were fired with a new hope. The old man was grateful for one thing, at least: the time for actionhad arrived. He had spent his youth on the plains in the days when everyman was a law unto himself, and the years had not lessened his spirit. 

"I'll be right after you, Bill, " Trowbridge concluded. "I'm going firstto break the news to Miss Purnell. She'd hear it anyway and be anxious. She'd better get it straight from me. "

Lem Trowbridge had seen only one woman faint, but the recollection wasindelibly impressed upon his mind. It had happened in his boyhood, atthe ranch where he still lived, when a messenger had arrived with wordof the death of the elder Trowbridge, whose horse had stepped into aprairie-dog hole and fallen with his rider. The picture of his mother'scollapse he could never forget, or his own horrible thought that she, too, had passed away, leaving him parentless. For months afterwards hehad awakened at night, crying out that she was dead. 

The whole scene recurred to him when he told Dorothy of Wade'sdisappearance, and saw her face flush and then pale, as his mother's haddone. The girl did not actually faint, for she was young and wonderfullystrong, but she came so near to it that he was obliged to support herwith his arm to keep her on her feet. That was cruel, too, for he lovedher. But presently she recovered, and swept from his mind all thought ofhimself by her piteous appeal to him to go instantly in search of Wade. 

"We'll find him, Dorothy, don't you worry, " he declared, with anappearance of confidence he was far from feeling. "I came around to tellyou myself because I wanted you to know that we are right on the job. "

"But how can you find him in all those mountains, Lem? You don't evenknow which side of the range they've hidden him on. "

He reminded her that he had been born in Crawling Water Valley, and thathe knew every draw and canyon in the mountains; but in his heart herealized that to search all these places would take half a lifetime. Hecould only hope that chance, or good fortune, might lead them promptlyto the spot they sought. 

"Do you think that Senator Rexhill knows where Gordon is?" she asked. "Is he in this, too?"

"I don't know for sure, " he answered. "I believe Moran is acting underRexhill's orders, but I don't know how much Rexhill knows of thedetails. If I knew that, it would be fairly easy. I'd. .. . " His stronghands gripped the back of a chair until his knuckles showed white undertheir tan. "I'd choke it out of him!"

"Oh, if there was only something I could do!" Dorothy wailed helplessly. "A woman never can do anything in a crisis but _wait_!" Her distress wasso pitiable to witness that Trowbridge averted his gaze. 

"We'll do all that can be done, Dorothy, " he assured her. "Trust me forthat. Besides--" A thought had just flashed into his head which mightrelieve her sense of helplessness. "Besides, we're going to need youhere in town to keep us informed of what goes on. "

"If I learn anything, how can I get word to you?" she asked, her facebrightening somewhat. "You'll be up in the hills. "

"I'll try to keep a man at the big pine all the time. If you find outanything send word to him. "

"Oh, yes, I will, I will. That'll be something anyhow. " Her eyessparkling with tears, she gave him both her hands. "Good-by, Lem!"

"Good-by, Dorothy, " he said solemnly, wringing her hands. "I know justhow it is. We'll find him for you!"

CHAPTER XVI

TRAPPED

When Wade first opened his eyes, after he had been stricken senseless, he was first conscious of his throbbing head, and on seeking the reasonof the pain, was amazed to find his fingers stained with the blood whichmatted his hair. With an exclamation he struggled to his feet, still toodazed to think clearly, but sufficiently aroused to be startled by thepredicament in which he found himself. 

He was at the bottom of a rock-walled fissure, about six feet wide bytwenty feet in length. There was no way to climb out of this naturalprison, for its granite sides, fifteen feet in height, were withoutcrack, projection, or other foothold; indeed, in the light of theafternoon sun, one _façade_ shone smooth as glass. If he should be leftthere without sustenance, he told himself, he might as well be entombed;then, to his delight, he caught the sound of splashing water. At least, he would not perish of thirst, for at one end of the rocky chamber atiny stream fell down the face of the cliff, to disappear afterwardthrough a narrow cleft. A draught of the cool water refreshed himsomewhat, and when he had bathed his head as well as he could, he satdown on the warm sand to think over the situation. 

Now that his brain was clearing he felt sure that his capture was thework of Moran, doubtless planned as a revenge for the events of theirlast meeting, although what shape this revenge was to take the cattlemancould not guess. He feared that he would either be shot or left tostarve in this _cul-de-sac_ in the hills. The thought of all that he andhis friends had suffered through Moran lashed the ranchman temporarilyto fury; but that he soon controlled as well as he could, for he foundits only result was to increase the pain in his head, without aiding tosolve the problem of escape. The prospect of getting out of his prisonseemed remote, for one glance at its precipitate walls had shown himthat not even a mountain goat could scale them. Help, if it came at all, must come through Santry, who could be counted on to arouse thecountryside. The thought of the state the old man must be in worriedWade; and he was too familiar with the vast number of small canyons andhidden pockets in the mountains to believe that his friends would soonfind him. Before help could reach him, undoubtedly Moran would show hishand, in which for the present were all the trumps. 

It was characteristic of the cattleman that, with the full realizationof his danger, should come a great calm. He had too lively animagination to be called a man of iron nerve, for that quality ofcourage is not so often a virtue as a lack of sensitiveness. He who iscourageous because he knows no fear is not so brave by half as he whogauges the extent of his peril and rises superior to it. Wade's couragewas of the latter sort, an ascendancy of the mind over the flesh. Whenever danger threatened him, his nerves responded to his need withthe precision of the taut strings of a perfectly tuned fiddle under amaster hand. He had been more nervous, many a time, over the thought ofsome one of his men riding a dangerous horse or turning a stampede, thanhe was now that his own life seemed threatened. 

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he rolled and smoked a cigarette. Theslight exhilaration of the smoke, acting on his weakened condition, together with the slight dizziness still remaining from the blow on hishead, was far from conducing to clear thinking, but he forced himself tocareful thought. He was less concerned about himself than he was aboutSantry and Dorothy; particularly Dorothy, for he had now come toappreciate how closely she had come into his life. Her sympathy had beenvery sweet to him, but he told himself that he would be sorry to haveher worry about him now, when there was so little chance of their seeingeach other again. He had no great hope of rescue. He expected to die, either by violence or by the slower process of starvation, but in eithercase he meant to meet his fate like a man. 

Of Helen Rexhill, he thought now with a sense of distaste. It wasaltogether unlikely that she had been privy to her father'sdepredations, but certainly she countenanced them by her presence inCrawling Water, and she had shown up so poorly in contrast with DorothyPurnell that Wade could not recall his former tenderness for his earlysweetheart. Even if great good fortune should enable him to escape fromhis prison, the interests of the Rexhill family were too far removedfrom his own to be ever again bridged by the tie of love, or even ofgood-feeling. He could not blame the daughter for the misdeeds of herparent, but the old sentiment could never be revived. It was not forHelen that the instinct of self-preservation stirred within him, nor wasit in her eyes that he would look for the light of joy over his rescue, if rescue should come. 

He smoked several cigarettes, until the waning of his supply of tobaccowarned him to economize against future cravings. Realizing that even ifhis friends were within a stone's throw of him they would not be likelyto find him unless he gave some sign of his presence, he got to his feetand, making a trumpet out of his hands, shouted loudly. He repeated thisa dozen times, or more, and was about to sink back upon the sand when heheard footsteps approaching on the ground overhead. He had little ideathat a friend was responding to his call, but being unarmed he could dono more than crouch against the wall of the cliff while he scanned theopening above him. 

Presently there appeared in the opening the head of a Texan, Goat Neale, whom Wade recognized as a member of Moran's crew and a man of some noteas a gunfighter. 

"How, " drawled the Texan, by way of greeting. "Feelin' pretty good?"When the ranchman did not reply, his inquisitor seemed amused. "A funnything like this here always makes me laff, " he remarked. "It sure doesme a heap of good to see you all corraled like a fly in a bottle. Mebbeyou'd take satisfaction in knowin' that it was me brung you down outyonder in the timber. I was sure mighty glad to take a wallop at you, after the way you all done us up that night at the ranch. "

"So I'm indebted to you for this, eh?" Wade spoke casually, as thoughthe matter were a trifling thing. He was wondering if he could bribeNeale to set him free. Unfortunately he had no cash about him, and heconcluded that the Texan would not think promises worth while under thecircumstances. 

"Sure. I reckon you'd like to see the boss? Well, he's comin' right onover. Just now he's eatin' a mess o' bacon and beans and cawfee, over tothe camp. My Gawd, that's good cawfee, too. Like to have some, eh?" ButWade refused to play Tantalus to the lure of this temptation and keptsilent. "Here he comes now. "

"Is he all right?" Wade heard Moran ask, as Neale backed away from therim of the hole. 

"Yep, " the Texan answered. 

The ranchman instinctively braced himself to meet whatever might befall. It was quite possible, he knew, that Moran had spared him in thetimber-belt to torture him here; he did not know whether to expect abullet or a tongue lashing, but he was resolved to meet his fatecourageously and, as far as was humanly possible, stoically. To hissurprise, the agent's tone did not reveal a great amount of venom. 

"Hello, Wade!" he greeted, as he looked down on his prisoner. "Find yourquarters pretty comfortable, eh? It's been a bit of a shock to you, nodoubt, but then shocks seem to be in order in Crawling Water Valley justnow. "

"Moran, I've lived in this country a good many years. " Wade spoke with asuavity which would have indicated deadly peril to the other had the twobeen on anything like equal terms. "I've seen a good many blackguardscome and go in that time, but the worst of them was redeemed by more ofthe spark of manhood than there seems to be in you. "

"Is that so?" Moran's face darkened in swift anger, but he restrainedhimself. "Well, we'll pass up the pleasantries until after our businessis done. You and I've got a few old scores to settle and you won't findme backward when the times comes, my boy. It isn't time yet, althoughmaybe the time isn't so very far away. Now, see here. " He leaned overthe edge of the cliff to display a folded paper and a fountain-pen. "Ihave here a quit-claim deed to your ranch, fully made out and legallywitnessed, needing only your signature to make it valid. Will you signit?"

Wade started in spite of himself. This idea was so preposterous that ithad never occurred to him as the real motive for his capture. He couldscarcely believe that so good a lawyer as Senator Rexhill could be blindto the fact that such a paper, secured under duress, would have novalidity under the law. He looked up at the agent in amazement. 

"I know what you're thinking, of course, " Moran went on, with an evilsmile. "We're no fools. I've got here, besides the deed, a check madeout to you for ten thousand dollars. " He held it up. "You'll rememberthat we made you that offer once before. You turned it down then, butmaybe you'll change your mind now. After you indorse the check I'lldeposit it to your credit in the local bank. "

The cattleman's face fell as he caught the drift of this complication. That ten thousand dollars represented only a small part of the value ofhis property was true, but many another man had sold property for lessthan it was worth. If a perfectly good check for ten thousand dollars, bearing his indorsement, were deposited to the credit of his bankingaccount, the fact would go far to offset any charge of duress that hemight later bring. To suppose that he had undervalued his holdings wouldbe no more unreasonable than to suppose that a man of Senator Rexhill'sprominence would stoop to physical coercion of an adversary. Thequestion would merely be one of personal probity, with the presumptionon the Senator's side. 

"Once we get a title to the land, a handle to fight with, we sha'n'tcare what you try to do, " Moran explained further. "We can afford tolaugh at you. " That seemed to Wade to be true. "If you accept my offernow, I will set you free as soon as this check is in the bank, and thesettlement of our personal scores can go over to another time. I assureyou that I am just as anxious to get at you as you are to get at me, butI've always made it a rule never to mix pleasure and business. You'llhave a fair start to get away. On the other hand, if you refuse, you'llbe left here without food. Once each day I'll visit you; at other timesyou'll be left alone, except when Goat may care to entertain himself bybaiting you. You'll be perfectly safe here, guard or no guard, believeme. "

Moran chuckled ominously, his thoughts divided between professionalpride, excited by the thought of successfully completing the work he hadcome to Crawling Water to do, and exultation at the prospect that hissufferings while gagged the previous night might be atoned for athousand times if Wade should refuse to sign the quit-claim. 

"In plain speech, " said Wade, pale but calm, "you propose to starve meto death. "

"Exactly, " was the cheerful assurance. "If I were you, I'd think a bitbefore answering. "

Because the cattleman was in the fullest flush of physical vigor, thelust of life was strong in him. Never doubting that Moran meant what hesaid, Wade was on the point of compliance, thinking to assume the burdenlater on, of a struggle with Rexhill to regain his ranch. His manhoodrebelled at the idea of coercion, but, dead, he could certainly notdefend himself; it seemed to him better that he should live to carry onthe fight. He would most likely have yielded but for the taunt ofcowardice which had already been noised about Crawling Water. True, thecharge had sprung from those who liked him least, but it had stung him. He was no coward, and he would not feed such a report now by yielding toMoran. Whatever the outcome of a later fight might be, the fact that hehad knuckled under to the agent could never be lived down. Such successas he had won had been achieved by playing a man's part in man's world. 

"I'll tell you what I'll do, Moran, " he said, finally. "Give me a handout of this hole, or come down here yourself. Throw aside your gun, butkeep your knife. I'll allow you that advantage. Meet me face to face!Damn you, be a man! Anything that you can gain by my signature, you cangain by my death. Get the best of me, if you can, in a man's fight. Pah!" He spat contemptuously. "You're a coward, Moran, a white-liveredcoward! You don't dare fight with me on anything like equal terms. I'llget out of here somehow, and when I do--by Heaven, I'll corner you, andI'll make you fight. "

"Get out? How?" Moran laughed the idea to scorn. "Your friends can lookfor you from now till snowfall. They'll never find even your bones. Rotthere, if you choose. Why should I take a chance on you when I've gotyou where I want you? You ought to die. You know too much. "

"Yes, " Wade retorted grimly. "I know too much. I know enough to hangyou, you murderer. Who killed Oscar Jensen? Answer that! You did it, oryou had it done, and then you tried to put it on Santry and me, and I'mnot the only one who knows it. This country's too small to hold you, Moran. Your fate is settled already, whatever may happen to me. "

"Still, I seem to be holding four aces now, " Moran grinned back at him. "And the cards are stacked. "

Left alone, Wade rolled himself a cigarette from his scant hoard oftobacco. Already he was hungry, for deep shadows in his prison markedthe approach of night, and he had the appetite of a healthy man. Theknowledge that he was to be denied food made him feel the hungrier, until he resolutely put the thought of eating out of his mind. Thewater, trickling down the face of the rock, was a God-send, though, andhe drank frequently from the little stream. 

