CHAPTER IX
PATTY TAKES PRECAUTIONS
During the next few days Patty Sinclair paid scant attention to rockledges. Each morning she saddled her cayuse and rode into the hills tothe southward, crossing divides and following creeks and valleys fromtheir sources down their winding, twisting lengths. After the firsttwo or three trips she left her gun at home. It was heavy andcumbersome, and she realized, in her unskilled hand, useless. Alwaysshe felt that she was being followed, but, try as she would, nevercould catch so much as a fleeting glimpse of the rider who lurked onher trail. Nevertheless, during these long rides which she made forthe sole purpose of familiarizing herself with all the short cutsthrough the hills, she derived satisfaction from the fact that, whilethe trips were of immense value to her, Vil Holland was having histrouble for his pains.
Ascertaining at length that, after crossing the high divide at thehead of Monte's Creek, any valley leading southward would prove adirect outlet onto the bench and thereby furnish a short cut to town,she returned once more to her prospecting--to the exploration oflittle valleys, and the examination of innumerable rock ledges.
Accepting as part of the game the fact that her cabin was searchedalmost daily during her absence she derived grim enjoyment incontemplation of the searcher's repeated disappointment. Severalattempts to surprise the marauder at his work proved futile, and shewas forced to admit that in the matter of shrewdness and persistence,his ability exceeded her own. "The real test will come when I locatethe mine," she told herself one evening, as she sat alone in herlittle cabin. "Then the prize will go to the fastest horse." She drewa small folding check-book from her pocket and frowningly regarded itslatest stub. "A thousand dollars isn't very much, and--it's halfgone."
Next day she rode out of the hills and, following the trail for town,dismounted at Thompson's ranch which nestled in its coulee well outupon the bench, and waited for the rancher, who drove up beside a hugestack with a load of alfalfa, to unhitch his team.
"Have you a good saddle horse for sale?" she asked, abruptly.
Thompson released the tug chains, and hung the bridles upon the hames,whereupon the horses of their own accord started toward the stable,followed by a ranch hand who slid from the top of the stack. Withoutanswering, he called to the man: "Take the lady's horse along an' givehim a feed."
"It's noon," he explained, turning to the girl. "You'll stay ferdinner." He pointed toward the house. "You'll find Miz T. in thekitchen. If you want to wash up, she'll show you."
The ranch hand was leading her horse toward the barn. "But," objectedPatty, "I didn't mean to run in like this just at meal time. Mrs.Thompson won't be expecting a guest, and I brought a lunch with me."
Thompson laughed: "You must be a pilgrim in these parts," he said."Most folks would ride half a day to git here 'round feedin' time. Wealways count on two or three extry, so I guess they'll be a-plenty."The man's laugh was infectious, and Patty found herself smiling. Sheliked him from the first. There was a ponderous heartiness about him,and she liked the way his little brown eyes sparkled from out theirnetwork of sun-browned wrinkles. "You trot along in, now, an' tell MizT. she can begin dishin' up whenever she likes. We'll be 'longd'rectly. They'll be plenty time to talk horse after we've et. My workteams earns a good hour of noonin', an' I don't begrudge 'em an houran' a half, hot days."
Patty found Mrs. Thompson slight and quiet as her husband was big andhearty. But her smile was as engaging as his, and an indefinablesomething about her made the girl feel at home the moment she crossedthe threshold. "I came to see Mr. Thompson about a horse, and heinsisted that I stay to dinner," she apologized.
"Why, of course you'll stay to dinner. But you must be hot an' tired.The wash dish is there beside the door. You better use it beforeThompson an' the hands comes, they always slosh everything allup--they don't wash, they waller."
"Mr. Thompson said to tell you you could begin to dish up wheneveryou're ready."
The woman smiled. "Yes, an' have everythin' set an' git cold, whilethey feed the horses an' then like's not, stand 'round a spell an'size up the hay stack, er mebbe mend a piece of harness or somethin'.I guess you ain't married, er you wouldn't expect a man to meals 'tilyou see him comin'. Seems like no matter how hungry they be, if they'ssome little odd job they can find to do just when you get the grub seton, they pick that time to do it. 'Specially if it's somethin' thatdon't 'mount to anythin', an' like's not's b'en layin' 'round in plainsight a week."
