warm.' Another half-mile and they swung south, leaving the rutted wagon-track and picking a way through brush big enough to hide them. Two hours passed before they reached a wooded slope which afforded a view of the country, an undulating, scrub-dotted expanse which they knew must be part of the Bar O range, though no cattle were visible.
Westward, were ridges and gullies, and as these offered excellent cover, they decided to make for them. Skirting the plain, they were proceeding along the far slope of a brush-clad rib of rock when a rifle cracked and a bullet zipped through the crown of Dave's Stetson. Out of their saddles instantly, they trailed the reins, and crawled to the top of the rib. Thinning smoke from a clump of brush some threehundred yards distant told them whence the shot had come, but there was no sign of the man who fired it.
'Lie low,' Sudden advised. 'He may think he got yu an' show hisself. Might be one o' the Bar O--I'll bet their system just now is shoot first an' investigate after.' Hats discarded, prone on their bellies, cheeks cuddling rifle- stocks, they waited. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes ticked slowly by and nothing happened. Dave got restive.
'This hlame' sun is just naturally scorchin' my scalp,' he grumbled. 'I reckon he's went.' He reached for the hat lying behind him and immediately two reports came from the clump, the leaden messengers humming past their ears. They returned the fire, aiming at the smoke-jets.
'A pair of 'em,' the marshal commented. 'Guess they ain't Owen's men.' Another period of quiet ensued, and the marshal used it to take a furtive scrutiny of their surroundings. This gave him an idea.
'Stay an' keep 'em interested. I'm goin' to try an' get another angle on 'em. If yu fire, make it two quick shots so's they'll figure we're both here.'
'Right, but don't take chances; these hombres ain't usin' guns for the first time,' Dave warned.
Sudden slid backwards down the slope and, leading his horse, followed the bend of it. He had not gone far when four shots rang out, the last two in rapid succession. Dave was right. Presently he paused, crept up the incline on hands and knees, and took a peep between two large stones. As he had suspected, the brush rampart behind which the unknown marksmen were concealed was much thinner on this side, and he could see the gleam of a levelled gun-barrel. He fired, aiming where he judged the holder should be, and a dark form showed itself and vanished before he could press the trigger again. A moment later, two horsemen burst into the open, and, flattened over the necks of their mounts, raced for the nearest gully. Sudden's rifle spoke again and one of the animals went down, throwing its rider heavily. The other man, without even a backward glance, gained cover. By the time Sudden reached the fellow who had fallen, Dave joined him.
'So yu nailed one,' he said.
'He's on'y stunned--the hoss got the lead. Take charge of him. I'm goin' after his mate.' He had marked down the spot where the fugitive had disappeared, and for a little while, hoofprints--the deep ones of urgent haste--helped him, and then, as he came on harder ground, a dangling, freshly-broken branch pointed the way. But no more of these tell-tale signs presented themselves, until, circling round, he found the prints again, only to lose them on the bank of a creek, thickly fringed with willow and cottonwood.
Arguing that the man would go westwards, he followed the stream in that direction, and was presently confronted by an insurmountable barrier, a wall of rock nearly thirty feet in height, over which the water cascaded in a broad sheet which the sun turned to molten silver. Trees hemmed in the fall, and for some distance from the wall, the ground was weathered stone, a surface upon which to search for tracks could only be a waste of time. In ordinary circumstances, the marshal would have admired the natural beauty of the spot, but now he surveyed it with disgust.
'Hang the luck,' he muttered. 'A cat couldn't climb up there, an' it's a hell of long way round, seemin'ly. Mebbe we can persuade the other jasper to talk.' Convinced that he could do no more, he returned to Dave. The prisoner, who had regained consciousness, was squatting on the ground, weaponless, his elbows neatly trussed with his own rope.
'Most unsocial beggar I ever met up with,' the deputy remarked. 'Won't give no name, so I've christened him Pock-mark.' His hoss is unbranded, an' there's nothin' suspicious 'bout him 'cept his looks an'--this.'
