raised his voice in a cry of 'Hello, the house!'
In response, a man nearly as broad as he was high, with a huge sombrero tilted back from his round, red face, came waddling out. His mouth split into a wide grin when he saw the visitors.
'Why, Frosty, what's fetched yu here?' he bellowed. 'Light an' rest yore saddles.'
They got down and seated themselves on a bench by the ranch-house door. The cattle, tired by the long tramp, were contentedly cropping the sparse brown herbage. Frosty duly presented his companion. The rancher studied the young man in silence for a moment, and then, with twinlding eyes, remarked:
'Pleased to know yu, Green. Yu got the second best boss in the country; if he don't treat yu right, come an' see the best.'
The Double K puncher chuckled. 'I told yu he was a modest fella, Jim,' he remarked.
'Well, boys, spill the beans, or mebbe yore throats need irrigatin',' Merry said, and when Frosty promptly retorted that they did, he shouted, 'Hi, Chang, there's a couple o' thirsty gents here; fetch a jug o' water.'
For a moment the cowboy's face fell, but resumed its grin when he saw that the water was accompanied by a bottle. They sampled the contents, and then Frosty told his story. Merry spoke only when it was ended.
'Good notion o' yores to bring 'em here. I'm obliged.'
'Warn't mine--Jim thought o' that. He figured that if the rustlers were aimin' to put yu in wrong with Keith, that would crab the deal.'
The fat man nodded. 'I'm obliged to both o' yu. If Green could rope an' throw one o' them cows ...'
He watched narrowly as the puncher stepped into his saddle and walked the horse towards the grazing brutes. At the moment they began to move, the black leapt forward, the rope circled through the air, the loop dropping neatly over the horns of the nearest steer. A flip of the lariat to the right and a swerve to the left by the horse threw the captive on its side and a turn of the rider's wrist sent a couple of coils along the rope which effectually snared the kicking hind legs. 'Knows his job,' the rancher remarked to his companion, as they stepped to where the victim of the cowboy's dexterity awaited them. 'It ain't every wrastler can throw an' hobble from the saddle.'
One glance at the altered brand and Merry's laugh rang out. 'Clever work,' he said. 'Even a tenderfoot could see that cow ain't wearin' its proper monogram, an' that's what they wanted. Tell Ken I'm buyin' these beasts-- that'll save yu the trouble o' drivin' 'em back, an' put things straight.'
Leaving Sudden to release his prisoner, they returned to the ranch-house, for a thrown steer is apt to be resentful and has no fear of a man on foot.
'Hear about the stranger rough-housin' four o' them Hell City outlaws at Black Sam's?' Merry asked, and without waiting for an answer, 'I sent word I'd like to see him, but he'd went, cuss it.'
'Allasame, yu've got yore wish,' Frosty grinned, his eyes on Sudden, who, having deftly freed and coiled his rope, smacked the outraged beast on the rump, and swung round to rejoin them.
'Yu tellin' me that's the fella?' the rancher demanded. 'Well, I'll be tee-totally damned. So Ken got ahead o' me? What was his idea takin' on a stranger?'
'First off, he wanted to thank him, I expect,' the other replied, and told how the trouble at Black Sam's had started.
Merry nodded, and when Sudden returned, said, 'Green, it 'pears I'm more obliged to yu than I guessed. Miss Joan is a particular friend o' mine, an' if I hadn't been born so darned early, I'd be ha'ntin' the Double K pretty persistent. I ain't forgettin' what yu did for her, an' I'll be pleased to see yu here any time, which, o' course, goes for yu, too, Frosty.
Tell Ken to keep me posted. I'll bet that hell-hound in the hills is plannin' some devilment right now.'
On the way back to the Double K, Frosty was inquisitive. 'What d'yu think of him?'
'He keeps good whisky,' was all the answer.
