the offer of reward for the rustlers operating in rainbow hill valley was without the desired effect. it was worse. the men against whom it was directed received it with deliberate but secretly expressed contempt. nor did chance serve the masters of the obar, as four years before she had served dug mcfarlane.
nor was the failure due to lack of effort. bud left no stone unturned. and jeff--well, jeff did all a man could. the hills were scoured, and the deeps and hidden hollows of the greater foothills. the notices of reward were sent broadcast, even penetrating to the orrville country. they were set up as jeff had promised, on tree trunks in the remoter hills where any chance eye might discover them. where undoubtedly the men who constituted the gang must sooner or later discover them.
the only response was a continuation of the raids.
but a distinct change had taken place in the method of these. whereas, originally, they had been directed against not only the obar ranch, but wherever opportunity offered in the district, they now fastened their vampire clutches upon the obar only, and, finally, on only one section of its territory: the land which belonged to jeff's side of the partnership.
so marked was this that it could not be missed.
the partners were out at a distant station where they had been urgently summoned. a young "hand" had been wounded, a nasty flesh wound in the arm. he had been bringing in a small bunch of steers which had strayed to a distant hollow in the hills. it had been overnight. he was held up, and shot by three outlaws, and his cattle run off.
it was bud who voiced the thought of both partners immediately after a close interrogation of the injured man.
"looks like some low-bred son-of-a-hobo owes you a reckonin' he's yearnin' to git quit of, jeff," he said, the moment they were alone. "they're workin' this way all the time. they ain't so much as smelt around the old 't.t.' territory in days. d'you make it that way?"
jeff nodded.
"sure."
but he made no attempt to throw enlightenment.
"guess you signed the reward."
bud watched the shadowed serious face of his friend.
"maybe it's that." there was something like indifference in the younger man's manner.
perhaps it was this manner which stirred bud's impatience and drove him to resentment.
"say," he cried, in fiercely vibrant tones, "d'you know what it is i got in my head? it's the 'hands' on our range. sure. ther's some lousy guy on the obar working in with the gang. cowpunchers are a mongrel lot anyway. ther' ain't one but 'ud souse the sacrament wine ef the passon wa'an't lookin' on. i guess we'll need to chase up the penitentiary re-cord of every blamed thief on our pay-roll. maybe the cinch we're lookin' fer lies that way."
"it's curious."
"curious? gee, it's rotten!"
the old man's patience completely gave way.
"see right here, jeff. i ain't rattled. not a thing. but ther's got to be some guts put into this thing, an' you an' me's got to find 'em. see? i'm sick to death. right here an' now i tell you ther's goin' to be a rotten piece of trouble around this lay-out, an' i'm goin' to be in it--right up to my back teeth."
it was perhaps the first time bud had displayed impatience with the man who had always been the leading spirit of their enterprise. the truth was, something seemed to have gone out of jeff. he neglected nothing. he spared himself no pains. his physical efforts seemed even to have become greater as the days passed. frequently, now, night as well as day found him in the saddle watching over their interests. he had become a sort of restless spirit urging forward the work, and watching, watching with the lynx eyes dreaded so much by the men who served him. but for all that something had certainly gone out of him, and bud knew and feared its going.
if bud knew and feared the change, he also knew the cause of it. neither he nor nan were blind to the drama silently working out in the other household. it was bitterly plain and almost heart-breaking to the onlookers. the same roof sheltered husband and wife. but no unnecessary word was spoken between them. their meals were taken apart. they were as completely and coldly separate as though they occupied opposite poles. and the girl who recognized these things, and the man who watched them, only wondered how long it must be before the final disaster came upon them.
jeff's moods had become extraordinarily variable. there were moments when his moroseness became threatening. the canker at his heart was communicating itself to his whole outlook, and herein lay the failure in his work.
it was the realization of all this which stirred bud's impatience. he knew that unless a radical change was quickly brought about, the vaunted obar had certainly reached and probably passed its zenith.
finally, he opened his heart to the sure sympathy of nan. he had purposely taken her with him on a boundary inspection amongst the foothills. they were riding through a silent hollow where quiet seemed to lie on the top of everything. even their horses' hoofs failed to make an impression upon it. peace was crowding the woodland slopes, a peace profound and unbreakable.
