She shuddered convulsively, yet managed to reply: “He––was trying to––to roll the rock down. Tom, my brother, is right below it. I heard and came to see. His back was to me. I could not shoot––I could not raise my pistol. When I spoke, he whirled and shot at me. He––”
“Kid––shot at you?” cried Knowles. “At you? ’Tain’t possible!”
“He didn’t mean to. He fired before he saw who I was. Then he saw. He forgot everything––everything except that he had shot at me. He backed off––there––over the edge!”
A sudden hush fell on the excited crowd. One man went to peer down from the place to which the girl had pointed. He came back softly. “Same place 376 where the last bunch of sheep went over,” he said. “Rest of us were pretty sick––ready to quit. He kept after them until the last ewe jumped. Said they’d gone to hell, where they belonged.”
“He’s the one that’s gone there!” said the sheriff. “Look at the way this bowlder is pried loose, ready to roll over! Once heard tell that his real dad was Billie the Kid. Some of you mayn’t have heard tell of Billie. He was the coldest blooded, promiscuous murderer of them days when we used to drive from Texas to Montana and the boys used to shoot-up towns and each other just for fun. Well, this Kid Gowan has got Billie’s eyes and slit mouth. Can’t say I ever took to him, but seeing as how he was a crack-up puncher and Wes Knowles’ foreman––”
“That’s it! I can’t understand it––Kid has been almost like a son to me all these years!” complained Knowles perplexedly. He explained to his daughter. “You’re wondering why I didn’t come sooner, honey. Those Utes had been let go. We had to follow them up a long ways. When we got them back and put them on that trail from the waterhole, they found it led straight across the flats to where the horses and wagon had stood. There the tracks of the Indian shoes ended, and the tracks of shod hoofs led off into the brush. We followed them all the way ’round to the lower waterhole and up the lower creek to the ranch, and there they took us right to Rocket’s heels. 377 The Jap said Kid had his saddle in the wagon when he came back from town, and he had a new hat. Mr. Blake did some hot shooting at that assassin on the hill. So, putting two and two together––”
“Oh, Daddy, I know––I knew when I saw him look at Lafe!”
“The––” Knowles choked back the epithet. “Yes, Mrs. Blake told us about that––and about her husband! Jumping Jehosaphat! Think of his being your brother! You must have been plumb locoed, to keep still about that! Why didn’t you tell us, honey?––leastways me, your Daddy!”
“I––I––But about Genevieve? Tell me. You could have come sooner if she––Was she lost? I was sure that pony––”
“Better have given her a fast one. It came on so dark before he was half down the mountain that she was knocked out of the saddle by a branch. He went on down to the waterhole. She tried to catch him––couldn’t. Got lost and wandered all around before she got down to the waterhole and caught him. We had got to the ranch at dusk, and all the posse had turned in for the night. She came loping down the divide just after moonrise. We started as soon as we could rake up all the picket-pins and rope. Wanted Mrs. Blake to wait and come on later; but talk about grit! We simply couldn’t make her stay behind.”