CHAPTER XXII
UNDER THE RIDGE
At day's end, some forty-eight hours after parting with Johnny Ramsay and Chuck Morgan, Loudon and Laguerre rode up to the Bar S line-camp on Pack-saddle Creek. Hockling and Red Kane were unsaddling.
"Hello, rustler!" bawled Red Kane. "Don't yuh know no better'n to come fussin' round me when I'm broke? There's two hundred dollars reward for yuh."
"Howdy, Red," said Loudon, grinning. "Hello, Hock. Shake hands with my friend, Mr. Laguerre. Telescope, these here bandits are Mr. Hockling an' Mr. Kane—Red for short. Boys, did I hear yuh say two hundred? Well, that shore makes me plumb ashamed. A thousand ain't none too much for a road-agent like me."
"Yo're right it ain't," laughed Hockling. "But say, Tom, no jokin', yesterday Red an' me cut the trail o' six deputies—yeah, some o' that Farewell crowd—an' they was a-huntin' for yuh. It was them told us about the reward."
"Where'd yuh meet 'em?" questioned Loudon.
"Down on the Lazy. They was ridin' east."
"Headin' for the Cross-in-a-box likely."
"Dunno as they'll go that far. From what they said I guess now they think yo're either on this range or holin' out in the Fryin' Pans. Red asked 'em didn't they need some more men—said six gents didn't seem none too plenteous for the job. They got kind o' mad, but they managed to hawg-tie their tempers. I dunno why."
"No, yuh don't!" chuckled Red Kane. "Why, gents, Hock had his Winchester across his horn an' was a-coverin' 'em the whole time. Quarrelsome feller, that Hock. Just as soon shoot yuh as say howdy."
"I never did like that Farewell gang," Hockling explained, shamefacedly. "They always remind me o' kyotes, rattlers, an' such. Anyway, Tom, the outfit's with yuh. If them fellers jump yuh, Farewell will see some fun. Speakin' o' fun, Farewell ain't knucklin' to Block any too much lately. Mike Flynn an' Buck Simpson had words the other day, an' Buck got fourteen buckshot in his leg. He was lucky he didn't lose his foot. Buck bein' a plumb favouryte o' the sheriff, Block come bulgin' down to arrest Mike, an' Mike he stood off the sheriff with a Winchester, an' cussed him to hellenback, an' the sheriff didn't arrest him. Now Mike's friends take turns livin' with him, an' keepin' guard while he sleeps. Dunno how it'll end. Be a blowoff mighty soon, I guess."
"You bet," concurred Loudon. "Seen anythin' o' Marvin or Rudd lately?"
"Seen Rudd down near Box Hill two days ago. He was over on our side the creek. Said he was huntin' strays. I knowed he was lyin', an' I watched him from the top o' Box Hill till he went back."
"Yeah," cried Red Kane, busy at the cooking-fire, "Hock come in that night a-cussin' an' a-swearin' 'cause Rudd hadn't given him a chance to finish what Cap'n Burr started. Talked real brutal 'bout Rudd, Hock did. Me, I like the 88 outfit. They're real gentle little woolly lambs, an' some day when I ain't got nothin' else to do I'm goin' over there with a rifle an' make 'em a heap gentler."
"Yuh'll have the chance before a great while," Loudon said, seriously.
"Is it them cows we lost?" inquired Hockling, eagerly.
"I can't tell yuh yet awhile," replied Loudon. "Just keep yore mouths shut an' be ready."
"Them's the pleasantest words I've heard in years," stated Red Kane. "Grub pile, folks. Come an' get it."
Loudon and Laguerre spent the night at the line-camp. In the morning they recrossed the creek. They rode with Winchesters across their laps, and they took advantage of every bit of cover the broken country afforded. Occasionally they halted, and one or the other went forward on foot and spied out from ridge-crest or knoll-top the line of advance.