Patty laughingly admitted she was not married. "But, I'd teach 'em alesson," she said. "I'd put the things on and let them get cold."
The older woman smiled, and at the sound of voices, peered out thedoor: "Here they come now," she said, and proceeded to carry heapingvegetable dishes and a steaming platter of savory boiled meat from thestove to the table. There was a prodigious splashing outside the doorand a moment later Thompson appeared, followed by his two ranch hands,hair wet and shining, plastered tightly to their scalps, and facesaglow from vigorous scrubbing. "You mind Mr. Sinclair, that used toprospect in the hills," introduced Mrs. Thompson; "this is hisdaughter."
Her husband bowed awkwardly: "Glad to know you. We know'd yerpaw--used to stop now an' again on his way to town. He was a smartman. Liked to talk to him. He'd be'n all over." The man turned hisattention to his plate and the meal proceeded in solemn silence to itsconclusion. The two ranch hands arose and disappeared through thedoor, and tilting back in his chair Thompson produced a match from hispocket, and proceeded to whittle it into a toothpick. "I heard in townhow you was out in the hills," he began. "They said yer paw went backEast--" he paused as if uncertain how to proceed.
Patty nodded: "Yes, he went back home, and this spring he died. Hetold me he had made a strike and I came out here to locate it."
The kindly brown eyes regarded her intently: "Ever do anyprospectin'?"
"No. This is my first experience."
"I never, either. But, if I was you I'd kind of have an eye on myneighbors."
"You mean--the Wattses?" asked the girl in surprise.
The brown eyes were twinkling again: "No, Watts, he's all right! Onlytrouble with Watts is he sets an' herds the sun all day. But, they'sothers besides Watts in the hills."
"Yes," answered the girl, quickly, "I know. And that is the reason Icame to see you about a horse."
"What's the matter with the one you got?"
"Nothing at all. He seems to be a good horse. He's fast too, when Iwant to crowd him. But, I need another just as good and as fast as heis. Have you one you will sell?"
"I'll sell anything I got, if the price is right," smiled the man.
Patty regarded him thoughtfully: "I haven't very much money," shesaid. "How much is he worth?"
Thompson considered: "A horse ain't like a cow-brute. There ain't noregular market price. Horses is worth just as much as you can getfolks to pay fer 'em. But it looks like one horse ort to be enough toprospect 'round the hills on."
"It isn't that," explained the girl. "If I buy him I shall try toarrange with you to leave him right here where I can get him at amoment's notice. I shall probably never need him but once, but when Ido, I shall need him badly." She paused, but without comment the manwaited for her to proceed: "I believe I am being followed, and if Iam, when I locate the claim, I am going to have to race for theregister's office."
Thompson leaned forward upon the table and chewed his toothpickrapidly: "By Gosh, an' you want to have a fresh horse here for achange!" he exclaimed, his eyes beaming approval.
"Exactly. Have you got the horse?"
The man nodded: "You bet I've got the horse! I've got a horse outthere in the corral that'll run rings around anythin' in this countryunless it's that there buckskin of Vil Holland's--an' I guess youain't goin' to have no call to race him."
Patty was on the point of exclaiming that the buckskin was the veryhorse she would have to race, but instead she smiled: "But, if yourhorse started fresh from here, and even Vil Holland's horse had runclear from
the mountains, this one could beat him to town, couldn'the?"
"Could do it on three legs," laughed the man.
"How much do you ask for him?" The girl waited breathless, thinking ofher diminishing bank account.
Thompson's brow wrinkled: "I hold Lightnin' pretty high," he said,after a pause. "You see, some of us ranchers is holdin' a fast horsehandy, a-waitin' fer word from the hills--an' when it comes, they'sgoin' to be the biggest horse-thief round-up the hill country everseen. An' unless I miss my guess they'll be some that's carried theirnose pretty high that's goin' to snap down on the end of a tight one."
"Now, Thompson, what's the use of talkin' like that? Them things isbad enough to have to do, let alone set around an' talk about 'em.Anyone'd think you took pleasure in hangin' folks."
"I would--some folks."