By habit a heavy smoker, he viewed with dismay the inroads which he hadalready made on his store of tobacco for that deprivation he felt wouldbe the most real of any that he could suffer. He tried to take shorterpuffs upon his cigarette, and between them shielded the fire with hishand, so that the air-draughts in the fissure might not cheat him of anyof the smoke. He figured that he had scarcely enough tobacco left for adozen cigarettes, which was less than his usual daily allowance. 

On searching his pockets, in the hope of finding a second sack ofDurham, he chanced upon his clasp-knife, and viewed the find with joy. The thought of using it as a weapon did not impress him, for his captorswould keep out of reach of such a toy, but he concluded that he mightpossibly use it to carve some sort of foothold in the rock. The idea ofcutting the granite was out of the question, but there might be strataof softer stone which he could dig into. It was a forlorn hope, in aforlorn cause, and it proved futile. At his first effort the knife'ssingle blade snapped off short, and he threw the useless handle away. 

Darkness fell some time before the cool night air penetrated thefissure; when it did so the cold seemed likely to be added to his otherphysical discomforts. In the higher altitudes the nights were distinctlychilly even in mid-summer, and he had on only a light outing shirt, above his waist. As the hour grew late, the cold increased in severityuntil Wade was forced to walk up and down his narrow prison in theeffort to keep warm. He had just turned to retrace his steps, on onesuch occasion, when his ears caught the soft pat-pat of a footfall onthe ground above. He instantly became motionless and tensely alert, wondering which of his enemies was so stealthily returning, and for whatreason. 

He thought it not unlikely that Moran had altered his purpose and comeback to shoot him while he slept. Brave though he was, the idea of beingshot down in such a manner made his flesh crawl. Stooping, he picked upa fragment of rock; although he realized the futility of the weapon, itwas all he had. Certainly, whoever approached was moving with the utmoststealth, which argued an attack of some kind. Drawing back the hand thatheld the stone, the cattleman shrank into a corner of the fissure andwaited. Against the starlit sky, he had an excellent view of the openingabove him, and possibly by a lucky throw the stone would serve againstone assailant, at least. 

The pat-pat-pat drew nearer and stopped, at last, on the extreme edgeof the hole. A low, long-drawn sniff showed that this was no humanenemy. If the sound had been louder, Wade would have guessed that it wasmade by a bear; but as it was he guessed the prowler to be amountain-lion. He had little fear of such a beast; most of them werenotorious cowards unless cornered, and when presently a pair of glowingeyes peered down into the fissure, he hurled the stone at them with allhis might. His aim was evidently true, for with a snarl of pain theanimal drew back. 

But just as amongst the most pacific human races there are some bravespirits, so amongst the American lions there are a few which possess allthe courage of their jungle brothers. Actuated by overweening curiosity, or else by a thirst for blood, the big cat returned again and again tothe edge of the hole. After his first throw Wade was unable to hit thebeast with a stone, although his efforts had the temporary effect offrightening it. Gradually, however, it grew bolder, and was restrainedfrom springing upon him only, as it seemed, by some sixth sense whichwarned it of the impossibility of getting out of the fissure after oncegetting in. Baffled and furious, the lion sniffed and prowled about therim of the hole until the ranchman began to think it would surely leapupon him. 

He picked up his broken pocket-knife and waited for this to happen. Theshattered blade would be of little use, but it might prove better thanhis bare hands if he had to defend himself against the brute's teeth andclaws. 

CHAPTER XVII

A WAR OF WITS

"Kidnaped? Gordon Wade?"

At Dorothy's announcement, Mrs. Purnell sank, with a gasp, into herrocking-chair, astonished beyond expression. She listened, with anxietyscarce less than her daughter's, to the girl's account of the event asshe had it from Trowbridge. Her mouth opened and shut aimlessly as shepicked at her gingham apron. If Wade had been her own son, she couldhardly have loved him more. He had been as tender to her as a son, andthe news of his disappearance and probable injury was a frightful shock. 

Weakly she attempted to relieve her own anxiety by disputing the fact ofhis danger. 

"Oh, I guess nothing's happened to him--nothing like that, anyway. Hemay have had a fall from his horse. Or maybe it broke away from him andran off. "

"Bill Santry found their trail, " Dorothy said, with a gesture so tragicthat it wrung her mother's heart strings. "He followed it as far as hecould, then lost it. " In any other case she would have tried to keep thebad news from her mother, because of her nerves, but just now the girlwas too distraught to think of any one but the man she loved. "Oh, if Icould only do something myself, " she burst out. "It's staying here, helpless, that is killing me. I wish I'd gone with Lem up into themountains. I would have if he hadn't said I might better stay in town. But how can I help? There's nothing to do here. "

"The idea!" Mrs. Purnell exclaimed. "They'll be out all night. How couldyou have gone with them? I don't believe Gordon has been kidnaped atall. It's a false alarm, I tell you. Who could have done such a thing?"

"Who?" The question broke Dorothy's patience. "Who's done everythingthat's abominable and contemptible lately here in Crawling Water? ThatMoran did it, of course, with Senator Rexhill behind him. Oh!"

"Nonsense!" said her mother, indignantly. 

"Lem Trowbridge thinks so. Nearly everybody does. "

"Then he hasn't as good sense as I thought he had. " Mrs. Purnell aroseand moved toward the kitchen. "You come on and help me make some wafflesfor supper. Perhaps that will take such foolishness out of your head. The idea of a Senator of the United States going about kidnapingpeople. "

Dorothy obeyed her mother's wish, but not very ably. Her face wasflushed and her eyes hot; ordinarily she was a splendid housekeeper anda dutiful daughter, but there are limits to human endurance. She mixedthe batter so clumsily and with such prodigal waste that her mother hadto stop her, and she was about to put salt into the sugar bowl whenMrs. Purnell snatched it out of her hands. "Go into the dining-room andsit down, Dorothy, " she exclaimed. "You're beside yourself. " It isfrequently the way with people, who are getting on in years and aresick, to charge their own shortcomings on any one who may be near. Mrs. Purnell was greatly worried. 

"What's the matter now?" she demanded, when Dorothy left her supperuntasted on her plate. 

"I was thinking. "

"Well, can't you tell a body what you're thinking about? What are yousitting there that way for?"

"I was wondering, " said Dorothy in despair, "if Helen Rexhill knowswhere Gordon is. "

Mrs. Purnell snorted in disdain. 

"Land's sakes, child, what put that into your head? Drink your tea. It'll do you good. "

"Why shouldn't she know, if her father does?" The girl pushed hertea-cup farther away from her. "She wouldn't have come all the way outhere with him--he wouldn't have brought her with him--if they weren'tworking together. She must know. But I don't see why. .. . "

"Dorothy Purnell, I declare to goodness, I believe you're going crazy. "Mrs. Purnell dropped her fork. "All this about Gordon is bad enoughwithout my being worried so. .. . "

"I'd even give him up to her, if she'd tell me that. " Dorothy's voicewas unsteady, and she seemed to be talking to herself rather than to hermother. "I know she thinks I've come between her and Gordon, but Ihaven't meant to. He's just seemed to like me better; that's all. ButI'd do anything to save him from Moran. "

"I should say that you might better wait until he asks you, before youtalk of giving him up to somebody. " Mrs. Purnell spoke with the primnessthat was to be expected, but her daughter made no reply. She had nevermentioned the night in Moran's office, and her mother knew nothing ofWade's kiss. But to the girl it had meant more than any declaration inwords. She had kept her lips inviolate until that moment, and when hiskiss had fallen upon them it had fallen upon virgin soil, from out ofwhich had bloomed a white flower of passion. Before then she had lookedupon Wade as a warm friend, but since that night he had appeared to herin another guise; that of a lover, who has come into his own. She hadmet him then, a girl, and had left him a woman, and she felt that whathe had established as a fact in the one rare moment of his kiss, belonged to him and her. It seemed so wholly theirs that she had notbeen able to bring herself to discuss it with her mother. She had won itfairly, and she treasured it. The thought of giving him up to HelenRexhill, of promising her never to see Wade again, was overwhelming, andwas to be considered only as a last resource, but there was no sufferingthat she would not undertake for his sake. 

Mrs. Purnell was as keenly alive as ever to the hope that the youngranch owner might some day incline toward her little girl, but she wassensitive also to the impression which the Rexhills had made upon her. Her life with Mr. Purnell had not brought her many luxuries, and perhapsshe over-valued their importance. She thought Miss Rexhill a mostimposing young woman and she believed in the impeccability of thewell-to-do. Her heart was still warmed by the memory of the courtesywith which she had been treated by the Senator's daughter, and was notwithout the gratification of feeling that it had been a tribute to herown worth. She had scolded Dorothy afterward for her frank speech toMiss Rexhill at the hotel, and she felt that further slurs on her wereuncalled for. 

"I'm sure that Miss Rexhill treated us as a lady should, " she saidtartly. "She acted more like one than you did, if I do have to say it. She was as kind and sweet as could be. She's got a tender heart. I couldsee that when she up and gave me that blotter, just because I remarkedthat it reminded me of your childhood. "

"Oh, that old blotter!" Dorothy exclaimed petulantly. "What did itamount to? You talk as though it were something worth having. " She wasso seldom in a pet that her mother now strove to make allowance for her. 

"I'm not saying that it's of any value, Dorothy, except to me; but itwas kind of her to seem to understand why I wanted it. "

"It wasn't kind of her. She just did it to get rid of us, because webored her. Oh, mother, you're daffy about the Rexhills, why not admit itand be done with it? You think they're perfect, but I tell you they'renot--they're not! They've been behind all our troubles here. They've. .. . " Her voice broke under the stress of her emotion and sherose to her feet. 

"Dorothy, if you have no self-respect, at least have some. .. . "

"I won't have that blotter in the house. " The strain was proving morethan the girl's nerves could stand. "I won't hear about it any longer. I'm going to--to tear it up!"

"Dorothy!"

For all the good that Mrs. Purnell's tone of authority did, it might aswell have fallen upon the wind. She hastily followed her daughter, whohad rushed from the room, and overtook her just in time to prevent herfrom destroying the little picture. Her own strength could not havesufficed to deter the girl in her purpose, if the latter had notrealized in her heart the shameful way in which she was treating hermother. 

"Aren't you ashamed of yourself, child? Look in that glass at your face!No wonder you don't think you look like the sweet child in the picture. You don't look like her now, nor act like her. That was why I wanted theblotter, to remind me of the way you used to look. "

"I'm sorry, mother. "

Blushing deeply as she recovered her self-control, Dorothy stole aglance at her reflection in the looking-glass of the bureau, beforewhich she stood, and shyly contrasted her angry expression ofcountenance with the sweet one of the child on the blotter. Suddenlyshe started, and leaned toward the mirror, staring at something she sawthere. The blood seemed driven from the surface of her skin; her lipswere parted; her eyes dilated. She drew a swift breath of amazedexultation, and turned to her mother, who had viewed the suddentransformation with surprise. 

"I'll be back soon, mother. I can't tell you what it is. " Dorothy'svoice rang with the suggestion of victory. "But I've discoveredsomething, wonderful!"

Before Mrs. Purnell could adjust herself to this new mood, the girl wasdown the stairs and running toward the little barn. Slipping the bridleon her pony, she swung to its back without thought of a saddle, andturned the willing creature into the street. As she passed the house, she waved her hand to her mother, at the window, and vanished like aspecter into the night. 

"Oh, hurry, Gypsy, hurry!" she breathed into the pony's twitching ear. 

Her way was not far, for she was going first to the hotel, but thatother way, into the mountains after Gordon, would be a long journey, andno time could be wasted now. She was going to see Helen Rexhill, not asa suppliant bearing the olive branch, but as a champion to wage battlein behalf of the missing ranchman. She no longer thought of giving himup, and the knowledge that she might now keep the love which she had wonfor her very own made her reel on the pony's back from pure joy. She washis as he was hers, but the Rexhills were his enemies: she knew thatpositively now, and she meant to defeat them at their own game. If theywould tell her where Gordon was, they might go free for all she cared;if they would not, she would give them over to the vengeance of CrawlingWater, and she would not worry about what might happen to them. Meanwhile she thanked her lucky stars that Trowbridge had promised tokeep a man at the big pine. 

She tied her pony at the hitching-rack in front of the hotel and enteredthe office. Like most of the men in the town, the proprietor was herardent admirer, but he had never seen her before in such radiant mood. He took his cigar from between his lips, and doffed his Stetson hat, which he wore indoors and out, with elaborate grace. 

"Yes, Miss, Miss Rexhill's in, up in the parlor, I think. Would you likeme to step up and let her know you're here?"

"No, thank you, I'll go right up myself, " said Dorothy; her smile doublycharming because of its suggestion of triumph. 

Miss Rexhill, entirely unaware of what was brewing for her, wasembroidering by the flickering light of one of the big oil lamps, withher back to the doorway, and so did not immediately note Dorothy'spresence in the room. Her face flushed with annoyance and she arose, when she recognized her visitor. 

"You will please pardon me, but I do not care to receive you, " she saidprimly. 

This beginning, natural enough from Helen's standpoint, after what herfather had told her in Moran's office, convinced Dorothy that she hadread the writing on the blotter correctly. She held her ground, aggressively, between Miss Rexhill and the door. 

