Part 25 (1/2)
”I'll be d.a.m.ned!” she said, rather reverently.
Hilton did not ride far. His horse was reluctant to go at first and then stopped and stood with head in the air, nickering softly and would not go on when his rider spurred him. After a moment Hilton sat still and listened. He heard the steady _plunk-plunk-plunk_ of a trotting horse and, soon, the swish of brush; then a call, rather low and cautious.
The canvas before the doorway was drawn back.
”You decided to stay?” Then, in surprise, ”Who's there?”--sharply.
One word in answer and Hilton remembered it:
”Hepburn.”
The rider dismounted and entered.
d.i.c.k rode on up the trail. When he reached Ute Crossing his clothing was dried by the early sun. He ate breakfast and crawled into his bed, angered one moment, puzzled the next and, finally, thrilled as he dropped asleep with a vision of firelight playing over a deliciously slender throat.
CHAPTER XI
HEPBURN'S PLAY
It was the next morning. Beck, standing beside Jane's desk, had told her of the foreman's departure and its motive.
”But doesn't that mean he'll be in danger?” she queried in frank dismay.
”A man who goes after horse thieves is likely to run into trouble, ma'am. That is, if he gets close to 'em. He wouldn't let anybody go with him so I guess he figures he's competent,”--dryly. ”He'll come back all right. I'd bet on it.”
”But I don't want any of you men to put yourselves in danger for me, for the things I own. I won't have it! Haven't we any law to protect us?”
Beck shook his head.
”There's law, on books. But using that law takes time and in some cases, like this, there ain't time to spare. You've got to make a law of your own or those that somebody else makes won't be worth much to you.
”It ain't just pleasant to have to go gunning for your horses and cattle, but if that's the only way to hold 'em it's got to be done.
It's either go get 'em and drive the thieves out or be driven out yourself. You don't want to be driven out, do you, ma'am?”
”You know the answer to that,” she declared resolutely. ”Where is this place? How long will it take him to get there?”
”Can't tell that. Twenty Mile is only a short ride, but we got the news late. They're probably gone yonder by now and he might trail 'em a good many days an' then lose 'em.”
Again that dryness of manner as he looked at the girl.
”And this other? This water hole? What about that?”
Beck could not give her an answer.
”It all depends on what sort of nester this is. He might be talked out of it, though that ain't likely.”
She tapped the desk with nervous fingers.