By ten o'clock they had worked south to the foot of a plateau-like ridge opposite Box Hill and about a mile from the creek. For the tenth time that morning Loudon dismounted. He sweated up the incline, panted across the broad flat top of the ridge, and plumped himself down behind an outcrop on the edge of the reverse slope. He took off his hat, poked his head past the ragged corner of the rock, and peered down into a wide-bottomed draw.
What he saw was sufficiently amazing. Halfway down the reverse slope, where a stunted pine grew beside a boulder, a man lay on his stomach. Loudon could see only his legs. The branches of the pine concealed the upper half of his body. At the bottom of the slope, outlined against a thicket of red sumac, Kate Saltoun, mounted on a black horse, was talking to the puncher Rudd.
The duplicity of woman! Loudon's first thought was that Kate was at her old-time tricks—flirting again. His second was that she was aiding the 88 in their nefarious practices.
What did it mean? Loudon, his eyes hard as gray flint, edged noiselessly backward, and sat up behind the outcrop. He signalled Laguerre by placing two fingers on his lips, pointing over his shoulder, and holding up one finger twice.
Then Loudon flattened his body at the corner of the outcrop, shoved his rule forward, and covered Rudd. Forefinger on trigger, thumb ready to cock the hammer, he waited.
He could not hear what the two by the sumac bushes were saying. They were fully a hundred yards distant. But it was evident by the way Kate leaned forward and tapped her saddle-horn that she was very much in earnest. Frequently Rudd shook his head.
Loudon heard a faint rustle at his side. He turned his head. Laguerre was crawling into position.
"Dunno who that sport under the pine is," whispered Loudon. "You take him anyhow, an' I'll take Rudd. Get 'em both without a shot. It's a cinch."
Suddenly, after a decidedly emphatic shake of Rudd's head, Kate's figure straightened, and she struck her saddle-horn a sharp blow with the flat of her hand. It was an action characteristic of Kate. She always employed it when annoyed.
Loudon smiled grimly. With an impatient tug Kate pulled a white object from her saddle-pocket and flung it at Rudd. Then she wheeled her horse on his hindlegs, jumped him ahead, and set off at a tearing run.
Rudd stooped to pick up the fallen white object, and Loudon opened his mouth to bawl a command when he was forestalled by the watcher under the pine.
"Hands up!" came in the unmistakable bellow of Marvin, the 88 range-boss.
Rudd stood up, his hands above his head. The white object lay at his feet. Kate had halted her horse at Marvin's shout. She turned in her saddle and looked back.
"Keep a-goin', lady!" yelled Marvin. "You've done enough, you have! Now you wander, an' be quick about it!"
"Shut up, Marvin!" called Loudon. "You always did talk too much! Keep yore paws up, Rudd! This ain't nothin' like a rescue for yuh!"
"You know dat feller under de tree?" demanded Laguerre.
"Not the way you mean, Telescope," replied Loudon, without removing his eyes from Rudd. "He's one o' Blakely's gang—their range-boss."
"Geet up on you han's un knees, you feller," instantly ordered Laguerre, "un move back slow."
Loudon and Laguerre, covering their men, moved down the slope. The 88 puncher took his defeat well. The light-blue eyes above the snub nose met Loudon's stare serenely.
"Yo're a whizzer," observed Rudd. "I wouldn't play poker with yuh for a clay farm in Arkinsaw. Yo're too lucky."
"It's a habit I've got," said Loudon. "Now if I was you, Rudd, I'd lower my left hand nice an' easy, an' I'd sort o' work my gun-belt down till it slid over my knees, an' I could step out of it."
Rudd complied with this suggestion, and obeyed Loudon's request that he step rearward a few feet and turn his back. Loudon laid down his rifle and drew his six-shooter. With his left hand he scooped the belt to one side and picked up the white object. His eyes told him that it was a lady's knotted handkerchief, and his fingers that three twenty-dollar gold pieces were contained therein. Loudon could not have been more astounded if Rudd had suddenly sprouted two horns and a tail.
"Good-bye one small drunk an' a new saddle," remarked Rudd, hearing the clinking of the gold.