"You must hear what I have to say to you, " she declared quietly. "I havenot come here to make a social call. "

"Isn't it enough for me to tell you that I do not wish to talk to you?"Helen lifted her brows and shrugged her shoulders. "Surely, it should beenough. Will you please stand aside so that I may go to my room?"

"No, I won't! You can't go until you've heard what I've got to say. "Stung by the other woman's contemptuous tone, and realizing that thesituation put her at a social disadvantage, Dorothy forced an aggressivetone into her voice, ugly to the ear. 

"Very well!" Miss Rexhill shrugged her shoulders disdainfully, andresumed her seat. "We must not engage in a vulgar row. Since I mustlisten to you, I must, but at least I need not talk to you, and Iwon't. "

"You know that Gordon Wade has disappeared?" Helen made no response tothis, and Dorothy bit her lip in anger. "I know that you know it, " shecontinued. "I know that you know where he is. Perhaps, however, youdon't know that his life is in danger. If you will tell me where he is, I can save him. Will you tell me?" The low throaty note of suffering inher voice brought a stiletto-like flash into the eyes of the otherwoman, but no response. 

"Miss Rexhill, " Dorothy went on, after a short pause. "You and Mr. Wadewere friends once, if you are not now. Perhaps you don't realize justhow serious the situation is here in this town, where nearly everybodylikes him, and what would happen to you and your father, if I told whatI know about you. I don't believe he would want it to happen, even afterthe way you've treated him. If you will only tell me. .. . "

Helen turned abruptly in her chair, her face white with anger. 

"I said that I would not talk to you, " she burst out, "but yourimpertinence is so--so insufferable--so absolutely insufferable, that Imust speak. You say you will tell people what you know about me. What _do_you know about me?" She arose to face Dorothy, with blazing eyes. 

"I am sure that you know where Gordon is. "

"You are sure of nothing of the kind. I do not know where Mr. Wade is, and why should I tell you if I did? Suppose I were to tell what I knowabout you? I don't believe the whole of it is known in Crawling Wateryet. You--you must be insane. "

"About me?" Dorothy's surprise was genuine. "There is nothing you couldtell any one about me. "

Miss Rexhill laughed scornfully, a low, withering laugh that brought aflush to the girl's cheeks, even though her conscience told her that shehad nothing to be ashamed of. Dorothy stared at the other woman withwide-open, puzzled eyes, diverted for the moment from her own purpose. 

"At least, you need not expect me to help you, " Helen said acidulously. "I have my own feelings. I respected Mr. Wade at one time and valued hisfriendship. You have taken from me my respect for him, and you havetaken from him his self-respect. Quite likely you had no respect foryourself, and so you had nothing to lose. But if you'll stop toconsider, you may see how impertinent you are to appeal to me sobrazenly. "

"What are you talking about?" Dorothy's eyes, too, were blazing now, butmore in championship of Wade than of herself. She still did not fullyunderstand the drift of what Miss Rexhill had said. 

"Really, you are almost amusing. " Helen looked at her throughhalf-closed lids. "You are quite freakish. I suppose you must be a moraldegenerate, or something of the sort. " She waited for the insult to sinkin, but Dorothy was fairly dazed and bewildered. "Do you want me to callthings by their true names?"

"Yes, " answered Dorothy, "I do. Tell me what you are talking about. "

"I don't mind, I'm sure. Plain speaking has never bothered me. It's thedeed that's horrible, not the name. You were found in Mr. Moran's officewith Mr. Wade, late at night, misbehaving yourself. Do you dare to comenow to me and. .. . "

"That is not true!" The denial came from Dorothy with an intensity thatwould have carried conviction to any person less infuriated than thewoman who faced her. "Oh!" Dorothy raised her hands to her throat asthough struggling for breath. "I never dreamed you meant that. It's adeliberate lie!"

In the grip of their emotions, neither of the girls had noticed theentrance of Senator Rexhill. Helen saw him first and dramaticallypointed to him. 

"There is my father. Ask him!"

"I do not need to ask him what I've done. " Dorothy felt as though shewould suffocate. "No one would believe that story of Gordon, whateverthey might think of me. "

"Ask me? Ask me what?" the Senator nervously demanded. He had in hispocket a telegram just received from Washington, stating that thecavalry would be sent from Fort Mackenzie only at the request of theGovernor of Wyoming. The Governor was not at all likely to make such arequest, and Rexhill was more worried than he had been before, in years. He could only hope that Tug Bailey would escape capture. "Who is this?"He put on his glasses, and deliberately looked Dorothy over. "Oh, it'sthe young woman whom Race found in his office. "

"She has come here to plead for Gordon Wade--to demand that I tell herwhere he is now. I don't know, of course; none of us know; but Iwouldn't tell her if I did. " Helen spoke triumphantly. 

"You had better leave us, " Rexhill said brusquely to Dorothy. "You arenot wanted here. Go home!"

While they were talking, Dorothy had looked from one to the other withthe contempt which a good woman naturally feels when she is impugned. Now she crossed the room and confronted the Senator. 

"Did you tell your daughter that I was caught in your office with GordonWade?" she demanded; and before her steady gaze Rexhill winced. 

"You don't deny it, do you?" he blustered. 

"I don't deny being there with him, and I won't deny anything else tosuch a man as you. I'm too proud to. For your own sake, however, youwould have done better not to have tried to blacken me. " She turnedswiftly to his daughter. "Perhaps you don't know all that I supposed youdid. We were in Moran's office--Mr. Wade and myself--because we feltsure that your father had some criminal purpose here in Crawling Water. We were right. We found papers showing the location of gold on Mr. Wade's ranch, which showed your father's reasons for trying to seize theland. "

Helen laughed scornfully. 

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

"No, of course not, " her father growled. "Come on up to our rooms. Lether preach here until she is put out. " He was on his way to the doorwhen the vibrant command in Dorothy's voice halted him. 

"Wait. You'd better listen to me, for it's the last chance you'll have. I have you absolutely at my mercy. I've caught you! You are trapped!"There was no doubting that the girl believed what she said, and theSenator's affairs were in a sufficiently precarious state to bid himpause. 

"Nonsense!" He made his own tone as unconcerned as he could, but therewas a look of haunting dread in his eyes. 

"Senator Rexhill, "--Dorothy's voice was low, but there was a quality init which thrilled her hearers, --"when my mother and I visited yourdaughter a few days ago, she gave my mother a blotter. There was apicture on it that reminded my mother of me as a child; that was why shewanted it. It has been on my mother's bureau ever since. I never noticedanything curious about it until this evening. " She looked, with a quietsmile at Helen. "Probably you forgot that you had just blotted a letterwith it. "

Helen started and went pale, but not so pale as her father, who went sochalk-white that the wrinkles in his skin looked like make-up, againstits pallor. 

"I was holding that blotter before the looking-glass this evening, "Dorothy continued, in the same low tone, "and I saw that the ink hadtransferred to the blotter a part of what you had written. I read it. Itwas this: 'Father knew Santry had not killed Jensen. .. . '"

The Senator moistened his lips with his tongue and strove to chuckle, but the effort was a failure. Helen, however, appeared much relieved. 

"I remember now, " she said, "and I am well repaid for my moment ofsentiment. I was writing to my mother and was telling her of a scenethat had just taken place between Mr. Wade and my father. I did notwrite what you read; rather, it was not all that I wrote. Isaid--'Gordon thought that father knew Santry had not killed Jensen. '"

"Have you posted that letter?" her father asked, repressing as well ashe could his show of eagerness. 

"No. I thought better about sending it. I have it upstairs. "

"If you hadn't it, of course you could write it again, in any shape youchose, " Dorothy observed crisply, though she recognized, plainly enough, that the explanation was at least plausible. 

"There is nothing in that, " Rexhill declared, when he had taken a deepbreath of relief. "Your championship of Wade is running away with you. What other--er!--grave charges have you to bring against me?"

"I have one that is much more grave, " she retorted, so promptly that hecould not conceal a fresh start of uneasiness. "This morning, Mr. Trowbridge and I were out for a ride. We rode over to the place whereJensen was shot, and Mr. Trowbridge found there a cartridge shell whichfits only one gun in Crawling Water. That gun belongs to a man named TugBailey. "

By now Rexhill was thoroughly aroused, for although he was too good ajurist not to see the flaws in so incomplete a fabric of evidenceagainst him, he was impressed with the influence such a story wouldexert on public opinion. If possible, this girl's tongue must bestopped. 

"Pooh!" He made a fine show of indifference. "Why bring such tales tome? You'd make a very poor lawyer, young woman, if you think that suchrumors will serve to impeach a man of my standing. "

"There is a warrant out for Bailey, " Dorothy went on quietly. "If he iscaught, and I choose to make public what I know and can guess, I amsure that you will never reach a court. You underestimate the peoplehere. I would not have to prove what I have told you. I need only toproclaim it, and--I don't know what they'd do to you. It makes me a bitsick to think about it. "

The thought made the Senator sick, too, for of late he had seen thatthings were going very badly for him. He was prepared to temporize, butthere was no need for him to contemplate surrender, or flight, so longas Bailey remained at large. If the man were captured, and there waslikelihood of a confession being wrung from him, then most decidedlydiscretion would be the better part of valor. 

"Oh, of course, " he confessed, "I am willing to admit that in such acommunity as this you might make trouble, unjustly, for me and mydaughter. I am anxious to avoid that, because my interests are valuablehere and I have my daughter's safety to consider. "

"Don't think of me, " Helen interposed quickly. Above all fear forherself would be the shame of being beaten by Dorothy and of having hertriumph go to the making of Wade's happiness. The thought of thatappeared far worse to her mind than any physical suffering. "Do what youthink is right. We are not cowards. "

"But I must think of you, my dear. I am responsible to your mother. " Heturned to Dorothy again. "How much do you want?"

"How much? Oh!" She flushed hotly beneath the insult, but she chose toignore it. "There is only one price that will purchase my silence. Tellme where Mr. Wade is?"

"Bless my soul, I don't know. " The Senator affected a display of injuredinnocence, which sat oddly upon his harried countenance. "I am willingto do what I can to save trouble, but I can't do the impossible. "

For a moment, in a wretched slough of helplessness, Dorothy found herconviction wavering. Could it really be possible that he was speakingthe truth; that he did not know? But with the dreadful thought came alsothe realization that she must not let him fathom her mind. She toldherself that she must keep her countenance, and she did so. 

"There is not a man in Crawling Water who does not believe that RaceMoran is responsible for Mr. Wade's disappearance, " she declared. "Thatis another thing that you should consider, for it is one more link inthe chain of evidence--impressions, you may call them, but they will beaccepted as evidence by Wade's friends. "

Rexhill was considering it, and swiftly, in the light of the visit hehad had from Trowbridge. The cattleman had left him with a distinctfeeling that every word spoken had been meant. "If we can prove itagainst you, we'll ride you to hell on a rail. " The language wasmelodramatic, but it seemed very suggestive as the Senator called it tomind. He regretted that he had supported Moran in his lust for revenge. The lawless spirit of the West seemed to have poisoned his own blood, but somehow the feeling of indifference as to suffering personalviolence had been left out, and he realized that the West was no placefor him. 

"Even so, " he said pompously, "even if what you say of Moran shouldprove true, it does not follow that I know it, or am a party to it. RaceMoran is his own master. "

"He is your employee--your agent--and you are responsible for what hedoes in your behalf, " Dorothy retorted desperately. "Why do you bandywords with me like this? You may be able to do it with me, but don'tthink that you can do it with Mr. Trowbridge, and the others, if I tellthem what I know. I tell you, you can't. You feel safe before me alone, but you are in much greater danger than you think. You don't seem torealize that I am holding your lives in my hand. "

Helen's cheeks blanched at this. 

"I do realize it. " There was a slight quaver in the Senator's voice, although he tried to speak with easy grace. "I assure you, I do and Ishall be very grateful to you"--his anxiety was crowding out hisdiscretion--"if you will help me to save my daughter. .. . "

"I say just what I said before, " Helen interposed, courageous to thelast. There is, many times, in the woman a finer fiber of courage thanruns in the man. 

Dorothy regarded the Senator scornfully, her feminine intuition assuringher that he was weakening. She no longer doubted that he knew; she wascertain of it and happy to feel that she had only to press him harder towring the truth from him. 

"Grateful? For helping you? I am not trying to help you. You deserve anypunishment that could be inflicted upon you, I would say that, even ifyou had not insulted me and lied about me. You are an evil man. I amoffering you your safety, so far as I can grant, only for the sake ofMr. Wade. If it were not for him, I should not have come here at all. "

Her sense of approaching triumph had carried her a little too far. Itaroused Helen to bitter resentment, and when she began to speak Dorothywas sorry that she had not kept silent. 

"Father, don't do it!" Miss Rexhill burst out. "It is insufferable thatthis woman should threaten us so. I would rather run any risk, I don'tcare what, than give in to her. I won't tolerate such a thing. "

"You may be urging him to his death, " Dorothy warned her. "I will notstop at anything now. If I tell the cattlemen what I know they will gowild. I mean what I say, believe me!"

"I know you will not stop at anything. I have seen that, " Helenadmitted. "A woman who can do what you've already done. .. . "

"Helen!" The Senator was carrying with him a sense of gratitude towardDorothy, and in the light of her spirit he was a little ashamed of thepart he had played against her. "Let's try to forget what has past. Atleast, this young woman is offering us a chance. "

"Listen!" Dorothy cried out suddenly. 

Outside, in the street, a galloping horseman was shouting to some one ashe rode. The girl ran to the window and raised the shade to look out. The lusty voice of the horseman bore well into the room. "They've caughtBailey at Sheridan. He'll be here to-morrow. "

"Senator Rexhill, " said Dorothy, turning away from the window, "you'dbetter take the chance I've offered you, while you can. Do it for thesake of the old friendship between you and Gordon Wade, if for no otherreason. No matter how bitter he may feel toward you, he would not wantyou in Crawling Water when Tug Bailey confesses. It would be too awful. "She shuddered at the thought. "Tell me where he is and get out of townat once. "

"Bailey hasn't confessed yet, " Helen cut in gamely. 

