CHAPTER XVI
BIRDS OF A FEATHER
Purdy did not hit for the subterranean hang-out of the gang. Instead,after entering the bad lands, he continued on up the river for adistance of several miles, being careful to select footing for thehorses among the rock ridges and coulees that would leave no trail--notrail, at least, that any white man could pick up and follow. Two hourslater with five or six miles of trailless bad lands behind him hedismounted and, climbing a rocky eminence, carefully surveyed hissurroundings. An object upon the river caught his attention, and after amoment's scrutiny he made out a man in a skiff. The boat was close inshore and the man was evidently scanning the bank. He was still ahalf-mile above, and clambering hastily down, Purdy led the horses intoa patch of scrub a few hundred yards from the river. Loosening the rope,he allowed the body of the unconscious girl to slip to the ground. Hesecured her feet and hands with a few quick turns of the rope, hobbledthe horses, and hastening to the bank concealed himself in a bunch ofwillows. "If it's the pilgrim," he muttered, "--well, it's my turnnow." He drew the gun from its holster and twirled the cylinder withhis thumb. The boat approached slowly, the man resting on his oarsexcept at such times as it was necessary to force the light craft out ofthe clutch of backwaters and eddies. Not until he was nearly oppositedid Purdy see his face: "Long Bill," he growled, and returning the gun,wriggled from the willows and hailed him. Long Bill shot his boat into apool of still water and surveyed the man on the bank.
"That you, Purdy?" he drawled.
"Yeh, it's me. What's yer hurry?"
Long Bill pondered. He had no wish to run ashore. In the skiff wereupwards of a hundred of the dodgers hastily struck off at the TimberCity printing office, which proclaimed the reward for the Texan and thethousand-dollar reward for information concerning the whereabouts ofAlice Endicott. Long Bill was canny. He knew the river and he hadfigured pretty accurately the probable drift of the ferry boat. Heexpected to come upon it any time. And he wanted that reward forhimself. The hundred dollars offered for the Texan did not interest himat all, but if he could find out what had become of the girl, he could,with no risk to himself, claim the larger reward. Why acquaint Purdywith the fact of the reward? Purdy had a horse and he would ride onahead and scour the bank. Of course, later, if he should fail to findthe boat, or if its occupants had escaped, he would distribute thebills. He wanted to see the Texan caught--he owed him a grudge anyway.
"I got to be goin' on down--got some business below," he answered.
"Huntin' yer ferry?"
Long Bill glared at the questioner. Purdy must have found the flat-boator he would not have known it was missing. And if he had found the boat,he must know something of its occupants. He could not know of thereward, however, and acting on the theory that half a loaf is betterthan none, Long Bill reached for his oars and pulled ashore.
"That's what I'm a-huntin'," he answered, "saw any thin' of her?"
Purdy nodded: "She's layin' up agin' the mouth of a coulee, 'bout twomile or so this side of Red Sand."
Long Bill removed his hat, scratched his head, and stared out over theriver. Finally he spoke: "See her clost up?"
"Yup. Went right down to her."
Another pause, and with a vast show of indifference Long Bill asked:"Anyone in her?"
"No."
"Any tracks around--like anyone had be'n there?"
"Not none except what I made myself. Look a-here, Bill; what you sodamned anxious to find that ferry fer? It would cost you more to haul itback upstream than what it would to build you a new one."
"Sure they wasn't no one there? No one could of got off her an' struckback in?"
"Not onless they could of flew," opined Purdy, "how'd she come to bustloose?"
Long Bill burst into a tirade of profanity that left him breathless."I'll tell you how come she bust loose," he roared, when he hadsufficiently recovered to proceed, "that damned son of a--of a Texianstoled her--him an' the pilgrim's woman!"
"Texan!" cried Purdy, "d'ye mean Tex--Tex Benton?"
"Who the hell d'ye s'pose I mean? Who else 'ud have the guts to stealthe Red Front saloon, an' another man's woman, an' my ferry all the sameday--an' git away with it? Who would?" The infuriated man fairlyscreamed the words, "Me--or you--not by a damn sight! You claim to be ahorse-thief--my Gawd, if that bird ever turned horse-thief, in a year'stime horses would be extincter than what buffaloes is! They wouldn't be_none_ left fer _nobudy--nowheres_!"
