CHAPTER XXVIII
NYLAND MEETS A "KILLER"
Ben Nyland had gone to Lazette to attend to some business that haddemanded his attention. He had delayed going until he could delay nolonger.
"I hate like blazes to go away an' leave you alone, here--to face thatbeast, Dale, if he comes sneakin' around. But I reckon I've just gotto go--I can't put it off any longer. If you'd only go an' stay atBransford's while I'm gone I'd feel a heap easier in my mind."
"I'm not a bit afraid," Peggy declared. "That last experience ofDale's with Sanderson has done him good, and he won't bother me again."
That had been the conversation between Ben and Peggy as Ben got readyto leave. And he had gone away, half convinced that Peggy was right,and that Dale would not molest her.
But he had made himself as inconspicuous as possible while in Okar,waiting for the train, and he was certain that none of Dale's men hadseen him.
Nyland had concluded his business as quickly as possible, but the besthe could do was to take the return train that he had told Peggy hewould take. That train brought him back to Okar late in the afternoonof the next day.
Ben Nyland had been born and raised in the West, and he was of the typethat had made the West the great supply store of the country. Rugged,honest, industrious, Ben Nyland had no ambitions beyond those of takingcare of his sister--which responsibility had been his since the deathof his parents years before.
It had not been a responsibility, really, for Nyland worshiped hissister, and it had been his eagerness to champion her that had made anenemy of Alva Dale.
He hated Dale, but not more than he hated Maison and Silverthorn forthe part they were playing--and had played--in trying to rob him of hisland.
Nyland was a plodder, but there ran in his veins the fighting blood ofancestors who had conquered the hardships and dangers of a great,rugged country, and there had been times when he thought of Dale andthe others that his blood had leaped like fire through his veins.
Twice Peggy had prevented him from killing Alva Dale.
Nyland was afflicted with a premonition of evil when he got off thetrain at Okar. To the insistence of the owner of the livery stable,where he had left his horse, Nyland replied:
"I ain't got no time to do any drinkin'; I've got to get home."
The premonition of evil still oppressed him as he rode his horsehomeward. He rode fast, his face set and worried.
When he reached the clearing through which Dale had come on the nighthe had visited the Nyland cabin, he looked furtively around, for thedire foreboding that had gripped him for hours had grown suddenlystronger.
He halted his horse and sat motionless in the saddle, intentlyexamining every object within view.
It was to the horse corral that he finally turned when he could seenothing strange in the objects around him. He had looked at the house,and there seemed to be nothing wrong here, for he could see Peggy'swash on the line that ran from a porch column to a corner of the stable.
The actions of the three horses in the corral was what attracted hisattention. They were crowding the rail at the point nearest him,neighing shrilly, though with a curious clacking in their throats thathe instantly detected.
"They're wantin' water," he said aloud. He rode to the water troughand saw that it was dry, with a deposit in the bottom which did notcontain a drop of moisture.
"There ain't been no water put in there since I left," he decided;"them horses is chokin' with thirst."
A pulse of anxiety ran over him. There was no doubt in his mind nowthat his presentiment of evil was not without foundation, and hewheeled his horse and sent it toward the house.
"Peggy would give them water if she was able to be on her feet," hedeclared, "she's that kind."
But halfway to the house another thought assailed him. It drew hisbrows together in a scowl, it stiffened his lips until they were instraight, hard lines.
"Mebbe Dale's been here! Mebbe he's still here!"
He abruptly halted his horse and gazed around him. As though heexpected to find something there he looked toward a little timber groveto the right of the house, far back toward the rimming hills. At theedge of the grove he saw a horse, saddled and bridled.
A quick change came over Nyland. The blood left his face, and his eyestook on an expression of cold cunning.
Dismounting, he hitched his horse to one of the rails of the corralfence. With his back turned to the house, his head cocked to one side,as though he were intent on the knot he was tying in the reins, hefurtively watched the house.
He took a long time to tie the reins to the rail, but the time was wellspent, for, before he finished, he saw a man's face at one of thekitchen windows.
It was not Dale. He was convinced of that, even though he got only aflashing glance at the face.
Danger threatened Peggy, or she had succumbed to it. There was noother explanation of the presence of a strange man in the kitchen. Forif Peggy was able to walk, she would have watered the horses, she wouldhave met him at the door, as she had always done.
And if the man were there for any good purpose he would have made hispresence known to Nyland, and would not have hidden himself in thekitchen, to peer at Nyland through one of the windows.