"You —— sneak!" snarled Marvin, approaching under convoy of Laguerre. "I wondered what yuh wanted yore money for this mornin'. I've been watchin' yuh for the last two weeks. I seen yuh a-comin' back from the Bar S range three days ago. Tryin' to sell us out, huh?"
"Yo're a liar," retorted Rudd, calmly. "I ain't tellin' nothin' I know. Not that I know nothin' nohow."
"By ——, gents!" exclaimed Marvin. "I ask yuh as a favour to just gimme ten minutes barehanded with that tin-horn! Yuh can do what you like with me after."
"We will anyway," said Loudon.
"What is this—a sewin' circle?" Rudd inquired, contemptuously. "I'd as soon die o' snakebite as be talked to death."
"Well, if I was you, Tom Loudon," sneered Marvin, "I'd try to find out just what Rudd means by meetin' Old Salt's girl. There may be more to it than——"
"Come round in front here, Marvin," commanded Loudon. "Come all the way round. That's it. Telescope, will yuh kindly keep an eye on the other party? Now, Marvin, get down on yore knees. Down, yuh yellow pup! Yo're a-crowdin' the Gates Ajar so close yuh can hear 'em creak. Marvin, say, 'I'm ashamed o' myself, an' I take it back, an' I didn't mean nothin' nohow.' Say it out real loud."
Slowly, his face a mask of venomous hate, Marvin repeated the words.
"Get up, an' face round," continued Loudon. "No, not so close to Rudd. About five yards to his right, so yuh won't be tempted."
For the past two minutes Loudon had been aware of Kate's approach. But he did not turn his head even when she halted her horse almost beside him.
"What do you intend doing with these men, Tom?" she inquired, a perceptible pause between the last two words of the sentence.
"Take 'em to the Cross-in-a-box," replied Loudon, without looking at her. "They'll hang—in time."
"May I have a few words alone with you?"
"Shore, ma'am, shore. I guess two won't be too many to watch, Telescope."
He walked at Kate's stirrup till they were out of earshot. Then he turned and looked up into her face in silence. She gazed at him with a curious, questioning look in her black eyes.
She had become thinner since their last meeting. But her lips were as red as ever. She had lost none of her beauty. Loudon raised his hand. In the open palm was the knotted bit of linen containing the gold pieces.
"Here's yore handkerchief," said he.
Kate made no move to take it. Instead, she continued to look at him, a crooked little smile on her lips. Loudon was the first to lower his gaze. His arm dropped to his side.
"You are trying to be disagreeable," said Kate, "and you succeed in being foolish. The money belongs to that man. He earned it, and it's his."
"It won't do him any good," muttered Loudon.
"That depends on how he spends it."
"He'll never live to spend it."
"You're mistaken. You will let him go."
"That's likely, that is!"
"It's quite likely. In fact, it's a certainty. You will let Rudd go."
"Djuh know he's a hoss thief? Do yuh? I've got proof. He's one o' the bunch stole Scotty's hosses. An' yuh want me to let him go?"
"I want you to let him go."
"Well, I won't."
"Listen, Tom, listen to me, please. And take off that horrid, stubborn expression. You look exactly like a sulky child. There, that's much better. Don't smile if it hurts you, grumpy. There, I knew it would come. Oh, it's gone again. Well, anyhow, you haven't forgotten how to smile, and that's a blessing."
"I hate to hurry yuh, but——"
"I know what a bore it is to be compelled to listen to me, but you'll have to endure the ordeal. Listen, if it hadn't been for me Rudd wouldn't have been here to-day, and you wouldn't have caught him."
"We'd have caught him later."
"Perhaps you wouldn't. At any rate, he'd probably have had a chance to make a fight. As it is, he was caught like a rat in a trap. And if it wasn't for me he wouldn't be in the trap."
"Marvin would 'a' got him if we didn't."
"Marvin has nothing to do with it. The fact remains that I am to blame for the capture of Rudd."
"We're much obliged to yuh."
"That isn't worthy of you, Tom."