It was some moments before Purdy succeeded in calming the man down towhere he could give a fairly lucid account of the happenings in TimberCity. He listened intently to Long Bill's narrative, and at theconclusion the ferryman produced his dodgers: "An' here's the rewards--ahundred fer Tex, an' a thousan' fer information about the woman."
Purdy read the hand-bill through twice. Then for several minutes he wassilent. Finally, he turned to Long Bill. "Looks like me an' you had apurty good thing--if it's worked right," he said with a wink.
"Wha' d'ye mean?" asked the other with sudden interest.
"I mean," answered Purdy, "that I've got the woman."
"Got the woman!" he repeated, "where's Tex?"
Purdy frowned: "That's what I don't know. I hope he's drownded. He neverlanded where she did. They wasn't no tracks. That's the only thingthat's botherin' me. I don't mind sayin' it right out, I ain't got nohonin' to run up agin' him--I don't want none of his meat."
"Course he's drownded, if he never landed," cried Long Bill, and takingtremendous heart from the thought, he continued: "I hain't afraid ofhim, nohow--never was. I hain't so damn glad he drownded neither. If I'dof run onto him, I'd of be'n a hundred dollars richer. I'd of brung himin--me!"
"You'd of played hell!" sneered Purdy, "don't try to put yer brag overon me. I know what you'd do if you so much as seen the colour of hishide--an' so do you. Le's talk sense. If that there pilgrim offered athousan' first off--he'll pay two thousan' to git his woman back--orfive thousan'."
Long Bill's eyes glittered with greed: "Sure he will! Five thousan'--twothousan' five hundred apiece----"
Purdy fixed him with a chilling stare: "They wasn't nothin' mentionedabout no even split," he reminded, "who's got the woman, you or me?"
Long Bill glared angrily: "You didn't know nothin' about the reward tillI come along. An' who's got to do the dickerin'? You don't dast to showup nowheres. You'd git nabbed. They's a reward out fer you."
Purdy shrugged: "When we git the five thousan', you git five hundred.Take it or leave it. They's others can do the dickerin'."
Long Bill growled and whined, but in the end he agreed, and Purdycontinued: "You listen to me. We don't want no mistakes about this here.I'll write a note to the pilgrim an' sign Tex's name to it, demandin'five thousan' fer the return of the woman. You take the note to him, an'tell him Tex is hidin' out in the bad lands, an' they ain't a show inthe world to git the woman without he pays, because Tex will kill hersure as hell if he goes to gittin' any posses out. Then you fetch himover here--this place is good as any--today a week, an' we'll give himhis woman."
"What if he won't come? What if he thinks we're double-crossin' him?"
Purdy shrugged: "If he wants his woman bad enough, he'll come. It's hisonly chanct. An' here's another thing: Before you hit back acrost theriver, you spread them bills around all the ranches an' on all thetrails around here. They ain't no one else can horn in on the bigreward 'cause I've got the woman, an' if the Texan should of got toshore, it's just as well to have everyone huntin' him."
"I ain't got no horse," objected the ferryman.
"Drift down the river till you come to a coulee with two rock pinnacleson the left hand side. Go up it till you come to a brush corral, there'stwo horses in there, an' a saddle an' bridle is cached in a mud crack onthe west side. Saddle up one of 'em, an' be sure you put him back orCass Grimshaw'll make coyote bait out of you."
As Purdy watched Long Bill disappear down the river, he rolled acigarette: "If I c'n double-cross the pilgrim, I w
ill," he muttered, "ifI can't, back she goes to him. Five thousan' is a higher price than I'llpay fer luxeries like women. Anyhow there's McWhorter's gal left ferthat. An' seein' there ain't no one else in on this but me, I'll justduck the hang-out, an' take her over to Cinnabar Joe's. Him an' hiswoman'll keep her safe--or he'll do time. Them's the only kind offriends that's worth a damn--the ones you've got somethin' on." Andhaving thus unburdened himself he proceeded leisurely toward the scrub.
