Part 14 (1/2)
Starr took the gla.s.ses down from his eyes and let them dangle by their cord while he walked over the nose of the ridge to where she was waiting for him.
Half-way there, a streak of fire seemed to sear his arm near his shoulder. Starr knew the feeling well enough. He staggered and went down headlong in a clump of greasewood, and at the same instant the report of a rifle came clearly from the high pinnacle at the head of Sunlight Basin.
Helen May came running, her face white with horror, for she had seen Starr fall just as the sound of the shot came to tell her why. She did not cry out, but she rushed to where he lay half concealed in the bushes.
When she came near him, she stopped short. For Starr was lying on his stomach with his head up and elbows in the sand, steadying the gla.s.ses to his eyes that he might search that pinnacle.
”W-what made you fall down like that?” Helen May cried exasperatedly.
”I--I thought you were shot!”
”I am, to a certain extent,” Starr told her unconcernedly. ”Kneel down here beside me and act scared, will you? And in a minute I want you to climb on the pinto and ride around behind them rocks and wait for me.
Take Rabbit with you. Act like you was going for help, or was scared and running away from a corpse. You get me? I'll crawl over there after a little.”
”W-why? Are you hurt so you can't walk?”
Helen May did not have to act; she was scared quite enough for Starr's purpose.
”Oh, I could walk, but walking ain't healthy right now. Jump up now and climb your horse like you was expecting to ride him down to a whisper. Go on--beat it. And when you get outa sight of the pinnacle, stay outa sight. Run!”
There were several questions which Helen May wanted to ask, but she only gave him a hasty, imploring glance which Starr did not see at all, since his eyes were focussed on the pinnacle. She ran to the pinto and scared him so that he jumped away from her. Starr heard and glanced impatiently back at her. He saw that she had managed to get the reins and was mounting with all the haste and all the awkwardness he could possibly expect of her, and he grinned and returned to his scrutiny of the peak.
Whatever he saw he kept to himself; but presently he began to wriggle backward, keeping the greasewood clump, and afterwards certain rocks and little ridges, between himself and a view of the point he had fixed upon as the spot where the shooter had stood.
When he had rounded the first rock ledge he got up and looked for Helen May, and found her standing a couple of rods off, watching him anxiously.
He smiled rea.s.suringly at her while he dusted his trousers with the flat of his hands.
”Fine and dandy,” he said. ”Whoever took a pot-shot at me thinks he got me first crack. See? Now listen, lady. That maybe was some herder out gunning for coyotes, and maybe he was gunning for me. I licked a herder that ranges over that way, and he maybe thought he'd play even. But anyway, don't say anything about it to anybody, will you. I kinda--”
”Why not? If he shot at you, he wanted to kill you. And that's murder; he ought to be--”
”Now, you know you said yourself that herders go crazy. I don't want to get the poor b.o.o.b into trouble. Let's not say anything about it. I've got to go now; I've stayed longer than I meant to, as it is. Have Vic put that halter that's on the saddle on the pinto, and tie the rope to it and let it drag. He won't go away, and you can catch him without any bother.
If Vic don't know how to set the saddle, you take notice just how it's fixed when you take it off. I meant to show you how, but I can't stop now. And don't go anywhere, not even to the mail box, without Pat or your six-gun, or both. Come here, Rabbit, you old scoundrel!
”I wish I could stay,” he added, swinging up to the saddle and looking down at her anxiously. ”Don't let Vic monkey with that automatic till I come and show him how to use it. I--”
”You said you were shot,” said Helen May, staring at him enigmatically from under her lashes. ”Are you?”
”Not much; burnt a streak on my arm, nothing to bother about. Now remember and don't leave your gun--”
”I don't believe it was because you licked a herder. What made somebody shoot at you? Was it--on account of Pat?”
”Pat? No, I don't see what the dog would have to do with it. It was some half-baked herder, shooting maybe because he heard us shoot and thought we was using him for a target. You can't,” Starr declared firmly, ”tell what fool idea they'll get into their heads. It was our shooting, most likely. Now I must go. Adios, I'll see yuh before long.”
”Well, but what--”
Helen May found herself speaking to the scenery. Starr was gone with Rabbit at a sliding trot down the slope that kept the ridge between him and the pinnacle. She stood staring after him blankly, her hat askew on the back of her head, and her lips parted in futile astonishment. She did not in the least realize just what Starr's extreme caution had meant. She had no inkling of the real gravity of the situation, for her ignorance of the lawless possibilities of that big, bare country insulated her against understanding.
What struck her most forcibly was the cool manner in which he had ordered her to act a part, and the unhesitating manner in which she had obeyed him. He ordered her about, she thought, as though he had a right; and she obeyed as though she recognized that right.