"No; but he will, " Dorothy declared positively. "They'll put a ropearound his neck, and he'll confess. Such men always do. Try to rememberthe position you are in. You'd be sorry if your father were lynched. Gowith him, while you can. I know these people better than you do. "

The Senator swallowed hard and mopped his damp forehead with hishandkerchief. There was nothing to do but follow the girl's advice, andthat quickly, he knew. After all, in the face of death, financial ruinseemed a mere bagatelle. 

"So far as I have been informed, Wade is confined at Coyote Springs, somewhere in the mountains, " he said bluntly. "That's all I know of thematter. I hope you will find him all right there. He ought to be veryproud of you. "

Dorothy caught her hands to her breast in a little gesture ofexultation, and the expression on her face was a wonderful thing to see. 

"You'll go?"

"In the morning, " Senator Rexhill answered. 

Eager as Dorothy was to reach the big pine with her message, she couldnot leave without giving Helen such a glance of triumph as made herwince. 

Then, hurrying to her pony, she rode rapidly out of town into the blacknight which cloaked the trail leading to the pine. She knew that hermother would miss her and be anxious, but the minutes were too preciousnow to be wasted even on her mother. She did not know what peril Gordonmight be in, and her first duty was to him. She was almost wild withanxiety lest the courier should not be at his post, but he was therewhen she dashed up to the pine. 

"Take me to Mr. Trowbridge. Quick!" she panted. 

"He's somewhere between Bald Knob and Hatchet Hill, " the man explained, knocking the ashes from his pipe. "It's some dark, too, miss, for ridin'in this country. Can't you wait until morning?"

"I can't wait one second. I have found out where Mr. Wade is, and Imean to be with you all when you find him. "

"You have, eh?" The man, who was one of Trowbridge's punchers, swunginto his saddle. "That bein' so, we'd get there if this here night wasliquid coal. "

CHAPTER XVIII

A RESCUE AND A VIGILANCE COMMITTEE

At the end of an hour, or so, the lion withdrew and Wade thought he hadseen the last of it. He began to pace up and down the fissure once more, for now that his thin shirt was damp with perspiration, set flowing bythe nervous strain he had been under, he began to get chilly again. Hehad just begun to warm up, when he heard the animal returning. Hecrouched back against the cavern wall, but the lion had evidently lostthe zest for such impossible prey. It walked about and sniffed at theedges of the fissure for some minutes; then it sneaked off into thetimber with a cat-like whimper. 

The exhausted ranchman kept his feet as long as he could, but when thefirst rays of the morning sun cast purple shadows into the depths of thehole, he could no longer keep awake. With his hands, he drifted theloose sand about him, as travelers do when exposed to a snow-blizzard, and slept until Goat Neale aroused him, in broad daylight. The Texanperformed this service by deftly dropping a small stone upon thesleeping man's face. 

"I just stepped over to inquire what you-all'd like for breakfast thismornin', " he said with a grin. "Not that it matters much, 'cause thedumb-waiter down to where you be ain't waitin' to-day, but it'smanners, kinder, to ask. "

Wade looked up at him grimly, but said nothing. Just awake as he was, his healthy stomach clamored for food, but since none would be givenhim, he knew that he might as well try to be patient. 

"Mebbe you'd like to step over to our hotel an' take your meals, eh?"The Texan went on, after a short pause. "I've got a pot of coffee bilin'an' a mess o' bacon fryin'. No?" He grinned sardonically. "How'd youlike me to give you some o' this here cabareet stuff, while you'rewaitin'? I ain't no great shucks as a entertainer, but I'll do what Ican. Mebbe, you'd like to know how I happened to catch you that clump onthe head yesterday. Huh?

"I was up in the low branches of a thick pine, where you was moseyin'along. You was that busy watchin' the ground, you never thought to raisethem eyes o' yourn. I just reached down and lammed you good with a pieceof stick, an' here you be, safe an' sound as a beetle in a log. Hereyou'll stay, too, likely, on-less you get some sense, and I don't knowwhen that there dumbwaiter'll get to runnin'. It's a shame, too, if youask me, 'cause a man needs his three or four squares a day in this hereclimate. "

"How much do you want to give me a hand out of here, Neale?" thecattleman demanded abruptly, tired of listening to the fellow'smonotonous drawl; and after all the chance was worth taking. 

The eyes of the Texan glittered. 

"Got the money on you?"

"You'd get the money all right. "

"Sure, son, I know that--if you had it! I'd just hold my gun on you, an'you'd toss the roll up here, without puttin' me to the trouble o' givin'you no hand. " He chuckled in appreciation of his own humor. "But I knowyou ain't got it on you--we frisked you down yonder in the timber--an' Idon't deal in no promises. This here is a cash game. If I thoughttha. .. . "

He whirled about suddenly, looking behind him and seemed to listen foran instant; then his hand dropped to the gun at his hip. He never drewthe weapon, however, for with a horrible facial grimace, as his bodycontorted under the impact of a bullet, he threw his arms into the airand reeled over the edge of the hole. A second afterward the report of arifle came to Wade's ears. 

"Hello!" the rancher shouted, springing from under the Texan's fallingbody. The instant it struck the sand, Wade snatched Neale's revolverfrom its holster and waited for him to try to rise; but he did not move. A bloody froth stained his lips, while a heavier stain on his shirt, just under the heart, told where the bullet had struck. The man wasdead. 

"Hello! Hello!" Wade shouted repeatedly, and discharged the revolverinto the sand. He realized that, although a friend must have fired therifle, there was nothing to show where he was. "Hello!"

"Hello!" The hail was answered by the newcomer, who, thus guided, approached the spot until his voice was near at hand. "Hello!"

"Hello! Come on!" The prisoner threw his hat up out of the hole. "Here Iam!"

The next moment Bill Santry, with tears streaming down hisweather-beaten cheeks, was bending over the edge of the fissure withdown-stretched hands. Beneath his self-control the old man wassoft-hearted as a woman, and in his delight he now made no attempt torestrain himself. 

"Thank Gawd for this minute!" he exclaimed. "Give me your hands, boy. Ican just reach 'em if I stretch a little an' you jump. " Wade did so andwas drawn up out of the hole. "Thank Gawd! Thank Gawd!" the old fellowkept exclaiming, patting his employer on the back. "Didn't hurt youmuch, did they?"

Before Wade could answer, a patter of hoofs caused him to turn, asDorothy slipped from Gypsy's bare back and ran toward him. She stumbledwhen she had almost reached him, and he caught her in his arms. 

"Are you all right? Oh, your head! It's hurt--see, the blood?" She clungto him and searched his face with her eyes, while he tried to sootheher. 

"It's nothing, just a bad bruise, but how--?" He checked the questionupon his lips. "We mustn't stay here. Moran may have. .. . "

"There ain't nobody here. I wish to Gawd he was here. I'd. .. . " Santry'sface was twisted with rage. "'Course, " he added, "I knew it was him, so'd Lem Trowbridge. But we come right smack through their camp, andthere was nobody there. This here skunk that I plugged, he must be theonly one. I got him, I reckon. "

"Yes, " Wade answered simply, as he watched three men from the Trowbridgeranch ride up to them. "Where's Lem?"

Dorothy explained that she had set out to find him in company with theman she had met at the big pine; but on the way they had met Santry andthe three cowboys. One of the men had then ridden on to Bald Knob afterTrowbridge, while the rest had come straight to Coyote Springs. Shetried to speak quietly, but she could not keep the song of happiness outof her voice, or the love out of her eyes. 

"Then you did this, too?" Wade wrung her hands and looked at herproudly. "But how--I don't understand?"

"I'll tell you, when we're in the saddle, " she said shyly. "There's somuch to tell. "

"Santry!" The ranch owner threw his arm fondly across the shoulders ofhis foreman. "You, too, and Lem. I've got all my friends to thank. Say, dig a grave for this fellow, Neale. There was a lion around here lastnight, and I'd hate to have him get Neale, bad as he was. Then--" Hisvoice became crisp with determination. "Hunt up Trowbridge and ask himto pass the word for everybody to meet at the ranch, as soon aspossible. There's going to be open war here in the valley from now on. "He turned again to Dorothy. "Dorothy, I'm going to take you right onhome with me. "

"Oh, but. .. . " The gleam in his eyes made her pause. She was too glad tohave found him safe, besides, to wish to cross him in whatever might behis purpose. 

"No buts about it. I'll send for your mother, too, of course. Town won'tbe any place for either of you until this business is settled. George!"he called to one of the three cowmen, who rode over to him. "I supposeit'll be all right for you to take orders from me?"

"I reckon so. "

"I want you to ride into Crawling Water. Get a buckboard there and bringMrs. Purnell out to my place. Tell her that her daughter is there, andshe'll come. Come now, little girl. " He caught Dorothy in his arms andlifted her on to Gypsy's back. "All right, boys, and much obliged. " Hewaved the little cavalcade on its way, and swung into the saddle on theextra horse, which Santry had provided. 

On the way down through the timber, Dorothy modestly told him of thepart she had played, with the help of Lem Trowbridge. He listened withamazement to the story of her generalship, and was relieved to hear thatthe Rexhills were probably already out of Crawling Water, for that lefthim a free hand to act against Moran. This time the agent must sufferthe penalty of his misdeeds, but greater even than his pleasure at thatthought, was Wade's gratitude to Dorothy for all she had done for him. He was filled with a wonderful tenderness for her, which made him see inthe play of her facial expression; the shy lowering of her lashes; thecolor which ebbed and flowed in her cheeks; the free use which she madeof her red lips, a greater fascination than she had ever before exertedover him. There, in the fissure, he had expected never to be at her sideagain, and now that he was so, and knew what she had come to mean tohim, the old friendship between them seemed no longer possible;certainly not from his side. He felt, in its place, all the confusion ofa lover, anxious to speak and yet struck dumb with clumsiness and thefear, never absent no matter what the degree of encouragement, that hissuit might not find favor with the lady when put into words. 

"You're a wonderful girl, " he burst out, at last, with a heartinessthat, in bringing a flush to her cheeks, made the old phrase seem new toher ears. 

"I'm not at all, " she denied shyly. "I just had to do it, that was all. People always do what they have to do. "

"They do not. Lots of them can't, but you--you're always capable; that'swhat makes you so wonderful, Dorothy!" He pulled his horse closer tohers, meaning to put his arm around her, but he dared not attempt it, when her dress brushed his sleeve. 

"Yes?" She was trembling now far more than when she had faced theRexhills. "What is it?"

His arm dropped to his side, and he suddenly became acutely conscious ofhis appearance, what with his blood-matted hair; his blood-stained andsoiled face; his generally woe-begone and desperate state. At least, before he risked his future on such a question, he ought to makehimself as presentable as he could. 

"Nothing. "

"But--" She looked at him curiously. "You were going to say something, weren't you?"

"Yes; but I'm not going to do it until I can get to a hair-brush, and awash-basin, and a clean shirt, " he answered lugubriously. "What I've goton my mind is a church-going sentiment and I want to be in church-goingclothes. " The expression of his countenance contributed more than hiswords to the humor he strove for, and she laughed at him, merrily withher mouth, very tenderly with her eyes. 

"There's the house. " She pointed ahead. "Even though I'm ridingbareback, I can beat you to it. Come on!"

Once Wade was within reach of food, his hunger became insistent, and hecould not wait for the cook to prepare a meal of fried chicken. Heforaged in the larder beforehand, and then did full justice to the mealput before him. By the time this was over, Mrs. Purnell arrived, and hehad no chance to get into his "church-going clothes, " as he called them. He had to tell the old lady all that had befallen him. 

"I never would have thought it of that Miss Rexhill, " Mrs. Purnelldeclared. 

"It wasn't Miss Rexhill, it was her father and Race Moran, " Dorothyinterposed. 

"Or the Senator either, speaking merely from the looks of him, " hermother retorted. "And think of the position he holds, a Senator of theUnited States!"

"That's no hall-mark of virtue these days, " Wade laughed. 

"Well, it should be. If we're to have people like him running theNation, there's no telling where we'll end. "

"It just goes to show how an honest man, for I think Rexhill was anhonest man when I first knew him, can go wrong by associating with thewrong people, " said Wade. He could not forget his earlier friendship forthe Rexhills, and to him the word friendship meant much. "He not onlygot in with a bad crowd, but he got going at a pace that wrung money outof him every time he moved. Then, in the last election, he was hit hard, and I suppose he felt that he had to recoup, even if he had to sacrificehis friends to do it. We mustn't judge a man like that too hard. We livedifferently out here, and maybe we don't understand those temptations. I'm mighty glad they've gone away. I can get right down to work now, without any qualms of conscience. "

"But think of you, Dorothy, out all night in those mountains!" Mrs. Purnell exclaimed. 

"Mother--" Dorothy smiled tenderly. "You always think backward toyesterday, instead of forward to to-morrow. "

By then, the first of the neighboring ranchers were drifting in, inresponse to Wade's summons. When all were present, and Trowbridge hadwrung Wade's hand in a hearty pressure of congratulation, they wereasked into the living-room, where Santry stood in a corner, munchingslowly on a mouthful of tobacco and smiling grimly to himself. 

"Gentlemen, " began Wade, facing the little group of stern-faced men, "you all know why we are here. To a greater or lesser extent, we've allsuffered from Race Moran's depredations, although until lately none ofus knew his motive. Now, however, we know that there is gold here in thevalley--on our land--which Moran is trying to get possession of. He hasproved that he is willing to resort to any villainy to get what hewants, and while he and his men are at large our lives and most of ourranches are in danger. 

