Bransford of Rainbow Range Part 15

The deputy grinned hugely.

"And tell him to come break Jeff out o' jail?" said he. "That don't seem hardly right, considerin'. You write to him--Johnny Dines, Morningside.

You might wire up to Cloudland and have it forwarded from there. I'll pay."

Billy made a note of it.

"They'll be out here in a jiffy now," he said. "Now, Jimmy, you listen to all they tell you; follow it up; make no comments; don't see anything and don't miss anything. Let Lake think he's having it all his own way and he'll make some kind of a break that will give him away. We haven't got a thing against him yet except the right guess. And you be careful to catch your friend without a fight. When you get him I want you to give him a message from me; but don't mention any name. Tell him to keep a stiff upper lip--that the devil takes care of his own. Say the devil told you himself--in person. I don't want to show my hand. I'm on the other side--see? That way I can be in Lake's counsels--force myself in, if necessary, after this morning."

"You think that if you give Lake rope enough----"

"Exactly. Here they come--I hear their chairs."

"Blonde or brunette?" said Jimmy casually.

"Eh? What's that?"

"The something else that you wouldn't tell me about," Jimmy explained.

"Is she blonde or brunette?"

"Oh, go to h.e.l.l!" said Billy.

CHAPTER IX

TAKEN

"Lord Huntley then he did speak out-- O, fair mot fa' his body!-- 'I here will fight doublet alane Or ony thing ails Geordie!

"'Whom has he robbed? What has he stole?

Or has he killed ony?

Or what's the crime that he has done His foes they are so mony?'"

--_Old Ballad._

Hue and cry, hubbub and mystery, swept the Isle of Arcady that morning, but the most painstaking search and query proved fruitless. It developed beyond doubt that the football man had not been seen since his one brief appearance on the ballroom floor. Search was transferred to the mainland, where, as it neared noon, Lake's perseverance and thoroughness were rewarded. In Chihuahua suburb, beyond the north wall, Lake noted a sweat-marked, red-roan horse in the yard of Rosalio Marquez, better known, by reason of his profession, as Monte.

Straightway the banker reported this possible clue to the sheriff and to Billy, who was as tireless and determined in the chase as Lake himself.

The other masqueraders had mostly abandoned the chase. He found them on the bridge of the La Luz sallyport.

"It may be worth looking into," Lake advised the sheriff. "Better send some one to reconnoiter--some one not known to be connected with your office. You go, Billy. If you find anything suspicious the sheriff can 'phone to the hospital if he needs me. I'm going over to see how the old watchman is--ought to have gone before. If he gets well I must do something handsome for him."

Billy fell in with this request. He had a well-founded confidence in Lake's luck and attached much more significance to the trifling matter of the red-roan horse than did the original discoverer--especially since the discoverer had bethought himself to go to the hospital on an errand of mercy. Billy now confidently expected early developments. And he preferred personally to conduct the arrest, so that he might interfere, if necessary, to prevent any wasting of good cartridges. He did not expect much trouble, however, providing the affair was conducted tactfully; reasoning that a dead game sport with a clean conscience and a light heart would not seriously object to a small arrest. Poor Billy's own heart was none of the lightest as he went on this loyal service to his presumably favored rival.

Bicycle-back, he accompanied the sheriff beyond the outworks to the Mexican quarter. Near the place indicated by the banker Billy left his wheel and strolled casually round the block. He saw the red-roan steed and noted the Double Rainbow branded on his thigh.

Monte was leaning in the adobe doorway, rolling a cigarette. Billy knew him, in a business way.

"h.e.l.lo, Monte! Good horse you've got there."

"Yais--tha's nice hor-rse," said Monte.

"Want to sell him?"

"Thees ees not my hor-rse," explained Monte. "He ees of a frien'."

"I like his looks," said Billy. "Is your friend here? Or, if he's downtown, what's his name? I'd like to buy that horse."

"He ees weetheen, but he ees not apparent. He ees _dormiendo_--ah--yais--esleepin'. He was las' night to the _baile mascarada_."

