Part 34 (1/2)

You have it!” and the master ran swiftly after the dog. He followed the latter only for a short distance down the slope and then stood still and whistled. He had to repeat the call before the dog turned and ran back to his master, where he whined eagerly about the man's feet. There was something uncanny and horrible about it; it was as if the dumb beast was asking for a life, and the life of a man. The doctor turned back and walked thoughtfully to the house.

At the door he was met by Kate and a burst of eager questions, and he told, simply, all that he had seen.

”You'll get the details from Mr. Barry,” he concluded.

”I know the details,” answered the girl. ”He's found the trail and he knows where it points, now. And he'll want to be following it before many hours have pa.s.sed. Doctor Byrne, I need you now--terribly. You must convince Dan that if he leaves us it will be a positive danger to Dad.

Can you do that?”

”At least,” said the doctor, ”there will be little deception in that. I will do what I can to persuade him to stay.”

”Then,” she said hurriedly, ”sit here, and I shall sit here. We'll meet Dan together when he comes in.”

They had hardly taken their places when Barry entered, the wolf at his heels; at the door he paused to flash a glance at them and then crossed the room. On the farther side he stopped again.

”I might be tellin' you,” he said in his soft voice, ”that now's Bart's well I got to be travellin' again. I start in the morning.”

The pleading eyes of Kate raised Byrne to his feet.

”My dear Mr. Barry!” he called. The other turned again and waited. ”Do you mean that you will leave us while Mr. c.u.mberland is in this critical condition?”

A shadow crossed the face of Barry.

”I'd stay if I could,” he answered. ”But it ain't possible!”

”What takes you away is your affair, sir,” said the doctor. ”My concern is Mr. c.u.mberland. He is in a very precarious condition. The slightest nerve shock may have--fatal--results.”

Dan Barry sighed.

”Seemed to me,” he answered, ”that he was buckin' up considerable. Don't look so thin, doc.”

”His body may be well enough,” said the doctor calmly, ”but his nerves are wrecked. I am afraid to prophesy the consequences if you leave him.”

It was apparent that a great struggle was going on in Barry. He answered at length: ”How long would I have to stay? One rain could wipe out all the sign and make me like a blind man in the desert. Doc, how long would I have to stay?”

”A few days,” answered Byrne, ”may work wonders with him.”

The other hesitated.

”I'll go up and talk with him,” he said, ”and what he wants I'll do.”

CHAPTER XXIX

TALK

He was long in getting his answer. The hours dragged on slowly for Kate and the doctor, for if Joe c.u.mberland could hold Dan it was everything to the girl, and if Barry left at once there might be some root for the hope which was growing stronger and stronger every day in the heart of Randall Byrne. Before evening a not unwelcome diversion broke the suspense somewhat.

It was the arrival of no less a person than Marshal Jeff Calkins. His shoulders were humped and his short legs bowed from continual riding, and his head was slung far forward on a gaunt neck; so that when he turned his head from one to another in speaking it was with a peculiar pendulum motion. The marshal had a reputation which was strong over three hundred miles and more of a mountain-desert. This was strange, for the marshal was a very talkative man, and talkative men are not popular on the desert; but it has been discovered that on occasion his six-gun could speak as rapidly and much more accurately than his tongue. So Marshal Calkins waxed in favour.

He set the household at ease upon his arrival by announcing that ”they hadn't nothin' for him there.” All he wanted was a place to bunk in, some chow, and a feed for the horse. His trail led past the c.u.mberland Ranch many and many a dreary mile.

The marshal was a politic man, and he had early in life discovered that the best way to get along with any man was to meet him on his own ground. His opening blast of words at Doctor Byrne was a sample of his art.