"We have tried the law, but it has not helped us. Such little law as wehave here is entirely in the hands of the enemy. We must now assume thedirection of our own affairs. Many of you have already served in avigilance committee, and you all know the purpose of such anorganization. My idea is to form one now to take possession of CrawlingWater and run Moran and his hired bullies out of the county. Between us, we can muster about a hundred men; more than enough to turn the trick, and the quicker we get to work the sooner we'll be able to go about ourbusiness affairs without fear of being shot in the back. My plan isthis: Let us assemble our force quietly, ride into Crawling Water, capture Moran and his followers, and escort them out of the county. There must be no lynching or unnecessary bloodshed; but if they resist, as some of them will, we must use such force as is needed to overcomethem. "

He stopped speaking, and for some minutes silence prevailed. Then BillSantry shifted the quid in his cheek, spat unerringly through the openwindow, and began to talk. His loose-jointed figure had suddenly becometense and forceful; his lean face was determined and very grim. 

"Being as I've suffered some from this skunk, and have lived here somewhile, so to say, mebbe I can horn in?" he began. 

"Go ahead!" said Wade heartily. 

"Gordon here has stated the gist o' this business a whole lot better'n Icould, but I'd like to make a few additional remarks. We've all beenneighbors for some years, and in the natural course of things we've beenpretty good friends. Until this feller, Moran, got to monkeyin' aroundhere, there wasn't no trouble to talk about, and we was all able tocarry on our work calm and peaceful like. But since this skunk campedamong us, we ain't hardly knowed what a decent sleep is like; he'sgrabbed our range, butchered our stock, shot up our men, lied, andcarried on high, in general. We've given the law a chance to do thesquare thing by us. All we asked was a fair shake, and we turned theother cheek, as the Bible says, hopin' that we could win through withouttoo much fightin', but we've been handed the muddy end of the stickevery time. It's come to a showdown, gents. We either got to let Morando as he damn pleases 'round here, or show him that he's tackled abuzz-saw. Most of us was weaned some earlier than the day beforeyisterday. We gradooated from the tenderfoot class some time back, andit's up to us to prove it. "

He paused and looked around him earnestly for a moment; then, as hisaudience remained silent, he went on:

"I'm older'n you men, an' I've lived a heap in my time. For nearly fortyyears I've been knockin' 'round this Western country without no nurse orguardeen to look after me. I've mixed with all kinds, and I've been insome scrapes; there's notches on my gun handles to prove that I ain'tbeen no quitter. I've rode with the vigilantes more'n once, and thevigilantes has rode after me--more'n once; in my young days I wa'n'texactly what you'd call a nickel-plated saint. But I never killed a man, 'cept in a fair fight, an' I don't believe in violence unless it'snecessary. It's necessary right now, fellers! Moran's gone too far!Things have drawed to a point where we've got to fight or quit. In myexperience, I ain't never seen but one judge that couldn't be bought;money an' influence don't count a whoop with him. It's Judge Colt, gents! You all know him; an' with him on our side we can round up Moranan' his crew of gun-fighters, an' ship 'em out of the country for keeps. Now's the time! The quicker we get busy, the quicker the air in thesehills will be fit for a white man to breathe. "

"It's a go with me, " Lem Trowbridge declared grimly. "That's what I'mhere for. How about the rest of you?"

When the other stock men assented, Wade smiled, for he knew their type. Honest, hard-working, peace-loving men though they were, when arousedthey possessed the courage and tenacity of bull-dogs. They were arousednow, and they would carry on to the end, with a step as firm andrelentless as the march of Time. Woe to whoever attempted to thwart themin their purpose!

Wade's neighbor to the north, Dave Kelly, spoke up in his slow, nasaldrawl. "You say there's to be no lynchin', " he remarked. "How about TugBailey, when he gets here from Sheridan? According to what Lem says, Bailey shot Jensen. "

"Sure, he did, " Trowbridge put in. "We'll just slip a noose over hishead and make him confess. That'll publicly clear Gordon and Bill. Thenwe'll give him a good coat of tar and feathers and run him out of town. "

"That's right, " said Santry. "Jensen was only a Swede and a sheepherder. This here committee's to protect men. "

Kelly chuckled. "Have it your own way, " he said. "I'm not particular. Asit is, there'll be plenty doing. "

For an hour or more the cattlemen went over the plan of their campaign, which worked out into simplicity itself. Early the next evening theywould marshal their force outside of Crawling Water, each man armed andmounted. After dark they would ride up the main street, where they wouldhalt at each crossing, while a squad detailed for the purpose searchedeach saloon and other gathering place for members of Moran's gang. Afterthe prisoners were rounded up they would be assembled in a compact bodyand marched to the railroad where they would be set free, under threatof instant death if they ever returned to Crawling Water. 

Although counting on superior numbers and the morale of his men, Wade, who had been chosen to command the little army, knew that there would beconsiderable hard fighting. Moran's people would probably be scatteredand otherwise unprepared for the attack, but many of them would resistto the death. If Moran should attempt an organized resistance, thecattlemen meant to storm the town. Once the first shot was fired, thefight would be to a finish, for any other outcome than victory wouldspell ruin for the cattle interests in that section. 

The prospect was more than serious. Moran had established himself inCrawling Water and practically ruled it, surrounded as he was by somesixty adherents, the off-scouring of a dozen lawless communities. Thedecent citizens held aloof from him, but on the other hand the lowerelement viewed his reign with favor. The gamblers, particularly MonteJoe, who proclaimed himself Moran's lieutenant, had welcomed him, as hadthe saloonkeepers, to all of whom the presence of his men meant gainfultrade. The better class, in the town itself, was in the minority andunable to restrain the unbridled license which flourished everywhere. 

No matter how stiff Moran's resistance proved, however, Wade felt verysure of the final result. He knew the men in his party and he knew thatthey meant business. He was relieved to believe that Dorothy and hermother would be safe at the ranch until after the trouble was over, andthat Helen and Senator Rexhill had left Crawling Water. The two factionswere now arrayed against each other almost like opposing armies, and thecattleman shuddered to think what his state of mind would have been hadDorothy and Mrs. Purnell remained in Crawling Water. 

"You'll be entirely safe here, " he told them, when he was ready to leavefor Crawling Water on the following evening. "I shall leave Barker tolook after your wants, but you won't really need him. There isn't asheepherder, or any of the Moran gang, between here and Crawling Water. The fighting will all be in town, thank goodness. "

At the word "fighting" Dorothy caught her breath sharply, too proud tourge him against his duty and yet afraid for him. He had not been ableto muster courage enough to speak to her of what was in his heart, foolish though that was in him, and he sat there in the saddle for amoment, looking tenderly down on her as she stood smoothing out hishorse's forelock. 

"Do be careful of yourself, Gordon, " Mrs. Purnell called to him from theporch, but he did not hear her. 

"I haven't had a chance yet to get into my church-going clothes, haveI?" he said whimsically to Dorothy, who flushed prettily and lookedaway. 

"I don't see what clothes have to do with talking to me, " she said halfcoyly and half mischievously. 

"Neither do I, " he agreed. She had stepped aside and his horse's headwas free. "I guess they haven't a thing to do with it, but I haven'tbeen seeing things exactly straight lately. I reckon I've been halflocoed. "

Touching his horse with the spurs, he loped away to join Santry, who waswaiting for him on ahead. 

CHAPTER XIX

BAFFLED, BUT STILL DANGEROUS

When Trowbridge left Dorothy Purnell, promising to find his friend forher sake, he had assumed a confidence that he was far from feeling. Noman knew the country thereabout any better than he did, and he realizedthat there was, at best, only a meager chance of trailing the miscreantwho had succeeded in trapping his victim somewhere in the mountains. Aweaker man would have paused in dismay at the hopelessness of the taskhe had undertaken, but Lem Trowbridge was neither weak nor capable offeeling dismay, or of acknowledging hopelessness. Time enough for allthat after he should have failed. In the meantime it was up to him tofollow Moran. He had learned from Santry of the place where Wade wasstricken down, but how far from there, or in what direction he had beentaken, was a matter of conjecture only, and the only way to learn was totrail the party that had undoubtedly carried the helpless man awayperhaps to his death, but possibly, and more probably, to hold himcaptive. 

Desperate as he knew Moran to be, he did not believe that the immediatemurder of Gordon Wade was planned. That would be poor strategy and Moranwas too shrewd to strike in that fashion. 

It seemed clear enough that parley of some sort was intended but knowingboth Wade and Moran as he did, Trowbridge realized that in order to beof any assistance, he must be on the spot without delay. He had plannedrapidly and he now acted rapidly. 

One of his men was stationed at the big pine, as he had told Dorothy, but all the others in his employ rode with him as swiftly as the besthorses on his ranch could carry them, to the spot Santry had told himof. There they found unmistakable traces of half a dozen or more horses, besides the footprints of Wade's mount, and a brief examination wasenough to show which way the party had gone. Undoubtedly they had takenWade with them, so the pursuing party followed. 

It was one thing to follow, however, and another thing to overtake. Moran was better versed in the intricacies of big cities than in thoseof the wilderness, but he was shrewd enough to realize that Wade'sfriends would start an instant search, as soon as they should miss theranchman, and it was no part of his plans to be taken by surprise. 

Therefore, as soon as he had had his victim thrown into the prison fromwhich escape seemed impossible, Moran selected a camp site nearby, fromwhich he had a view of the surrounding country for miles around in everydirection, and scanning the horizon carefully after his vain attempt tointimidate Wade, he saw Trowbridge's party approaching, while they werestill half a dozen miles away. 

His first thought was to stay where he was and give battle. In this hewould have had a good chance of victory, for, by opening fire onTrowbridge and his followers as they came up, he could undoubtedly havepicked off three or four of them before they reached him, and so securedodds in his own favor, if it should come to an immediate encounter. 

Second thought, however, showed him the folly of such a course. Therewas too much remaining for him to do, and the temporary advantage hemight gain would not compensate him for the havoc it would make in hisultimate designs. He therefore called Goat Neale aside and said:"There's a party of Wade's friends coming up from the East, looking forhim, and I've got to lead them away. You stay here, but keep in hidingand take care that nobody learns where Wade is. He'll live for a fewdays without grub and I'll come back and tend to his case after I've gotthis party going round in circles. 

"You stay, and the rest of us will all ride off to the north, andthey'll think we have Wade with us, so they'll follow us, but we'll losethem somewhere on the way. Sabe?"

Neale demurred at first to the plan, but consented willingly enough whenMoran promised him extra pay; so he stayed, and we already know theresult. Moran, however, followed out his plans successfully enough, andbefore night he reached Crawling Water in safety, while Trowbridge, getting word through one of his scouts of Wade's rescue, abandoned thepursuit. He had been prepared to shoot Moran down at sight, but he wasready enough to leave that work to the man who had a better claim tothe privilege than he had. 

Accordingly Moran had ridden into town, exhausted by the exertions ofhis trip, and had slept for twelve hours before thinking of anythingelse. When he learned on awakening of all that had happened during hisabsence, he was furious with rage. Tug Bailey had been arrested and wason his way to Crawling Water in custody. Senator Rexhill and Helen hadtaken an Eastward-bound train without leaving any word for him, and tocrown it all, he presently learned that Neale had been shot and Wade hadbeen found, and that the whole countryside was aflame with indignation. 

It was characteristic of the man that even in this emergency he had nothought of following his cowardly accomplice in flight. It might behopeless to stay and fight, but he was a fighting man, and he reallyexulted in the thought of the inevitable struggle that was coming. 

Sitting alone in his office studying the situation, he felt the need ofliquor even more strongly than usual, though the habit had grown on himof late, and accordingly he drank again and again, increasing his ragethereby, but getting little help towards a solution of his difficulties. 

He was enraged most of all at Wade's escape from Coyote Springs and wasstill puzzled to think how this had happened, for Senator Rexhill inleaving had kept his own counsel on that point, and Moran did not dreamof his having betrayed the secret. 

Not only had the ranchman been able to turn another trick in the gameby escaping, but he had also evaded Moran's intended vengeance, for thelatter had had no thought of letting his prisoner go alive. He had meantfirst to secure Wade's signature, and then to make away with him socleverly as to escape conviction for the act. 

He realized now, when it was too late, that he had acted toodeliberately in that matter, and he was sorry for it. He considered thedeparture of the Rexhills a cowardly defection. He was furious to thinkthat Helen had refused to listen to him while she stayed, or to saygood-by to him before leaving. The sting of these various reflectionsled him to take further pull at a silver flask which he kept in hispocket, and which bore the inscription, "To Race Moran from his friendsof the Murray Hill Club. "

"So, " he muttered, chewing his mustache, "that's what I get for stickingto Rexhill. " Leaning back in his swivel chair, he put his feet up on thedesk and hooked his fingers in the arm-holes of his vest. "Well, I ain'tready to run yet, not by a jugful. "

In his decision to remain, however, he was actuated by a desire to closewith Wade, and not by any enthusiasm for the cause of the hired rascalswho were so loudly singing his praise. They were not cowards, nor washe, but he had had too much experience with such people to be deludedinto believing that, when the showdown came, they would think ofanything but their own precious skins. He had heard rumors of theactivity of the cattlemen but he discounted such rumors because of manyfalse alarms in the past. He would not be frightened off; he determinedto remain until there was an actual clash of arms, in the hope thatevents would so work out as to allow him a chance to get back, andseverely, at Wade. 

He got to his feet and rolled about the room, like a boozy sailor, puffing out volumes of smoke and muttering beneath his breath. When hehad worked off some of his agitation, the big fellow seated himselfagain, shrugged his massive shoulders, and lapsed into an alcoholicreverie. He was applying his inflamed brain to the problem of vengeance, when hurried footsteps on the stairs aroused him. Going to the door, heflung it open and peered out into the dimly lighted hallway. 

"Hello, Jed!" he exclaimed, upon finding that the newcomer was one ofhis "heelers. " "What d'you want? Hic!" He straightened up with aludicrous assumption of gravity. 

"The night riders! They've. .. . " The man was breathless and visiblypanic-stricken. 