Billy nodded. "Yes; I was there myself." He decided to take a risk: a.s.suming that his calculations were correct, _x_ must equal Bransford.

So he said carelessly: "Let's see, Bransford went as a sailor, didn't he? _Un marinero?_"

"Oh, no; he was atir-re' lak one--_que cosa_?--what you call thees theeng?--_un balon para jugar con los pies_? Ah! si, si!--one feetball!

Myself I come soon back. I have no beesness. The bes' people ees all for the dance," said Monte, with hand turned up and shrugging shoulder.

"So, _media noche_--twelve of the clock, I am here back. I fin' here the hor-rse of my frien', and one _carta_--letter--that I am not to lock the door; _porque_ he may come to esleep. So I am mek to r-repose myself.

Later I am ar-rouse when my frien' am to r-retir-re heemself. Ah, _que hombre_! I am yet to esmile to see heem in thees so r-redeeculous _vestidos_! He ees ver' gay. Ah! _que_ Jeff! Een all ways thees ees a man ver' _sufficiente_, cour-rageous, es-trong, formidabble! Yet he ees keep the _disposicion_, the hear-rt, of a seemple leetle chil'--_un muchacho_!"

"I'll come again," said Billy, and pa.s.sed on. He had found out what he had come for. The absence of concealment dispelled any lingering doubt of Jeff b.u.t.tinski. Yet he could establish no alibi by Monte.

Perhaps Billy White may require here a little explanation. All things considered, Billy thought Jeff would be better off in jail, with a friend in the opposite camp working for his interest, than getting himself foolishly killed by a hasty posse. If we are cynical, we may say that, being young, Billy was not averse to the role of _deus ex machina_; perhaps a thought of friendly grat.i.tude was not lacking. Then, too, adventure for adventure's sake is motive enough--in youth. Or, as a final self-revelation, we may hint that if Jeff was a rival, so too was Lake--and one more eligible. Let us not be cynical, however, or cowardly. Let us say at once shamelessly what we very well know--that youth is the season for clean honor and high emprise; that boy's love is best and truest of all; that poor, honest Billy, in his own dogged and fantastic way, but sought to give true service where he--loved. There, we have said it; and we are shamed. How old are you, sir? Forty? Fifty?

Most actions are the result of mixed motives, you say? Well, that is a notable concession--at your age. Let it go at that. Billy, then, acted from mixed motives.

When Billy brought back his motives--and the sheriff--Monte still held his negligent att.i.tude in the doorway. He waved a graceful salute.

"I want to see Bransford," said the sheriff.

"He ees esleepin'," said Monte.

"Well, I want to see him anyway!" The sheriff laid a brusk hand on the gatelatch.

Monte waved his cigarette airily, flicked the ash from the end with a slender finger, and once more demonstrated that the hand is quicker than the eye. The portentously steady gun in the hand was the first intimation to the eye that the hand had moved at all. It was a very large gun as to caliber, the sheriff noted. As it was pointed directly at his nose he was favorably situated to observe--looking along the barrel--that the hammer stood at full c.o.c.k.

"Per-rhaps you have some papers for heem?" suggested Monte, with gentle and delicate deference. He still leaned against the doorjamb. "But eef not eet ees bes' that you do not enter thees my leetle house to distur-rb my gues'. That would be to commeet a r-rudeness--no?"

The sheriff was a sufficiently brave man, if not precisely a brilliant one. Yet he showed now intelligence of the highest order. He dropped the latch.

"You Billy, stop your laughing! Do you know, Mr. Monte, I think you are quite right?" he observed, with a smiling politeness equal to Monte's own. "That would be rude, certainly. My mistake. An Englishman's house is his castle--that sort of thing? If you will excuse me now we will go and get the papers, as you so kindly pointed out."

They went away, the sheriff, Billy and motives--Billy still laughing immoderately.

Monte went inside and stirred up his guest with a prodding boot-toe.

"Meester Jeff," he demanded, "what you been a-doin' now?"

Jeff sat up, rumpled his hair, and rubbed his eyes.