The long arm of the Mounted

by James French Dorrance

"O'Hara is gone, Major—departed with Canada and the two-year-olds!"

Ethel took this shock stoically; asked Fitzrapp to begin at the beginning and forget the if's.

Fitzrapp pulled himself up on the couch, as though to brace himself for a distressing ordeal, and obeyed.

After the departure of Mrs. Andress and her uncle there had been several quiet days, according to Fitzrapp's account. Then O'Hara had come to him with a report that Childress had left his small ranch on the silver stallion, leaving his man, the silent Mahaffy, in charge. O'Hara had interviewed the Irishman that afternoon and reported him about as communicative as a clam. After dinner that evening, Fitzrapp had discussed the rustling with the head buster; had outlined Ethel's plan of baiting the lower range and then falling upon the thieves in force sufficient to crush them.

Then it was that Duncan O'Hara had broached a daring plan. He had reminded Fitzrapp that they were both more or less in the fair owner's bad graces for their failure at the ford. The disgrace of that could be wiped out and their characters restored for the future by baiting the lower range themselves and cutting down the raiders from ambush. In case any escaped their pot shots they would have their speediest mounts in reserve and go after them for a fight to the death. O'Hara had declared that he would rather be dead than live under a cloud of cowardice.

Fitzrapp mentioned his own chagrin over his previous failures, and said that the plausible buster had finally convinced him that they could turn the trick. They had then cut out between thirty and forty of the best two-year-olds and driven them to the lower range with the aid of a couple of Indian herders. To be certain that there could be no escape, Fitzrapp had ridden Canada as the fastest horse on the ranch. Duncan O'Hara had seemed content with the star-faced half-breed that was his regular mount.

Reaching the lower range, the two whites had left the band in charge of the bucks, who were instructed to put up no fight or objection if white men rode up and demanded the horses. Then they themselves had gone into ambush—one which O'Hara had selected as best covering the ford.

Their waiting was rewarded, Fitzrapp continued, toward the end of the second afternoon, when three well-mounted riders appeared from the south. On O'Hara's argument that they should make their proof complete by withholding fire until the raiders had started to run off the band, they had permitted the three to cross the ford. Then they had witnessed a brief parley between the whites and the Indian herders, who fell back according to instructions. The raiders started the racing-stock band toward the ford and the success of the Rafter A coup seemed assured.

Up to the very moment that it was time to fire, Fitzrapp said, he had not the slightest reason to suspect the buster. But, as he whispered, "Let them have it now!" O'Hara had sprung to his feet, bowled Fitzrapp over with a blow from the butt of his Winchester, and dashed for their hidden horses.

Stampeding his own star-face, O'Hara had mounted Canada and ridden off after the raiders. When Fitzrapp covered him with his own rifle and commanded a halt, the traitor had responded with a jeering laugh. On trying to shoot he had made the tragic discovery that there was no cartridge under the hammer and that the repeating mechanism was hopelessly jammed.