"Riders? Hic! What riders?" Moran growled. "Out with it, youjelly-fish!"

"The ranchers--the cattlemen--they've entered the town: they're on thewarpath. Already a lot of our fellows have been shot up. "

"The hell they have! How long ago? Where?"

"Other end of town. Must be two hundred or more. I hustled down here toput you wise to the play. "

"Thanks!" said Moran laconically. "You're headed in the right direction, keep going!"

But the man lingered, while Moran, as lightly as a cat, despite hisgreat bulk and the liquor he carried, sprang to the nearest window. Farup the street, he could distinguish a huddled mass, pierced by flashesof fire, which he took to be horsemen; as he watched, he heard scatteredshots and a faint sound of yelling. The one hasty glance told him allthat he needed to know; he had not thought this move would come so soon, but luck seemed to be against him all around. Something of a fatalist, in the final analysis, he no longer wasted time in anger or regrets. Hewas not particularly alarmed, and would not have been so could he haveknown the truth, that the yelling he had heard marked the passing of TugBailey, who had confessed but had made his confession too late to pleasethe crowd, which had him in its power. Nevertheless, Moran realized thatthere was no time now to form his men into anything like organizedresistance. The enemy had caught him napping, and the jig was up. He hadseen the vigilantes work before, and he knew that if he intended to savehis own skin he must act quickly. When he turned from the window, shortthough the interval had been, he had formed a plan of escape. 

"They've brought every man they could rake up, " Jed added. "I reckonthey've combed every ranch in the county to start this thing. "

Moran looked up quickly, struck by the significance of the remark. If itwere true, and it probably was, then Wade's ranch also would bedeserted. He half opened his mouth, as though to confide in hiscompanion, when he evidently concluded to keep his own counsel. 

"All right, " he said simply. "I guess there's still plenty of time. I'vegot a good horse at the lower end of the street. Take care of yourself. So long!"

The man clattered down the stairs, and Moran turned to his desk, fromwhich he took some papers and a roll of money, which he stuffed into hispockets. In the hallway he paused for a moment to examine a wickedlooking revolver, which he took from his hip pocket; for, contrary tothe custom of the country, he did not wear his gun openly in a holster. Convinced that the weapon was in good working order, he walked calmlydown to the street, sobered completely by this sudden call on hisreserve powers. 

His horse, a large, rawboned gray, was where he had left it, and shakinghis fist in the direction of the vigilantes, he mounted and rode off. Hemeant to make a wide detour and then work back again to the Double Arrowrange. If the ranch were really deserted, he meant to fire thebuildings, before attempting his escape. Such a revenge would be atrifle compared to that which he had planned, but it would be betterthan nothing, while one more offense would not lengthen his term in jailany, if he were caught afterward. He felt in his pocket for the whiskeyflask, and swore when he found it missing. He wanted the liquor, but hewanted the flask more, for its associations; he drew rein and thought ofreturning to search for it, but realizing the folly of this, he pressedon again. 

The round-about way he took was necessarily a long one and the rideentirely sobered him, except for a crawling sensation in his brain, asthough ants were swarming there, which always harassed him after adebauch. At such times he was more dangerous than when under the firstinfluence of whiskey. It was close upon noon, and the silvery sagebrushwas shimmering beneath the direct rays of the sun, when he rode hislathered horse out of a cottonwood grove to gaze, from the edge of adeep draw, at Wade's ranch buildings. That very morning a gaunt, graytimber-wolf had peered forth at almost the same point; and despiteMoran's bulk, there was a hint of a weird likeness between man and beastin the furtive suspicious survey they made of the premises. The wolf hadfinally turned back toward the mountains, but Moran advanced. Althoughhe was reasonably certain that the place was deserted, a degree ofcaution, acquired overnight, led him first to assure himself of thefact. He tied his horse to a fence post and stealthily approached thehouse to enter by the back door. 

Dorothy was alone in the building, for her mother had gone with theoverly confident Barker to pick blackberries, and the Chinese cook wastemporarily absent. The girl was making a bed, when the door swung open, and she turned with a bright greeting, thinking that her mother hadreturned. When she saw Moran leering at her, the color fled from hercheeks, in a panic of fright which left her unable to speak or move. Shewas looking very pretty and dainty in a cool, fresh gown, which fittedher neatly, and her sleeves were rolled up over her shapely forearms, for the task of housekeeping which she had assumed. In her innocent way, she would have stirred the sentiment in any man, and to the inflamedbrute before her she seemed all the more delectable because helpless. Here was a revenge beyond Moran's wildest dreams. To her he appeared theincarnation of evil, disheveled, mud-splashed and sweaty, as his puffedand blood-shot eyes feasted on her attractiveness. 

"Good morning!" He came into the room and closed the door. "I didn'texpect to find you, but since you're here, I'll stop long enough toreturn your visit of the other night. That's courteous, ain't it?"

Dorothy gulped down the lump in her throat, but made no reply. Realizingthe importance of a show of bravery, she was fighting to conquer herpanic. 

"You're sure a good-looking kid, " he went on, trying to approach her;but she put the width of the bed between him and herself. "Each time Isee you, you're better looking than you were the last time. Say, thatlast time, we were talking some about a kiss, weren't we, when we wereinterrupted?"

"Mr. Wade may come in at any moment, " Dorothy lied desperately, havingfound her tongue at last. "You'd better not let him find you here. "

"I shouldn't mind, " Moran said nonchalantly. "Fact is, on my way out ofthe country, I thought I'd pay a farewell call on my good friend, Wade. I'm real sorry he ain't here--and then again I'm not. I'll--I'll leavemy visiting card for him, anyhow. " He chuckled, a nasty, throaty, mirthless chuckle that sent chills up and down the girl's spine. "Say, what's the matter with giving me that kiss now? There's nobody around tointerrupt us this time. "

Dorothy shuddered, for already she had divined what was in his mind. Theavid gleam in his eyes had warned her that he would not restrain himselffor long, and summoning all her strength and courage, she prepared tomeet the fearful crisis she must face. 

"Will you please go?"

"No!" Moran chuckled again, and stepped toward her. "Will you come to menow, or shall I go after you?"

"You brute! You coward!" she cried, when she found herself, after adesperate struggle, held firmly in his grasp. 

She screamed, then, at the top of her lung power until his hand fellfirmly across her mouth, and she could only struggle with the madstrength of desperation. Her muscles could offer him no effectiveresistance, although for a moment the sudden fury of her attack drovehim back, big though he was; but it was only for a moment. It gave her achance to scream once more; then, closing in upon her, he seized heragain in his ape-like embrace. She fought like a cornered wild-cat, butslowly and surely he was bending her to his will. Her nails were leavingraw marks upon him, until the blood ran down his face, and presentlycatching between her teeth one of the fingers of the hand which gaggedher, she bit it so fiercely that he cried out in pain. 

"Curse you, you little she-devil, " he grunted savagely. "I'll make youpay twice for that!"

"Gordon! Oh, come to me! Quick! Quick!"

Quivering all over, she sank on her knees before the brute whoconfronted her, a figure of distress that must have appealed to theheart of any man above the level of a beast. But in the heat of passionand rage, Moran had lost kinship with even the beasts themselves. Lustburned in his eyes and twisted his features horribly as he seized heragain, exhausted by the brave struggle she had made, and all buthelpless in his grasp. 

"Gordon! Mother! Barker! Save me! Oh, my God!"

CHAPTER XX

THE STORM BURSTS

The vigilantes had entered Crawling Water at about ten o'clock, when thesaloons and gambling joints were in full swing. Ribald songs and oathsfrom the players, drinkers, and hangers-on floated into the street, withnow and then the bark of a six-shooter telling of drunken sport orbravado. Few people were abroad; good citizens had retired to theirhomes, and the other half was amusing itself. 

So it was, at first, that few noticed the troop of horsemen which swungin at one end of the town, to ride slowly and silently down the mainstreet. Each of the hundred men in the troop carried a rifle balancedacross his saddle pommel; each was dressed in the garb of therange-rider; and the face of each, glimpsed by the light from somewindow or doorway, was grimly stern. The sight was one calculated tomake Fear clutch like an ice-cold hand at the hearts of those withguilty consciences; a spectacle which induced such respectable men assaw it to arm themselves and fall in behind the advancing line. Theseknew without being told what this noiseless band of stern-eyed ridersportended, and ever since the coming of Moran into Crawling WaterValley, they had been waiting for just this climax. 

Before the first of the dives, the troop halted as Wade raised his rightarm high in the air. Twenty of the men dismounted to enter theglittering doorway, while the remainder of the vigilantes waited ontheir horses. A few seconds after the twenty had disappeared, the musicof the piano within abruptly ceased. The shrill scream of a frightenedwoman preceded a couple of pistol shots and the sounds of a scuffle;then, profound silence. Presently the twenty reappeared guarding ahandful of prisoners, who were disarmed and hustled across the street toan empty barn, where they were placed under a guard of citizenvolunteers. 

So they proceeded, stopping now and then to gather in more prisoners, who were in turn escorted to the temporary jail, while the columncontinued its relentless march. The system in their attack seemed toparalyze the activities of the Moran faction and its sycophants; therewas something almost awe-inspiring in the simple majesty of the thing. By now the whole town was aware of what was taking place; men werescurrying hither and thither, like rats on a sinking ship. Occasionallyone, when cornered and in desperation, put up a fight; but for the mostpart, the "bad men" were being captured without bloodshed. Few bad menare so "bad" that they would not rather live, even in captivity, thancome to their full reward in the kingdom of Satan. Frightened anddisorganized, the enemy seemed incapable of any concentrated resistance. As Santry succinctly put it: "They've sure lost their goat. "

Not until the troop reached Monte Joe's place, which was the mostimposing of them all, was real opposition encountered. Here a number ofthe choicer spirits from the Moran crowd had assembled and barricadedthe building, spurred on by the knowledge that a rope with a runningnoose on one end of it would probably be their reward if captured alive. Monte Joe, a vicious, brutal ruffian, was himself in command and spokethrough the slats of a blind, when the vigilantes stopped before thedarkened building. 

"What d'you want?" he hoarsely demanded. 

"You, and those with you, " Wade curtly answered. 

The gambler peered down into the street, his little blood-shot eyesblinking like a pig's. "What for?" he growled. 

"We'll show you soon enough, " came in a rising answer from the crowd. "Open up!"

Monte Joe withdrew from the window, feeling that he was doomed to death, but resolved to sell his life dearly. "Go to hell!" he shouted. 

Wade gave a few tersely worded orders. Half a dozen of his men ran to anearby blacksmith shop for sledge hammers, with which to beat in thedoor of the gambling house, while the rest poured a hail of bullets intothe windows of the structure. Under the onslaught of the heavy hammers, swung by powerful arms, the door soon crashed inward, and the besiegerspoured through the opening. The fight which ensued was short and fierce. Outnumbered though the defenders were, they put up a desperate battle, but they were quickly beaten down and disarmed. 

Shoved, dragged, carried, some of them cruelly wounded and a few deadbut all who lived swearing horribly, the prisoners were hustled to thestreet. Last of all came Monte Joe, securely held by two brawnycow-punchers. At sight of his mottled, blood-besmeared visage, the crowdwent wild. 

"Hang him! Lynch the dirty brute! Get a rope!" The cry was taken up byfifty voices. 

Hastily running the gambler beneath a convenient tree, they proceeded toadjust a noose about his neck. In another instant Monte Joe's soul wouldhave departed to the Great Beyond but for a series of interruptions. Wade created the first of these by forcing his big, black horse throughthe throng. 

"Listen, men!" he roared. "You must stop this! This man--all ofthem--must have a fair trial. "

"Trial be damned!" shouted a bearded rancher. "We've had enough law inthis valley. Now we're after justice. "

Cheering him the crowd roared approbation of the sentiment, for even thelaw-abiding seemed suddenly to have gone mad with blood-lust. Wade, hisface flushed with anger, was about to reply to them when Santry forcedhis way to the front. Ever since Wade had released the old man fromjail, he had been impressed with the thought that, no matter what hisown views, gratitude demanded that he should instantly back up hisemployer. 

"Justice!" snapped the old man, pushing his way into the circle that hadformed around the prisoner, a pistol in each hand. "Who's talkin' o'justice? Ain't me an' Wade been handed more dirt by this bunch o'crooks than all the rest o' you combined? Joe's a pizenous varmint, buthe's goin' to get something he never gave--a square deal. You hear me?Any man that thinks different can settle the p'int with me!"

He glared at the mob, his sparse, grizzled mustache seeming actually tobristle. By the dim light of a lantern held near him his aspect wasterrifying. A gash on his forehead had streaked one side of his facewith blood, while his eyes, beneath their shaggy thatch of brows, appeared to blaze like live coals. Involuntarily, those nearest himshrank back a pace but only for a moment for such a mob was not to bedaunted by threats. A low murmur of disapproval was rapidly swellinginto a growl of anger, when Sheriff Thomas appeared. 

"Gentlemen!" he shouted, springing upon a convenient box. "The law mustbe respected, and as its representative in this community. .. . "

"Beat it, you old turkey buzzard!" cried an irate puncher, wildlybrandishing a brace of Colts before the officer. "To hell with the lawand you, too. You ain't rep'sentative of nothin' in this community!"

"Men!" Wade began again. 

"String the Sheriff up, too, " somebody yelled. 

"By right of this star. .. . " Thomas tapped the badge on his vest. "Iam. .. . "

"Pull on the rope!" cried the bearded rancher, and his order would havebeen executed but for Wade's detaining hand. 

"I'm Sheriff here. " Thomas was still trying to make himself heard, never noticing three men, who were rolling in behind him a barrel, whichthey had taken from a nearby store. "I demand that the law be respected, and that I be permitted to--to. .. . " He stopped to sneeze and sputter, for having knocked in the top of the barrel, which contained flour, thethree men had emptied its contents over the officer's head. 

