CHAPTER XVIII
"I THINK AL WOODRUFF'S GOT HER"
There was no opportunity for further conference. Senator Warfieldshowed no especial interest in Swan, and the Swede was permittedwithout comment to take his dog and strike off up the ridge. Jim andSorry were sent to look after Brit, who was still shouting vain threatsagainst the Sawtooth, and the three men rode away together. Warfielddid not suggest separating, though Lone expected him to do so, sinceone man on a trail was as good as three in a search of this kind.
He was still inclined to doubt the whole story. He did not believethat Lorraine had been to the Sawtooth, or that she had raved aboutanything. She had probably gone off by herself to cry and to worryover her troubles,--hurt, too, perhaps, because Lone had left the ranchthat morning without a word with her first. He believed the story ofher being insane had been carefully planned, and that Warfield hadperhaps ridden over in the hope that they would find her alone; thoughwith Frank dead on the ranch that would be unlikely. But to offsetthat, Lone's reason told him that Warfield had probably not known thatFrank was dead. That had been news to him--or had it? He tried toremember whether Warfield had mentioned it first and could not. Toomany disturbing emotions had held him lately; Lone was beginning tofeel the need of a long, quiet pondering over his problems. He did notfeel sure of anything except the fact that the Quirt was like adrowning man struggling vainly against the whirlpool that is suckinghim slowly under.
One thing he knew, and that was his determination to stay with thesetwo of the Sawtooth until he had some definite information; until hesaw Lorraine or knew that she was safe from them. Like a weightpressing harder and harder until one is crushed beneath it, their talkof Lorraine's insanity forced fear into his soul. They could do justwhat they had talked of doing. He himself had placed that weapon intheir hands when he took her to the Sawtooth delirious and told ofwilder words and actions. Hawkins and his wife would swear away hersanity if they were told to do it, and there were witnesses in plentywho had heard him call her crazy that first morning.
They could do it; they could have her committed to an asylum, or atleast to a sanitorium. He did not underestimate the influence ofSenator Warfield. And what could the Quirt do to prevent the outrage?Frank Johnson was dead; Brit was out of the fight for the time being;Jim and Sorry were the doggedly faithful sort who must have a leaderbefore they can be counted upon to do much.
Swan,--Lone lifted his head and glanced toward the ridge when hethought of Swan. There, indeed, he might hope for help. But Swan wasout here, away from reinforcements. He was trailing Al Woodruff, andwhen he found him,--that might be the end of Swan. If not, Warfieldcould hurry Lorraine away before Swan could act in the matter. Awhimsical thought of Swan's telepathic miracle crossed his mind and wasdismissed as an unseemly bit of foolery in a matter so grave asLorraine's safety. And yet--the doctor had received a message that hewas wanted at the Quirt, and he had arrived before his patient. Therewas no getting around that, however impossible it might be. No onecould have foreseen Brit's accident; no one save the man who hadprepared it for him, and he would be the last person to call for help.
"We followed the girl's horse-tracks almost to Thurman's place and lostthe trail there." Warfield turned in the saddle to look at Lone ridingbehind him. "We made no particular effort to trace her from there,because we were sure she would come on home. I'm going back that far,and we'll pick up the trail, unless we find her at the ranch. She mayhave hidden herself away. You can't," he added, "be sure of anythingwhere a demented person is concerned. They never act according tologic or reason, and it is impossible to make any deductions as totheir probable movements."
Lone nodded, not daring to trust his tongue with speech just then. Ifhe were to protect Lorraine later on, he knew that he must not defendher now.
"Hawkins told me she had some sort of hallucination that she had seen aman killed at Rock City, when she was wandering around in that storm,"Warfield went on in a careless, gossipy tone. "Just what was thatabout, Lone? You're the one who found her and took her in to theranch, I believe. She somehow mixed her delusion up with Fred Thurman,didn't she?"
Lone made a swift decision. He was afraid to appear to hesitate, so helaughed his quiet little chuckle while he scrambled mentally for aplausible lie.
"I don't know as she done that, quite," he drawled humorously. "Shewas out of her head, all right, and talking wild, but I laid it to herbeing sick and scared. She said a man was shot, and that she saw ithappen. And right on top of that she said she didn't think they oughtto stage a murder and a thunderstorm in the same scene, and thoughtthey ought to save the thunder and lightning for the murderer to makehis get-a-way by. She used to work for the moving pictures, and shewas going on about some wild-west picture she thought she was acting apart in.
"Afterwards I told her what she'd been saying, and she seemed to kindaremember it, like a bad dream she'd had. She told me she thought thevillain in one of the plays she acted in had pulled off a stage murderin them rocks. We figured it out together that the first crack ofthunder had sounded like shooting, and that's what started her off.She hadn't ever been in a real thunderstorm before, and she's scared ofthem. I know that one we had the other day like to of scared her intohysterics. I laughed at her and joshed her out of it."
"Didn't she ever say anything about Fred Thurman, then?" Warfieldpersisted.
"Not to me, she didn't. Fred was dragged that night, and if she heardabout a man being killed during that same storm, she might have saidsomething about it. She might have wondered if that was what she saw.I don't know. She's pretty sensible--when she ain't crazy."
Warfield turned his horse, as if by accident, so that he was broughtface to face with Lone. His eyes searched Lone's face pitilessly.
"Lone, you know how ugly a story can grow if it's left alone. Do _you_believe that girl actually saw a man shot? Or do you think she wascrazy?"