"I beg yore pardon. I was too quick."
"Granted. You were. Since I am to blame, I can do no less than see that he goes free."
"It's no use a-talkin'. He don't go free."
"He will—if I have to keep you here till doomsday. Listen, did you remark the sublime manner in which Marvin jumped at conclusions? You did. Exactly."
"I knowed he was wrong, o' course."
"Oh, you did. How did you know?"
"Well—I—knowed you."
To Loudon's astonishment Kate burst into shrill laughter.
"For this certificate of good character I thank you," said she, wiping her eyes. "Heavens, if you hadn't made me laugh I'd have gone off into hysterics! What odd minds you men have. Upon my word, I—but no matter. Marvin has no grounds for saying that Rudd tried to sell out the 88. I ought to know. I did my best to pump him, but I couldn't get a word out of him. He is a clam. I worked so hard, too. It made me frightfully angry."
"So that was it! I know yuh was mad about somethin' when yuh banged yore horn thataway an' throwed that handkerchief at him. But—but—say, what was the money for, anyhow?"
"That I cannot tell you. I am endeavouring at the present moment to point out the difference between Marvin and Rudd. Marvin thought—various things, while Rudd, with good reason for believing that I had betrayed him—it really had a suspicious look about it, you know—uttered no word of reproach."
"Well, just 'cause he acts like a white man, is that any reason for lettin' him go?"
"It is my reason for standing by him."
"Well, you've stood by him. Yuh can't do more. An' it ain't done a bit of good."
"If you knew what he did you'd let him go."
"I do know. That's why I'm freezin' to him."
"If you knew what he did for—for me," patiently persisted Kate, "you'd let him go."
"What did he do for you?"
"I can't tell you. Take my word for it, can't you?"
"How can I? He's a hoss thief."
"Listen, he was leaving this country. He's quitting the 88 for good. If he had gotten away he'd never have troubled again the Lazy or Dogsoldier ranches. What, then, will you gain by hanging him?"
"It's the law, Kate—the law of the range. You know that."
"Law! Piecrust! If I told you that Rudd had saved my life at the risk of his own would you let him go?"
"An' he took money for that?" Disgust was rampant in Loudon's tone.
"The taking part is neither here nor there. Remains the fact of his saving my life—at the risk of his own, remember. Now will you let him go? Oh, it's no use asking him," she added, quickly, as Loudon half turned. "He'd probably deny it."
"Oh, what's the use, Kate?" exclaimed Loudon, impatiently. "If Rudd had stolen my hoss or done somethin' special to me I'd let him go to oblige yuh, but it's Scotty has the say. His hosses was stole. An' I'm workin' for Scotty. Can't yuh see how it is?"
"I see that you intend to deny my request," Kate said, her black eyes fixed unwaveringly on Loudon's gray ones.
"I've got to."
"Very well. But suppose we have Rudd come here a moment. I'd like you to hear what he has to say. Oh, I'll make him talk."
"But——"
"Good heavens! You're not going to refuse me this little favour, are you? Rudd's a prisoner. He can't get away. Call him over, and afterward if you intend to hold him there's nothing to prevent you."
Loudon shouted to Laguerre. Rudd, his arms still elevated, walked toward them slowly. Loudon kept him covered. Kate dismounted, leaving the reins on her horse's neck.
"Tom," said she, "give me that money, please. I'd like to give it to him myself."
Loudon handed her the handkerchief. Kate took it and leaned against her horse's shoulder. One arm was flung across the saddle. Rudd halted in front of Loudon. Kate, holding the horse by the bit, stepped forward and stood beside Loudon.
"Here he is," said Loudon. "What——"
With surprising agility Kate whirled, seized Loudon's gun hand in a desperate grip and jammed her thumb down between the hammer and the firing-pin. Her left arm encircled his waist, and her head was twisted sidewise under his chin.
"Run!" she panted. "My horse! The money's in the saddle-pocket!"
