When Wadley made to Jack Roberts the offer he had spoken of to hisdaughter, the face of that young man lighted up at once. But withouthesitation he refused the chance to manage the A T O ranch.
"Sorry, but I can't work for you, Mr. Wadley."
The big Texan stiffened. "All right," he said huffily. "Just as youplease. I'm not goin' to beg you on my knees to take the best job in thePanhandle. Plenty of good men want it."
The frank smile of the Ranger was disarming. "They don't want it anyworse than I do, Mr. Wadley. I'm not a fool. Just because we had adifference oncet, I'm not standin' on my dignity. Nothin' like that.You're offerin' me a big chance--the biggest I'm ever likely to get.When you pick me to boss the A T O under yore orders, you pay me asure-enough compliment, an' I'd be plumb glad to say yes."
"Well, why don't you?"
"Because the Rangers have got an unfinished job before them here, an'I'm not goin' to leave Captain Ellison in the lurch. I'll stick to mydollar a day till we've made a round-up."
The cattleman clapped him on the shoulder. "That's right, boy. That'sthe way to talk. Make yore clean-up, then come see me. I won't promiseto hold this job open, but I want you to talk with me before you sign upwith any one else."
But the weeks passed, and the Dinsmores still operated in the land. Theyworked under cover, less openly than in the old days, but still astorm-center of trouble. It was well known that they set the law atdefiance, but no man who could prove it would produce evidence.
Meanwhile spring had made way for summer, and summer was beginning toburn into autumn. The little force of Rangers rode the land and watchedfor that false move which some day the Dinsmores would make to bringthem within reach of the law.
On one of its trips in the early fall, the Clarendon stage left townalmost half an hour late. It carried with it a secret, but everybody onboard had heard a whisper of it. There was a gold shipment in the boxconsigned to Tascosa. A smooth-faced Ranger sat beside the driver with arifle across his knees. He had lately been appointed to the force, andthis was one of his first assignments. Perhaps that was why ArthurRidley was a little conscious of his new buckskin suit and theimportance of his job.
The passengers were three. One was a jolly Irish mule-skinner with apicturesque vocabulary and an inimitable brogue. The second wore theblack suit and low-crowned hat of a clergyman, and yellow goggles toprotect his eyes from the sun. He carried a roll of Scriptural chartssuch as are used in Sunday-Schools. The third was an angular andspectacled schoolmarm, for Tascosa was going to celebrate by starting aschool.
Most of those on board were a trifle nervous. The driver was not quiteat his ease; nor was the shotgun messenger. For somehow word had got outa day or two in advance of the gold shipment that it was to be sent onthat date. The passengers, too, had faint doubts about the wisdom ofgoing to Tascosa on that particular trip.
The first twenty miles of the journey were safely covered. The stagedrew near to the place where now is located the famous Goodnight cattaloranch.
From the farther side of a cut in the road came a sharp order to thedriver. Two men had ridden out from the brush and were moving beside thestage. Each of them carried a rifle.
The driver leaned backward on the reins with a loud "Whoa!" It was anarticle of faith with him never to argue with a road-agent.
Ridley swung round to fire. From the opposite side of the road a shotrang out. Two more horsemen had appeared. The reins slid from the handsof the driver, and he himself from the seat. His body struck the wheelon the way to the ground. The bullet intended for the armed guard hadpassed through his head.
In the packed moments that followed, a dozen shots were fired, most ofthem by the outlaws, two by the man on the box. A bullet struck Arthurin the elbow, and the shock of it for a time paralyzed his arm. Therifle clattered against the singletree in its fall. But the shortest ofthe outlaws was sagging in his saddle and clutching at the pommel tosupport himself.
From an unexpected quarter there came a diversion. With one rapidgesture the man in the clergyman's garb had brushed aside his yellowgoggles; with another he had stripped the outer cover of charts from hisroll and revealed a sawed-off shotgun. As he stepped down to the road,he fired from his hip. The whole force of the load of buckshot took thenearest outlaw in the vitals and lifted him from his horse. Before hestruck the ground he was dead.
In the flash of an eye the tide of battle had turned. The surprise ofseeing the clergyman galvanized into action tipped the scale. One momentthe treasure lay unguarded within reach of the outlaws; the next sawtheir leader struck down as by a bolt from heaven.
The lank bandit ripped out a sudden oath of alarm from behind thehandkerchief he wore as a mask and turned his horse in its tracks. Hedug home his spurs and galloped for the brow of the hill. The otherunwounded robber backed away more deliberately, covering the retreat ofhis injured companion. Presently they, too, had passed over the top ofthe hill and disappeared.
The ex-clergyman turned to the treasure-guard. "How bad is it with you,Art?" he asked gently.
That young man grinned down a little wanly at Jack Roberts. He feltsuddenly nauseated and ill. This business of shooting men and being shotat filled him with horror.
"Not so bad. I got it in the arm, Jack. Poor old Hank will never driveagain."
The Ranger who had been camouflaged as a clergyman stooped to examinethe driver. That old-timer's heart had stopped beating. "He's gone onhis last long trip, Art."
"This schoolmarm lady has fainted," announced the mule-skinner.
"She's got every right in the world to faint. In Iowa, where she comesfrom, folks live in peace. Better sprinkle water on her face, Mike."
Jack moved over to the dead outlaw and lifted the bandana mask from theface. "Pete Dinsmore, just like I thought," he told Ridley. "Well, hehad to have it--couldn't learn his lesson any other way."
Roberts drove the stage with its load of dead and wounded back toClarendon. As quickly as possible he gathered a small posse to followthe bandits. Hampered as the outlaws were with a badly wounded man,there was a good chance of running them to earth at last. Before nighthe and his deputies were far out on the plains following a trail thatled toward Palo Duro Canon.