Part 40 (1/2)
We all kicked about waitin' a week, but finally compromised on five days as bein' about the right interval to allow before notifyin' the legal authorities. Then we advised the Friar to go down by the ravine as it would take him to the ranch by the back way where he wouldn't be so likely to attract attention, especially from the dogs.
He asked Horace to ride with him until he could get a landmark; so Horace flung his saddle on a hoss an' started along, while the rest of us made ready to go trout-fis.h.i.+n', or take a snooze, or shake the cards, accordin' to the way we generally amused ourselves when loafin'. The Friar turned back once on the pretense that he wanted to get a good drink o' water before startin'; but he found us scattered out peaceful an' resigned, so he headed away at good speed.
Horace took him the open road, while we went mostly through cuts, the way we had allus gone to our look-out. Our way was some the longer; but we pushed our hosses a little more, and made the look-out just as the Friar reached the point where the path went down into the ravine.
Horace had agreed to do all he could to get the Friar to go up to the clump of bushes where the woman spent her afternoons, though he said he doubted if the Friar would do it.
I had the field gla.s.ses with me, and kept 'em on the Friar's face when he paused to examine the spot and make sure he was right. He couldn't see the ranch buildin's from where he was, nor the path leadin' to the clump of trees. I could see his face plain through the gla.s.ses, and he had taken the guy ropes off and let it sag into just the way he felt.
It was filled with pain an' sufferin'.
As soon as Horace came, he and I sneaked down to the bunch o' big rocks from which we could see the path as it dipped from the opposite edge of the ravine, leavin' the rest of the boys to watch the ranch buildin's. We could see them from where we were, and they could see us, and we had a signal for us to come back, or them to come to us; and another that the Friar was gettin' it bad down below, and to make a rush for him. We hadn't seen any one about the buildin's, except the Chinese cook. Our plan was to not rush the buildin's right away, unless we saw the Friar gettin' manhandled beyond his endurance.
Horace said 'at the Friar had refused to go to the clump o' trees to see the woman, as it might give the impression that she had sent word to him to meet her there, and he wouldn't cast the slightest suspicion upon her name.
”Horace,” I said, as an awful fear struck me, ”supposin' after all, it ain't the right woman!”
Horace's eyes stuck out like the tail lights on a freight caboose.
”Oh, I'm sure it's the same woman,” sez he. ”Course she's changed some; but we couldn't all three be mistaken.”
”I still think it's the same woman,” sez I; ”but as far as all three not bein' mistaken, the's nothin' to that. Half o' the fellers who make bets are mistaken, and most of us make bets. Still I think she's the same woman.”
In spite of this doubt, I was feelin' purty comfortable. The other time we had been there, I hadn't been able to think up any excuse as to why; but this time I felt I was in right and it left me free to enjoy the prospects of a little excitement. I allus try to be honest with myself; and when I'm elated up over anything, I generally aim to trail back my feelin's to their exact cause. I'm bound to admit that when I'm certain that any trouble likely to arise will be thrust upon me in spite of my own moral conduct, I allus take a pleasant satisfaction in waitin' for it.
The Friar slid his hoss down the bank o' the ravine, and disappeared just a few moments before we saw the woman comin' along the path from the clump of trees. We kept glancin' up at the look-out now and again, but mostly we glued our eyes on the woman. Horace hogged the field gla.s.ses most o' the time, but my eyes were a blame sight better 'n his, so I didn't kick about it much.
When she reached the edge o' the ravine, she paused and gave a little start. ”Does she know him, Horace?” I sez.
”She don't seem to,” sez Horace. ”She's speakin' down at him; but her face looks as though she didn't know him.”
”If it's the wrong woman,” sez I, ”I'm goin' to start to the North Pole to locate the fool-killer.”
While I spoke, she started down the path slow and matter o' fact; and me an' Horace scuttled back to the look-out to be in time to see 'em come out at the bottom-providin' the Friar went on with her.
We didn't get there more 'n two minutes before they came out at the bottom; but it seemed a week. When they finally came into sight, the Friar was walkin' an' leadin' his hoss, and she was walkin' at his side about four feet from him with a big dog on each side of her. Just then we saw six Cross-branders ride in toward the corral.
”It looks calm an' quiet,” drawled ol' Tank, his free eye bouncin'
about like a rubber ball; ”but I'll bet two cookies again' the hole in a doughnut that we have a tol'able fair sized storm before mornin'.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
THE FRIAR GIVEN TWO WEEKS
As Friar Tuck and the woman came out of the mouth of the ravine, Ty Jones came out of the back door of the old cabin. He stopped a moment, lookin' at 'em, rubbed his eyes an' looked again. Then he walked towards 'em. He spoke somethin' to the Friar, and the Friar answered it. The woman didn't pay any heed at all; but went around the new cabin to the door which was on the other side. Three more Cross-branders rode in, and Ty Jones shook his fist at the Friar.
Ol' Tank was cussin' under his breath for comfort, but it didn't keep him from gettin' fidgetty. ”Isn't the' no sort of a tool, Horace,” he blurted out, ”that'll stretch out your hearin' the way these field gla.s.ses stretch out your eyesight? I'd be willin' to have one of my ears run as wild as my free eye, forever after, if it could just hear, now, what Ty Jones is a-speakin' to the Friar. I'm beginnin' to get nervous.”
We all felt about the same way; but it was about two miles down to where they were, so all we could do was to watch.