"the obar's struck a mighty bad patch, nan," he said abruptly. "ef things kep hittin' their present gait, why, i don't jest see wher' we're to strike bottom. the pinch ain't yet, but you can't never kick out a prop without shakin' the whole darned buildin' mighty bad. an' that's how the obar's fixed. ther's a mighty big punch gone plumb out o' jeff's fight, an', well, i guess we're needin' all our punch to fix the things crowdin' around us."
"you mean the rustlers?" nan drove to the heart things without hesitation.
"sure. them an'--other things."
the girl nodded. she knew the other things without asking.
"jeff's in a heap of--trouble," she said with a sigh.
"an' looks like carryin' us along with him--ef we ain't watchin' around."
"we've always kind of leaned on jeff."
"most folks are ready to lean, nan. it sort o' saves 'em a deal of trouble."
"yes. till you kick the prop away."
"sure. our prop's been kicked away, an' we've jest got to git right up on to our hind legs an'--git busy. the leanin' racket's played out fer us. we got to hand jeff a prop now, an' see it don't git kicked away. see?"
for some moments the girl's gaze searched straight ahead of her down the valley. and into her eyes there grew a gentle light of enthusiasm. suddenly she turned upon the great figure on its horse beside her.
"we've stood up on our own years, daddy--before jeff came along. we can stand now, can't we? i guess we're not going to fail jeff now he's in trouble. jeff's been all for us. we're going to be all for him. he needs us, daddy, and--i'm glad in a way. say, my heart nigh breaks every time i peek into his poor sad an' troubled face. jeff's just beating his soul dead. and if the obar gets wrong, it'll sure be the end of everything for him. it mustn't, daddy. things mustn't go wrong. 'deed they mustn't. it's up to us. you must show me how, daddy. you're wise to it all. you're strong. you know. show me. put me wise, an' i'll--take jeff's place."
the girl's words came full of a passionate sincerity. there were no half measures in this child of the prairie. her love was given, a wealth of generous feeling and loyal self-sacrifice. her father read with a rare understanding. and in his big heart, so rough, so warm, he cursed with every forceful epithet of his vocabulary the folly of the man he had marked out for a son.
"we'll make good, or--bust," he said, with a warmth that almost matched the girl's.
then he pointed ahead where the hollow opened out, and a large clump of trees marked dividing ways.
"i guessed you'd best see this. it's one o' them notions o' jeff's. that play ain't worth a cent."
"ah!"
they rode up to the bluff in silence. and after a moment's search bud drew rein before a heavy tree trunk, to which was secured a printed sheet. he pointed at it, and, for a while, neither spoke. nan was taking in the disfigurements with which it was covered, and she read the words written across it in bold but illiterate characters:
"we're wise to her. she don't git no second chanst."
the rest of the disfigurings were mischievous, and of almost indecent character.
"does jeff know?" nan's question was almost a whisper.
"i ain't told him."
bud's reply was one of doubt.
"he--he ought to be told."
then bud suddenly abandoned the restraint he had been exercising.
"oh ----! ther' ain't no use. he can't do a thing. he wouldn't do a thing. i tell you we're jest suckin'-kids in this racket. we got to lie around crazy enough to fancy we're goin' to git the drop on these bums. what a country! what a cuss of a lay-out wher' you got to set around watching a darnation gang o' toughs whittlin' away your work till they got you beat to a mush. here, i'm goin' to start right in. i'm goin' to get around calthorpe. the sheriff's got to git busy, an' earn his monthly pay check. we'll hev to raise vigilantes. i tell you they'll break us else. ef jeff can't see, why, he'll hev to be made to. blast their louse-bound souls to hell!"
and nan welcomed the outburst. rough, coarse, violent. it did not matter. what mattered to her was the purpose. the purpose which she hoped and prayed would help jeff. she had no thought for themselves. their end of the enterprise never came into her considerations. she was thinking of jeff. solely of jeff--the man she loved better than her life.
