Part 22 (2/2)
”Obey orders and obey 'em quick!”
And Jerry obeyed. With the unflurried agility Tommy had taught her she mounted Ranlett's horse and turned him in the direction of the shack.
The animal side-stepped and tried to look in the direction of his master but the girl touched him with her spurs, and urged him on. She unhitched Patches. She looked like a slender boy as she led him by a backward stretched left hand up the slope. The moments that she spent ascending were one long prayer that the hillside would not encore its disappearing trick. She felt an irresistible desire to look back but she remembered the salty fate of Lot's wife and kept doggedly on.
As she gained the shelter of the pines at the top of the hill she heard a shot. Her face went white. Who had fired it? Ranlett or Beechy? Beechy was weak from the blow on his head; he could easily be overcome. She listened. A flock of magpies lighted in the tree above her, observed the strange figure below them for a moment then flew away in noisy haste. As the sound of their raucous voices died in the distance Jerry heard another sound, the sound of gravel slipping. Who was coming? She hastily changed mounts and twisted her hand in the bridle of the big horse. If it were Ranlett she would race at breakneck speed toward Greyson's, the X Y Z was nearer than the Double O, taking The Piker with her. Her breath came so hard it hurt her throat. Eyes dilated with excitement she watched the brow of the hill. The sound of the slipping gravel came nearer and nearer. Then she heard labored breathing. The suspense was unendurable; she felt as though she must scream. A man staggered into sight. It was Beechy. She slipped from her horse and called him softly.
”This way! Quick!” As he stumbled toward her she noted the pallor of his face. She didn't dare leave the horses to go to his a.s.sistance. With a bridle in each hand she went forward to meet him.
”I'm about all--in, Mrs. Lieut.,” he panted. ”The blow and this climb have about finished a job the--war--started.”
She slipped her arm under his. Her eyes were tender with concern.
”Lean on me a moment. You mustn't give way now, Beechy. Get on Ranlett's horse. We must get away from here. He may follow.” He laughed weakly.
”Follow! Nothing doing. Just to make sure he wouldn't I put a bullet through his leg. I couldn't have him interferin' with the job you an' I have to put across. He'll go as far as the shack while the goin's good.”
”But he may starve!”
”You should worry. There are provisions to withstand a siege cached under that cabin. Forget him. If you're the good little sport I you are you've got a job----”
”Listen!”
Jerry laid her hand over her heart. Beechy raised his heavy head from the side of the horse where he had rested it. His eyes narrowed into mere slits. From the hillside came the sound of slipping gravel.
”Well, I'll be----”
”It's Ranlett! He's creeping up!” the girl whispered tensely. ”You must mount. He may have found a gun.” Then as he shook his head weakly, ”If you don't I shall stay with you and you may never get a chance to tell me what I am to do.”
”Help me up!” The white beneath Beechy's skin had changed to crimson.
His teeth clenched as he pulled himself into the saddle. He held tight to the horn with his two hands.
”Mount! Quick!” he panted. ”Now ride close beside me while I tell you----” for an instant his eyes lost their purpose. He slipped over to one side. Jerry caught him and steadied him.
”'Tention company!” he drawled foolishly as he tried to straighten in the saddle.
”You must keep on, Beechy! Grip your mind tight till we reach the Lieutenant,” pleaded the girl, always with one ear turned to the sinister, slipping sound that drew nearer and nearer up the hillside. It seemed as though the reference to Courtlandt had power to conjure strength. With a stifled groan the man eased himself in the saddle.
”I can ride this way. Don't lose your sand, Mrs. Lieut. I've pulled through worse sc.r.a.pes than this. We'll beat 'em yet.”
They left the pines and began the descent of the hill. The innocent cloud bank in the southwest had spread in great jagged peaks until it darkened the heavens and the fields beneath them. The stream looked like a drab ribbon splashed with white. They rode silently. Beechy conserved his strength. ”When we get to the level I'll talk,” he vouchsafed once through blue lips. Jerry kept close beside him. Across the valley lights were beginning to appear in the X Y Z. She felt as though she were in a horrid nightmare from which she must waken to find herself safe in her own charming rooms at the Double O. Beechy's voice dispelled her illusion. In obedience to a gesture of his she pulled up her horse as they reached the level.
”We've got to work quick, Mrs. Lieut. This rustling dope of Ranlett's is a bluff. When he cut the fences in Lower Field he figured that the Double O outfit to a man would hunt for the cattle in that direction--away from the railroad.”
”The railroad!”
”Yes. Listen. No,--I'm not going to fall.--Not till I've put you wise.”
The knuckles of his hand showed white as he gripped the saddle-horn.
”To-night a car, carrying silver bricks from the mint in Philadelphia goes through on its way to the coast. It's attached to the regular evening train--it's under armed guard--but--Ranlett----” It was characteristic of the girl that instead of demanding how he knew she announced breathlessly:
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