instinct alert and working full-time, Danny soon discovered the cause of the noise. Dark shapes moved out of the clump of scrub oaks from which Stocker and Schatz had emerged. Even as Danny saw the shapes, guns bellowed from them and muzzle-blasts flared in the darkness—but not aimed in his direction.
“Hit the ground, Tommy!” Danny yelled, throwing two shots at the shapes and changing his position as he fired.
Showing remarkable presence of mind considering it to be his first involvement in a corpse-and-cartridge affair, Tommy left his saddle and lit down on the ground. Although his horse spooked, it did not go far with the reins trailing but came to a halt a couple of hundred yards away. Crouching behind a black mound, Tommy raised his Colt. Then he realized that the hump hiding him was in reality Schatz’s body. The man lay without a move.
“If you shoot, Tommy,” Danny called, rolling over as he spoke and sending another shot at the approaching men, “move straight after it.”
Before Tommy could profit by Danny’s advice, they heard more hooves thudding from the direction of Caspar City. So did their attackers. Coming to a halt, the Stocker men read danger in the approaching riders, for they knew one set of hooves could not make so much noise.
“Get out of here!” yelled a voice.
Not that the speaker needed to give any warning. Even before he yelled out his sage advice, the others had turned and started to run back in the direction from which they came. In his excitement Tommy thumbed off two shots, but failed to make a hit.
Stocker saw his hired help take a Mexican stand-off and painfully dragged himself on to his hands and knees after flattening down to allow his men to shoot without fear of hitting him. Holding his bullet-busted shoulder with his left hand, the rancher prepared to make a dash for safety.
“Hold it right there, Stocker!” Danny barked, coming to his feet and lining the Army Colt. “I won’t tell you twice!”
Knowing that nobody would blame a Texas Ranger for shooting down a cow thief, and not being sure whether Danny would carry out the threat or not Stocker came to a halt. Crashes and the snorting grunts of disturbed horses told the rancher that his men were going fast and that he had no hope of escape.
“All right,” he said. “I’m done.”
“Danny!” yelled a voice from the approaching party. “It’s the Rafter O!”
“Come ahead,” Danny replied.
Bringing his horse to a halt, Stirton pointed off to where the fleeing Stocker hands could be heard. “Want for us to take after them?”
“Nope. They’ll not be back,” Danny answered. “How’d you get here just at the right time?”
“That gal Marty told us you was a Ranger and likely to need help. Say, she reckons she’s Calamity Jane.”
“Don’t you going tell nobody now,” grinned Danny. “But she is Calamity Jane.” He looked around then went on, “Say where is she now?”
“Took off after one of the bunch who cut away across the range. Sent us on in to help you.”
“Stay on here and tend to Stocker, Wally. I’ll go look for her.”
“Is Stocker in on this stealing?” growled the rancher, looking at the suddenly scared, wounded man.
“Up to his dirty li’l neck,” replied Danny.
“Then we’ll hold him for you,” Stirton promised.
Something in the rancher’s voice brought Danny to a halt as he started to turn away from Stirton.
“I want him alive when I get back,” Danny warned. “You hear me?”
“Danged if you aint’ a spoilsport,” grunted Stirton. “He’ll be alive and kicking when you come back.”
Turning, Danny walked to the waiting
“He’s done,” said the hand with the lantern. “Hit straight between his two eyes. Who got him, Tommy?”
“Let’s ride, Tommy,” Danny put in before the youngster could answer.
Tommy raised no argument. One of the Rafter O hands had collected his horse and he swung into the saddle.
“I’ll tend to things here, Ranger,” Stirton called. “Need any of my boys?”
“Reckon me and Tommy ought to be enough,” Danny replied. “Fix Stocker’s wing and put out some guards in case his boys come back to try and pry him free.”
For a time Danny and Tommy rode in silence. Danny looked sideways at Tommy and guessed how the youngster must feel.
“It’s never easy, killing a man, Tommy,” he said.
“It sure ain’t,” agreed Tommy. “I felt like fetching up, only I didn’t want Rafter O to see me do it.”
“There’s no shame in it. Only remember this. It was him or you. He sure as hell aimed to kill you and you’d every right to stop him any way you could.”
“Yeah,” answered Tommy and gave a shuddering sigh. Then he threw off the feeling of nausea. “Say, how do we find Calamity?”
“Just ride on for a spell, then stop and listen some.”
Following Danny’s plan, they rode on for about half a mile before halting their horses and sitting in silence. Only the ordinary night noises came to their ears and after a few seconds Danny started his
“Which’s the shortest way back to town, Tommy?” he asked.
“Over that ways,” Tommy answered, pointing to the right.
Swinging their horses in the desired direction, the two young men continued their ride. Ten minutes passed and Danny brought his
“What the hell?” Tommy asked, listening to the screams, squeals and scuffling noises that came faintly to their ears.
“Reckon ole Calam done caught up with Ella Watson and just couldn’t resist temptation,” Danny replied. “Let’s go take a look.”
When Ella Watson saw the approaching Rafter O hands even though she did not recognize them as such, she knew her reign as boss of the Caspar County cow thieves had come to an end. From the number of shots and the shouted conversation between Danny Forgrave—or Fog, whichever it might be—and Stocker, she figured that the attempt at killing the Ranger had failed. So she decided to pull out, make a fast ride to town, empty her safe and be well clear of Caspar before the posse could return with news of Stocker’s capture.
A yell from the posse told Ella she had been seen and one of the riders spun out of the group to give chase. Ella urged her horse to a gallop, yet she doubted if the animal could outrun her pursuer’s mount. Hearing the yell Stirton let to warn Danny of his coming, Ella knew she did not have a chance in a race. The Rafter O specialized in breeding good horses, while her own mount had been selected more for its gentle qualities and steadiness rather than speed.
After half a mile of riding Ella swung her mount in the direction of the distant town and safety. Although still ahead of her pursuer, she figured it would not be long before they came together. Yet she did not wish to kill the one following. With Gooch it had been different. Then she fled before a wanton murderous bounty hunter and her life would have been forfeit if she fell into his hands. So she decided to use her trick merely to draw her pursuer in close. Then she would take his horse, leaving him afoot and unable to interfere, ride relay with it and her mount, make better time to town and have a longer start on the posse.
Having made her decision, Ella unbuttoned the shirt and pulled it open to expose her naked breasts. With bait like that any cowhand would walk straight into her trap and fall easy prey to her.
Twisting around in her saddle, Ella glanced back at the other rider. At the distance separating them she could not distinguish the other, or recognize him. It was not Danny For—Fog, of that she felt sure. However, he might prove too smart to fall for her trick. Probably the rider was one of Stirton’s younger hands trying to make a name for himself. If so, he ought to be easy to handle.
Ella’s horse slid down a gentle slope and as it reached the open ground at the bottom she reined it in. Before
