CHAPTER XXII
THREATENINGS
The offer of reward for the rustlers operating in Rainbow Hill Valleywas without the desired effect. It was worse. The men against whom itwas directed received it with deliberate but secretly expressedcontempt. Nor did Chance serve the masters of the Obar, as four yearsbefore She had served Dug McFarlane.
Nor was the failure due to lack of effort. Bud left no stone unturned.And Jeff--well, Jeff did all a man could. The hills were scoured, andthe deeps and hidden hollows of the greater foothills. The notices ofreward were sent broadcast, even penetrating to the Orrville country.They were set up as Jeff had promised, on tree trunks in the remoterhills where any chance eye might discover them. Where undoubtedly themen who constituted the gang must sooner or later discover them.
The only response was a continuation of the raids.
But a distinct change had taken place in the method of these. Whereas,originally, they had been directed against not only the Obar Ranch, butwherever opportunity offered in the district, they now fastened theirvampire clutches upon the Obar only, and, finally, on only one sectionof its territory: the land which belonged to Jeff's side of thepartnership.
So marked was this that it could not be missed.
The partners were out at a distant station where they had been urgentlysummoned. A young "hand" had been wounded, a nasty flesh wound in thearm. He had been bringing in a small bunch of steers which had strayedto a distant hollow in the hills. It had been overnight. He was heldup, and shot by three outlaws, and his cattle run off.
It was Bud who voiced the thought of both partners immediately after aclose interrogation of the injured man.
"Looks like some low-bred son-of-a-hobo owes you a reckonin' he'syearnin' to git quit of, Jeff," he said, the moment they were alone."They're workin' this way all the time. They ain't so much as smeltaround the old 'T.T.' territory in days. D'you make it that way?"
Jeff nodded.
"Sure."
But he made no attempt to throw enlightenment.
"Guess you signed the reward."
Bud watched the shadowed serious face of his friend.
"Maybe it's that." There was something like indifference in theyounger man's manner.
Perhaps it was this manner which stirred Bud's impatience and drove himto resentment.
"Say," he cried, in fiercely vibrant tones, "d'you know what it is Igot in my head? It's the 'hands' on our range. Sure. Ther's somelousy guy on the Obar working in with the gang. Cowpunchers are amongrel lot anyway. Ther' ain't one but 'ud souse the sacrament wineef the passon wa'an't lookin' on. I guess we'll need to chase up thepenitentiary re-cord of every blamed thief on our pay-roll. Maybe thecinch we're lookin' fer lies that way."
"It's curious."
"Curious? Gee, it's rotten!"
The old man's patience completely gave way.
"See right here, Jeff. I ain't rattled. Not a thing. But ther's gotto be some guts put into this thing, an' you an' me's got to find 'em.See? I'm sick to death. Right here an' now I tell you ther's goin' tobe a rotten piece of trouble around this lay-out, an' I'm goin' to bein it--right up to my back teeth."
It was perhaps the first time Bud had displayed impatience with the manwho had always been the leading spirit of their enterprise. The truthwas, something seemed to have gone out of Jeff. He neglected nothing.He spared himself no pains. His physical efforts seemed even to havebecome greater as the days passed. Frequently, now, night as well asday found him in the saddle watching over their interests. He hadbecome a sort of restless spirit urging forward the work, and watching,watching with the lynx eyes dreaded so much by the men who served him.But for all that something had certainly gone out of him, and Bud knewand feared its going.
If Bud knew and feared the change, he also knew the cause of it.Neither he nor Nan were blind to the drama silently working out in theother household. It was bitterly plain and almost heart-breaking tothe onlookers. The same roof sheltered husband and wife. But nounnecessary word was spoken between them. Their meals were takenapart. They were as completely and coldly separate as though theyoccupied opposite poles. And the girl who recognized these things, andthe man who watched them, only wondered how long it must be before thefinal disaster came upon them.
Jeff's moods had become extraordinarily variable. There were momentswhen his moroseness became threatening. The canker at his heart wascommunicating itself to his whole outlook, and herein lay the failurein his work.
It was the realization of all this which stirred Bud's impatience. Heknew that unless a radical change was quickly brought about, thevaunted Obar had certainly reached and probably passed its zenith.