Alice Endicott returned slowly to consciousness. Her first sensation wasone of drowsy well-being. For some minutes she lay while her braingroped in a vague, listless way to find itself. She and Win were goingWest--there was a ranch for sale--and ... she suddenly realized that shewas uncomfortable. Her shoulders and hips ached. Where was she? Shefelt cold. She tried to move and the effort caused her pain. She heard asound nearby and opened her eyes. She closed them and opened them again.She was lying upon the ground among trees and two horses stood a shortdistance away. The horses were saddled. She tried to raise a hand to hereyes and failed. Something was wrong. The recollections of the nightburst upon her with the suddenness of a blow. The river--the lightningand drenching rain, the frantic bailing of the boat, the leap into thewater with the Texan! Where was he now? She tried to sit up--andrealized that her hands and feet were tied! Frantically she struggled tofree her hands. Who had tied her? And why? The buckskin horse sherecognized as the one she had ridden the night before. The Y Bar brandshowed plainly upon his flank. But, where was she? And why was she tied?Over and over the two questions repeated themselves in her brain. Shestruggled into a sitting posture and began to work at the knots. Thetying had been hurriedly accomplished, and with the aid of a projectinglimb stub the knot that secured her wrists was loosened and she freedher hands. It was but the work of a moment to loosen the hitch about herankles and she assayed to rise. She sank back with a moan of pain. Everymuscle in her body ached and she lay still while the blood with anexquisite torture of prickling and tingling, began to circulate hernumbed veins. Again she struggled to her feet and, supporting herselfagainst a tree, stared wildly about her. Nobody was in sight. Throughthe trees she caught the sparkle of water.
"The river!" she breathed. A wild idea flashed into her brain. If shecould find a boat she could elude the horseman who had made her aprisoner. The numbness was gone from her limbs. She took a step andanother, steadying herself by means of the tree-trunks. Finding that shecould walk unaided she crossed an open space, paused and glanced outover the flood with its rushing burden of drift. The thought terrifiedher--of being out there alone in a boat. Then came the thought of herunknown captor. Who was he? When would he return? And with the thoughtthe terror of the water sank into insignificance beside the terror ofthe land. Reaching the edge of the bank she peered cautiously over.There, just at the end of a clump of willows, a boat floated lazily atthe end of its painter. She could see the oars in their locks, and aman's coat upon the back seat. She was about to descend the bank whenthe sound of voices sent her crouching behind a bush. Through thewillows she could make out the forms of two men. Even as she looked oneof the men rose and made his way toward the boat. At the edge of thewillows he turned to speak to the other and the terrified girl gazedinto the face of Long Bill Kearney! The other she could not see, butthat he was her captor she had no doubt. She felt suddenly weak and sickwith horror. Whoever the other was he was a confederate of Long Bill'sand she knew how Long Bill must hate her on account of the treatment hehad received a year ago at the hands of Win and the Texan. In allprobability they had even now murdered the Texan--come upon him weak andexhausted from his struggle with the river and murdered him in coldblood and taken her prisoner.
Stifling a sob, she turned to fly. Her trembling knees would scarcesupport her weight as she crossed the open space. Once in the timber shestaggered toward the horses. Grasping the reins of the buckskin, shetried to lead him into the open, but he followed slowly with a curiousshuffle. Her eyes flew to the hobbles, and kneeling swiftly she pulledat the thick straps that encircled his ankles. Her trembling fingersfumbled at the heavy buckles. Jerking frantically at the strap, shepushed and pulled in an endeavour to release the tongue from the hole.Minutes seemed like hours as she worked. At length she succeeded inloosening a strap and set to work on the other. Fortunately the horsewas thoroughly gentle, "woman broke," as Colston had said, and he stoodmotionless while she tugged and jerked at his ankles. After aninterminable time the other strap yielded and, throwing the hobblesaside, Alice sprang erect, grasped the reins and started for the open,her throbbing brain obsessed by one idea, to ride, ride, ride!Stumbling, tripping in her frantic haste she made her way through thescrub, the buckskin following close upon her heels. Only a few yardsmore and the open country stretched before her, ridge after rocky ridgeas far as the eye could see. Redoubling her effort, she pushed on,tripped upon a fallen tree limb and crashed heavily to her knees. Shestruggled to her feet and as her eyes sought the open, stood rooted tothe spot while the blood froze in her veins. Directly before her, legswide apart, hands on hips, an evil grin on his lips, eyes leering intoher own, stood Jack Purdy!