His appearance as he tried to shake himself free of the sticky stuff, which coated him from head to foot, was so ludicrous that a roar oflaughter went up from the mob. It was the salvation of Monte Joe, forWade, laughing himself, took advantage of the general merriment to urgehis plea again in the gambler's behalf. This time the mob listened tohim. 

"All right, Wade, " a man cried. "Do as you like with the cuss. This ismostly your funeral, anyhow. "

"Yes, let the ---- go, " called out a dozen voices. 

By this time the close formation of the vigilantes was broken. From timeto time, men had left the ranks in pursuit of skulkers, and finding theway back blocked by the crowd, had taken their own initiativethereafter. Wade and Santry could not be everywhere at once, and so ithappened that Lem Trowbridge was the only one of the leaders to bepresent when Tug Bailey was taken out of the jail. Trowbridge had notWade's quiet air of authority, and besides, he had allowed his own bloodto be fired by the "clean up. " He might have attempted to save themurderer had time offered, but when the confession was wrung from him, the mob, cheated of one lynching, opened fire upon him as by a commonimpulse. In the batting of an eyelash, Bailey fell in a crumpled heap, his body riddled by bullets. 

Meanwhile, Wade and Santry were searching for the chief cause of alltheir trouble, Race Moran. They were not surprised to find his officevacant, but as the night wore on and the saffron hues of dawn appearedin the sky, and still he was not found, they became anxious. Half of thegratification of their efforts would be gone, unless the agent was madeto pay the penalty of his crimes. Wade inquired of the men he met, andthey too had seen nothing of the wily agent. The search carried them tothe further end of the town without result, when Wade turned to Santry. 

"Hunt up Lem and see if he knows anything, " he said. "I'll meet you infront of the hotel. I'm going to ride out and see if I can dig up anynews on the edge of town. Moran may have made a get-away. "

With a nod, Santry whirled his horse and dashed away, and Wade rodeforward toward an approaching resident, evidently of faint heart, whomeant, so it seemed, to be in for the "cakes" even though he had missedthe "roast. " A little contemptuously, the ranchman put his question. 

"Yes, I seen him; leastwise, I think so, " the man answered. "He wentpast my house when the shootin' first started. How are the boys makin'out?"

"Which way did he go?" the cattleman demanded, ignoring the other'squestion. The resident pointed in the direction taken by Moran. "Are yousure?"

"If it was him, I am, and I think it was. "

Wade rode slowly forward in the indicated direction, puzzled somewhat, for it led away from Sheridan, which should have been the agent'slogical objective point. But a few moments' consideration of thesituation made him think that the route was probably chosen forstrategic reasons. Very likely Moran had found his escape at the otherend of the town blocked, and he meant to work to some distant pointalong the railroad. Wade drew rein, with the idea of bringing hisfriends also to the pursuit, but from what his informant had told himMoran already had a long start and there was no time to waste insummoning assistance. Besides, if it were still possible to overtake thequarry, the ranchman preferred to settle his difference with him, faceto face, and alone. 

He urged his horse into a lope, and a little beyond the town dismountedto pick up the trail of the fugitive, if it could be found. Thanks to arecent shower, the ground was still soft, and the cattleman soon pickedup the trail of a shod horse, leading away from the road and out uponthe turf. By the growing light, he was able to follow this at a fairlyrapid pace, and as he pressed on the reflection came to him that if theagent continued as he was now headed, he could hope to come outeventually upon the Burlington Railroad, a full seventy miles fromSheridan. The pursuit was likely to be a long one, in this event, andWade was regretting that he had not left some word to explain hisabsence, when he suddenly became aware of the fact that he had lost thetrail. 

With an exclamation of annoyance, he rode back a hundred yards or so, until he picked up the tracks again, when he found that they turnedsharply to the right, altogether away from the railroad. Puzzled again, he followed it for half a mile, until convinced that Moran haddeliberately circled Crawling Water. But why? What reason could the manhave which, in a moment of desperate danger to himself, would lead himto delay his escape? What further deviltry could he have on foot? Therewas nothing to lead him in the direction he was now traveling, unless. .. ! Wade's heart suddenly skipped a beat and beads of cold sweatbedewed his forehead, for Dorothy Purnell and her mother had come intohis mind. There was nothing ahead of Moran but the Double Arrow ranch!If that were the agent's objective point, there would be nothing betweenhim and the women save Barker, and the "drop" of a gun might settlethat!

Never had the big black horse been spurred as cruelly as he was then, when Wade plunged his heels into his flanks. With a snort the horsebolted and then settled into his stride until the gentle breeze in therider's face became a rushing gale. But the pain which the animal hadfelt was nothing to the fear which tugged at the ranchman'sheartstrings, as he reproached himself bitterly for having left only oneman at the ranch, although at the time the thought of peril to the womenhad never occurred to him. With the start that Moran had, Wade reasonedthat he stood small chance of arriving in time to do any good. He couldonly count upon the watchfulness and skill of Barker to protect them. 

Failing that, there was but one hope, that the rider who had gone onahead might not be Moran after all. But presently all doubt of the man'sidentity was removed from the ranchman's mind, for on the soggy turfahead his quick eyes caught the glitter of something bright. Sweepingdown from his saddle, he picked it up without stopping, and found thatit was a half emptied whiskey flask. Turning it over in his hand, heread the inscription: "To Race Moran from his friends of the Murray HillClub. "

CHAPTER XXI

WITH BARE HANDS AT LAST

In after years, when Wade tried to recall that mad ride, he found itonly a vague blur upon his memory. He was conscious only of the factthat he had traveled at a speed which, in saner moments, he would haveconsidered suicidal. Urging the big black over the rougher ground of thehigher levels, he rode like a maniac, without regard for his own lifeand without mercy for the magnificent horse beneath him. Time and againthe gelding stumbled on the rocky footing and almost fell, only to beurged to further efforts by his rider. 

Five miles out of Crawling Water, the cattleman thought of a short-cut, through a little used timber-trail, which would save him several miles;but it was crossed by a ravine cut by a winter avalanche like the slashof a gigantic knife. To descend into this ravine and ascend on thefarther side would be a tortuous process, which would take more timethan to continue by the longer route. But if the gelding could jump thenarrow cleft in the trail, the distance saved might decide the issuewith Moran. On the other hand, if the leap of the horse was short, practically certain death must befall both animal and rider. 

Wade decided, in his reckless mood, that the chance was worth taking andhe rode the black to the edge of the cleft, where trembling withnervousness, the animal refused the leap. Cursing furiously, Wade drovehim at it again, and again the gelding balked. But at the third try herose to the prick of the spurs and took the jump. The horse's forelegscaught in perilous footing and the struggling, slipping animal snortedin terror, but the ranchman had allowed the impulse of the leap to carryhim clear of his saddle. Quickly twisting the bridle reins around onewrist, he seized the horse's mane with his free hand, and helped by theviolent efforts the animal made, succeeded in pulling him up to a firmerfooting. For some minutes afterward he had to soothe the splendid brute, patting him and rubbing his trembling legs; then, with a grim expressionof triumph on his face, he resumed his journey. The chance had won!

There was less likelihood now that he would be too late, although thethought that he might be so still made him urge the horse to the limitof his speed. He kept his eyes fastened on a notch in the hills, whichmarked the location of the ranch. He rode out on the clearing which heldthe house just in time to hear Dorothy's second scream, and plunged outof his saddle, pulling his rifle from the scabbard beneath his right legas he did so. From the kitchen chimney a faint wisp of smoke curledupward through the still air; a rooster crowed loudly behind the barnand a colt nickered in the corral. Everywhere was the atmosphere ofpeace, save for that scream followed now by another choking cry, and abarking collie, which danced about before the closed door of the housein the stiff-legged manner of his breed, when excited. 

Wade burst into the house like a madman and on into the back room, whereMoran, his face horribly distorted by passion, was forcing the girlslowly to the floor. But for the protection which her supple bodyafforded him, the ranchman would have shot him in his tracks. 

"Gordon!" The overwhelming relief in her face, burned into Wade's soullike a branding-iron. "Don't shoot! Oh, thank God!" She fell backagainst the wall, as Moran released her, and began to cry softly andbrokenly. 

Snarling with baffled rage and desire, Moran whirled to meet thecattleman. His hand darted, with the swift drop of the practised gunman, toward his hip pocket; but too late, for he was already covered bythe short-barreled rifle in Wade's hands. More menacing even than theyawning muzzle was the expression of terrible fury in the ranchman'sface. For a space of almost a minute, broken only by the tense breathingof the two men and a strangled sob from Dorothy, Moran's fate hung onthe movement of an eyelash. Then Wade slowly relaxed the tension of histrigger finger. Shooting would be too quick to satisfy him!

Moran breathed more freely at this sign, for he knew that he had beennearer death than ever before in all his adventurous life, and the swayof his passion had weakened his nervous control. Courage came back tohim rapidly, for with all his faults he was, physically at least, nocoward. He took hope from his belief that Wade would not now shoot himdown. 

"Well, why don't you pull that trigger?" His tone was almost as cool asthough he had asked a commonplace question. 

"I've heard, " said Wade slowly, "that you call yourself a goodrough-and-tumble fighter; that you've never met your match. I want toget my--hands--on you!"

Moran's features relaxed into a grin; it seemed strange to him that anyman could be such a fool. It was true that he had never met his match inrough fighting, and he did not expect to meet it now. 

"You're a bigger man than I am, " the cattleman went on. "I'll take achance on you being a better one. I believe that I can break you withmy--hands--like the rotten thing you are. " He paid no heed to Dorothy'stearful protests. "Will you meet me in a fair fight?" Wade's facesuddenly contorted with fury. "If you won't. .. . " His grip on the rifletightened significantly. 

"No, Gordon, no! Oh, please, not that!" the girl pleaded. 

"Sure, I'll fight, " Moran answered, a gleam of joy in his eyes. Hegloried in the tremendous strength of a body which had brought himvictory in half a hundred barroom combats. He felt that no one lived, outside the prize-ring, who could beat him on an even footing. 

"Take his gun away from him, " Wade told Dorothy. "It's the second timeyou've disarmed him, but it'll be the last. He'll never carry a gunagain. Take it!" he repeated, commandingly, and when she obeyed, added:"Toss it on the bed. " He stood his rifle in a corner near the door. 

"You're a fool, Wade, " Moran taunted as they came together. "I'm goingto kill you first and then I'll take my will of her. " But nothing hecould say could add to Wade's fury, already at its coldest, most deadlypoint. 

He answered by a jab at the big man's mouth, which Moran cleverlyducked; for so heavy a man, he was wonderfully quick on his feet. Heducked and parried three other such vicious leads, when, by a cleverfeint, Wade drew an opening and succeeded in landing his right fist, hard as a bag of stones, full in the pit of his adversary's stomach. Itwas an awful blow, one that would have killed a smaller man; but Moranmerely grunted and broke ground for an instant. Then he landed aswinging left on the side of Wade's head which opened a cut over his earand nearly floored him. 

Back and forth across the little room they fought, with little advantageeither way, while Dorothy watched them breathlessly. Like gladiatorsthey circled each other, coming together at intervals with the shock oftwo enraged bulls. Both were soon bleeding from small cuts on the headand face, but neither was aware of the fact. Occasionally they collidedwith articles of furniture, which were overturned and swept asidealmost unnoticed; while Dorothy was forced to step quickly from onepoint to another to keep clear of them. Several times Wade told her toleave the room, but she would not go. 

Finally the ranchman's superior condition began to tell in his favor. Atthe end of ten minutes' fighting, the agent's breathing became laboredand his movements slower. Wade, still darting about quickly and lightly, had no longer much difficulty in punishing the brutal, leering facebefore him. Time after time he drove his fists mercilessly into Moran'sfeatures until they lost the appearance of anything human and began toresemble raw meat. 

But suddenly, in attempting to sidestep one of his opponent's bull-likerushes, the cattleman slipped in a puddle of blood and half fell, andbefore he could regain his footing Moran had seized him. Then Wadelearned how the big man's reputation for tremendous strength had beenwon. Cruelly, implacably, those great, ape-like arms entwined about theranchman's body until the very breath was crushed out of it. Resortingto every trick he knew, he strove desperately to free himself, but allthe strength in his own muscular body was powerless to break the other'shold. With a crash that shook the house to its foundation, they fell tothe floor, and by a lucky twist Wade managed to fall on top. 

The force of the fall had shaken Moran somewhat, and the cattleman, bycalling on the whole of his strength, succeeded in tearing his armsfree. Plunging his fingers into the thick, mottled throat, he squeezedsteadily until Moran's struggles grew weaker and weaker. Finally theyceased entirely and the huge, heavy body lay still. 

Wade stumbled to his feet and staggered across the room. 

"It's all right, " he said thickly, and added at sight of Dorothy's wide, terror-stricken eyes: "Frightened you, didn't we? Guess I should haveshot him and made a clean job of it; but I couldn't, somehow. "

"Oh, he's hurt you terribly!" the girl cried, bursting into fresh tears. 

Wade laughed and tenderly put his arms around her, for weak though hewas and with nerves twitching like those of a recently sobered drunkard, he was not too weak or sick to enjoy the privilege of soothing her. Thefeel of her in his arms was wonderful happiness to him and her tears forhim seemed far more precious than all the gold on his land. He had justlifted her up on the sill of the open window, thinking that the freshair might steady her, when she looked over his shoulder and saw Moran, who had regained consciousness, in the act of reaching for his revolver, which lay on the bed where she had tossed it. 

"Oh, see what he's doing! Look out!"

Her cry of warning came just too late. There was a flash and roar, and ahot flame seemed to pass through Wade's body. Half turning about, heclutched at the air, and then pitched forward to the floor, where he laystill. Flourishing the gun, Moran got unsteadily to his feet and turneda ghastly, dappled visage to the girl, who, stunned and helpless, wasgazing at him in wide-eyed horror. But she had nothing more to fearfrom him, for now that he believed Wade dead, the agent was tooovershadowed by his crime to think of perpetrating another and worseone. He had already wasted too much valuable time. He must get away. 

