CHAPTER V
THE PURSUIT
As twilight deepened, Katherine lay in the hammock thankful for thesoothing effect of the darkness on her aching eyes. She felt a littletroubled about Kut-le. She was very fond of the young Indian. Sheunderstood him as did no one else, perhaps, and had the utmost faith inhis honor and loyalty. She suspected that Rhoda had had much to dowith the young Indian's sudden departure and she felt irritated withthe girl, though at the same time she acknowledged that Rhoda had doneonly what she, Katherine, had advised--had treated Kut-le as if he hadbeen a white man!
She watched the trail for Rhoda's return but darkness came and therewas no sign of the frail figure. A little disturbed, she walked to thecorral bars and looked down to the lights of the cowboys' quarters. Ifonly John DeWitt and Jack would return! But she did not expect thembefore midnight. She returned to the house and telephoned to the ranchforeman.
"Don't you worry, ma'am," he answered cheerily. "No harm could come toher! She just walked till it got dark and is just starting for homenow, I bet! She can't have got out of sight of the ranch lights."
"But she may have! You can't tell what she's done, she's such atenderfoot," insisted Katherine nervously. "She may have been hurt!"
It was well that Katherine could not see the foreman's face during theconversation. It had a decided scowl of apprehension, but he managed acheerful laugh.
"Well, you _have_ got nervous, Mrs. Newman! I'll just send three orfour of the boys out to meet her. Eh?"
"Oh, yes, do!" cried Katherine. "I shall feel easier. Good-by!"
Dick Freeman dropped the receiver and hurried into the neighboringbunk-house.
"Boys," he said quietly, "Mrs. Newman just 'phoned me that Miss Tuttlewent to walk at sunset, to be gone half an hour. She ain't got backyet. She is alone. Will some of you come with me?"
Every hand of cards was dropped before Dick was half through hisstatement. In less than twenty minutes twenty cowboys were circlingslowly out into the desert. For two hours Katherine paced from theliving-room to the veranda, from the veranda to the corral. Shechanged her light evening gown to her khaki riding habit. Hernervousness grew to panic. She sent Li Chung to bed, then she pacedthe lawn, listening, listening.
At last she heard the thud of hoofs and Dick Freeman dismounted in thelight that streamed from the open door.
"We haven't found her, Mrs. Newman. Has Mr. Newman got back? I thinkwe must get up an organized search."
Katherine could feel her heart thump heavily.
"No, he hasn't. Have you found her trail?"
"No; it's awful hard to trail in the dark, and the desert for milesaround the ranch is all cut up with footprints and hoof-marks, youknow."
Katherine wrung her hands.
"Oh, poor little Rhoda!" she cried. "What shall we do!"
"No harm can come to her," insisted Dick. "She will know enough to sittight till daylight, then we will have her before the heat gets up."
"Oh, if she only will!" moaned Katherine. "Do whatever you think best,Dick, and I'll send Jack and John DeWitt to you as soon as they return."
Dick swung himself to the saddle again.
"Better go in and read something, Mrs. Newman. You mustn't worryyourself sick until you are sure you have something to worry about."
How she passed the rest of the night, Katherine never knew. A littleafter midnight, Jack came in, his face tense and anxious. Katherinepaled as she saw his expression. She knew he had met some of thesearchers. When Jack saw the color leave his wife's pretty cheeks, hekissed her very tenderly and for a moment they clung to each othersilently, thinking of the delicate girl adrift on the desert.
"Where is John DeWitt?" asked Katherine after a moment.
"He's almost crazy. He's with Dick Freeman. Only stopped for a freshhorse."
"They have no trace?" questioned Katherine.
Jack shook his head.
"You know what a proposition it is to hunt for as small an object as ahuman, in the desert. Give me your smelling salts and the littleNavajo blanket. One--one can't tell whether she's hurt or not."
Katherine began to sob as she obeyed.