* * * * * *
the change in elvine was no less marked than it was in jeff. but it was a change in a wholly different direction. she was deeply subdued, even submissive in her attitude. but now after the first crisis and its accompanying pain, a general relief was apparent. a relief which anything but indicated the hopelessness which had at the first overwhelmed her. she was not hopeless. therein lay the key of the matter.
from the time when she had passed through those moments of frenzied despair, after jeff's return from orrville, her decision had been taken with lightning celerity. her back was to the wall, and she meant to fight for all she yearned, desired, by every art she possessed. she knew nothing of the reason which had made her husband return to her. it was sufficient that he had done so. it gave her the vague, wild hope she needed, and with all her might she intended to set herself to the task of winning back her position in his regard.
she was not logical. had she been, she must have accepted the alternative of freedom offered her, and, on a liberal allowance, betaken herself to some selfish, worldly life which might have appealed to her. no, she was not logical. had she been, she would never have loved this man as she now knew better than ever she loved him. she was not logical, but she had courage. it was the same courage which had driven her to fight for that which she had desired years ago. she was going to fight now. and again it was for selfish motives. only this time they took the form of the love of the man she| had married.
she set to work from the very start. her attractions she knew were great. jeff must be made to realize them. he must be made to realize all a woman could mean in this life which was theirs. she would unobtrusively study his interests to the last degree. his position in the ranching world would give her ample scope in this. then there was the work of the ranch. here her earlier experiences would help her materially.
so she laid for herself a deliberate campaign. always counting that his lightest command was her law, and nothing must be permitted to display her desire to break down the barrier he had set up between them.
two days of deep consideration showed her her course. and once having marked it out she set about following it.
her house was her first care. it must be ordered as no other house of its kind was ordered. she thought of every expressed wish of his during their brief engagement and honeymoon, and sorted it into its place in scheme.
then came her place in the work of the range. this was more difficult to take at once by reason of lack of precedent. but by tactful watchfulness she felt it could be accomplished. her first step must be to impress on lal hobhouse her intention, and, in this, even sooner than she had dared to hope, she managed to secure a footing. once her mind was set to achieve a purpose her capacity was beyond all question, and in these troublous times of rustlers the foreman was more than content to welcome her aid.
throughout these days she rarely obtruded herself upon the man she desired most in the world. he might almost have been non-existent. the rare moments in which he spoke to her were met with a cool reserve on her part, which left nothing to be desired, and gave no opportunity for the reopening of those matters which had brought about the position. indeed, elvine had more than reason to be satisfied with her work.
she felt at last that the worst was over, and now it remained for her to win back, step by step, the lost ground, until she had restored herself to her position. it could be done. it should be done, she told herself. she admitted no crime against him. then where was the justice of it? anyway, that fierce dread was off her mind. she knew the worst now. she no longer stood on the brink of an abyss of doubt----
she was in her bedroom considering these things. it was a golden evening and the setting sun was shining athwart her windows. quite suddenly the simple sewing in her fingers dropped upon her lap, and her startled eyes turned upon the wide view of the valley bathed in the perfect evening light.
was she no longer standing upon that brink? the question flashed through her mind as she remembered an incident until then completely lost in the greater issues. it was the threat of that scrawled note which had been flung in at that very window. she even remembered the sensation of the blow which had awakened her on the night of torture during which she had waited for jeff's return from orrville.
she sprang to her feet. every other thought was swept from her mind. and, for a moment, fresh panic stirred her veins. the words of that message. they were unforgettable.
