Bransford of Rainbow Range Part 23

Another silence. Then Jeff roused himself, with a start.

"I'll tell you what, Gibson, you'd better cut loose from me. So far as I can see, you are only a kid. You don't want to get mixed up in a murder sc.r.a.pe. This would go pretty hard with you if they can prove it on you.

Of course, I'm awfully obliged to you and all that; but you'd better quit me while the quitting's good."

"Oh, no; I'll see you through," said Gibson lightly. "Besides, I know you had nothing to do with the murder."

"Oh, the h.e.l.l you do!" said Jeff. "That's kind of you, I'm sure. See here, who'd sold you your chips, anyway? How'd you get in this game?"

"I got in this game, as you put it, because I jolly well wanted to,"

replied Charley, with becoming spirit. "That ought to be reason enough for anything in this country. Nothing against it in the rules--and I don't use the rules, anyhow. If you must have it all spelled out for you--I knew, or at least I'd heard, that your friends were away from Rainbow; so I judged you wouldn't go up there. Then I knew those four amateur Sherlocks--they're in my set in Arcadia. When two of the deerhunters, after starting at two A.M., came back to Arcadia the same morning they left, looking all wise and important, and slipped off on the train to Escondido, saying nothing to any one--and when the other two didn't come home at all--I began to think; went down to the depot, found they had gone to Escondido, and I came on the next train. I found out Pappy was your friend; and when he got your little hurry-up call I volunteered my services, seeing Pappy was too old and not footloose anyhow--with a wife and property. That's the how of it."

"Oh, yes, that's all right; but what makes you think I'm innocent?"

"I know Mr. White, you see. And Mr. White seems to think that at about the time the bank was robbed you were--in a garden!" Charley's voice was edged with faint mockery.

"Huh!" said Jeff, startled. "Who in h.e.l.l is Mr. White?"

"Mr. White--in h.e.l.l--is the devil!" said Charley.

At this unexpected disclosure Jeff lashed his horse to a gallop--his spurs, you remember, being certain feet under the Ophir dump--and strove to bring his thoughts to bear upon this new situation. He slowed down and Charley drew up beside him.

"You seem to have stayed quite a while--in a garden," suggested Charley.

"That tongue of yours is going to get you into trouble yet," said Jeff.

"You'll never live to be grayheaded."

Charley was not to be daunted.

"Say, Jeff, she's pretty easy to get acquainted with, what? And those eyes of hers--a little on the see-you-later style, aren't they?"

Jeff turned in his saddle.

"Now you look here, Mr. Charley Gibson! I'm under obligations to you, and so on--but I've heard all of that kind of talk that's good--_sabe_?"

"Oh, I know her," persisted Charley. "Know her by heart--know her like a book. She made a fool of me, too. She drives 'em single, double, tandem, random and four abreast!"

"You little beast!" Jeff launched his horse at the traducer, but Gibson spurred aside.

"Stop now, Jeffy! Easy does it! I've got a gun!"

"Shut your d.a.m.n head then! Gun or no gun, don't you take that girl's name in your mouth again, or----Hark! What's that?"

It was a clatter far behind--a ringing of swift hoofs on hard ground.

"By George, they're coming! Griffith will be a man yet!" said Jeff approvingly. "Come on, kid; we've got to burn the breeze! I suppose that talk of yours is only your d.a.m.n fool idea of fun, but I don't like it.

Cut it out, now, and ride like a drunk Indian!" He laughed loud and long. "Think o' that candle, will you?--burning away with a clear, bright, steady flame, and n.o.body within ten miles of it!"

They raced side by side; but Gibson, heedless of their perilous situation, or perhaps taking advantage of it, took a malicious delight in goading Jeff to madness; and he refused either to be silent or to talk about candles, notwithstanding Jeff's preference for that topic.

"I'm not joking! I'm telling you for your own good." Here the tormentor prudently fell back half a length and raised his voice so as to be heard above the flying feet. "Hasn't she gone back to New York, I'd like to know, and left you to get out of it the best way you can? She could 'a'

stayed if she'd wanted to. Don't tell me! Haven't I seen how she bosses her mother round? No, sir! She's willing to let you hang to save herself a little slander--or, more likely, a little talk!"

Jeff whirled his horse to his haunches, but once more Gibson was too quick for him. Gibson's horse was naturally the nimbler of the two, even without the advantage of spurs.

"That's a lie! She was going to tell--she was bound to tell; I made her keep silent. After I jumped out she couldn't well say anything. That's why I jumped. Was I going to make her a target for such vile tongues as yours--for me? Oh! You ought to be shot out of a red-hot cannon, through a barbed-wire fence, into h.e.l.l! You lie, you coward, you know you lie!

I'll cram it down your throat if you'll get off and throw that gun down!"

"Yah! It's likely I'll put the gun down!" scoffed Gibson. "Ride on, you fool! Do you want to hang? Ride on and keep ahead! Remember, I've got the gun!"

"Hanging's not so bad," snarled Jeff. "I'd rather be hung decently than be such a thing as you! Oh, if I just had a gun!"

The sound of pursuit was clearer now; and, of course, the pursuers could hear the pursued as well and fought for every inch.

Jeff rode on, furious at his helplessness. For several miles his tormentor raced behind in silence, fearing, if he persisted longer in his evil course, that Jeff would actually stop and give himself up. They gained now on their pursuers, who had pressed their horses overhard to make up the five-mile handicap.

As they came to a patch of sandy ground they eased the pace somewhat.

Charley drew a little closer to Jeff.

"Now don't get mad. I had no idea you thought so much of the girl----"

"Shut up, will you?"

"----or I wouldn't have deviled you so. I'll quit. How was I to know you'd stop to fight for her with the very rope round your neck? It's a pity she'll never know about it.... You can't have seen her more than two or three times--and Heaven only knows where that was! On that camping trip, I reckon. What kind of a girl is she, anyhow, to hold clandestine interviews with a stranger?... She'll write to you by and by--a little scented note, with a little stilted, meaningless word of thanks. No, she won't. It'll be gushy: 'Oh, my hero! How can I ever repay you?' She won't let you out of her clutches--anybody, so long as it's a man! Here! None o' that!... Go on, now, if you want to live!"

"_Who the h.e.l.l wants to live?_"

A noose flew back from the darkness. Jeff's horse darted aside and Gibson was jerked sprawling to the sand at a rope's end--hat flew one way, gun another. Jeff ran to the six-shooter.

"Who's got the gun now?" he jeered, as he loosened the rope. "I only wish we had two of 'em!"

"You harebrained idiot!" Charley grabbed up his hat and spit sand from his mouth. "Get your horse and ride, you unthinkable donkey!"

"Pleasure first, business afterward!" Jeff unbuckled Gibson's gunbelt and transferred it to his own waist, jerking Gibson to his feet in the violent process. "Now, you little blackguard, you either take back all that or you'll get the lickin' o' your life! You're too small; but all the same----"

"Oh, I'll take it back, you big bully--all I said and a lot more I only thought!" said Charley spitefully. He was almost crying with rage as he limped to his horse. "She's an angel on earth! Sure she is! Ride, you maniac--ride! Oh, you ought to be hung! I hope you do hang--you miserable ruffian!"

The following hoofs no longer rang sharply; they took on a m.u.f.fled beat--they were in the sand's edge not a mile behind.

"Ride ahead, you! I've got the gun, remember!" observed Jeff significantly; "but if you slur that girl again I'll not shoot you--I'll naturally wear you out with this belt."

CHAPTER XV

GOOD-BY

"They have ridden the low moon out of the sky; their hoofs drum up the dawn."--_Two Strong Men_, KIPLING.