"You are all angel good not to blame me, but I know it's my fault. Ishouldn't have let her go. But she is so sensible, usually."
"Dear heart!" said Jack, rolling up the Navajo. "Any one that knowsdear old Rhoda knows that what she will, she will, and you are not toblame. Go to bed and sleep if you can."
"Oh, Jack, I can't! Let me go with you, do!"
But Jack shook his head.
"You aren't strong enough to do any good and some one must stay here torun things."
So again Katherine was left to pace the veranda. All night the searchwent on. Jack sent messages to the neighboring ranches and thefollowing morning fifty men were in the saddle seeking Rhoda's trail.Jack also sent into the Pueblo country for Kut-le, feeling that his aidwould be invaluable. It would take some time to get a reply from theIndians and in the meantime the search went on rigorously, with notrace of the trail to be found.
John DeWitt did not return to the ranch until the afternoon afterRhoda's disappearance. Then, disheveled, with bloodshot eyes, crackedlips and blistered face, he dropped exhausted on the veranda steps.Katherine and Jack greeted him with quiet sympathy.
"I came in to get fixed up for a long cruise," said John. "My ponywent lame, and I want a flannel shirt instead of this silk thing I hadon last night. I wish to God Kut-le would come! I suppose he couldread what we are blind to."
"You bet!" cried Jack. "I expect an answer from his friends thisafternoon. I just had a telegram from Porter, in answer to one I senthim this morning. I caught him at Brown's and he will be here thisafternoon. He knows almost as much as an Indian about following atrail."
They all spoke in the hushed tones one employs in the sick-room. Jacktried to persuade DeWitt to eat and sleep but he refused, his forcedcalm giving way to a hoarse, "For heaven's sake, can I rest when she isdying out there!"
John had not finished his feverish preparations when Billy Porterstalked into the living-room. As he entered, the telephone rang andJack answered it. Then he returned to the eager group.
"Kut-le has gone on a long hunt with some of his people. They don'tknow where he went and refuse to look for him."
Billy Porter gave a hard, mirthless laugh.
"Why certainly! Jack, you ought to have a hole bored into your head tolet in a little light. Kut-le gone. Can't find Rhoda's trail. Kut-lein love with Rhoda. Kut-le an Indian. Rhoda refuses him--he goesoff--gets some of his chums and when he catches Rhoda alone he stealsher. He will keep a man behind, covering his trail. Oh, you easyEasterners make me sick!"
The Newmans and DeWitt stood staring at Porter with horror in theireyes. The clock ticked for an instant then DeWitt gave a groan andbowed his head against the mantelpiece. Katherine ran to him and triedto pull his head to her little shoulder.
"O John, don't! Don't! Maybe Billy is right. I'm afraid he is! Butone thing I do know. Rhoda is as safe in Kut-le's hands as she wouldbe in Jack's. I know it, John!"
John did not move, but at Katherine's words the color came back intoJack Newman's face.
"That's right!" he said stoutly. "It's a devilish thing for Kut-le todo. But she's safe, John, old boy, I'm sure she is."
Billy Porter, conscience-stricken at the effect of his words, clappedJohn on the shoulder.
"Aw shucks! I let my Injun hate get the best of my tongue. Of courseshe's safe enough; only the darn devil's got to be caught before hegets to Mexico and makes some padre marry 'em. So it's us to thesaddle a whole heap."
"We'd better get an Indian to help trail," said Jack.
"You'll have a sweet time getting an Injun to trail Kut-le!" saidPorter. "The Injuns half worship him. They think he's got some kindof strong medicine; you know that. You get one and he'll keep you offthe trail instead of on. I can follow the trail as soon a
s he quitscovering it. Get the canteens and come on. We don't need a millioncowboys running round promiscuous over the sand. Numbers don't help intrailing an Injun. It's experience and patience. It may take us twoweeks and we'll outfit for that. But we'll get him in the end. Crookalways did."