Lone met Warfield's eyes fairly. "I think she was plumb out of herhead," he answered. And he added with just the right degree ofhesitation: "I don't think she's what you'd call right crazy, MrWarfield. Lots of folks go outa their heads and talk crazy when theyget a touch of fever, and they get over it again."
"Let's have a fair understanding," Warfield insisted. "Do you think Iam justified in the course I am taking, or don't you?"
"Hunting her up? Sure, I do! If you and Hawkins rode on home, I'dkeep on hunting till I located her. If she's been raving around likeyou say, she's in no shape to be riding these hills alone. She's gotto be taken care of."
Warfield gave him another sharp scrutiny and rode on. "I always preferto deal in the open with everyone," he averred. "It may not be myaffair, strictly speaking. The Quirt and the Sawtooth aren't veryintimate. But the Quirt's having trouble enough to warrant any one inlending a hand; and common humanity demands that I take charge of thegirl until she is herself again."
"I don't know as any one would question that," Lone assented and groundhis teeth afterwards because he must yield even the appearance ofapproval. He knew that Warfield must feel himself in rather adesperate position, else he would never trouble to make his motives soclear to one of his men. Indeed, Warfield had protested hisunselfishness in the matter too much and too often to have deceived thedullest man who owned the slightest suspicion of him. Lone could havesmiled at the sight of Senator Warfield betraying himself so, hadsmiling been possible to him then.
He dropped behind the two at the first rough bit of trail and feltstealthily to test the hanging of his six-shooter, which he might needin a hurry. Those two men would never lay their hands on LorraineHunter while he lived to prevent it. He did not swear it to himself;he had no need.
They rode on to Fred Thurman's ranch, dismounted at Warfield'ssuggestion--which amounted to a command--and began a careful search ofthe premises. If Warfield had felt any doubt of Lone's loyalty heappeared to have dismissed it from his mind, for he sent Lone to thestable to
search there, while he and Hawkins went into the house. Loneguessed that the two felt the need of a private conference after theirvisit to the Quirt, but he could see no way to slip unobserved to thehouse and eavesdrop, so he looked perfunctorily through all the shedsand around the depleted haystacks,--wherever a person could find ahiding place. He was letting himself down through the manhole in thestable loft when Swan's voice, lowered almost to a whisper, startledhim.
"What the hell!" Lone ejaculated under his breath. "I thought you wereon another trail!"
"That trail leads here, Lone. Did you find Raine yet?"
"Not a sign of her. Swan, I don't know what to make of it. I didthink them two were stalling. I thought they either hadn't seen her atall, or had got hold of her and were trying to square themselves on theinsanity dodge. But if they know where she is, they're acting damnqueer, Swan. They _want_ her. They haven't got her yet."
"They're in the house," Swan reassured Lone. "I heard them walking.You don't think they've got her there, Lone?"
"If they have," gritted Lone, "they made the biggest blunder of theirlives bringing me over here. No, I could see they wanted to get offalone and hold a powwow. They expected she'd be at the Quirt."
"I think Al Woodruff, he's maybe got her, then," Swan declared, afterstudying the matter briefly. "All the way he follows the trail overhere, Lone. I could see you sometimes in the trail. He was keepinghid from the trail--I think because Raine was riding along, thismorning, and he's following. The tracks are that old."
"They said they had trailed Raine this far, coming from the Sawtooth,"Lone told him worriedly. "What do you think Al would want----"
"Don't she see him shoot Fred Thurman? By golly, I'm scared for thatgirl, Loney!"
Lone stared at him. "He wouldn't dare!"
"A coward is a brave man when you scare him bad enough," Swan statedflatly. "I'm careful always when I corner a coward."
"Al ain't a coward. You've got him wrong."
"Maybe, but he kills like a coward would kill, and he's scared he willbe caught. Warfield, he's scared, too. You watch him, Lone.
"Now I tell you what I do. Yack, he picks up the trail from here towhere you can follow easy. We know two places where he didn't go withher, and from here is two more trails he could take. But one goes tothe main road, and he don't take that one, I bet you. I think he takesthat girl up Spirit Canyon, maybe. It's woods and wild country in afew miles, and plenty of places to hide, and good chances for gettingout over the top of the divide.
"I'm going to my cabin, and you don't say anything when I leave.Warfield, he don't want the damn Swede hanging around. So you go withthem, Loney. This is to what you call a showdown."
"We'll want the dog," Lone told him, but Swan shook his head. Hawkinsand Warfield had come from the house and were approaching the stable.Swan looked at Lone, and Lone went forward to meet them.
"The Swede followed along on the ridge, and he didn't see anything," hevolunteered, before Warfield could question him. "We might put his dogon the trail and see which way she went from here."
Warfield thought that a good idea. He was so sure that Lorraine mustbe somewhere within a mile or two of the place that he seemed to thinkthe search was practically over when Jack, nosing out the trail of AlWoodruff, went trotting toward Spirit Canyon.
"Took the wrong turn after she left the corrals here," Warfieldcommented relievedly. "She wouldn't get far, up this way."
"There's the track of two horses," Hawkins said abruptly. "That thereis the girl's horse, all right--there's a hind shoe missing. We sawwhere her horse had cast a shoe, coming over Juniper Ridge. Butthere's another horse track."
Lone bit his lip. It was the other horse that Jack had been trailingso long. "There was a loose horse hanging around Thurman's place," hesaid casually. "It's him, tagging along, I reckon."
"Oh," said Hawkins. "That accounts for it."