It had not been five minutes since Black had embarked on this adventure, but, as he moved up the shore toward the little group of men he had left, he saw that something unexpected had developed.
Prowers was in the saddle and he had his gun out. It was threatening Merrick’s group of rescuers. The cattleman’s thin, high voice came clear to the range rider.
“Don’t you touch me! Don’t you! I’ll fill you full of lead sure’s you move an inch, Merrick.”
Then, swiftly, he swung his horse round and galloped away.
Out of the hubbub of explanation Black gathered the facts. The man whom Prowers had lured from the dam with a message that his wife was worse had stopped for later information at a ranch house on the way down. He had telephoned his house and talked with his wife. He was perplexed, but relieved. After an hour’s chat at the ranch, he had headed for the dam and reached the scene in time to identify Prowers as he left.
A minute ago he had arrived and told what he knew. The engineer had accused Prowers point-blank of the crime. His men had talked of lynching, and Prowers had fled.
Black did not discuss the situation. He returned to camp, saddled a horse, and took from his roll of bedding a revolver. Five minutes later he was jogging into the hills. A day of settlement had come between him and the man who had deflected him from the straight and well-worn trails of life.
He knew the size of his job. Jake was a bad man with a gun, swift as chain lightning, deadly accurate in aim. It was not likely that he would let himself be taken alive. The chances were that any man who engaged in a duel with him would stay on the field of battle. Don accepted this likelihood quietly, grimly. He meant to get Jake Prowers, to bring him in alive if possible, dead, if he must.
The range rider had no qualms of conscience. Prowers had probably drowned several innocent people, very likely Betty and her little sister among them. The fellow was dangerous as a mad wolf. The time had come to blot him out. He, Don Black, was the man that ought to do it. If Jake surrendered, good enough; he would take him to Wild Horse. If not—
So his simple mind reasoned foggily. He was essentially a deputy sheriff, though, of course, he had not had time to get Daniels to appoint him. That was merely a formality, anyhow.