Part 44 (1/2)
Oh no! I want to have some fun with him when the time comes. He'll be wilder than a trapped wolf. I sent Blossom over to Ord to get word from Jim, an' when he verified all this talk I sent Blossom again with a message calculated to make Jim hump. Poggin got sore, said he'd wait for Jim, an' I could come over here to see you about the new job. He'd meet me in Ord.”
Knell had spoken hurriedly and low, now and then with pa.s.sion. His pale eyes glinted like fire in ice, and now his voice fell to a whisper.
”Who do you think Fletcher's new man is?”
”Who?” demanded Longstreth.
”BUCK DUANE!”
Down came Longstreth's boots with a crash, then his body grew rigid.
”That Nueces outlaw? That two-shot ace-of-spades gun-thrower who killed Bland, Alloway--?”
”An' Hardin.” Knell whispered this last name with more feeling than the apparent circ.u.mstance demanded.
”Yes; and Hardin, the best one of the Rim Rock fellows--Buck Duane!”
Longstreth was so ghastly white now that his black mustache seemed outlined against chalk. He eyed his grim lieutenant. They understood each other without more words. It was enough that Buck Duane was there in the Big Bend. Longstreth rose presently and reached for a flask, from which he drank, then offered it to Knell. He waved it aside.
”Knell,” began the chief, slowly, as he wiped his lips, ”I gathered you have some grudge against this Buck Duane.”
”Yes.”
”Well, don't be a fool now and do what Poggin or almost any of you men would--don't meet this Buck Duane. I've reason to believe he's a Texas Ranger now.”
”The h.e.l.l you say!” exclaimed Knell.
”Yes. Go to Ord and give Jim Fletcher a hunch. He'll get Poggin, and they'll fix even Buck Duane.”
”All right. I'll do my best. But if I run into Duane--”
”Don't run into him!” Longstreth's voice fairly rang with the force of its pa.s.sion and command. He wiped his face, drank again from the flask, sat down, resumed his smoking, and, drawing a paper from his vest pocket he began to study it.
”Well, I'm glad that's settled,” he said, evidently referring to the Duane matter. ”Now for the new job. This is October the eighteenth. On or before the twenty-fifth there will be a s.h.i.+pment of gold reach the Rancher's Bank of Val Verde. After you return to Ord give Poggin these orders. Keep the gang quiet. You, Poggin, Kane, Fletcher, Panhandle Smith, and Boldt to be in on the secret and the job. n.o.body else. You'll leave Ord on the twenty-third, ride across country by the trail till you get within sight of Mercer. It's a hundred miles from Bradford to Val Verde--about the same from Ord. Time your travel to get you near Val Verde on the morning of the twenty-sixth. You won't have to more than trot your horses. At two o'clock in the afternoon, sharp, ride into town and up to the Rancher's Bank. Val Verde's a pretty big town. Never been any holdups there. Town feels safe. Make it a clean, fast, daylight job.
That's all. Have you got the details?”
Knell did not even ask for the dates again.
”Suppose Poggin or me might be detained?” he asked.
Longstreth bent a dark glance upon his lieutenant.
”You never can tell what'll come off,” continued Knell. ”I'll do my best.”
”The minute you see Poggin tell him. A job on hand steadies him. And I say again--look to it that nothing happens. Either you or Poggin carry the job through. But I want both of you in it. Break for the hills, and when you get up in the rocks where you can hide your tracks head for Mount Ord. When all's quiet again I'll join you here. That's all. Call in the boys.”
Like a swift shadow and as noiseless Duane stole across the level toward the dark wall of rock. Every nerve was a strung wire. For a little while his mind was cluttered and clogged with whirling thoughts, from which, like a flas.h.i.+ng scroll, unrolled the long, baffling order of action. The game was now in his hands. He must cross Mount Ord at night. The feat was improbable, but it might be done. He must ride into Bradford, forty miles from the foothills before eight o'clock next morning. He must telegraph MacNelly to be in Val Verde on the twenty-fifth. He must ride back to Ord, to intercept Knell, face him be denounced, kill him, and while the iron was hot strike hard to win Poggin's half-won interest as he had wholly won Fletcher's. Failing that last, he must let the outlaws alone to bide their time in Ord, to be free to ride on to their new job in Val Verde. In the mean time he must plan to arrest Longstreth. It was a magnificent outline, incredible, alluring, unfathomable in its nameless certainty. He felt like fate. He seemed to be the iron consequences falling upon these doomed outlaws.
Under the wall the shadows were black, only the tips of trees and crags showing, yet he went straight to the trail. It was merely a grayness between borders of black. He climbed and never stopped. It did not seem steep. His feet might have had eyes. He surmounted the wall, and, looking down into the ebony gulf pierced by one point of light, he lifted a menacing arm and shook it. Then he strode on and did not falter till he reached the huge shelving cliffs. Here he lost the trail; there was none; but he remembered the shapes, the points, the notches of rock above. Before he reached the ruins of splintered ramparts and jumbles of broken walls the moon topped the eastern slope of the mountain, and the mystifying blackness he had dreaded changed to magic silver light.
It seemed as light as day, only soft, mellow, and the air held a transparent sheen. He ran up the bare ridges and down the smooth slopes, and, like a goat, jumped from rock to rock. In this light he knew his way and lost no time looking for a trail. He crossed the divide and then had all downhill before him. Swiftly he descended, almost always sure of his memory of the landmarks. He did not remember having studied them in the ascent, yet here they were, even in changed light, familiar to his sight. What he had once seen was pictured on his mind. And, true as a deer striking for home, he reached the canon where he had left his horse.
Bullet was quickly and easily found. Duane threw on the saddle and pack, cinched them tight, and resumed his descent. The worst was now to come.