The little woman turned to Patty: "He's just a-talkin'. Chances is, ifit come to hangin', Thompson would be the one to try an' talk 'em outof it. Why, he won't even brand his own colts an' calves--makes thehands do it."
"That's different," defended the man. "They're little an' young an'they ain't never done nothin' ornery."
"But you haven't told me how much you want for your horse," persistedthe girl.
"Now just you listen to me a minute. I don't want to sell that horse,an' there ain't no mortal use of you buyin' him. He's alwayshere--right in the corral when he ain't in the stable, an' eitherplace, all you got to do is throw yer kak on him an' fog it."
The girl stared at him in surprise: "You mean----"
"I mean that you're plumb welcome to use Lightnin' whenever you needhim. An' if they's anything else I can do to help you beat out anyornery cuss that'd try an' hornswaggle you out of yer claim, you cancount on me doin' it! An' whether you know it 'er not, I ain't theonly one you can count on in a pinch neither." The man waved herthanks aside with a sweep of a big hand, and rose from the table. "MizT. an' me'd like fer you to stop in whenever you feel like----"
"Yes, indeed, we would," seconded the little woman. "Couldn't you comeover an' bring yer sewin' some day?"
Patty laughed: "I'm afraid I haven't much sewing to bring, but I'llcome and spend the day with you some time. I'd love to."
The girl rode homeward with a lighter heart than she had known in sometime. "Now let him follow me all he wants to," she muttered. "But Iwonder why Mr. Thompson said I wouldn't have to race the buckskin. Andwho did he mean I could count on in a pinch--Watts, I guess, or maybehe meant Mr. Bethune."
As she saddled her horse next morning, Bethune presented himself atthe cabin. "Where away?" he smiled as he rode close, and swunglightly to the ground.
"Into the hills," she answered, "in search of my father's lost mine."
The man's expression became suddenly grave: "Do you know, MissSinclair, I hate to think of your riding these hills alone."
Patty glanced at him in surprise: "Why?"
"There are several reasons. For instance, one never knows what willhappen--a misstep on a dangerous trail--a broken cinch--any one of ahundred things may happen in the wilds that mean death or seriousinjury, even to the initiated. And the danger is tenfold in the caseof a tender-foot."
The girl laughed: "Thank you. But, if anything is going to happen,it's going to happen. At least, I am in no danger from being run downby a street car or an automobile. And I can't be blown up by a gasexplosion, or fall into a coal hole."
"But there are other dangers," persisted the man. "A woman, alone inthe hills--especially you."
"Why 'especially me'? Plenty of women have lived alone before inplaces more dangerous than this, and have gotten along very well,too. You men are conceited. You think there can be no possible safetyunless members of your own sex are at the helm of every undertaking orenterprise. But you are wrong."
Bethune shook his head: "But I have reason to believe that there is atleast one person in these hills who believes you possess the secret ofyour father's strike--and who would stop at nothing to obtain thatsecret."
"I suppose you mean Vil Holland. I agree that he does seem to takemore than a passing interest in my comings and goings. But he doesn'tseem very fierce. Anyhow, I am not in the least afraid of him."
"What do you mean that he seems to take an interest in your comingsand goings?" The question seemed a bit eager. "Surely he has not beenfollowing you!"
"Hasn't he? Then possibly you can tell me who has?"
"The scoundrel! And when you discover the lode he'll wait 'til youhave set your stakes and posted your notice, and have gotten out ofsight, and then he'll drive in his own stakes, stick up his own noticebeside them and beat you to the register."
Patty laughed: "Race me, you mean. He won't beat me. Remember, I shallhave at least a half-hour's start."
"A half-hour!" exclaimed Bethune. "And what is a half-hour in afifty-mile race against that buckskin. Why, my dear girl, with all duerespect for that horse of yours, Vil Holland's horse could give youtwo hours' start and beat you to the railroad."
"Maybe," smiled the girl. "But he's going to have to do it--that is,if I ever locate the lode."
"Ah, that is the point, exactly. It is that that brings me here. Notthat alone," he hastened to add. "For I would ride far any day tospend a few moments with so charming a lady--and indeed, I should nothave delayed my visit this long but for some urgent business to thenorthward. At all events, I'm here, and here I shall stay until,together, we have solved our mystery of the hills."