Finally, he opened his heart to the sure sympathy of Nan. He hadpurposely taken her with him on a boundary inspection amongst thefoothills. They were riding through a silent hollow where quiet seemedto lie on the top of everything. Even their horses' hoofs failed tomake an impression upon it. Peace was crowding the woodland slopes, apeace profound and unbreakable.
"The Obar's struck a mighty bad patch, Nan," he said abruptly. "Efthings kep hittin' their present gait, why, I don't jest see wher'we're to strike bottom. The pinch ain't yet, but you can't never kickout a prop without shakin' the whole darned buildin' mighty bad. An'that's how the Obar's fixed. Ther's a mighty big punch gone plumb outo' Jeff's fight, an', well, I guess we're needin' all our punch to fixthe things crowdin' around us."
"You mean the rustlers?" Nan drove to the heart things withouthesitation.
"Sure. Them an'--other things."
The girl nodded. She knew the other things without asking.
"Jeff's in a heap of--trouble," she said with a sigh.
"An' looks like carryin' us along with him--ef we ain't watchin'around."
"We've always kind of leaned on Jeff."
"Most folks are ready to lean, Nan. It sort o' saves 'em a deal oftrouble."
"Yes. Till you kick the prop away."
"Sure. Our prop's been kicked away, an' we've jest got to git right upon to our hind legs an'--git busy. The leanin' racket's played out ferus. We got to hand Jeff a prop now, an' see it don't git kicked away.See?"
For some moments the girl's gaze searched straight ahead of her downthe valley. And into her eyes there grew a gentle light of enthusiasm.Suddenly she turned upon the great figure on its horse beside her.
"We've stood up on our own years, Daddy--before Jeff came along. Wecan stand now, can't we? I guess we're not going to fail Jeff now he'sin trouble. Jeff's been all for us. We're going to be all for him.He needs us, Daddy, and--I'm glad in a way. Say, my heart nigh breaksevery time I peek into his poor sad an' troubled face. Jeff's justbeating his soul dead. And if the Obar gets wrong, it'll sure be theend of everything for him. It mustn't, Daddy. Things mustn't gowrong. 'Deed they mustn't. It's up to us. You must show me how,Daddy. You're wise to it all. You're strong. You know. Show me.Put me wise, an' I'll--take Jeff's place."
The girl's words came full of a passionate sincerity. There were nohalf measures in this child of the prairie. Her love was given, awealth of generous feeling and loyal self-sacrifice. Her father readwith a rare understanding. And in his big heart, so rough, so warm, hecursed with every forceful epithet of his vocabulary the folly of theman he had marked out for a son.
"We'll make good, or--bust," he said, with a warmth that almost matchedthe girl's.
Then he pointed ahead where the hollow opened out, and a large clump oftrees marked dividing ways.
"I guessed you'd best see this. It's one o' them notions o' Jeff's.That play ain't worth a cent."
"Ah!"
They rode up to the bluff in silence. And after a moment's search Buddrew rein before a heavy tree trunk, to which was secured a printedsheet. He pointed at it, and, for a while, neither spoke. Nan wastaking in the disfigurements with which it was covered, and she readthe words written across it in bold but illiterate characters:
"We're wise to her. She don't git no second chanst."
The rest of the disfigurings were mischievous, and of almost indecentcharacter.
"Does Jeff know?" Nan's question was almost a whisper.
"I ain't told him."
Bud's reply was one of doubt.
"He--he ought to be told."
Then Bud suddenly abandoned the restraint he had been exercising.
"Oh ----! Ther' ain't no use. He can't do a thing. He wouldn't do athing. I tell you we're jest suckin'-kids in this racket. We got tolie around crazy enough to fancy we're goin' to git the drop on thesebums. What a country! What a cuss of a lay-out wher' you got to setaround watching a darnation gang o' toughs whittlin' away your worktill they got you beat to a mush. Here, I'm goin' to start right in.I'm goin' to get around Calthorpe. The sheriff's got to git busy, an'earn his monthly pay check. We'll hev to raise vigilantes. I tell youthey'll break us else. Ef Jeff can't see, why, he'll hev to be madeto. Blast their louse-bound souls to hell!"