There was that in Billy Porter's voice which put heart into hislisteners. John DeWitt lifted his head, and while his blue eyesreturned the gaze of the others miserably, he squared his shouldersdoggedly.
"I'm ready," he said briefly.
"Oh, let me come!" cried Katherine. "I can't bear this waiting!"
Billy smiled.
"Why, Mrs. Jack, you'd be dried up and blowed away before the first daywas over."
"But Rhoda is enduring it!" protested Katherine, with quivering lips.
"God!" John DeWitt muttered and flung himself from the house to thecorral. The other two followed him at once.
It was mid-afternoon when the three rode into the quivering yellow hazeof the desert followed by a little string of pack horses. It was nownearing twenty-four hours since Rhoda had disappeared and in that timethere had been little sand blowing. This meant that the trail could beeasily followed were it found. The men rode single file, Billy Porterleading. All wore blue flannel shirts and khaki trousers. John DeWittrode Eastern park fashion, with short stirrup, rising from the saddlewith the trot. Jack and Billy rode Western fashion, long stirrup, aninseparable part of their horses, a fashion that John DeWitt was to beforced to learn in the fearful days to come.
Billy Porter declaimed in a loud voice from the head of the procession.
"Of course, Kut-le has taken to the mountains. He'll steer clear ofranches and cowboys for a while. Our chance lies in his giving upcovering his trail after he gets well into the ranges. We will get histrail and hang on till we can outwit him. If he was alone, we'd neverget him, barring accident. But he will be a lot hampered by Miss Rhodaand I trust to her to hamper him a whole lot after she gets her handin."
All the rest of the burning afternoon they moved toward the mountains.It was quite dusk when they entered the foothills. The way, not goodat best, grew difficult and dangerous to follow. Billy led on,however, until darkness closed down on them in a little cactus-growncanon. Here he halted and ordered camp for a few hours.
"Lord!" exclaimed DeWitt. "You're not going to camp! I thought youwere really going to do something!"
Billy finished lighting the fire and by its light he gave an impatientglance at the tenderfoot. But the look of the burned, sand-grimedface, the bloodshot eyes, blazing with anxiety, caused him to speakpatiently.
"Can't kill the horses, DeWitt. You must make up your mind that thisis going to be a hard hunt. You got to call out all the strengthyou've been storing up all your life, and then some. We've got to usecommon sense. Lord, I want to get ahead, don't I! I seen Miss Rhoda.I know what she's like. This ain't any joy ride for me, either. I gota lot of feeling in it."
John DeWitt extended his sun-blistered right hand and Billy Porterclasped it with his brown paw.
Jack Newman cleared his throat.
"Did you give your horse enough rope, John? There is a good lot ofgrass close to the canon wall. Quick as you finish your coffee, oldman, roll in your blanket. We will rest till midnight when the mooncomes up, eh, Billy?"
DeWitt, finally convinced of the good sense and earnestness of hisfriends, obeyed. The canon was still in darkness when Jack shook himinto wakefulness but the mountain peak above was a glorious silver.Camp was broken quickly and in a short time Billy was leading the wayup the wretched trail. DeWitt's four hours of sleep had helped him.He could, to some degree, control the feverish anxiety that wasconsuming him and he tried to turn his mind from picturing Rhoda'sagonies to castigating himself for leaving her unguarded even thoughKut-le had left the ranch. Before leaving the ranch that afternoon hehad telegraphed and written Rhoda's only living relative, her AuntMary. He had been thankful as he wrote that Rhoda had no mother. Hehad so liked the young Indian; there had been such good feeling betweenthem that he could not yet believe that Porter's surmise was whollycorrect.
"Supposing," he said aloud, "that you are wrong, Porter? Supposingthat she's--she's dying of thirst down there in the desert? You haveno proof of Kut-le's doing it. It's only founded on your Indian hate,you say yourself."
"That's right," said Newman. "Are you sure we aren't wasting time,Billy?"
Billy turned in the saddle to face them.