"I got him, " he croaked, in a terrible voice. "I got him like I said Iwould, damn him!" With a blood-curdling attempt at a laugh, he staggeredout of the house into the sunshine. 

For a moment Dorothy stared woodenly through the empty doorway; then, with a choking sob, she bent over the man at her feet. She shook himgently and begged him to speak to her, but she could get no response andunder her exploring fingers his heart apparently had ceased to beat. Fora few seconds she stared at the widening patch of red on his torn shirt;then her gaze shifted and focused on the rifle in the corner by thedoor. As she looked at the weapon her wide, fear-struck eyes narrowedand hardened with a sudden resolve. Seizing the gun, she cocked it andstepped into the doorway. 

Moran was walking unsteadily toward the place where he had tied hishorse. He was tacking from side to side like a drunken man, waving hisarms about and talking to himself. Bringing the rifle to her shoulder, Dorothy steadied herself against the door-frame and took long, carefulaim. As she sighted the weapon her usually pretty face, now scratchedand streaked with blood from her struggles with the agent, wore theexpression of one who has seen all that is dear in life slip away fromher. At the sharp crack of the rifle Moran stopped short and aconvulsive shudder racked his big body from head to foot. After a singlestep forward he crumpled up on the ground. For several moments his armsand legs twitched spasmodically; then he lay still. 

Horrified by what she had done, now that it was accomplished Dorothystepped backward into the house and stood the rifle in its formerposition near the door, when a low moan from behind made her turnhurriedly. Wade was not dead then! She hastily tore his shirt from overthe wound, her lips twisted in a low cry of pity as she did so. To hertender gaze, the hurt seemed a frightful one. Dreading lest he shouldregain consciousness and find himself alone, she decided to remain withhim, instead of going for the help she craved; most likely she would beunable to find her mother and Barker, anyway. She stopped the flow ofblood as best she could and put a pillow under the ranchman's head, kissing him afterward. Then for an interval she sat still. She neverknew for how long. 

Santry reached the house just as Mrs. Purnell and Barker returned withtheir berries, and the three found the girl bathing the wounded man'sface, and crying over him. 

"Boy, boy!" Santry sobbed, dropping on his knees before the unconsciousfigure. "Who done this to you?"

Dorothy weepingly explained, and when she told of her own part inshooting Moran the old fellow patted her approvingly on the back. "Goodgirl, " he said hoarsely. "But I wish that job had been left for me. "

"Merciful Heavens!" cried Mrs. Purnell. "I shall never get over this. "With trembling hands she took the basin and towel from her daughter andset them one side, then she gently urged the girl to her feet. 

"You!" said Santry, so ferociously to Barker that the man winced inspite of himself. "Help me to lay him on the bed, so's to do itgentle-like. "

Dorothy, who felt certain that Wade was mortally hurt, struggleddesperately against the feeling of faintness which was creeping overher. She caught at a chair for support, and her mother caught her in herarms. 

"My poor dear, you're worn out. Go lie down. Oh, when I think. .. !"

"Don't talk to me, mother!" Dorothy waved her back, for the presenceclose to her of another person could only mean her collapse. "I'm allright. I'm of no consequence now. He needs a doctor, " she added, turningto Santry, who stood near the bed bowed with grief. He, too, thoughtthat Wade would never be himself again. 

"I'll go, " said Barker, eager to do something to atone for his absenceat the critical moment, but Santry rounded upon him in a rage. 

"You--you skunk!" he snarled, and gestured fiercely toward the bed. "Heleft you here to look after things and you--you went _berry pickin'_!"Barker seemed so crushed by the scorn in the old man's words thatDorothy's sympathy was stirred. 

"It wasn't Barker's fault, " she said quickly. "There seemed to be nodanger. Gordon said so himself. But one of you go, immediately, for thedoctor. "

"I'll go, " Santry responded and hurried from the room, followed byBarker, thoroughly wretched. 

Dorothy went to the bedside and looked down into Wade's white face; thenshe knelt there on the floor and said a little prayer to the God of allmen to be merciful to hers. 

"Maybe if I made you a cup of tea?" Mrs. Purnell anxiously suggested, but the girl shook her head listlessly. Tea was the elder woman'spanacea for all ills. 

"Don't bother me, mother, please. I--I've just been through a good deal. I can't talk--really, I can't. "

Mrs. Purnell, subsiding at last, thereafter held her peace, and Dorothysat down by the bed to be instantly ready to do anything that could bedone. She had sat thus, almost without stirring, for nearly an hour, when Wade moved slightly and opened his eyes. 

"What is it?" She bent over him instantly, forgetting everything exceptthat he was awake and that he seemed to know her. 

"Is it you, Dorothy?" He groped weakly for her fingers. 

"Yes, dear, " she answered, gulping back the sob in her throat. "Is thereanything you want? What can I do for you?"

He smiled feebly and shook his head. 

"It's all right, if it's you, " he said faintly, after a moment. "You'reall right--always!"

CHAPTER XXII

CHURCH-GOING CLOTHES

After his few words to Dorothy the wounded man lapsed again into coma, in which condition he was found by the physician, who returned withSantry from Crawling Water. During the long intervening time the girlhad not moved from the bedside, though the strain of her own terribleexperience with Moran was making itself felt in exhaustive fatigue. 

"Go and rest yourself, " Santry urged. "It's my turn now. "

"I'm not tired, " she declared, trying to smile into the keen eyes of thedoctor, who had heard the facts from the old plainsman as they rode outfrom town. 

Wade lay with his eyes closed, apparently in profound stupor, but gavesigns of consciousness when Dr. Catlin gently shook him. Dorothy feltthat he should not be disturbed, although she kept her own counsel, butCatlin wanted to see if he could arouse his patient at all, for theextent of the injury caused by the bullet, which had entered the back inthe vicinity of the spinal cord, could be gauged largely by the amountof sensibility remaining. The wounded man was finally induced to answermonosyllabically the questions put to him, but he did so with surlyimpatience. The physician next made a thorough examination, for whichhe was better fitted than many a fashionable city practitioner, byreason of his familiarity with wounds of all kinds. 

When he arose Santry, who had watched him as a cat watches a mouse, forced himself to speak, for his throat and mouth were dry as a bone. 

"Well, Doc, how about it?"

"Oh, he won't die this time; but he may lie there for some weeks. So faras I can tell the bullet just grazed the spinal cord, and it's the shockof that which makes him so quiet now. A fraction of an inch closer andhe would have died or been paralyzed, a cripple, probably for life. Atis it, however, barring the possibility of infection, he should pullthrough. The bullet passed straight through the body without injury toany vital organ, and there is no indication of severe internalhemorrhage. "

Santry moistened his lips with his tongue and shook his head heavily. 

"What gets me, " he burst out, "is that Gawd A'mighty could 'a' let askunk like Moran do a thing like that! And then"--his voice swelled asthough the words he was about to utter exceeded the first--"and then letthe varmint get away from me!"

Dr. Catlin nodded sympathy with the statement and turned to Dorothy. Shehad been anxiously searching his face to discover if he were encouragingthem unduly, and when she felt that he was not stretching the facts atremendous weight was lifted from her mind. 

"You are going to stay here?" he asked. 

"Yes; oh, yes!" she answered. 

"That's good. " He opened his medicine case and mixed a simpleantipyretic. "I'll explain what you're to do then. After that you betterlay down and try to sleep. Wade won't need much for some days, exceptgood nursing. "

"I'm not tired, " she insisted, at which he smiled shrewdly. 

"I'm not asking you if you're tired. I'm telling you that you are. Thosenerves of yours are jumping now. You've got our patient to considerfirst, and you can't look after him unless you keep well yourself. I'mgoing to mix something up for you in a few minutes and then you're goingto rest. A nurse must obey orders. "

He explained to her what she was to do for the patient and then gave hersomething to offset the effects of her own nervous shock. Thencounseling them not to worry too much, for there would be no fatalresult if his directions were followed, the physician mounted his horseand rode back to town. Such journeys were all in the day's work to him, and poor pay they often brought him, except as love of his fellow-menrewarded his spirit. 

During the long days and nights that followed Dorothy scarcely leftWade's bedside, for to her mother now fell the burdens of the ranchhousehold. From feeling that she never would be equal to the task ofcaring for so many people, Mrs. Purnell came to find her health greatlyimproved by her duties, which left her no opportunity for morbidintrospection. 

Santry, too, was in almost constant attendance upon the sick man, andwas as tender and solicitous in his ministrations as Dorothy herself. Heate little and slept less, relieving his feelings by oaths whisperedinto his mustache. He made the ranch hands move about their variousduties as quietly as mice. Dorothy grew to be genuinely fond of him, because of their common bond of sympathy with Wade. Frequently they sattogether in the sickroom reading the newspapers, which came out fromtown each day. On one such occasion, when Santry had twisted his mouthawry in a determined effort to fold the paper he was reading withoutpermitting a single crackle, she softly laughed at him. 

"You needn't be so careful. I don't think it would disturb him. "

The old fellow sagely shook his head. 

"Just the same, I ain't takin' no chances, " he said. 

A moment afterward he tiptoed over to her, grinning from ear to ear, andwith a clumsy finger pointed out the item he had been reading. Anexpression of pleased surprise flooded her face when she read it; theylaughed softly together; and, finding that he was through with thepaper, she put it away in a bureau drawer, meaning to show that itemsome day to Gordon. 

Under the care of Dr. Catlin who rode out from Crawling Water each day, and even more because of Dorothy's careful nursing, the wounded man wasat last brought beyond the danger point and started on the road tohealth. He was very weak and very pale, but the one danger that Catlinhad feared and kept mostly to himself, the danger of blood-poisoning, was now definitely past, and the patient's physical condition slowlybrought about a thorough and complete recovery. 

"Some of it you owe to yourself, Wade, as the reward of decent living, and some of it you owe to the Lord, " Catlin told him smilingly. "Butmost of it you owe to this little girl here. " He patted Dorothy on theshoulder and would not permit her to shirk his praise. "She's been yournurse, and I can tell you it isn't a pleasant job for a woman, tending awound like yours. "

"Is that so?" said Dorothy, mischievously. "That's as much as you knowabout it. It's been one of the most delightful jobs I ever had. "

"She's a wonderful girl, " said Wade, with a tender look at her, afterthey had laughed at her outburst. 

"Oh, you just think that because I'm the only girl around here, " sheblushingly declared, and the physician kept right on laughing. 

"There _was_ another girl here once, " said Wade. "Or at least she actedsomewhat differently from anything you've done lately. "

He was well enough now to receive his friends on brief visits, andTrowbridge was the first to drop in. Dorothy did not mind having Lem, but she was not sure she enjoyed having the others, for she had foundthe close association with Gordon so very sweet; but she told herselfthat she must not be foolish, and she welcomed all who came. Naturallyso pretty a girl doing the honors of the house so well, and so closelylinked with the fortunes of the host, gave rise to the usual deductions. Many were the quiet jokes which the cattlemen passed amongst themselvesover the approaching wedding, and the festival they would make of theoccasion. 

"Well, good-by, Miss Purnell, " said Trowbridge one day, smiling and yetwith a curiously pathetic droop to his mouth. 

"_Miss_ Purnell?" Dorothy exclaimed, in the act of shaking hands. 

"That's what I said. " He nodded wisely. "Good-by, Miss Purnell. "Refusing to be envious of his friend's good fortune, he laughed cheerilyand was gone before she saw through his little joke. 

The next afternoon she was reading to Gordon when the far-away look inhis eyes told her that he was not listening. She stopped, wondering whathe could be dreaming about, and missing the sound of her voice, helooked toward her. 

"You weren't even listening, " she chided, smilingly. 

"I was thinking that I've never had a chance to get into thosechurch-going clothes, " he said, with a return of the old whimsical mood. "But I look pretty clean, don't I?"

"Yes, " she answered, suddenly shy. 

"Hair brushed? Tie right? Boots clean?"

To each question she had nodded assent. Her heart was beating very fastand the rosy color was mounting to the roots of her hair, but sherefused to lower her eyes in panic. She looked him straight in the facewith a sweet, tender, cool gaze. 

"Yes, " she said again. 

"Well, then, give me your hand. " He hitched his rocker forward so as toget closer to her, and took both her hands in this. "Dorothy, I've gotsomething to tell you. I guess you know what it is. " Her eyes suddenlybecame a little moist as she playfully shook her head. "Oh, yes, you do, dear, but I've got to say it, haven't I? I love you, Dorothy. It sort ofchokes me to say it because my heart's so full. "

"Mine is, too, " she whispered, a queer catch in her voice. "But are yousure you love me?"

"Sure? Why, that other was only. .. . "

Withdrawing her hands from his, she laid her fingers for an instant onhis lips. 

"I want to show you something, " she said. 

She went to the bureau, and taking out the paper which she had hiddenthere, brought it to him. It was a moment before she could find the itemagain, then she pointed it out. They read it together, as she and Santryhad done the first time she had seen it. The item was an announcementfrom the Rexhills of the engagement of their daughter Helen to Mr. Maxwell Frayne. 

Dorothy watched Wade's face eagerly as he read, and she was entirelycontent when she saw there no trace of his former sentiment for HelenRexhill. He expressed genuine pleasure that Helen was not to be carrieddown with her father's ruin, but the girl knew that otherwise the newshad left him untouched. She had always thought that this would be so, but she was comforted to be assured of it. 

"Why, that was only an infatuation, " he explained. "Now I'm really inlove. Thank Heaven, I. .. . " When she looked at him there was a light inher glorious violet-shaded eyes that fairly took his breath away. 

"Hush, dear, " she said softly. "You've said enough. I understand, andI'm so. .. . "

The rest was lost to the world as his arms went around her. 

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

Minor changes have been made to make spelling and punctuation consistentthrough the text; otherwise, every effort has been made to be true tothe original book.