Part 26 (2/2)

He and his bunch are figurin' to rob the west-bound to-night at Devil's Hold-up. Government silver. Watch out! Ranlett has spies everywhere.”

There had been no signature, no mention of Simms, but Courtlandt felt sure that he was in on the deal and that the wife was trying to keep her husband from being caught in what might easily prove to be more than robbery. His first reaction from the message had been amused incredulity. It was absurd to believe that in these enlightened days a man of Ranlett's intelligence, and he was infernally intelligent, would try to get away with such a mid-eighties stunt. The sense of amus.e.m.e.nt was succeeded by startled conviction. The fact was that Ranlett did think he could put it across and was to make the attempt that night. He must hustle through his work and make Slippy Bend in time to board the train. He could neither wire nor 'phone if it were true that Ranlett had spies everywhere. He must keep his own counsel until he could talk with the official in charge of the west-bound.

After that he had followed trails and conferred with ranch section heads. As clouds began to spread out from the southwest he galloped into Slippy Bend. He had supper in a leisurely fas.h.i.+on at the one hotel, dropped into the post-office for a chat with Sandy, who was sorting his mail for the morrow's trip, and discussed crops and stock and tractors with the group of men gathered there. He had reached the railroad station about ten minutes before the treasure train was due. He hailed the railroad man-of-all-work whose slouch relegated him unquestionably to the preefficiency era.

”West-bound on time? I'm going up the line to follow some steers that have mysteriously wandered off. I'm not looking for trouble, but----” He tapped the holster which hung from his belt. Baldy Jennings, whose head resembled a s.h.i.+ny white island entirely surrounded by a fringe of red hair, chewed and spat with intriguing accuracy as he listened. Steve's explanation had precipitated a flow of observation.

”Shucks! The world's sick. Most of it don't want to work and them that does won't be let by them that don't. The majority seem to figur' that it's a darned sight easier to pick the other man's pocket than to fill their own by honest sweatin' labor. Sure, it never wa'n't none of my b.u.t.t-in, but I used to tell old man Fairfax that Ranlett was narrer between the horns. Oh, you don't hev to mention no names, I know who took them steers,--but cripes, it didn't do no good, he wouldn't listen to Baldy Jennings. And now the coyote's knifed you! An' your old man givin' him every chanct. Human natur'! Human natur'! Well, I gotta get busy. The railroad don't pay me sixty bucks per fer swappin' talk even with the owner of the Double O. Here comes the west-bound.” A shrill whistle echoed back and forth among the hills like a shuttlec.o.c.k. The vibration of the rails announced the coming train.

Courtlandt's pipe went out, he stopped his restless pacing of the narrow compartment as he visualized the first person who had stepped from the train. It had been Nelson who had been a captain in the battalion in which Steve had served overseas. His face, which had been white and tense when he reached the platform, had suffused with color as he recognized Courtlandt.

”Well, you can knock me for a gool, if it isn't the Whistling Lieut.!”

he cried eagerly. ”What are you doing in this teeming mart of trade?” he added, as he glanced at Baldy Jennings staring open-mouthed at the meeting and beyond him to the few coatless, vested, bearded favorite sons who leaned against the sagging building.

Courtlandt had laughed. When the fog of surprise had lifted he had seen that the years had not changed Nelson. His black eyes were as keen as ever, his little mustache had the same moth-eaten effect, the network of veins on his slightly bulbous nose were redder perhaps, and he was in civilian clothes. That realization wrinkled Steve's brow in perplexity.

”What are you doing here? Last I heard you had joined the regular army and were stationed somewhere around Phila----” Perception of the situation came in a blinding flash. Nelson's eyes met his steadily.

”There are some occasions when a soldier appears in mufti. Especially when he is pa.s.sing as the newly appointed division superintendent of a railroad.” Steve drew a breath. So that was it. His eyes traveled over the train. Which was the treasure car? Obviously the one in the middle which looked like an ordinary baggage-car. The rest were brilliantly lighted coaches, from the windows of which eyes peered out curiously, indifferently or interestedly as the temperaments and minds behind them dictated. His glance came back to Nelson.

”You're the man I'm looking for. I've lost some cattle, and I'm going up the line a way to look for them. I must give you all particulars. I'm counting on you to help me, if there should happen to be any rough stuff pulled off, see?”

The two men had stood apart from the confusion of the station. The rain beat down. Over among the mountains thunder and lightning held high carnival. Courtlandt drew Nelson into the lee of the building. He struck a match and held it above his pipe till the wood burned down to his fingers. In the flickering light he and the superintendent, pro tem., had regarded one another steadily. Nelson moistened his lips:

”Sure, I see, Steve. Glad to have you along.” He raised his voice as one of the train hands approached. ”Make yourself comfortable in my quarters. Perhaps I can find a couple to make up a little game.”

Courtlandt was quite unconscious of the rumble of the train as in imagination he relived the time he had spent waiting for Nelson to join him in the double compartment which had been fitted up as an office for the superintendent. Minutes seemed hours. When he did come the smile had left his lips. His eyes were stern. He closed the door with a bang.

”Deal out what's coming, quick!” he had commanded and Steve had told him almost word for word what Mrs. Simms had written. ”You're sure of this?”

”I've given the message as it came to me. The person who sent the warning had every reason to keep mum.”

”I get you.” Nelson pulled down a map which was rolled against the side of the car. He studied the maze of lines and dots and dashes. ”Going along with us?” he had asked casually.

”The surest thing you know.” Steve remembered how absurdly light-hearted he had felt. Nelson looked so thoroughly equal to his job.

”Then you'd better--now what the devil is _that_?” he growled as the engine blew a furious warning and the brakes ground on with a suddenness which threw both men against the desk. ”We can't have reached Devil's Hold-up yet.”

And then--Courtlandt's crowding thoughts had reached the moment when he had heard a girl's voice say:

”Don't scold, Mr. Brakeman. It was reckless--but--but, you see, we had to flag this train--we--we want to go to the coast. We're--we're eloping!”

Jerry and Greyson! And he would have staked his life that she was true blue, that even if she felt that she could never love the man she had married she would have trampled temptation. The intolerable ache in Steve's heart maddened him. She should not carry out this mad plan. He wouldn't let her go if she hated him eternally. He'd make her love him, love him as he had loved her from the moment he had looked up to see her enter the living-room of Glamorgan's apartment. He had been so infernally proud that he had tortured himself by pretending indifference and now he had been brutal. He should have let her explain--he'd go now and listen to what she had to say. G.o.d help him to act the man no matter what it was. He would be tender, he would be sympathetic--but--he'd never give her up.

Nelson entered and closed the door softly behind him. His face was white, there were tiny flecks of foam on his lips, his eyes blazed.

”In five minutes we'll slow down to a crawl before entering Devil's Hold-up. The bandits counted on that. I'll go forward to the cab. Trail along after me. Leave your holster here. The pa.s.sengers mustn't get the idea that we're packing guns; get me?”

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