"Well, boys," he said, "you've got half the county scratching thedesert with a fine-tooth comb. I don't see how we three can help verymuch there. On the other hand we might do some good up here. Now I'llmake a bargain with you. If by midnight tonight we ain't struck anytrace of her, you folks can quit."
"And what will you do?" asked Jack.
"Me?" Billy shrugged his shoulders. "Why, I'll keep on this trailtill my legs is wore off above my boots!" and he turned to guide hispony up a little branch trail at the top of which stood a tent with thetelltale windlass and forge close by.
Before the tent they drew rein. In response to Billy's call arough-bearded fellow lifted the tent flap and stood suppressing a yawn,as if visitors to his lonely claim were of daily occurrence.
"Say, friend," said Billy, "do you know Newman's ranch?"
"Sure," returned the prospector.
"Well, this is Mr. Newman. A young lady has been visiting him and hiswife. She disappeared night before last. We suspicion that Cartwell,that educated Injun, has stole her. We're trying to find his trail.Can you give us a hunch?"
The sleepy look left the prospector's eyes. He crossed the rocks toput a hand on Billy's pommel.
"Gee! Ain't that ungodly!" he exclaimed. "I ain't seen a soul. Butnight before last I heard a screaming in my sleep. It woke me up butwhen I got out here I couldn't hear a thing. It was faint and far awayand I decided it was a wildcat. Do you suppose it was her?"
DeWitt ground his teeth together and his hands shook but he made nosound. Jack breathed heavily.
"You think it was a woman?" asked Billy hoarsely.
The prospector spoke hesitatingly.
"If I'd been shore, I'd a gone on a hunt. But it was all kind of in mysleep. It was from way back in the mountain there."
"Thanks," said Billy, "we'll be on our way."
"It's four o'clock. Better stop and have some grub with me, then I'lljoin in and help you."
"No!" cried DeWitt, breaking his silence. "No!"
"That's the young lady's financier," said Billy, nodding toward John.
"Sho!" said the prospector sympathetically.
Billy lifted his reins.
"Thanks, we'll be getting along, I guess. Just as much obliged to you.We'll water here in your spring."
They moved on in the direction whither the prospector had pointed.They rode in silence. Dawn came slowly, clearly. The peaks liftedmagnificently, range after range against the rosy sky. There was notrail. They followed the possible way. The patient little cow poniesclambered over rocks and slid down inclines of a frightful angle ascleverly as mountain goats. At ten o'clock, they stopped for breakfastand a three hours' sleep. It was some time before DeWitt could bepersuaded to lie down but at last, perceiving that he was keeping theothers from their rest, he took his blanket to the edge of the ledgeand lay down.
His sleepless eyes roved up and down the adjoining canon. Far to thesouth, near the desert floor, he saw a fluttering bit of white. Now afluttering bit of white, far from human byways, means something!Tenderfoot though he was, DeWitt realized this and sleep left his eyes.He sat erect. For a moment he was tempted to call the others but herestrained himself. He would let them rest while he kept watch overthe little white beacon, for so, unaccountably, it seemed to him. Heeyed it hungrily, and then a vague comfort and hopefulness came to himand he fell asleep.
Jack's lusty call to coffee woke him. DeWitt jumped to his feet andwith a new light in his eyes he pointed out hi
s discovery. The mealwas disposed of very hurriedly and, leaving Jack to watch the camp,John and Billy crossed the canon southward. After heavy scramblingthey reached the foot of the canon wall. Twenty feet above themdangled a white cloth. Catching any sort of hand and foot hold, Johnclambered upward. Then he gave a great shout of joy. Rhoda's neckscarf with the pebble pinned in one end was in his hands! DeWitt slidto the ground and he and Billy examined the scarf tenderly, eagerly.
"I told you! I told you!" exulted Billy hoarsely. "See that weightfastened to it? Wasn't that smart of her? Bless her heart! Now wegot to get above, somehow, and find where she dropped it from!"