"you sold the lives of men for a price. you had your way then. we're goin' to have our way now. you'll pay for that deal the only way we know."
the only way we know! her memory flew to the man sikkem. oh, she knew him. she had recognized him on the instant of their meeting. she knew he came from orrville. she had seen him there. but---- was he one of the original orrville gang, all unsuspected, or, at least, if not unsuspected, unknown to be?
while she pondered the subject she heard her husband's arrival. she heard him cross the veranda and, pass into the house.
then again she took up the thread of her thought. this man sikkem. if he were one of the orrville gang, what was more likely than that he should have sent that threat? if he sent it, what more likely than that he was one of the gang of rustlers operating here? if he were one of them, then what added significance did it give threat?
a wave of sudden excitement replaced the panic of a moment before. "the only way we know." did that mean raiding her husband's stock and endeavoring so to ruin the obar? it looked like it. it would account for what was being done. but no. that might be part of what was contained in the threat. but not all. the only way we know! the only way this class of man understood paying off a score was different from that. with these men it was always a life for a life. whose? hers? it might be.
the sun had sunk beyond the mountain peaks. in the adjoining living-room she heard the clatter of supper things. jeff was having his meal in the solitude which had become their habit.
if it were her life they intended it would not much matter. but was it? would they punish her that way? to her it did not suggest the refinement of cruelty which would appeal to them. no, there were other signs. their purpose looked to be to ruin the obar, and then--what then? rob her of the man she loved? it could be done. it would be easy, and surely the refinement of it would appeal to natures so ruthless.
her sewing had dropped to the floor. mechanically she picked it up. then and there she purposed to break in upon her husband's meal. but she hesitated, and the impulse passed. instead, she went to a drawer in her bureau and withdrew the folded paper. she read it over and returned to her seat. decision was lacking. her interpretation of the threat had taken strong hold upon her, but she could not decide what best to do. her fine eyes were troubled as she gazed out into the growing dusk. dared she go to him? would he listen?
but once more her thoughts were diverted. the sound of a great clatter of hoofs reached her from the other side of the house. some one had ridden up to the veranda at a great pace. who? and what could the urgency be at such an hour?
she heard jeff moving in the living-room. she heard him pass out on to the veranda. then curiosity, perhaps apprehension, urged her. she passed to the window beyond her bureau, which was near the angle of the building, and leaned out of it. ordinary tones on the veranda would reach her there.
she waited, breathing lightly lest her hearing should be impaired. a strange voice was talking. she could not place it. it was rough, and the language was rough. no doubt it was one of the "hands" from some outlying point.
"they got him through the chest, an' i guess he's goin' to pass in. he sez to me, 'ride like hell an' fetch the boss. tell him i got 'em plumb wher' he wants 'em. i located their lay-out. i ain't got above an hour or so to tell him in. just hike an' ride like ----!'"
then came jeff's voice cold and undisturbed.
"where is he?"
"why, by his shack at spruce crossing. he jest got in, an' nigh fell plumb in his tracks out o' the saddle. i don't guess any feller but sikkem could ha' done it. he's tough--mighty tough."
sikkem! elvine moved from the window. sikkem! her heart was pounding in her bosom, and, for a moment, her brain seemed in a whirl. sikkem had discovered the raiders and was willing to give them away. in a flash she was back in orrville, and her mind was searching amongst shadowy memories that had suddenly become acute. sikkem! sikkem! no. she must see jeff. she must tell him of--sikkem. she must warn him, and show him her note. a sudden, crushing foreboding descended upon her, and she hurried toward the door.
in a few seconds she was on the veranda confronting her husband. for a moment her courage well-nigh failed her. jeff was standing with his back turned toward the sunset. the ranchman was no longer there. he had gone to the barn to order a fresh saddle horse for the master of the obar. apparently jeff had turned to repass into the house.
his fair strong face, serious and cold, was turned directly upon the beautiful figure of his wife, and it was the coldness of it that daunted her now.