'A straight-iron, huh?' the marshal said. 'Well, that's enough to hang him. Yu'd best find yore tongue, fella.'
'What right you got to down my bronc an' tie me up?' the stranger demanded.
Sudden flipped open his vest, disclosing the badge. 'Plenty,' he replied. ' 'Specially as yu opened the ball by tryin' to bump us off. What's yore business around here?' Receiving no reply, he added, 'P'r'aps the Bar O can loosen your lips.' Fear flickered in the sullen eyes, but the said lips were only clamped the tighter.
'Why bother Owen when there's a mort o' good trees right here?' Dave asked, with studied callousness. 'S'pose we feed an' think it over?' Sitting a little apart, so that their conversation could not be heard, they began the meal the Widow had provided. The prisoner watched enviously.
'Don't I eat?' he asked querulously.
'Yu gotta find another use for yore mouth first,' the marshal replied.
'An' remember that dyin' on an empty stomach is a mighty dangerous thing to do,' Dave supplemented.
His solicitude earned him only a scowl. They finished eating, smoked a cigarette, and made a start, the prisoner walking between the riders. The sun's rays had now become shafts of fire, and since their way led across the open range, there was no respite for man or beast. Mile after mile through the blinding heat the man on foot stumbled doggedly until they had covered two-thirds of the journey, and then he dropped like a stone.
'I'm all in,' he gasped, through parched, cracked lips. 'Have a swig at this,' Dave said, passing his water- bottle.
The sufferer drank eagerly, and after sitting for a while, stood up. Rustler or no, he was possessed of a stubborn determination, and Sudden--who had forced this ordeal upon him in the hope of breaking down his obstinacy--began to doubt its success. Fists and teeth clenched, eyes half-shut, and body limp with fatigue, the tortured man dragged one blistered foot after the other until at length the Bar O building came in sight. A hail brought the owner, Reddy, and some of the outfit.
''Lo, marshal, what you got there?' Owen asked.
Sudden explained, and the rancher's face grew dark. 'Good,' he said, and turned to the prisoner. 'What you gotta say?'
'Nothin'.'
'Right. You've till sunrise; if you ain't opened up hy then, you swing. Lock him up, Reddy.'
'Yu think he'll squeal?' Sudden asked. 'That tramp would 'a' busted the nerve o' most; he's tough.'
'A hemp rope is tougher,' the rancher replied. 'Pity the other got away.'
'He certainly chose the right place,' the marshal admitted, and described it.
'Ah, the Silver Mane fall, plenty o' hidin' there.'
'He would 'a' tried to pot me.'
'That's so. Well, I dunno how he got clear; that barrier --which we call The Step--runs for a mile or more each side o' the stream, an' she's straight up, 'cept at the south end.'
'What's back of it?'
'Sort of plateau, with some biggish cracks. The Step is my western boundary; past it is Dumh-bell range, but they don't use it, the feed bein' poor.' When they got up to go, the cattleman pressed them to stay the night, but Sudden shook his head.
'Gotta make a show o' earnin' our pay,' he smiled.
On the way back, the marshal was unusually silent. In truth, his mind was far away on the Mexican Border. There, too, what appeared to be a simple case of cattle-rustling, had uncovered a deep-laid plot to steal a range, and he was wondering ...
Chapter IX
THE marshal and his assistant were enjoying an after-breakfast smoke when a pony scuttered to a stop outside and the Bar O foreman strode in. He had not shaved, and his customary cheerful expression was missing. Dropping into a seat, he began to construct a cigarette.
'He's gone,' he announced, and added a fervent wish as to the delinquent's ultimate destination. 'Helped hisself to a hoss--one o' my string, blister his hide.'
'But ' both the hearers began.
'Listen,' he interrupted. 'I left him tied as he was, locked in a cabin with a window less'n a foot square.
