'If they have rifles, they can keep us from getting close,' Mike said. 'Unless we barge ahead anyhow.'
'Any hill road leading to the ranch from the rear?' Arnold inquired.
'Not one we can strike from here.' Wall grinned. 'Only thing to do is pound right up the hill — and pray.'
They decided to stop for a few moments at the brow of the mesa on which the ranch house stood and let Nuney pump the rifle as fast as he could, to give the impression that several weapons were in action, after which they would make a run in the car for the house.
As soon as they reached the paved valley road, Mike put his foot down and set the station wagon racing. They were doing better than ninety when they swept past a wagon loaded with hay. Just beyond a curve an old Mexican driving a ramshackle outfit drew aside hurriedly to let the car thunder past. 'Mother of God!' he cried in Spanish, and wondered what kind of liquor the mad Americanos had been drinking.
Mike slackened to take the side road for the Seven Up and Down. A man on horseback drew aside to miss being hit. Nuney recognized him, a boy named Rusty Peters who worked for Black.
On the brow of the mesa a stone's throw from the house, Mike braked. The crack of a gun sounded. It came from a front window of the house. A man crouched back of the tool shed answered it. Around the corner of the stable the head of Cash Polk craned to check up the situation. Nuney took a quick shot at it. The head was hurriedly withdrawn.
'It's Doc back of the shed,' Vallejo said.
Nuney pumped two bullets at the man. He gave a yelp and started to run, disappearing back of the building.
A moment later he could be seen running for the stable. From the way he moved, it was plain he had been hit. Nuney raised his rifle. Vallejo leaned forward, his shoulder jolting against his friend's elbow. The shot went wild. Bill Nuney grinned. He had not intended to kill Doc, though if his rifle had covered Brick Fenwick, he would not have hesitated an instant.
Mike threw in the clutch and took the car to the house, stopping in front of the porch. Casey opened the door, and they piled out of the station wagon into the living room. Blithely Hal gave them the old Spanish welcome.
'
He was very glad, indeed, to see them. Never had the lean brown faces of these hard, tough men looked better to him.
Over his shoulder Dale's voice said quietly, 'Mr. Stevens has taken the words out of my mouth, gentlemen.'
Hal turned, embarrassed. He had not known she had come up from the basement. His greeting had been a little unfortunate, since it was her place and not his to tell them this was their home.
'We're right glad to see you, boys,' Casey said. 'Quite a bit of excitement on the Soledad today. Brick Fenwick pretty nearly sent Mr. Stevens over the hill.'
Hal corrected the statement with a smile. 'I'm a long way from being a dead man, though Brick's intentions were good. A scratch.'
'Where you been these last few days, Hal?' asked Wall. 'Yore friends would feel better if you would leave an address when you disappear.'
'Amen to that,' agreed Arnold. 'Let's hear your story.'
'I went into the hills to talk Mullins into surrendering,' Hal explained. 'We had some trouble getting down here, but Miss Lovell and Casey fixed that up. So here we are.'
'When did Brick plug you?' inquired Mike.
'About a half an hour ago,' Dale answered. 'He was here talking peace terms and started shooting as he was leaving.'
Through the open door the sound of horses' hoofs came down the wind. 'Some gents pulling their freight,' announced Nuney from the window where he was posted. 'They're riding back into the hills and not down into the valley.'
'We can run the station wagon up far as the gap and head them off maybe,' Wall suggested.
'So we can, if we get going now,' Hal agreed. 'But we'll have to hurry.' He started for the door.
'Hold on a minute,' Arnold interposed. 'You're staying here. A doctor has to look at your wound.'
A chorus of assent drowned Hal's remonstrance. He had done enough. They would carry on while he rested. This avalanche of public opinion proved too much for him. He had to yield to it.
'You'd better send for a nurse too,' he said sarcastically.
'Aren't you satisfied with the one you have?' Arnold asked; with a glance at Dale.
'She is decorative and efficient,' Hal agreed.
'But bossy,' Dale added. 'Mr. Stevens thinks a woman ought to know her place and keep it. He frequently tells me so.'
It was decided that two men should stay on the ranch with Hal and the women. Bill Nuney and Carlos Vallejo were picked, chiefly because the others thought it might be embarrassing for them to join in an attack on their former companions. The sheriff's posse was to follow and meet the others at Paddy Ryan's mine. Dale agreed to join Susie in cooking food for the men, to be sent up later either by Elbert or one of the ranch hands.
In the station wagon Casey, Mike, Wall, and Arnold took the road that wound through the foothills toward the notch in the range beyond the barrancas back of the Seven Up and Down. They saw nothing of the outlaws, who were not following the trace, but cutting directly across the hills. Their plan was to hold the ridge and drive Black's men back if possible. With luck the fellows might be caught between two fires, assuming that the sheriff's men arrived in time to join in the battle before they escaped.
THE UNEXPECTED arrival of the M K men in the station wagon was a blow to the outlaws. Since the news was out that the hill rustlers were in the valley and on the prod, others would presently pour in to wipe them out Already Doc was wounded. They had better get away before it was too late.
'I'm lightin' outa here now,' Cash Polk said. 'Mighty soon this place will be a hornets' nest.'
'You're easy scared, Cash,' Brick Fenwick jeered.
The boy killer was in a sullen and dangerous mood. He wanted to stay and finish this job. Though he had wounded Stevens, he felt pretty sure the cattleman was not badly hurt. Yet he knew Polk was right. It was time to be going.
'We can't ride down into the valley now,' Frawley snapped. 'Before we reached the hills we would be cut off sure.'
That was very likely. No doubt men were already busy at telephones stirring up their neighbors for the man hunt. To reach the Rabbit Ear country by way of the hill notch back of the Seven Up would necessitate circuitous travel over very rough country, but it was the alternative offering the better chance of safety.
They helped Doc to the saddle, opened the gate into the west pasture, and put their horses to a canter. Fenwick led the way and Doc brought up the rear. The wound of the little rustler was paining him a great deal and the jolting of the cowpony kept his side bleeding. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, but he clamped his teeth to stick it. He leaned forward and clung to the horn of the saddle.
Polk cut across to ride beside him. 'How you doing, Doc?' he asked.
The little man said, 'Fine.'
'Once we reach the hills we can hole-up somewhere and fix you up.'
'Y'betcha,' Doc grunted, jaws set.
'Soon as we get through Paddy's Notch we'll be okey,' Polk went on. 'It's not more than four-five miles.'
They wound in and out among the hills, bearing to the right. Frawley and Fenwick were far ahead of the other two. Polk called to them two or three times, but they paid no attention. They were looking after themselves.
'Go ahead and join those yellow coyotes, Cash,' advised Doc. 'Probably I won't make it anyhow.'
Polk had an urgent desire to do just that. Fear was riding his shoulders now. But Doc was his neighbor. They had always been friendly and stood together. He could not ride away and leave him. Weakly he shook a fist at those in front and cursed them bitterly. It was his opinion that after Fenwick and Frawley were through the notch, neither of them would wait for their lagging companions.