And Nan welcomed the outburst. Rough, coarse, violent. It did notmatter. What mattered to her was the purpose. The purpose which shehoped and prayed would help Jeff. She had no thought for themselves.Their end of the enterprise never came into her considerations. Shewas thinking of Jeff. Solely of Jeff--the man she loved better thanher life.
* * * * * *
The change in Elvine was no less marked than it was in Jeff. But itwas a change in a wholly different direction. She was deeply subdued,even submissive in her attitude. But now after the first crisis andits accompanying pain, a general relief was apparent. A relief whichanything but indicated the hopelessness which had at the firstoverwhelmed her. She was not hopeless. Therein lay the key of thematter.
From the time when she had passed through those moments of frenzieddespair, after Jeff's return from Orrville, her decision had been takenwith lightning celerity. Her back was to the wall, and she meant tofight for all she yearned, desired, by every art she possessed. Sheknew nothing of the reason which had made her husband return to her.It was sufficient that he had done so. It gave her the vague, wildhope she needed, and with all her might she intended to set herself tothe task of winning back her position in his regard.
She was not logical. Had she been, she must have accepted thealternative of freedom offered her, and, on a liberal allowance,betaken herself to some selfish, worldly life which might have appealedto her. No, she was not logical. Had she been, she would never haveloved this man as she now knew better than ever she loved him. She wasnot logical, but she had courage. It was the same courage which haddriven her to fight for that which she had desired years ago. She wasgoing to fight now. And again it was for selfish motives. Only thistime they took the form of the love of the man she| had married.
She set to work from the very start. Her attractions she knew weregreat. Jeff must be made to realize them. He must be made to realizeall a woman could mean in this life which was theirs. She wouldunobtrusively study his interests to the last degree. His position inthe ranching world would give her ample scope in this. Then there wasthe work of the ranch. Here her earlier experiences would help hermaterially.
So she laid for herself a deliberate campaign. Always counting thathis lightest command was her law, and nothing must be permitted todisplay her desire to break down the barrier he had set up between them.
Two days of deep consideration showed her her course. And once havingmarked it out she set about following it.
Her house was her first care. It must be ordered as no other house ofits kind was ordered. She thought of every expressed wish of hisduring their brief engagement and honeymoon, and sorted it into itsplace in scheme.
Then came her place in the work of the range. This was more difficultto take at once by reason of lack of precedent. But by tactfulwatchfulness she felt it could be accomplished. Her first step must beto impress on Lal Hobhouse her intention, and, in this, even soonerthan she had dared to hope, she managed to secure a footing. Once hermind was set to achieve a purpose her capacity was beyond all question,and in these troublous times of rustlers the foreman was more thancontent to welcome her aid.
Throughout these days she rarely obtruded herself upon the man shedesired most in the world. He might almost have been non-existent.The rare moments in which he spoke to her were met with a cool reserveon her part, which left nothing to be desired, and gave no opportunityfor the reopening of those matters which had brought about theposition. Indeed, Elvine had more than reason to be satisfied with herwork.
She felt at last that the worst was over, and now it remained for herto win back, step by step, the lost ground, until she had restoredherself to her position. It could be done. It should be done, shetold herself. She admitted no crime against him. Then where was thejustice of it? Anyway, that fierce dread was off her mind. She knewthe worst now. She no longer stood on the brink of an abyss ofdoubt----
She was in her bedroom considering these things. It was a goldenevening and the setting sun was shining athwart her windows. Quitesuddenly the simple sewing in her fingers dropped upon her lap, and herstartled eyes turned upon the wide view of the valley bathed in theperfect evening light.
Was she no longer standing upon that brink? The question flashedthrough her mind as she remembered an incident until then completelylost in the greater issues. It was the threat of that scrawled notewhich had been flung in at that very window. She even remembered thesensation of the blow which had awakened her on the night of tortureduring which she had waited for Jeff's return from Orrville.
She sprang to her feet. Every other thought was swept from her mind.And, for a moment, fresh panic stirred her veins. The words of thatmessage. They were unforgettable.