Nyland was convinced that Peggy had been foully dealt with. But hasteand recklessness would avail Nyland little. The great mingled rage andanxiety that had seized him demanded instant action, but he fought itdown; and when he turned toward the house and began to walk toward thekitchen door, his manner--outwardly--was that of a man who has seennothing to arouse his suspicions.
Yet despite the appearance of calm he was alert, and every muscle andsinew of his body was tensed for instant action. And so, when he hadapproached to within a dozen feet of the kitchen door, and a man'sfigure darkened the opening, he dove sidewise, drawing his gun as hewent down and snapping a shot at the figure he had seen.
So rapid were his movements, and so well timed was his fall, that hewas halfway to the ground when the flash came from the doorway. Andthe crash of his own gun followed the other so closely that the twoseemed almost instantaneous.
Nyland did not conclude his acrobatic performance with the dive.Landing on the ground he rolled over and over, scrambling toward thewall of the cabin--reaching it on all fours and crouching there, gun inhand--waiting.
He had heard no sound from the man, nor did the latter appear. Thesilence within the cabin was as deep as it had been just an instantbefore the exchange of shots.
There was a window in the rear wall of the cabin--a kitchen window.There was another on the opposite side--the dining-room. There was afront door and two windows on the side Nyland was on.
Two courses were open for Nyland. He could gain entrance to the housethrough one of the windows or the front door, thereby running the riskof making a target of himself, or he could stay on the outside and waitfor the man to come out--which he would have to do some time.
Nyland decided to remain where he was. For a long time he crouchedagainst the wall and nothing happened. Then, growing impatient, hemoved stealthily around the rear corner, stole to the rear window, andpeered inside.
It took him long to prepare for the look--he accomplished the action inan instant--a flashing glance. A gun roared close to his head, theflash blinding him; the glass tinkling on the ground at his feet.
But Nyland had not been hit, and he grinned felinely as he dropped tothe ground, slipped under the window, and ran around the house.Ducking under the side window he ran around to the front. From thefront window he could look through the house, and he saw the man, gunin hand, watching the side door.
Nyland took aim through the window, but just as he was about to pullthe trigger of the weapon the man moved stealthily toward the door--outof Nyland's vision.
Evidently the man considered the many windows to be a menace to hissafety, and had determined to go outside, where he would have an equalchance with his intended victim.
&nbs
p; Grinning coldly, Nyland moved to the corner of the house nearest thekitchen door. The man stepped out of the door, and at the instantNyland saw him he was looking toward the rear of the house.
Nyland laughed--aloud, derisively. He did not want to shoot the man inthe back.
At Nyland's laugh the man wheeled, snapping a shot from his hip. Hewas an instant too late, though, for with the man's wheeling movementNyland's gun barked death to him.
He staggered, the gun falling from his loosening fingers, his handsdropped to his sides, and he sagged forward inertly, plunging into thedust in front of the kitchen door.
Nyland ran forward, peered into the man's face, saw that no moreshooting on his part would be required, and then ran into the house tosearch for Peggy.
She was not in the house--a glance into each room told Nyland that. Hewent outside again, his face grim, and knelt beside the man.
The latter's wound was fatal--Nyland saw that plainly, for the bullethad entered his breast just above the heart.
Nyland got some water, for an hour he worked over the man, not to savehis life, but to restore him to consciousness only long enough toquestion him.
And at last his efforts were rewarded: the man opened his eyes, andthey were swimming with the calm light of reason. He smiled faintly atNyland.
"Got me," he said. "Well, I don't care a whole lot. There's just onething that's been botherin' me since you come. Did you think somethin'was wrong in the house when you was tyin' your cayuse over there at thecorral fence?"
At Nyland's nod he continued:
"I knowed it. It was the water, wasn't it--in the trough? I'm sure adamned fool for not thinkin' of that! So that was it? Well, you'vegot an eye in your head--I'll tell you that. I'm goin' to cash in, eh?"
Nyland nodded and the man sighed. He closed his eyes for an instant,but opened them slightly at Nyland's question:
"What did you do to Peggy? Where is she?"
The man was sinking fast, and it seemed that he hardly comprehendedNyland's question. The latter repeated it, and the man replied weakly:
"She's over in Okar--at Maison's--in his rooms. She----"
He closed his eyes and his lips, opening the latter again almostinstantly to cough a crimson stream.
Nyland got up, his face chalk white. Standing beside the man heremoved the two spent cartridges from the cylinder of his pistol andreplaced them with two loaded ones. Then he ran to his horse, tore thereins from the rail of the corral fence, mounted with the horse in adead run, and raced toward Okar.