struck a match, an' I was kneelin' on the edge of a big crack, wide--an' deep? well, I'd 'a' figured it dropped clear to hell if I hadn't heard runnin' water below.'
His ghastly effort to be facetious drew no smile from his audience.
'What do you suppose happened?' Garstone asked sharply. 'I guess Green an' the gal got catched in the trap, an pore of Rat blundered in after 'em.'
Garstone's face showed no emotion. 'We'll look at this place,' he said.
'Turn me loose,' Dan pleaded. 'I give you my word I won't try anythin'--I just wanta help.'
'No doubt--help yourself,' was the sneering reply. 'Flint, you and Lake keep an eye on the prisoners, see that they don't `try anything.' You come with me, Bundy.'
Armed with lights, the pair traversed the tunnel and reached the chasm. The foreman lowered his torch and pointed to some small footprints.
'She got as far as this, anyway,' he remarked. 'Obviously,' Garstone agreed curtly.
He stepped to the brink of the rift and stood peering down into the abysmal depths, listening to the murmur of the subterranean river hundreds of feet below. Callous as he was, the vision of Beth, young, beautiful, instinct with life, hurtling to a dreadful death in the darkness chilled him. But the feeling soon passed; there were many other women in the world, and ere long, his crafty brain was considering how he might turn even this tragedy to his advantage.
'It would seem that Flint was right,' he said. 'A fine athlete could get over, if he knew the danger was there, but with the girl ...' He shook his head to complete the sentence. 'Bad news for Zeb; she was his only relative.'
'If he cashes, who gits the Wagon-wheel?' Bundy enquired. 'I have an interest in it,' Garstone told him. 'I shall arrange with the bank to take over the ranch.'
'Trenton ain't gone yet,' was the sour reminder.
'True, but I do not think he will recover.'
'Well, if he don't, an' you git the Wagon-wheel for the mortgage on it, you'll owe me somethin',' the foreman said brazenlyt
'Yes, I shall owe you a lot, Bundy, and I always pay my debts,' Garstone replied. 'Singular spot this; I should say that anyone so unfortunate as to fall in there, would never be seen again, alive or dead. Well, we can do nothing; let's get back.'
The foreman was more than willing; his companion's tone made him uncomfortable. One who accepted the tragic loss of his lady-love so cold-bloodedly would have little hesitation in sending a man he feared to keep her company. Garstone, physically, was more than his match if it came to a tussle. So, until they were well away from that gaping black gulf, Bundy carried his torch in the left hand, keeping his right close to his gun.
The cave was as they had left it, save that the early light of day was stealing in. Flint and Lake were busy at the fire, preparing breakfast. The captives sat or lay in a group apart. Garstone went to inspect them, something in the manner of a conqueror. The sentries had been brought in.
'Sorry to find you in such bad company, Malachi,' he said.
'I couldn't prevent you and your friends, coming,' the doctor retorted. 'Did you discover anything about Miss Trenton?'
'I am afraid there is no hope,' Garstone said. 'I imagine that, fleeing down the tunnel in a distraught state of mind, the approach of Green--also running away, these gunmen are all cowards at heart--would seem like pursuit and hasten herdestruction. He also appears to have perished, for which I am sorry; a rope would have been a more fitting end.'
'You quite shore they weren't killed by yore toughs, an' that Flint's yarn isn't just a cover-up?' Dan asked, adding with a reckless disregard of the fact that the man was one of his gaolers, 'Lyin' is the thing Flint does best.'' The big man turned away without answering, and went to where Trenton was lying. Dan got a poisonous glare from the receiver of his compliment, but that did not worry him. The bottom had dropped out of his world, and though he tried to persuade himself this was due to the loss of his friend and ranch, he knew it was not so; a dark-eyed slip of a girl, with an oval, slightly tanned face, and firm lips which could smile so sweetly, meant more than all. He had striven to erect a barrier between them, and, so far as he was concerned, had failed. And now, Death had done a better job. He could see that slender young body, battered and broken, the plaything of some rough torrent in the dark depths of the earth. He closed his eyes in an effort to shut out the picture, and groaned. 'Hurt, Dan?' Malachi whispered.
'Yeah, but it's somethin' you can't cure, Phil.'
The doctor understood. 'Don't give up hope yet,' he consoled. 'I've a lot of faith in Green.'
'That's th' talk, Doc,' Yorky chipped in. He was next the rancher. 'Jim'll show up--he'd git outa hell if th' lid was on. Me? I'm awright; th' big stiff knocked me cold, that's all. One day he'll come up agin a feller his own size an' run like a scalded cat.'
Garstone, who had returned in time to hear this unsolicited testimonial, kicked the author of it savagely in the ribs. 'Keep your dirty tongue still, you city vermin,' he flared, and to Malachi, 'I am releasing you to nurse Trenton. Come over now, I don't like the look of him.' He cut the doctor's bonds, and added, 'If you take any other advantage of your freedom, you'll be shot.'
Malachi's eyes were blazing. 'Garstone, if ever I have the pleasure of performing an operation upon you, I shall forget my profession and do the world a service,' he said. 'Meaning you'd murder me, eh?'
'Yes, but I should call it an `execution.' '
Garstone's laugh was ugly. 'No wonder Zeb is not getting better,' he fleered.
The wounded man was motionless, eyes closedt The doctor turned down the blankets, examined the wrappings, and felt the pulse.
'He's no worse,' was his decision.
'But he hasn't got his sense back,' Garstone expostulated. 'He opened his eyes just now and didn't know me.'
'Which might indicate that he had,' Malachi said caustically. 'I am doing all I can to remedy your foolish blunder--if it was one.'
'What the devil do you mean by that?' Garstone demanded. 'By God, I'll--
'you know what I mean, and your threats don't frighten or interest me. The Almighty gave you a fine big body, and by a mischance put into it the soul of a louse.'
Turning on his heel, he walked back to his companions, leaving the Easterner white with fury, and yet a little afraid of this quiet-spoken, acid-tongued man who defied him so openly. The fellow knew too much, and must be dealt with. The approach of Bundy gave him an idea.
'Just been talking to Malachi,' he remarked carelessly. 'He seems to think his patient will pull through.'
'Good,' the foreman replied, trying to speak as though he meant it. 'I hope he's right.'
'You have every reason to, for if Trenton doesn't recover it becomes murder, and as the doctor knows who fired the shot, his evidence would be--awkward.'
Both fear and suspicion were in the look Bundy darted at the speaker.'How in hell--?' he began.
'I didn't tell him, my friend,' Garstone interposed. 'These scientific gentry have their methods, and the nature of a wound may tell them much. Did you have anything to say to me?'
'The boys wanta know when we start searchin' out the gold.'
Garstone did not reply at once; recent developments had altered the situation. Now that he found himself practically sole possessor of the secret, he was not eager to unearth the booty. His cunning brain had been busy with the idea of securing the whole of it for himself, but he could see no wayno safe way. He had told his followers that he could find it, and if he did not .... So he replied jovially:
'No time like the present, there's plenty of light now. Get the men and the tools.'
Walking to the centre of the cave, he gazed up at the dark, domed roof from which hung scores of stalactites, like gigantic icicles their points sheathed in steel by the incoming daylight. They were of varying size, and one-- almost in the middle--exceeded the others in girth and length.
'The finger of the ages, indeed,' he mused. 'Strange; nature toils for millions of years to make this marvel, and a gambler uses it to mark his hoard--I hope.' And as the men came up, 'We'll try here.'
Flint, stepping forward with his pick, glanced up. 'Hope the shock won't shake that damn spike down on me,' he grinned.
