The Last Straw Part 60

"Why, you've been behind this whole thing. It was you called Hepburn to town an' offered him money to use in his dirty work. You paid for this fence of ours. You listened an' used your head. You saw things quicker 'n Hepburn an' Webb did, an' you set them two thinkin' an' they never knew you was doin' it....

"He was th' brains, I tell you!"--with an inclusive gesture to the men who listened so attentively. "He wanted to drive Miss Hunter out worse 'n anybody. He wanted to kill Tom Beck. He didn't have the nerve to do it himself ... in a fair fight. He shot at him one day with a rifle but just as he shot Beck stopped his horse to look at somethin' in his hands, that locket he always wears an' is always lookin' at, I guess.... He didn't know I saw that but I did....

"He was always talkin' Sam McKee, there, up to kill Beck. It's likely McKee shot Two-Bits--"

"He didn't! I didn't do it!"

McKee's voice, an excited cackle, broke in on her but the girl, ignoring, went on:

"... It was just like he tried to talk Webb an' Hepburn into killin'.

That was his way: makin' other folks do th' things he was scared to do!

"An' he was as slick with me as he was with them, with his lies about being called here to help Miss Hunter on business! That's why I didn't think all this out before, that's why I didn't think he was a sneak until now. He ... he said he wanted to marry ... to marry me...."

She put a palm against her lips, tears spilled over her cheeks as she turned. For a brief, heartbroken moment she stood looking into Jane Hunter's face, then bowed her head to the other's shoulder and cried stormily.

Beside the girls was a quick movement, a man uttering one explosive word as though it gave vent to an emotion that had been pent deep in his heart for long and while the black storm clouds seemed to shut down and m.u.f.fle every sound, even Bobby Cole's excited sobbing, Tom Beck cried twice:

"Jane!... Jane!"

Bobby, at that, turned from Jane to her father and the mistress of the H C faced her foreman. When she had first seen him she betrayed little except surprise; now she made one movement as though she would throw herself upon him but again the look in his face checked her.

"You came back to me, Tom," she said.

"Back," he answered.... "But I can't ever come back to ... you...."

It was the miserable self loathing, the shame in his heart, which spoke, and it was that which made her see him, not as the strong man he had been but as a broken, penitent, self denying individual ... denying himself the love that was in her eyes, mingled with the relief at his return and the joy of triumph which still thrilled her ... that love which he felt unworthy to claim because he had doubted it!

And then he changed. A movement sharp, decided, in the group, stiffened him.

"Hold up!" he cried. "Don't one of you move! Jimmy, take two men to the Gap. Hold everybody in this Hole until we can get the sheriff, this'll be a clean-up for--"

A blinding flare, a crash of thunder that tore sky and shook earth, broke in on him. There was a rending of tough timber as the bolt ripped down a cedar, a snorting of horses. And in that stunning instant d.i.c.k Hilton leaped from the group, vaulted to his saddle and las.h.i.+ng the horse frantically, made off.

A revolver cracked, a rifle crashed. Hilton disappeared into a deluge of huge drops that came from the low, scudding clouds. Others got to their horses and a fusillade of shots sounded like the ripping of strong cloth. And above it rang Jane Hunter's voice:

"Tom! Oliver! Hold these men. I'll bring the sheriff! You can spare me and only me!"

With a hoa.r.s.e cry Riley dropped his revolver and clutched at his wounded shoulder. Horses with riders and horses running wild circled the place where a moment before had been a compact group of men, but now Jane Hunter and Tom Beck stood there alone while from all about stabs of fire p.r.i.c.ked the darkness or were lost as the sky blazed, while those who shot scarcely knew whether they were defending themselves from friend or foe.

CHAPTER XXVI

BATTLE!

Jane found herself on the pinto racing through the night, ducking under cedars until she was clear of the timber, cras.h.i.+ng through brush, leaping washes and at her side, silent, close, protecting her, an arm ready to grasp her body should her horse fall, rode Tom Beck.

They made straight across the flat toward the foot of the trail. To their right was shooting and behind them a sharp volley rattled. A stray bullet _zinged_ angrily, close over their heads.

"You've got to get out of this, ma'am," Beck cried. "There'll be h.e.l.l to pay before mornin'. There's nothing they won't do now."

"Tom! You came!"

Her eyes were blinded by tears as she turned her face to him, trying to put into words the forgiveness which she deemed unnecessary and which she knew was the one essential to Tom Beck, which she knew would be almost impossible to convey convincingly. But through the tears she saw the flash of a gun before them and an answering flash. A lengthy flicker of lightning showed two figures. One, d.i.c.k Hilton, horse drawn back on his hocks, revolver lifted. They saw him shoot again and they saw that other figure, Baldy Bowen, who was there to block the trail, crumple in his saddle and sag forward, struggle heavily to regain his position and then, as his frightened horse moved quickly, plunge in an ungainly ma.s.s to the ground.

Beck raised his gun as Hilton's horse leaped for the trail. He shot but the instant of light had pa.s.sed, making the world darker by contrast.

They saw fire shoot from scrambling hoofs.

The burst of rain had ceased, the interval of fury broken; the storm still swirled, roaring, above them, but it was dry and black, threatening, holding in reserve its strength....

The sound of another horse, cutting in before them, running frantically, and Beck's gun hand went up only to poise arrested as a voice came to them with the singing of a rope end that flayed the animal's flanks.

"Go; go! Take me after him!"

It was Bobby Cole's cry. She had seen. She was riding on the trail of the man who would have been her betrayer.

They dismounted hastily and stooped over the figure that lay quiet on the rocks. Jane stilled her sobbing as Beck rolled the body over and felt and listened.

"Dead," he said huskily.

"Dead!" echoed Jane. "d.i.c.k killed him! Oh ... beastly!"

Fresh firing behind them. The shout of a man and an answer. More shots, coming closer.

"You've got to get out," Beck said lowly, lifting her from her knees beside the dead rider. "There'll be h.e.l.l here to-night and it's no place for you. You bring the law!"

"I feel as though I should stay. There'll be others killed and it's my fight!"

Hers was a cry of anguish, but he replied:

"You'll save lives by bringin' help. And hurry, ma'am, hurry!"

His only thought was to get her to safety.

A rifle crashed twice not a hundred yards from them and they heard a running horse grunt as spurs raked his sides.

"Get up and get out!" he cried hoa.r.s.ely, fearful that she might insist on lingering in this place which, this night, was well named Devil's Hole.

"There's only one of 'em ahead of you. He's bound only to make his get-away.... An' the Catamount, she'll clear your way if he does turn back!"

He lifted her bodily to her horse.

"It seems my place to stay!" she cried as shots peppered the storm. "To stay with you, Tom!"

"It's your place to get out! Ride!"