Part 26 (1/2)

Still without speaking, Douglas threw himself on his horse and was off after the dim figure that raced down the west trail which led to the Pa.s.s. He did not heed Judith's call nor the quick patter of hoofs behind him. On and on through the frosty April night, Prince barking joyfully before, the Moose galloping at top speed, the stars sliding overhead. On past the Browns' noisy corral, past Falkner's brightly lighted cabin, and up the lifting trail to the Pa.s.s. The broken black line of the Pa.s.s, usually so clean-cut against the stars, looked wavering and uncertain.

Douglas dropped forward and put his arms about the neck of the Moose.

Once in a while a horse is born with as much ac.u.men as a mule plus the sensibility of a dog. The Moose, when he felt Doug's arms about his neck, dropped from a gallop to a trot and from a trot to a walk. Shortly, when Judith called, ”Whoa-up, Moose!” he stopped and stood nickering uneasily.

Judith dismounted and pulled the reins over Buster's head. Then she ran up to put her hand on Doug's knee.

”Doug! Doug! Where did he get you?”

”Don't hold me back, Jude!” said Douglas thickly. ”Tie me onto the Moose and leave me after him. I'm going to finish him, now.”

”You can't catch him. You're hurt too bad. Let me take you home, Doug.”

There was no reply for a moment. The Moose moved his head uneasily up and down. Then, breathing heavily and brokenly, Douglas said, ”Not--while you--think I told--Charleton.”

That was the last he knew for some time. When he returned to consciousness, Peter and Judith were half dragging him, half lifting him into the post-office.

”I don't care what you want, Jude,” Peter was saying, ”you aren't going to drag him another hour over the trail. We'll get him onto my bed and see how bad off he is.”

”My shoulder!” grunted Douglas.

”All right, Doug! Now, Judith, one more heave onto the bed. Get off there, Sister. Jude, pa.s.s me that bottle of whiskey, then go lock the outside door so's no one can bother till I've finished. Then come back here.”

Judith, her eyes wide and brilliant, her cheeks feverish, obeyed without a word. She drew off Doug's short leather rider's coat and cut off his blood-saturated s.h.i.+rt and unders.h.i.+rt. Douglas watched her with beads of sweat on his lips. Peter in the meantime had thrust his late supper back from the front of the stove and had put a couple of disreputable looking towels to boil in the dishpan. When Judith had finished and Doug's beautiful thin torso lay white against the dingy Indian blanket, Peter scoured his hands and examined the hole in the shoulder from which the blood pulsed slowly.

”It's gone clean through from front to back,” said Peter cheerfully.

”Guess I can fix him. Eight years in the regular service is useful sometimes. Come here and hold him, Jude. I'm going to clean this hole with peroxide and he'll try to climb the wall.”

”No, I won't! Go to it!” whispered Douglas.

Nor did he, for as Peter, with a piece of stove-pipe wire he had boiled as a probe, began his very thorough process of sterilization, Douglas quietly fainted. When he came to his senses, his shoulder was bandaged and Judith was pulling an old s.h.i.+rt of Peter's over his head.

”Now, Judith, make a fresh pot of coffee and drink some of it,” said Peter. ”You are as white as a sheet. How are you, Doug, my boy?”

”Fine! Peter, you get me drunk. I'm going after Scott to-night.”

”Let's have the story.” Peter's lips were grim, ”You begin, Judith.”

Judith set the coffee-pot on the red-hot stove and perched on the edge of the bed. She was wearing a middy blouse of dull blue. It was small for her and showed her fine shoulder and full-muscled throat and chest. She drew a deep breath and began at once.

”I was riding past Inez' place with Scott. He teased me to go in for a dance. When I wouldn't go, he asked me if I was sore at Inez because Douglas spent half his time there with her. Doug must have been behind his horse. He came out like a crazy man, called Scott a liar and told him to come down and fight, and hit him. Scott drew on him and shot him. Then he rode away like mad, and Doug after him. I followed and caught Doug part way up the Pa.s.s and brought him here.”

Judith paused and Peter turned to Douglas. ”All correct, Doug?”

But the young rider was staring at Judith. ”Did you believe Scott, Judith?” he demanded.

”How do I know what you've been up to? You were there to-night.”

”I hadn't seen Inez. I haven't been near her place since I made you a promise, once. I went over to-night because I was discouraged. I'd made up my mind that there wasn't anything real about anybody. Even Charleton isn't real. Now, Peter, you give me a quart of whiskey and help me onto the Moose. I'll--”

”You'll calm down, that's what you'll do,” said Judith succinctly. ”Won't he, Peter? When Scott finds he hasn't killed you, he'll be back and then you can settle with him. Peter, you telephone my mother I'm going to stay down here for a while and take care of Doug.”