XXIV
A SIGNAL-FIRE?
Lee left Hampton securely bound and under Tommy Burkitt's watchful eyesin the old cabin, and rode straight back to the ranch-house. Marciawas not yet in bed and he made his first call upon her. Marcia wasdelighted, then vaguely perturbed, as he made known his errand withoutgiving any reason. He wanted to see the note from Judith. Marciabrought it, wondering. He carried it with him to Judith's office andcompared it carefully with scraps of her handwriting which he foundthere. The result of his study was what he had expected: the writingof the note to Marcia was sufficiently like Judith's to pass muster toan uncritical eye, looking, in fact, what it purported to be, a veryhasty scrawl. But Lee decided that Judith had not written it. Heslipped it into his pocket.
Tripp was waiting for him, impatient and worried, when he came backfrom the Upper End. From Tripp he learned that one of the men, afellow the boys called Yellow-jacket, had unexpectedly asked for histime Saturday afternoon and had left the ranch, saying that he was sick.
"He's the chap who brought the fake note from you," said Lee. "It'sopen and shut, Doc. Another one of Trevors's men that we ought to havefired long ago. The one thing I can't get, is why he didn't do afinished job of it and hang around until Miss Sanford left, then getaway with the note. It would have left no evidence behind him."
"She must have locked her door and windows when she went out," wasTripp's solution. "And probably he didn't hang around wasting time andtaking chances."
Tripp's boyish face had lost its youthful look. His eyes, meetingLee's steadily, had in them an expression like Lee's.
"If it's Quinnion--" Tripp began. Then he stopped abruptly.
Lee and Tripp were together in the office not above fifteen minutes.Then Tripp left to return to the Lower End, to get the rest of the menout, to help in the big drive of cattle and horses which must bereturned to the shut-in valleys of the Upper End. Lee went to thebunk-house, slipped revolver and cartridges into his pockets, took arifle and rode again to the old cabin.
"It's Trevors's big, last play," he told himself gravely, over andover. "He'll be backing it up strong, playing his hand for all thatthere's in it, and he'll have taken time and care to fill in his handso that we're bucking a royal flush. And there's only one way to beata royal flush, and that's with a gun. But I can't quite see the wholeplay, Trevors; I can't quite see it."
There were enough men to do the night's work without him and TommyBurkitt, and Lee gave no thought now to Carson, swearing in thedarkness of some shadow-filled gorge. He did not know what themorrow's work would be for him, but he made his preparations none theless, eager for the coming dawn. He fried many slices of bacon whileHampton glared at him and Tommy watched him interestedly; he made alight, compact lunch, such as best "sticks to a man's ribs," wrapped itin heavy paper and slipped the package into the bosom of his shirt. Hecompleted his equipment with a fresh bag of tobacco and many matches.He loaded his rifle, added a plentiful supply of ammunition to hisoutfit from the box on the shelf. Then he went outside to be alone, tofrown at the black wall of the night, to think, to await the dawn.
"I'm coming to you, Judith girl," he whispered over and over tohimself. "Somehow."
Dawn trembled over the mountain-tops, grew pale rose and warm pink andglorious red in the eastern sky, and Bud Lee, throwing down his coiledrope which had been put into service a dozen times during the night,said shortly:
"Here we camp, boys. I'll leave you my fried bacon, Tommy, and takethe raw with me. You're not even to light a fire. And you're to stickhere until I come for you."
They had travelled deeper and deeper into the fastnesses of themountains, mounting higher and higher until now, in a nest of crags andcliffs, on a flank of Devil's Mountain, they could look far to thewestward and catch brief glimpses of the river from Blue Lake slippingout of the shadows. They had gone a way which Lee knew intimately,travelling a trail which brought them again and again under brokencliffs, where they must use hands and feet manfully, and now and thenmake service of a loop of rope cast up over an outjutting crag.
"They'll never follow us here, Tommy," he said confidently. "If theydo, you've got the drop on them and you've got a rifle. You know whatto do, Tommy, old man."
"I know, Bud," said Tommy, his eyes shining. For never before had BudLee called him that--"old man."
Long ago the gag had been removed from Hampton's mouth. Long ago,consequently, Hampton had said his say, had made his promises. When hegot out of this--glory to be! wouldn't he square the deal, though! DidLee know what kidnapping was? That there were such things as laws,such places as prisons?
"Here," said Lee not unkindly, "I'll loosen the rope about your wrists.That's all the chances we're going to take with you. Come, be a sport,my boy. You're the right sort inside; just as soon as this fracas isover, when you know that we were right and that all this is a put-upjob on you, your friend Trevors playing you for a sucker and gettingMiss Sanford out of the way, you'll say we were right and I know it."
"That so?" snapped Hampton. "You just start now and keep going, BudLee, if you don't want to do time in the jug."
Tommy Burkitt, staring back across the broken miles of mountain, canon,and forest, his eyes frowning, was muttering:
"Look at that, Bud. What do you make of it?"
For a little Lee did not answer. He and Tommy and Hampton, standingamong the rocks, turned their eyes together toward the hills rimming inthe northern side of Blue Lake ranch.
"I make out," said Lee slowly, "that Trevors means business and thatCarson has got his work cut out for him this morning, Tommy."
For the thing which had caught the boy's eyes was a blaze on the ridge,its flames leaping and ricking at the thinning darkness, its smoke ablack smudge on the horizon, staining the glow of the dawn. Andfarther along the same ridge was a second blaze, smaller with distance,but growing as it licked at the dry brush. Still farther a third.
"If that fire ever gets a good start," muttered Lee heavily, "it'sgoing to sweep the ranch. God knows where it will stop. And just howCarson is going to fight fire with one hand and hold his stock with theother, I don't know."
But even then he turned his eyes away from the ranch, sweeping theragged jumble of mountains about him. Judith was gone. Judith neededhim and he did not dare try to estimate the soreness of her need. Whatdid it matter that Carson and Tripp and the rest had their problems toface back there? There was only one thing all of the wide world thatmattered. And did not even know where she was, north, south, east, orwest! Somewhere in these mountains, no doubt. But where, when a manmight ride a hundred miles this way or that and have no sign if hepassed within calling distance of her?
In his heart Bud Lee prayed, as he had prayed last night, asking Godthat he might come to Judith. And it seemed to him, standing close toGod on the rocky heights, that his prayer had been heard and answered.For, far off to the east, still farther in the solitude of themountains, rising from a rugged peak, a thin line of smoke rose intothe paling sky.
It might be that Judith was there. It might be that she was scores ofmiles from the beckoning smoke. But Lee had asked a sign and there,like a slender finger pointing to the brightening sky, was a sign.
He stooped swiftly for rifle and rope and packet of bacon.
"Where you goin', Bud?" asked Tommy.
"To Judith," answered Bud Lee gently.
For in his heart was that faith which is born of love.