Chapter VII
Hell City was difficult of access. A rough, narrow wagon-way, winding serpent-like among the foothills, ever climbing, and walled in by rock on one side and--towards the end --a precipice on the other, formed the only approach from the direction of Dugout. It terminated in a heavy gate of timber which was always guarded. Within was a kind of street running between vertical cliffs which bulged out and then curved in again, almost meeting. Here was another gate--the western entrance. In the stone walls of this oval an ancient people had fashioned a place to live. The present inhabitants had, in fact, adopted and adapted a Hopi Indian cliff-settlement. There were a few wooden buildings scattered about, among them a store and a saloon, but most of the newcomers were content with the caves they had found there, which required no more than the provision of door or window to make them habitable.
It was outside one of these that Scar and his two companions halted their tired mounts at the end of the ignominious retreat from the scene of the rustling. All wore a look of unease.
'Gotta report, I s'pose,' the leader said.
'You bet,' one of them retorted. 'He'll find out, mebbe knows a'ready, like' he did that Dugout doin'.'
'Who's to tell him?' Scar argued. 'The blasted cowboys won't, the Greasers is cashed, an' Squint must be, or he'd 'a' showed up.'
'He'll git wise, I tell you,' the other persisted, 'an' thenwhat? We've lost out an' there's no sense in makin' it wuss.'
'Daggs is right,' the third man put in. 'We gotta take our medicine.'
'You said it, Coger,' Scar replied. 'Git ready for a stiff dose.'
They followed along a short tunnel in the rock and reached a door on which the leader rapped. It was thrown back by a creature who, in the half-light, appeared to be a mixture of man and beast. Not more than five feet in height, it possessed a barrel of a body set on stunted, inadequate legs, enormous shoulders, and abnormally long arms. The animal resemblance was increased by a face almost covered with shaggy hair from which a large nose protruded.
'Hello, Silver,' Scar greeted. 'We wanta see the Chief.'
The freak's mouth opened in a malicious grin, showing teeth like yellow fangs. 'He's wantin' to see you,' he said.
Apprehension was on their faces as they filed in. It was a spacious room, and despite the bare walls only partly concealed by gaudy Navajo blankets, and the two unglazed holes which served as windows, to them it represented luxury. Rich rugs in which the feet sank dotted the rock floor, costly articles of furniture were spread about, and on a chair covered with a great bearskin sat the owner of all this magnificence.
That he was young--well under thirty--was evident, notwithstanding the slitted, crimson velvet mask which veiled his face down to the supercilious, almost bloodless lips. Though wearing cowboy attire, his silken shirt, goatskin chaps, and high-heeled boots were of the finest quality. A pair of ivory-handled, silver-mounted Colts hung in a cartridge-studded belt round his middle. The men had entered with hats on, but one glance from the cold, washed-out blue eyes led to their furtive removal.
'So you failed again?' The voice was low, devoid of passion, yet menacing. Scar began a mumbling explanation but was not allowed to finish. 'Don't trouble to lie--I know the details. The first time there were four of you; on this occasion, six. How strong do you have to be to beat one man?'
The gibe made them squirm. 'There were two of 'em,' Daggs corrected.
The Chief shrugged disdainfully. 'You were three to one,' he said. 'Where's Squint?'
'Thought you knowed,' Scar said hardily, and got a look which made him regret he had spoken.
'I do know, but I wanted to see what lying excuse you could find for scuttling away like scared cottontails,' was the scathing retort. 'Now listen: this fellow Green is not to be touched till I give permission--I have plans regarding him. You have blundered twice; a third time will be--the last. Silver, the door.'
Like whipped curs they slunk out and repaired to the hovel they shared in common. Here, sitting on his pallet-bed, they found Squint, who cursed them heartily for a set of cowards.
'What th' hell could we do?' Scar excused. 'We was aimin' to swing round an' git behind 'em, but a chipmunk couldn't climb out'n that gully. Why didn't you keep under cover?'
'I did, you fool, but they started bouncin' bullets off'n a rock an' one got me in the thigh,' Squint retorted irritably. 'How d'you git here?' Coger asked.
'Ran into Silver--he toted me on his back. Gawd, he's strong that fella, an' can run an' climb like the bear-cat he is.'