"You sold the lives of men for a price. You had your way then. We'regoin' to have our way now. You'll pay for that deal the only way weknow."
The only way we know! Her memory flew to the man Sikkem. Oh, she knewhim. She had recognized him on the instant of their meeting. She knewhe came from Orrville. She had seen him there. But---- Was he one ofthe original Orrville gang, all unsuspected, or, at least, if notunsuspected, _unknown_ to be?
While she pondered the subject she heard her husband's arrival. Sheheard him cross the veranda and, pass into the house.
Then again she took up the thread of her thought. This man Sikkem. Ifhe were one of the Orrville gang, what was more likely than that heshould have sent that threat? If he sent it, what more likely thanthat he was one of the gang of rustlers operating here? If he were oneof them, then what added significance did it give threat?
A wave of sudden excitement replaced the panic of a moment before."The only way we know." Did that mean raiding her husband's stock andendeavoring so to ruin the Obar? It looked like it. It would accountfor what was being done. But no. That might be part of what wascontained in the threat. But not all. The only way we know! The onlyway this class of man understood paying off a score was different fromthat. With these men it was always a life for a life. Whose? Hers?It might be.
The sun had sunk beyond the mountain peaks. In the adjoiningliving-room she heard the clatter of supper things. Jeff was havinghis meal in the solitude which had become their habit.
If it were her life they intended it would not much matter. But wasit? Would they punish her that way? To her it did not suggest therefinement of cruelty which would appeal to them. No, there were othersigns. Their purpose looked to be to ruin the Obar, and then--whatthen? Rob her of the man she loved? It could be done. It would beeasy, and surely the refinement of it would appeal to natures soruthless.
Her sewing had dropped to the floor. Mechanically she picked it up.Then and there she purposed to break in upon her husband's meal. Butshe hesitated, and the impulse passed. Instead, she went to a drawerin her bureau and withdrew the folded paper. She read it over andreturned to her seat. Decision was
lacking. Her interpretation of thethreat had taken strong hold upon her, but she could not decide whatbest to do. Her fine eyes were troubled as she gazed out into thegrowing dusk. Dared she go to him? Would he listen?
But once more her thoughts were diverted. The sound of a great clatterof hoofs reached her from the other side of the house. Some one hadridden up to the veranda at a great pace. Who? And what could theurgency be at such an hour?
She heard Jeff moving in the living-room. She heard him pass out on tothe veranda. Then curiosity, perhaps apprehension, urged her. Shepassed to the window beyond her bureau, which was near the angle of thebuilding, and leaned out of it. Ordinary tones on the veranda wouldreach her there.
She waited, breathing lightly lest her hearing should be impaired. Astrange voice was talking. She could not place it. It was rough, andthe language was rough. No doubt it was one of the "hands" from someoutlying point.
"They got him through the chest, an' I guess he's goin' to pass in. Hesez to me, 'Ride like hell an' fetch the boss. Tell him I got 'emplumb wher' he wants 'em. I located their lay-out. I ain't got abovean hour or so to tell him in. Just hike an' ride like ----!'"
Then came Jeff's voice cold and undisturbed.
"Where is he?"
"Why, by his shack at Spruce Crossing. He jest got in, an' nigh fellplumb in his tracks out o' the saddle. I don't guess any feller butSikkem could ha' done it. He's tough--mighty tough."
Sikkem! Elvine moved from the window. Sikkem! Her heart was poundingin her bosom, and, for a moment, her brain seemed in a whirl. Sikkemhad discovered the raiders and was willing to give them away. In aflash she was back in Orrville, and her mind was searching amongstshadowy memories that had suddenly become acute. Sikkem! Sikkem! No.She must see Jeff. She must tell him of--Sikkem. She must warn him,and show him her note. A sudden, crushing foreboding descended uponher, and she hurried toward the door.
In a few seconds she was on the veranda confronting her husband. For amoment her courage well-nigh failed her. Jeff was standing with hisback turned toward the sunset. The ranchman was no longer there. Hehad gone to the barn to order a fresh saddle horse for the master ofthe Obar. Apparently Jeff had turned to repass into the house.
