Scott Burton on the Range

by Edward G. Cheyney

Scott retreated to his station on the edge of the forest and listened. There were a few faint clicks from the rolling pebbles on the trail and all was still once more. Scott had thought his position was bad enough but it seemed easy when compared with the dilemma of that poor woman, who had felt herself forced to betray her husband to keep him from murder, and to save the man who, she considered, had saved her child. He little thought when he picked the child up on the trail that day that he was piling up such a store of gratitude. In fact he had never even considered that he had really rescued the child; he had simply carried her home.

He certainly felt grateful to Mrs. Dawson. It was not half as hard to wait for trouble when he knew definitely that it was coming as it was to sit around and wonder about it. He could act now. At first he thought that he would go at once to Baxter’s, but he could not resist the temptation to stay and try to find out who the men were who were after him. He went quietly down to the corral, put the saddle and bridle on Jed, and led him out a quarter of a mile in the direction of Baxter’s quarters. He left the horse there in a well-marked spot and stole cautiously back to his station near the cabin.

It was too dark to see his watch, but Scott judged that it must be pretty close to midnight. Once more he settled down to wait and listen but he knew what to expect now and was entirely free from the creepy feeling of uncertainty which had so worked on his nerves earlier in the night. After about an hour’s vigil he thought he heard a faint sound far down the trail. He waited patiently but it was not repeated. That, however, was not significant for they would probably leave their horses at a safe distance and come the rest of the way more quietly on foot. He continued to listen intently.

In about half an hour his patience was rewarded. A twig snapped in the direction of the corral and a dark shadow crawled slowly toward the cabin. Scott sat as still as the tree against which he leaned. It made him shudder to think that he might have been in that cabin with that crawling shadow sneaking up on him. The man moved very cautiously and as silently as the death that he carried. He avoided the glare of the light from the doorway and edged around toward the side next to Scott. His progress was almost imperceptible now but he finally reached the wall. He listened intently for a moment and then raised himself cautiously to a level with the window. For one second he stood in the glare of the lamplight before he realized that there was no one within and then he ducked quickly below the sill. He was quick to recognize the disadvantage of being there in the light with a possible enemy in the dark woods behind him.

Short as the time had been Scott had recognized Dugan and had caught the gleam of light from something which glittered in his hand. It was hard to realize that he had slept with that man for three nights in that very cabin. He did not have long to think about it for Dugan had made certain there was no one in the shack and was retreating to the very patch of shade in which Scott was hiding. He used the same stealthy caution with which he had approached the cabin and seemed to Scott to be gliding toward him for all the world like a snake. There was the same dull reflection every time he advanced his right hand that Scott had noticed in the window. It looked as though they were certain to meet if Dugan held to his present course. Scott almost stopped breathing and braced himself for the encounter. If only the man would come within reach. Scott felt that he could handle Dugan if he could only get hold of him before there was time to shoot.

Steadily the shadow advanced. Only eight feet separated him from the man in the forest when he turned slowly toward the cabin once more and settled down to watch. Scott could not have missed him, as poor a shot as he was, but even now he was glad that he was not armed. The idea of shooting a man in the back even when that man was waiting to do the same thing to him was repulsive to him.

Almost side by side the two men sat and watched in absolute silence. Scott had been still for an hour before he came without suffering the slightest inconvenience, now he suffered agonies. He wanted to sneeze. He itched all over and had an almost uncontrollable desire to scratch. His legs became cramped and he felt that he would have to move them or scream. And still Dugan waited patiently, toying silently with his revolver. Scott saw the ridiculous side of the situation as well as the danger and grinned as he planned what he would do when the day began to break.

Dugan seemed to realize that something was wrong. He rose slowly and walked cautiously back to the window. He was bolder now. His vigil had convinced him that there was no one around. He made a careful survey of the inside of the cabin and then walked boldly off in the direction of the corral.

Scott heaved a great sigh of relief, congratulated himself on his foresight in getting Jed out of the way and sneaked cautiously out to join him. Jed heard him coming and nickered loudly. Scott had no doubt that Dugan heard it, but it was too late now to do him any harm. He swung onto Jed’s back with a feeling of perfect safety and cantered away to Baxter’s.

Baxter was standing in the door of his cabin waiting for him. “I heard your horse a mile away,” he called in cheerful greeting. “Put Jed in the corral and come tell me the story. I have been lying awake all night just to hear it.”