The girl glanced into the face alight with boyish enthusiasm, and feltirresistibly impelled to take this man into her confidence--to enlisthis help in the working out of her unintelligible map, and to admithim to full partnership in her undertaking. There would be enough forboth if they succeeded in uncovering the lode. Her father hadintended that he should share in his mine. She recalled his eulogy ofher father, and his frank admission that there had been no agreementof partnership. If anyone ever had the appearance of perfect sincerityand candor this man had. She remembered her seriously depleted bankaccount. Bethune had money, and in case the search should provelong--Suddenly the words of Vil Holland flashed into her brain withstartling abruptness: "Remember yer dad knew enough to play a lonehand." And again. "Did yer dad tell you about this partnership?" Andthe significant emphasis he placed upon the "Oh," when she hadanswered in the negative.
Bethune evidently had taken her silence for assent. He was speakingagain: "The first thing to do is to find the starting point on the mapand work it out step by step, then when we locate the lode, you andClen and I will file the first three claims, and we'll file all theWattses on the adjoining claims. That will give us absolute control ofa big block of what is probably a most valuable property."
Again Bethune had referred directly to the map which she had neveradmitted she possessed. He had not said, "If you have a map." Theman's assumption angered her: "You still persist in assuming that Ihave a map," she answered. "As a matter of fact, I'm dependingentirely upon a photograph. I am riding blindly through the hillstrying to find the spot that tallies with the picture."
Bethune frowned and shook his head doubtfully: "You might ride thehills for years, and pass the spot a dozen times and never recognizeit. If you do not happen to strike the exact view-point you mighteasily fail to recognize it. Then, too, the landscape changes with theseasons of the year. However," his face brightened and the smilereturned to his lips; "we have at least something to go on. We are notabsolutely in the dark. Who knows? If the goddess of luck sits uponour shoulders, I myself may know the place well--may recognize itinstantly! For years I have ridden these hills and I flatter myselfthat no one knows their hidden nooks and byways better than I. Even ifI should not know the exact spot, it may be that I can tell by thegeneral features its approximate locality, and thus limit our searchto a comparatively small area."
Patty knew that her refusal to show the photograph could not fail toplace her in an unfavorable position. Either she would appear todistrust this man whom she had no reason to distrust, or her acti
onwould be attributed to a selfish intention to keep the secret toherself, even though she knew she could only file one claim. The man'sargument had been entirely reasonable--in fact, it seemed the sensiblething to do. Nevertheless, she did refuse, and refuse flatly: "Ithink, Mr. Bethune, that I would rather play a lone hand. You see, Istarted in on this thing alone, and I want to see it through--for thepresent, at least. After a while, if I find that I cannot succeedalone, I shall be glad of your assistance. I suppose you think me afool, but it's a matter of pride, I guess."
Was it fancy, or did the black eyes flash a gleam of hate--a glitterof rage beneath their long up-curving lashes? And did the swarthy faceflush a shade darker beneath its tan? Patty could not be sure, for thenext moment he was speaking in a voice under perfect control: "I canwell understand your feeling in the matter, Miss Sinclair, and I havenothing of reproach. I do think you are making a mistake. With VilHolland knowing what he does of your father's operations, time may bea vital factor in the success of your undertaking. Let me caution youagain against carrying the photograph upon your person."
"Oh, I keep that safely hidden where no one would ever think ofsearching for it," smiled the girl, and Bethune noted that her eyesinvoluntarily swept the cabin with a glance.
The man mounted: "I will no longer keep you from your work," he said."I have arranged to spend the summer in the hills where I shall carryon some prospecting upon my own account. If I can be of any assistanceto you--if you should need any advice, or help of any kind, a wordwill procure it. I shall stop in occasionally to see how you fare.Good-bye." He waved his hand and rode off down the creek where, in acottonwood thicket he dismounted and watched the girl ride away in theopposite direction, noted that Lord Clendenning swung stealthily, intothe trail behind her, and swinging into his saddle rode swiftly towardthe cabin.
In his high notch in the hills, Vil Holland chuckled audibly, andcatching up his horse, headed for his camp.