"well?"
the bitterness of that frigid, surprised inquiry was crushing. elvine looked into his eyes for one single shadow of softening. she could find none. it shocked the hope she had been steadily building in her heart.
she had no words in which to answer. she stood thus for one uncertain moment. then she thrust out her hand. it contained the threatening message.
"will you read that--at once?"
his cold regard dropped from her face. the man noted the dirty paper in her soft white hand. then he took it. nor did their hands come into contact.
"is it a matter of importance?"
elvine could have cried out with the stab of the question. only some matter of vital importance justified her action in his eyes. her gaze was averted to hide her pain.
"i should not have come to you otherwise."
the man moved to the edge of the veranda to obtain more of the dying light. at that moment the ranchman approached with two saddle horses. elvine scrutinized him carefully. he was a complete stranger to her.
jeff had read the note. he stood regarding the ranchman. suddenly his voice broke sharply.
"leave my horse at the tying post. wait for me at the barn."
he watched the man secure his horse. then he watched him return to the barn. nor did he speak again till he was out of earshot.
at last he turned back to the waiting woman.
"who sent this? when did you get it? how?" the questions came rapidly.
"it came the night you were at orrville. it was flung in through the open window late at night. i'd fallen asleep in my chair--waiting. it hit me on the face. they'd made it fast around a grass-tuft."
"who sent it?"
"it must have been the man, sikkem, who's just sent in word to you he's--shot up."
"sikkem? why?"
suddenly the restraint elvine was exercising gave way. even her husband's deliberate coldness was powerless to stem the tide of conviction which had steadily mounted up within her. the one thought in her mind was that he stood in danger. her reason was slight enough, but her love accentuated her intuition. she saw in her mind the claiming of the toll these men demanded, and to her swift imagination the picture of her husband's murder was complete before her eyes.
"sikkem comes from orrville. he was there--four years ago. there was more than suspicion attached to him. my first day here i met him. maybe you'll remember. he knew me at once. i don't guess there was any mistake. and i knew him. when he heard i was--married to you he pretended he'd mistaken me for--some one else. and when he explained who, and his feelings against that woman--it was me he was describing--i knew he was, as was suspected, one of the lightfoot gang at orrville. sikkem wrote that note. i could stake my life on it. and--now he's sent for you. he's asking you to go out to spruce crossing--at night. a distant, lonely point in the hills. he says he's mortally wounded. he has found the rustlers hiding. of course he has. he's known all along. nor do i believe he's wounded. he--and the others--think the only way to get back on me is--through you. they mean to kill you. who's the boy who brought in word?"
"a new 'hand' we've taken on to replace the boy who was shot up two days back."
"one of the gang."
the woman spoke with a decision she did not realize. but her belief had become conviction. no shadow of doubt remained.
jeff gazed thoughtfully down at the note. when he raised his eyes his regard had undergone a shadow of change.
there was less coldness in them. he shrugged.
"guess we'll leave that at present. why all this now?"
"because your life's in danger. that's how i figure."
there was a deep note of urgency in the woman's voice. her eyes were alight with a sudden, unmistakable emotion. but even if the man realized these things he ignored them.
"my life?" there was something cruelly biting in the reflection. "and all this time you knew--sikkem. you knew we were being raided."
"i----" elvine broke off.
she had no reply. there could be no reply. why, she wondered in sudden horror, had she not told of this thing before?
she stood with downcast eyes before the accusing glance of the man. then, after a moment's pause, a sound escaped his lips. and in it was every thinkable expression of condemnation and contempt.
"tchah!"
he turned away and strode across to his horse. the woman's voice came to him low, despairing, appealing.
"for god's sake, jeff, don't go! you won't go! they'll kill you! oh, god! jeff! oh!"
the final exclamation came in a sort of moan as the man swung himself into the saddle, and, without a word, turned his horse and rode away.