His fair strong face, serious and cold, was turned directly upon thebeautiful figure of his wife, and it was the coldness of it thatdaunted her now.
"Well?"
The bitterness of that frigid, surprised inquiry was crushing. Elvinelooked into his eyes for one single shadow of softening. She couldfind none. It shocked the hope she had been steadily building in herheart.
She had no words in which to answer. She stood thus for one uncertainmoment. Then she thrust out her hand. It contained the threateningmessage.
"Will you read that--at once?"
His cold regard dropped from her face. The man noted the dirty paperin her soft white hand. Then he took it. Nor did their hands comeinto contact.
"Is it a matter of importance?"
Elvine could have cried out with the stab of the question. Only somematter of vital importance justified her action in his eyes. Her gazewas averted to hide her pain.
"I should not have come to you otherwise."
The man moved to the edge of the veranda to obtain more of the dyinglight. At that moment the ranchman approached with two saddle horses.Elvine scrutinized him carefully. He was a complete stranger to her.
Jeff had read the note. He stood regarding the ranchman. Suddenly hisvoice broke sharply.
"Leave my horse at the tying post. Wait for me at the barn."
He watched the man secure his horse. Then he watched him return to thebarn. Nor did he speak again till he was out of earshot.
At last he turned back to the waiting woman.
"Who sent this? When did you get it? How?" The questions camerapidly.
"It came the night you were at Orrville. It was flung in through theopen window late at night. I'd fallen asleep in my chair--waiting. Ithit me on the face. They'd made it fast around a grass-tuft."
"Who sent it?"
"It must have been the man, Sikkem, who's just sent in word to youhe's--shot up."
"Sikkem? Why?"
Suddenly the restraint Elvine was exercising gave way. Even herhusband's deliberate coldness was powerless to stem the tide ofconviction which had steadily mounted up within her. The one thoughtin her mind was that he stood in danger. Her reason was slight enough,but her love accentuated her intuition. She saw in her mind theclaiming of the toll these men demanded, and to her swift imaginationthe picture of her husband's murder was complete before her eyes.
"Sikkem comes from Orrville. He was there--four years ago. There wasmore than suspicion attached to him. My first day here I met him.Maybe you'll remember. He knew me at once. I don't guess there wasany mistake. And I knew him. When he heard I was--married to you hepretended he'd mistaken me for--some one else. And when he explainedwho, and his feelings against that woman--it was me he wasdescribing--I knew he was, as was suspected, one of the Lightfoot gangat Orrville. Sikkem wrote that note. I could stake my life on it.And--now he's sent for you. He's asking you to go out to SpruceCrossing--at night. A distant, lonely point in the hills. He sayshe's mortally wounded. He has found the rustlers hiding. Of course hehas. He's known all along. Nor do I believe he's wounded. He--andthe others--think the only way to get back on me is--through you. Theymean to kill you. Who's the boy who brought in word?"
"A new 'hand' we've taken on to replace the boy who was shot up twodays back."
"One of the gang."
The woman spoke with a decision she did not realize. But her beliefhad become conviction. No shadow of doubt remained.
Jeff gazed thoughtfully down at the note. When he raised his eyes hisregard had undergone a shadow of change.
There was less coldness in them. He shrugged.
"Guess we'll leave that at present. Why all this now?"
"Because your life's in danger. That's how I figure."
There was a deep note of urgency in the woman's voice. Her eyes werealight with a sudden, unmistakable emotion. But even if the manrealized these things he ignored them.
"My life?" There was something cruelly biting in the reflection. "Andall this time you knew--Sikkem. You knew we were being raided."
"I----" Elvine broke off.
She had no reply. There could be no reply. Why, she wondered insudden horror, had she not told of this thing before?
She stood with downcast eyes before the accusing glance of the man.Then, after a moment's pause, a sound escaped his lips. And in it wasevery thinkable expression of condemnation and contempt.
"Tchah!"
He turned away and strode across to his horse. The woman's voice cameto him low, despairing, appealing.
"For God's sake, Jeff, don't go! You won't go! They'll kill you! Oh,God! Jeff! Oh!"
The final exclamation came in a sort of moan as the man swung himselfinto the saddle, and, without a word, turned his horse and rode away.