Kate hardly needed to speak. Rudd had leaped the instant Loudon's six-shooter was deflected. Before the word "saddle-pocket" had passed Kate's lips Rudd was in the black's saddle, and the animal was thundering away at a furious gallop.
Loudon, straining to break the girl's hold without hurting her, failed lamentably. The two struggling figures swayed to and fro, Kate, her teeth set, hanging on like a bulldog. Loudon's muscles suddenly relaxed.
"All right," he said, "he's out o' range."
Kate loosened her hold on his waist and endeavoured to draw back. But her right hand was fast.
"You pulled the trigger, Tom," said she, calmly. "My thumb's caught."
Loudon raised the hammer, and the hand fell away. The tender flesh of the thumb was cruelly torn. The blood dripped on the grass. Loudon holstered his six-shooter.
"Gimme yore hand," ordered Loudon, roughly.
He lifted her hand, placed her thumb to his lips, and sucked the wound clean. Kate watched him in silence. When the edges of the torn flesh were white and puckery Loudon cut away part of Kate's sleeve and made a bandage of the fabric.
"Guess yuh'll be all right now," he said. "But yuh hadn't ought to 'a' done a fool trick like that. Yuh might 'a' got lockjaw."
"Thank you," Kate said, white-lipped. "Why—why don't you give me fits for—for helping him to escape?"
"It's done," Loudon replied, simply. "Yuh had yore reasons, I guess."
"Yes, I had my reasons." Kate's tone was lifeless.
Without another word they walked back to where Laguerre stood beside the sumac bushes. The half-breed's face was impassive, but there was a slight twinkle in his eye as he threw a quick look at Kate.
"You'll be leavin' us now, Miss Saltoun," observed Loudon, coldly. "I'll get yuh Rudd's pony."
Silently he led forward Rudd's rawboned cayuse and held him while Kate mounted. She settled her feet in the stirrups and picked up the reins. She met Loudon's gaze bravely, but her eyes were shining with unshed tears. Kate slid her tongue across the edges of her dry lips. She tried to speak, but could not. She bowed her head and touched her horse with the spur.
"Where's yore hoss, Marvin?" inquired Loudon.
"Over behind the ridge in a gully," replied Marvin. "What yuh goin' to do with me?"
"Hang yuh—in time."
"What for?"
"For bein' too active, Marvin, an' for pickin' the wrong friends. Yuh see, Marvin, we've caught Bill Archer an' the Maxson boys, an' the hosses are waitin' for Scotty in Cram an' Docket's corrals in Piegan City. Shorty Simms has cashed. Rudd's wandered, an' now we've caught you. We're sort o' whittlin' yuh down like. When Scotty comes we'll get the rest o' yuh. Yuh see, Marvin, yuh hadn't ought to 'a' used Bill Archer. He talks when he's drunk."
To this statement Marvin immediately attributed the most sinister meaning even as Loudon intended he should. Wherein he had failed with Archer, Loudon hoped to succeed with Marvin. The latter, given time to consider impending death might, if promised immunity, talk freely.
"Where we goin' now?" Marvin inquired, uneasily.
"To the Cross-in-a-box," replied Loudon, strapping on Rudd's cartridge-belt—Laguerre was wearing Marvin's. "I want Jack Richie to see yuh. An' don't get talkative about how Rudd got away. I tell yuh flat if yuh open yore mouth about that lady yuh'll be committin' suicide."
"Dat ees right," declared Laguerre, staring fixedly at the range-boss. "Only you un Rudd was here. I see nobody else."
"You hear, Marvin," Loudon said, grimly. "Now stick yore hands behind yore back. I'm goin' to tie 'em up."
Marvin swore—and obeyed.
"Don't tie 'em so tight," he entreated.
"Yo're too slippery to take chances on," retorted Loudon. "Seen the sheriff lately?"
"Ain't seen him for a month."
"Yo're a cheerful liar. Still it don't matter much. He'll be gathered in with the rest o' you murderers when the time comes. They say hangin's an easy death—like drownin'. Djever think of it, Marvin?"
