Part 28 (1/2)

”Well!”

”We are back at Slippy Bend. We must leave the train at once. There has been----”

”I know. The maid told me of the hold-up and that--that someone was hurt. I feared--I feared”--even her lips whitened--”I--I've been so anxious----” She caught her breath in a strangled sob. ”She said that it wasn't one of the train-hands or--or--a soldier, and I--I thought----”

”Don't worry, it wasn't Greyson,” Courtlandt cut in brusquely; his eyes flamed a warning. ”It--it was Phil Denbigh.”

”Phil Denbigh! You don't mean the man Felice married?”

”Yes--alias Bill Small, the range-rider at the B C.”

”And he--a man like that--was one of the gang?”

”No, no! Phil was in it to get information, to give warning. He is ent.i.tled to an honorable discharge from his conscience now. His testimony will rid this part of the country of about twenty undesirables, the missing Marks and Schoeffleur among them.”

She looked up in dumb incredulity for a moment, then she laughed.

”So--o, the treasure would have been saved anyway without--without----”

There was another irrepressible ripple of mirth before she asked, ”Has Bruce--has--Mr. Greyson been told?”

Her laughter, her reference to Greyson snapped Courtlandt's self-control, which was already strained to the limit of endurance. Even his lips were white as he caught her by the shoulders.

”I don't know what Greyson has been told, but he'll get it straight from me that you are mine--mine----” With sudden savage ruthlessness he caught her in his arms and kissed her s.h.i.+ning hair, her throat, her eyes. He let her go. ”Now perhaps _you_ understand it too,” he announced huskily.

Jerry shrank as far away from him as the narrow s.p.a.ce would allow. The color burned in her cheeks, her eyes blazed.

”You--you have no right to--to do that!” she reminded breathlessly.

”Haven't I?”

”Don't stand there looking like a lion ready to spring. I--I won't have it! You promised----”

”That is humorous. When you ran away with Greyson were you keeping your promise? At least, you'll acquit me of making love to--another woman.

I----” The door was thrown open violently and Nelson shouted:

”Get that girl off quick, Steve! We leave in five minutes.” The last words died in the distance as he hurried along the corridor.

”Come!” Courtlandt commanded, and with a curious look up into his eyes Jerry preceded him from the compartment. As she stepped from the train she fell almost into her sister's arms.

”Peggy!” she gasped in astonishment.

”Where the d.i.c.kens did you drop from, Peg-o'-my-heart? Why are you at Slippy Bend at this unholy hour?” Steve demanded peremptorily.

”Ye G.o.ds! Don't ask me why! For information apply to Ito. I only know that while I was walking the floor at the Double O, wild with anxiety, that j.a.p tragedian appeared and announced that he must see the excellent Mr. Benson. When I succeeded in convincing him that I couldn't produce the excellent Mr. Benson, he explained that he must take me to Slippy Bend to meet Mrs. Courtlandt, by order of his honorable master.”

”His master!” Jerry and Courtlandt echoed in unison.

”That was what he said. He did deign to explain that he had been told to telephone, but that as all lines were out of order he came himself to give the message to Mr. Benson. When he found that Tommy wasn't there he insisted upon bringing me to Slippy Bend himself.”

”Where is Tommy?”

”Don't snap, Steve. I don't know. I'm one little walking encyclopedia of ignorance to-night,” with a sob which she valiantly tried to strangle at its birth. ”Jerry, where have you been? That Chinese woman of yours met Tommy and me when we returned from our ride with some incoherent stuff about your having gone off with a gun. That sent Tommy in a mad rush after you. All I could get out of the Oriental while I was waiting was, 'Missee tlell Ming Soy when she see little Missee and Mr. Tommee Blenson she bleat glong.' If I hadn't locked her into the pantry she'd be beating it yet.” She snuggled her arm under her sister's as she asked again, ”Where have you been, Jerry?”