"Two green lights if they have pulled it off and want us to wait!" That was what Ranlett had said. Some fugitive lines flicked tantalizingly on the screen of Tommy's memory, then steadied:
"But to every man there openeth
A high way and a low,
And every man decideth
The way his soul shall go."
That settled it. He'd hold his prisoners and take his chance.
CHAPTER XVII
She had been right in her suspicions of the Man of Mystery, Jerry thought, as she put spurs to her horse. The words Beechy had called after her echoed in her mind. "Tell Greyson if he gets a chance—to put a bullet through the man—Ranlett took on in—my place—that range-rider at Bear-Creek ranch." It was growing dark. Heavy clouds had rolled up. She had some difficulty in forcing Patches from the old pack-trail which eventually led to home and supper. She cut across fields, splashed through the stream, then headed for the X Y Z ranch-house whose lights seemed like will-o'-the-wisps. The longer she rode the more they receded.
She determined not to worry about Beechy. He had promised that he would try to get to the Double O and she knew that he would win out. The unexpected would happen to help him, as nine out of ten times it did when one was in dire straights. With the thought came a vision of her father; she could see his massive head, his shrewd eyes, hear his deep voice saying:
"I have a firm conviction, that a person can through any worthy thing on which he is determined; how else do you account for the seeming miracles of heroism men got away with in the World War? The test is, how much do you want it? I've gone on that principle all my life and it's worked, I tell you, it's worked."
It was curious how that memory of her father vitalized her. Jerry straightened in the saddle. She felt as though she had been warmed, fed, had had the elixir of courage poured through her veins. Beechy would come through. All she need think of was her part.
It was quite dark when she reached the X Y Z. The air stirred in hot gusts; from far off came the rumble of thunder. Patches was matted with sweat and dust. Ito, the Jap, opened the door in response to her knock. From behind him came the sound of voices, the tinkle of silver, the ripple of a woman's laugh. Felice Denbigh! Jerry had forgotten her. For an instant she visualized the gold hair, the gold eyes with their tigerish spots, the alluring chiffoned daintiness of the woman. With a shrug she looked down at her own torn, dusty riding clothes. She would hate to meet the ultra fashionable Mrs. Denbigh now. Felice must not know that she had come; she might ruin everything. Jerry had an intuition that she would stop at nothing to humiliate the girl Steve had married. She caught the astonished Ito by the lapels of his coat and drew him into the shadow.