That luckless wight swore again. Black gloom rode his soul.
"All set," announced Loudon. "C'mon."
The three plodded up the slope of the ridge. When Loudon's head rose above the crest he saw to his intense disgust that six horsemen were picturesquely grouped about Brown Jug and the gray. The six were staring in various directions. Two were gazing directly at the three on the ridge. Loudon and Laguerre, forgetting their charge for the moment, flung themselves down.
Promptly the six men tumbled out of their saddles and began to work their Winchesters. Loudon, aiming with care, sent an accurate bullet through a man's leg. Laguerre dropped a horse.
Then Loudon, mindful of the prisoner, looked over his shoulder. Marvin, running like a frightened goat, was half-way to the shelter of the sumacs.
"Blow —— out of 'em, Telescope!" cried Loudon. "I got to get Marvin!"
He rolled a few yards down the slope and knelt on one knee. He dropped two bullets in quick succession in front of Marvin's flying feet.
"C'mon back!" he shouted. "The next one goes plumb centre!"
Marvin halted. He returned slowly. Loudon, watching him, became aware that Laguerre's rifle was silent. He glanced quickly around. Laguerre, with his skinning-knife, was picking frantically at a jammed cartridge. At his feet lay Marvin's rifle, the lever half down, and the bullet end of a cartridge protruding from the breech. Both rifles had jammed at the crucial moment.
"Take mine," said Loudon, and tossed his rifle to Laguerre. "'Tsall right, Marvin," he continued in a shout, "Keep a-comin'. I can reach yuh with a Colt! What yuh cussin' about, Telescope? Mine jam, too?"
"Dem feller pull out," growled Laguerre. "While I was try for feex my Winchestair dey spleet un go two way. Dey behin' de nex' heel now. Dey tak' our pony too, —— 'em."
"Set us afoot, huh? That's nice. Couldn't have a better place to surround us in, neither. No cover this side. Let's cross the draw. There's somethin' that looks like rocks over there."
Driving Marvin ahead of them they crossed the draw at a brisk trot and climbed the opposite slope. Loudon had not been mistaken. There were rocks on the ground beyond. From the edge of the draw the land fell away in a three-mile sweep to the foot of a low hill. Loudon grinned.
"They can't Injun up on us from this side," he said. "We'll stand 'em off all right."
Swiftly they filled in with rocks the space between two fair-sized boulders. Then they tied the wretched Marvin's ankles and rolled him over on his face behind their tiny breastwork.
"I don't think any lead'll come through," said Loudon, cheerfully. "It looks pretty solid. But it would shore be a joke if one o' yore friend's bullets should sift through yuh, Marvin, now wouldn't it?"
Leaving Marvin to discover, if Providence so willed, the point of the joke, Loudon picked up his rifle and lay down behind the smallest boulder. Laguerre, lying on his side, was working at his jammed breech action. He worried the shell out at last, and took his place.
Loudon saw Laguerre put a small pebble in his mouth, and he frowned. Not till then had he realized that he was thirsty. He followed Laguerre's example. Pack-saddle Creek was close by, and it might as well have been distant a hundred miles. The thought made Loudon twice as thirsty, in spite of the pebble rolling under his tongue. Far down the draw, on Loudon's side of the breastwork, two riders appeared.
"Two of 'em in sight, Telescope," said Loudon. "See any?"
"Me, no. What dey do, dem two?"
"They're crossin' the draw. Now they're climbin' up. They think we're still where we was. Hope they come right along."
The two riders galloped toward the boulders. Loudon and Laguerre, flattening their bodies, squeezed close to the rock. When the galloping pair were three quarters of a mile distant they halted.
"They don't just like the looks o' these rocks," observed Loudon. "Well, they give us credit o' havin' sense, anyway."
The two horsemen began to circle. Loudon settled himself and squinted along his sights. His finger dragged on the trigger. It was a long shot, and he missed. The two men immediately separated. One rode back over the way they had come. The other galloped out a mile and a half, then turned and rode parallel to the draw. Opposite the rear of the breastwork he halted.
