Valley of Wild Horses Part 42

"I ought to talk it over with Ma before I buy grub," replied his father, perplexedly scratching his head. "I wish they was home."

"Come on, Blink," called Pan, as he rode out.

Blinky joined him out in the road.

"Pard, I don't get your hunch, but I can see you're oneasy."

"I'm just loco, that's all," returned Pan, forcing himself.

"It's--such--such a disappointment not to see--her.... Made me nervous. Makes me think how anything might happen. I never trusted Jim Blake. And Lucy is only a kid in years."

"Ahuh," said Blinky, quietly. "Reckon I savvy. You wouldn't feel thet way fer nothin'."

"Blink, I'm d.a.m.n glad you're with me," rejoined Pan feelingly, turning to face his comrade. "No use to bluff with you. I wish to heaven I could say otherwise, but I'm afraid there's something wrong."

"Sh.o.r.e. Wal, we'll find out p.r.o.nto," replied Blinky, with his cool hard spirit, "an' if there is, we'll d.a.m.n soon make it right."

They rode rapidly until they reached the outskirts of town, when Blinky called Pan to a halt.

"Reckon you'd better not ride through Main Street," he said significantly.

They tied their horses behind a clump of trees between two deserted shacks. Pan removed his ragged chaps, more however to be freer of movement than because they were disreputable.

"Now, Blink, we'll know p.r.o.nto if the town is friendly to us," he said seriously.

"Huh! I ain't carin' a whoop, but I'll gamble we could own the town.

This fake minin', ranchin', hoss-dealin' Hardman was a hunk of bad cheese. Pard, are you goin' to deny you killed him? Fer sh.o.r.e they've been told thet."

"No. Wiggate can do the telling. All I want is to find Lucy and send her back home, then buy our outfit and rustle."

"Sounds pretty. But I begin to feel hunchy myself. Let's have a drink, Pan."

"We're not drinking, cowboy," retorted Pan.

"Ain't we? Excuse me. Sh.o.r.e I figgered a good stiff drink would help some. I tell you I've begun to get hunches."

"What kind?"

"No kind at all. Just feel that all's not goin' the way we hope. But it's your fault. It's the look you got. I'd hate to see you hurt deep, pard."

They pa.s.sed the wagon shop where Pan's father had been employed, then a vacant lot on one side of the street and framed tents on the other.

Presently they could see down the whole of Main Street. It presented the usual morning atmosphere and color, though Pan fancied there was more activity than usual. That might have been owing to the fact that both the incoming and outgoing stages were visible far up at the end of the street.

Pan strained his eyes at people near and far, seeking first some sign of Lucy, and secondly someone he could interrogate. Soon he would reach the first store. But before he got there he saw his mother emerge, drag Bobby, who evidently wanted to stay. Then Alice followed.

Both she and her mother were carrying bundles. Pan's heart made ready for a second and greater leap--in antic.i.p.ation of Lucy's appearance.

But she did not come.

"h.e.l.lo, heah's your folks, pard, figgerin' from looks," said Blinky.

"What a cute kid! ... Look there!"

Pan, striding ahead of Blinky saw his mother turn white and reel as if about to faint. Pan got to her in time.

"Mother! Why, Mother," he cried, in mingled gladness and distress.

"It's me. I'm all right. What'd you think? ... h.e.l.lo, Bobby, old dirty face... Alice, don't stare at me. I'm here in the flesh."

His mother clung to him with hands like steel. Her face and eyes were both terrible and wonderful to see. "Pan! Pan! You're alive? Oh, thank G.o.d! They told us you'd been shot."

"Me? Well, I guess not. I'm better than ever, and full of good news,"

went on Pan hurriedly. "Brace up, Mother. People are looking.

There... Dad is out home. We've got a lot to do. Where's Lucy?"

"Oh, G.o.d--my son, my son!" cried Mrs. Smith, her eyes rolling.

"_Hush_!" burst out Pan, with a shock as if a blade had pierced his heart. He shook her not gently. "_Where_ is Lucy?"

His mother seemed impelled by his spirit, and she wheeled to point up the street.

"Lucy! There--in that stage--leaving Marco!"

"For G.o.d's--sake!" gasped Pan. "What's this? Lucy! Where's she going?"

"Ask her yourself," she cried pa.s.sionately.

Something terrible seemed to crash inside Pan. Catastrophe! It was here. His mother's dark eyes held love, pity, and pa.s.sion, which last was not for him.

"Mother, go home at once," he said swiftly. "Tell Dad to rush buying those wagons. You and Alice pack. We shake the dust of this d.a.m.ned town. Don't worry. Lucy will leave with _us_!"

Then Pan broke into long springy strides, almost a run. Indeed Blinky had to run to keep up with him. "I told you, pard," said his comrade.

huskily. "h.e.l.l to pay! ---- ---- the luck!"

Pan had only one conscious thought--to see Lucy. All else seemed damming behind flood gates.

People rushed into the street to get out of the way of the cowboys.

Others stared and made gestures. Booted men on the porch of the Yellow Mine stamped noisily as they trooped to get inside. Voices of alarm and mirth rang out. Pan took only a fleeting glance into the wide doorway. He saw nothing, thought nothing. His stride quickened as he pa.s.sed Black's store, where more men crowded to get inside.

"Save your--wind, pard," warned Blinky. "You might--need it."

They reached the end of the street and across the wide square stood the outgoing stage, before the express office. There was no driver on the front seat. Smith, the agent, was emerging from the office with mailbags.

"Slow up, pard," whispered Blinky, at Pan's elbow.

Pan did as he was advised, though his stride still retained speed.

Impossible to go slowly! There were pa.s.sengers in the stagecoach.

When Pan reached the middle of the street he saw the gleam of golden hair that he knew. Lucy! Her back was turned to him. And as he recognized her, realized he had found her, there burst forth in his mind a thundering clamor of questioning voices.

A few more strides took him round the stage. Men backed away from him.

The door was open.

"_Lucy_!" he called, and his voice seemed to come piercingly from a far-off place.