Harlan and Morgan had made a thorough search of Haydon's desk in thelatter's office in the ranchhouse, and they had found letters addressedto Haydon--received at various towns in the vicinity and proving Morgan'scharges against him. And upon several of the letters were names thatprovided damaging evidence of the connection of influential men with thescheme to gain unlawful possession of much land in the basin.
"This cinches it!" declared Morgan as he carefully placed the lettersinto a pocket when he and Harlan emerged from the ranchhouse. "I reckonwe've got proof now. An' the governor'll be plumb tickled."
They stepped down from the doorway and turned the corner of the house.Instantly they noted the disappearance of Haydon's body. But they did notsearch among the other buildings for Haydon--as he had expected them todo. For they saw that his horse was also missing.
Morgan ran for the corral, saying no word, his lips set in grim, vengefullines. He had been a fool for not making sure that he had killed Haydon,but he would not make that mistake again. The gleam in his eyes revealedthat.
Harlan, too, divined what had happened. Purgatory was in thestable--which was farther from the ranchhouse than the corral. And thoughHarlan moved swiftly Morgan was already on his horse and racing towardthe timber when Purgatory emerged from the stable, saddled and bridled.
Harlan noted that Morgan had not stopped to saddle his horse, and thatomission revealed the man's intense desire for haste. Harlan, however,headed Purgatory into the timber, but he was more than half a mile behindMorgan when he reached the main trail.
He saw Morgan riding the trail that led up the valley, and he set outafter him, giving the big black horse the rein. He divined that Morgansuspected Haydon had ridden in that direction; and while Harlan had neverseen the Cache, he had heard the Star men speak of it, and he had noticedthat when setting out for it they had always traveled the trail Morganwas traveling. Therefore, it was evident that Morgan thought Haydon hadgone to the Cache. In that case he depended upon Deveny to assist him--ifMorgan followed; and Harlan was determined to see the incident through.
He sent Purgatory ahead at a good pace, but he noted soon that Morgan wasincreasing the distance between them. He began to urge Purgatory forward,and gradually the distance between the two riders grew shorter.
Both were traveling rapidly, however, and it seemed to Harlan that theyhad not gone more than three or four miles when--watching Morgan closely,he saw him ride pell-mell into some timber that--apparently--fringed thefront of a cave.
It was some time before Harlan reached the timber, and when he did hecould not immediately discover the spot into which Morgan had ridden.When he did discover it he rode Purgatory through, and found himself in anarrow gorge.
He raced Purgatory through the gorge, and out of it to the sloping sideof a little basin.
He saw a house near the center of the basin--and Morgan riding close toit.
The distance to the house was not great--not more than a quarter of amile, it seemed; and Harlan felt some wonder that Morgan--who had beenquite a little in advance of him--had not reached the house sooner. Thatmystery was explained to him almost instantly, though, when he saw thatMorgan's horse was walking, going forward with a pronounced limp.Evidently Morgan had met with an accident.
Harlan was riding across the floor of the little basin, watching Morganand wondering at the seeming absence of Deveny's men, when he saw a smokestreak issue from one of the windows of the house, saw Morgan reel in thesaddle, and slide to the ground.
But before Harlan could reach the spot where Morgan had fallen, the manstaggered to his feet and was running toward the house, swaying as hewent.
Harlan heard a muffled report as he sent Purgatory scampering afterMorgan. He saw Morgan reel again, and he knew someone in the house wasusing a rifle.
There was another report as Morgan lurched through an open doorway of thehouse. Then Harlan knew Morgan was using his gun, for its roaring crashmingled with the whiplike crack of a rifle.
The firing had ceased when Harlan slipped off Purgatory at the open door;and both his guns were out as he leaped over the threshold.
He halted, though, standing rigid, his guns slowly swagging in his hands,their muzzles drooping.
For on the floor of the room--flat on his back near a corner--was Haydon.He was dead--there was no doubt of that.
Nor was there any doubt that the bullets Haydon had sent had finishedMorgan. He was lying on his right side, his right arm under him,extended; the palm of the hand upward, the fingers limply holding thepistol he had used, some smoke curling lazily from the muzzle.
Harlan knelt beside Morgan, examining him for signs of life. He got up alittle later and stood for some time looking down at the man, thinking ofBarbara. Twice had tragedy cast its sinister shadow over her.