"How they do think of everythin'," remarked Loudon. "But if they guess we can't get away to-night they can guess again. I dunno what we'll do with Marvin. Yo're puttin' us to a heap o' trouble, you are, Mister Range-Boss. Say, while I think of it, have yuh branded anymore Crossed Dumbbell cows?"
Marvin was silent. The mocking voice continued:
"That was shore well thought of, Marvin, but yuh was whirlin' too wide a loop. Instead o' tryin' to make me out a rustler yuh'd ought to 'a' shot me in the back like yuh did the Sheriff o' Sunset."
"I didn't kill him," grunted the stung Marvin.
"I know yuh didn't. When I said you I meant yore outfit. Shorty Simms pulled the trigger."
"Nothin' to do with me."
"Maybe not. We'll see."
"Yuh can't prove nothin'."
"Keep on a-thinkin' so if it helps yuh any. Yuh'd ought to know, Marvin, that in any gang o' thieves there's always one squealer, sometimes two. In this case, one's enough, but we don't object to another."
"Oh, ——!" grunted Marvin. "Yuh give me a pain."
"I expect. Yuh see, Marvin, a while back yuh accused Rudd o' sellin' yuh out. Them words have a right innocent sound, ain't they now? Shore they have. Why, yuh blind fool, do yuh s'pose we'd be a-freezin' to yuh this way if we didn't have yuh dead to rights?"
Marvin lay very still. He almost appeared not to breathe.
"Yuh ain't got out o' this hole yet," he muttered.
"We will, don't yuh worry none about that. An' we'll take yuh with us—wherever we go. Think it all over, Marvin. I may have something' to say to yuh later."
Crack! A rifle spoke on the opposite ridge, and a bullet glanced off Loudon's boulder with a discordant whistle. Crack! Crack! Crack! Long 45-90 bullets struck the breast-work with sharp splintering sounds, or ripped overhead, humming shrilly.
"Let's work the old game on 'em," suggested Loudon. "There's room for two my side."
Laguerre crawled over and lay down beside Loudon. The latter had aligned several large rocks beside his boulder. Between these rocks the two thrust the barrels of their rifles. One would fire. On the heels of the shot an opposing rifle would spit back. Then the other would fire into the gray of the smoke-cloud.
It is an old trick, well known to the Indian fighters. Loudon and Laguerre employed it for half an hour. Then the enemy bethought themselves of it, and Laguerre returned to the other end of the breastwork with a hole in his hat and his vest neatly ripped down the back.
The five deputies kept up a dropping fire. But the two behind the breastwork replied infrequently. Ammunition must be conserved. They anticipated brisk work after nightfall. They waited, vigorously chewing pebbles, and becoming thirstier by the minute. The boulders radiated heat like ovens.
The afternoon lengthened. It was nearing five o'clock when Loudon suddenly raised his head.
"Where was that rifle?" he inquired, sharply.
"Ovair yondair—not on de ridge," replied Laguerre.
"That's what I thought. Maybe—there she goes again. Two of 'em."
The rifles on the ridge snarled angrily. But no bullets struck the breastwork. The barking of the deputies' rifles became irregular, drifted southward, then ceased altogether. A few minutes later five horsemen and a led horse crossed the draw a mile to the south.
"Two of 'em hit bad," declared Loudon.
"Yuh bet yuh," said Laguerre. "See dat! One of 'em tumble off."
"They're gettin' him aboard again. Takin' our hosses along, the skunks! There goes our friend out yonder."
The man who had been watching the rear of the breast-work galloped to meet his friends. Five minutes later they all disappeared behind one of the western hills.
"Hey, you fellers!" bawled a voice from the shelter of the ridge across the valley. "Where are yuh, anyway?"
"That's Red Kane," laughed Loudon, and stood up. "Here we are!" he yelled. "C'mon over! We're all right. Not a scratch!"
Red Kane and Hockling, leading three horses, appeared on the crest of the ridge.