hesitation, and--the contents of that envelope are my death-warrant also. I felt it only fair to tell you this, marshal, although it may mean refusal.'
His voice shook on the last few words, and there was eagerness in his eyes as he awaited the other's decision.
'I ain't refusin', Mr. Potter,' Green said. 'I'll take yore envelope, an' no one shall see or hear of it again till yu are beyond human hurt. That's what yu want, ain't it?' The banker nodded, a look of relief on his face. The marshal hesitated for a moment and then added, 'Yu got any reason to think yu are in danger?'
'I can't tell you another word, marshal,' the banker replied, as he rose and held out his hand. 'I am deeply obliged to you.'
After the visitor had gone Green looked at the envelope, but it was a plain one and told him nothing. That the maker of this strange request was in deadly fear was very evident, but why? With a shrug of his shoulders he set about the task of concealing the envelope. Wrapped in a piece of an old slicker, he buried it beneath his bed, stamping the earth flat again to remove any signs of disturbance.
'If what Potter says is right it'll be like sleepin' over a keg o' giant powder,' he reflected grimly. 'Well, I reckon that won't ruin my rest anyways.'
* * *
Andy Bordene rode into Lawless with a light heart and let out a whoop of delight when he saw the marshal and his deputy talking to Raven just outside the bank. Leaping down, he greeted the officers joyously, but his manner towards the saloonkeeper was more distant.
''Lo, Andy, so yu fetched 'em through this time?' Green said.
'Yu betcha--no trouble a-tall,' the young man replied. 'An' I sold well too; I got over thirty thousand in my clothes an' I'm a-goin' to talk turkey to Potter an' get my ranch back right now.'
'Good for yu,' the marshal said. 'No time like--hell! here comes a gent in a hurry.'
At the eastern end of the street, a buckboard, drawn by two wild-eyed, maddened ponies rocketed into view. The driver, a short and very fat man, was urging his team both with tongue and whip to greater efforts, despite the fact that nearly every jolt of the swaying, lurching vehicle threated to fling him into the rutty road. Andy needed only one look.
'I'm an Injun if it ain't Reub Sarel,' he explained. 'What's broke loose now?'
With a string of expletives which would have aroused the envy of even a talented mule-skinner the driver of the buck-board flung his weight on the lines and dragged the ponies to a standstill by main force. His appearance bore testimony to the urgency of his errand. Coatless, hatless, shirt torn open at the throat, his fleshy face grimed with dust and sweat, he was hardly to be recognized as the indolent manager of the Double S. Flinging down reins and whip, he fell rather than stepped out of the conveyance, gulped once, and then said huskily:
'Marshal, they got Tonia. She went for a ride yestiddy an' didn't come home. I sent the boys out to comb the country, an' this mornin' early they found her hoss--shot. There warn't no sign of her. I left the boys searchin' an' come for help. I'm guessin' that damned Greaser has nabbed her.'
'By God! if Moraga has dared to lay a finger on her I'll tear him in strips,' Andy swore. 'Guns an' hosses, marshal; we'll get that coyote if we have to foller him clear across Mexico.'
Green was watching Raven. At the first mention of the Mexican the man's sallow face had gone paler and his little black eyes had gleamed with sudden anger. Now he turned to the officer and spoke, his voice charged with venom:
'If it's Moraga, get him, marshal,' he rasped. 'Spare no effort or expense. I'd come with yu, but I'm no good with a gun, I'd only be a hindrance. Kill the dirty cur. Bring the girl back an' yu can name yore own reward. Sabe?'
There was no mistaking his sincerity. For some reason which the marshal could not fathom the disappearance of Tonia had stirred unsuspected depths in the saloon-keeper.
'We'll find her,' Green said, and turned to Bordene. 'Better hurry up yore business with Potter.'
'That must wait,' the rancher replied. 'I'll leave the coin with him an' settle when I come back. Tonia--'
He broke off and darted into the bank. The marshal saw the half-breed's narrowed eyes regarding him curiously as he went. Stark hatred, cunning, and desperate design might all have been read in that look had Green possessed the key. But he was too concerned with the business in hand to give it more than a passing thought.
No time was wasted. Andy, having deposited his money, set out at once for the Box B to collect some of his riders. They were to meet at the Double S, for which ranch the marshal, Pete, and the Indian started soon after. Green had declined to take men from the town.
'It's the job o' them two ranchers, an' I reckon they can handle it,' he pointed out. 'We don't want no army.'
Seth Raven had a last word. 'What I said goes, Green,' he reminded. 'An' don't make no mistake this time. If yu don't wanta kill the damn yellow thief yoreself, let yore Injun do it.'
'We'll get him,' the officer promised, inwardly marvelling at the vindictive emphasis on the last words.
They were met at the Double S by a tall, thin, middle-aged cowboy who had just ridden in from the other direction. This was Renton, the foreman, and his frowning, worried features lighted up when he saw them.
'Durn glad yu've come, marshal,' he said, and his tone showed relief. 'Thisyer business has shore got me bothered. Grub's 'bout ready; we can talk as we eat.'
He had little more to tell them, save that his riders were still searching the range in all directions. 'But that ain't no good,' he admitted. 'My hunch is she's been carried off, an' our on'y play is to foller, if we can strike an' keep the trail.'
A hail from outside proclaimed the arrival of the Box B contingent, which consisted of Bordene, Rusty, and two other riders.
In less than an hour Renton had picked his men, necessaries were packed, and the party set out for the spot where the dead horse had been found. This proved to be the mouth of a shallow arroyo about six miles from the ranch and somewhat south of the direct line to the Box B. Here the marshal called a halt.
'Better let the Injun have a clear field,' he said, and nodded to Black Feather.
The redskin slid from his saddle and approached the carcass, or what the buzzards had left of it, walking slowly in a half-crouch, his keen eyes scanning every inch of the ground. They saw him circle round it and then head for a mass of brush some thirty yards distant. Behind this he vanished for several moments and then came striding back. His low, throaty words were addressed to the marshal:
'Four Mexican fellas wait there long time,' he said, pointing to the brush. 'Girl ride by, see them, an' start run. One fella him shoot hoss an' they grab girl.' He waved to the south. 'Go that way. One hoss, two riders.'
The marshal nodded comprehendingly.
'Guess he's got the straight of it,' he commented. 'The sooner we get on their trail the better. Go ahead, Black Feather; it's El Diablo we're after.'
The redskin's black eyes flamed for an instant at the name, but that was his sole sign of emotion. Leaping into his saddle, he led the way to the Border. The abductors had apparently made no attempt to hide their trail, and whenever they crossed a patch of sand the riders could see, from the deeper indentation?, that one of the horses-- as the Indian had said--was carrying a double burden.
'They got too big a start for us to catch 'em up,' Andy remarked. 'We'll have to smoke 'em outa their hole.'
'Yeah,' the marshal agreed, and then, with a covert glance at his companion, 'Funny Raven should get so hot under the collar; I figured the Greaser a friend o' his.'
'I'm gettin' new ideas 'bout Raven,' Andy said darkly, and the impatience of youth flamed up, 'Hell! why didn't yu blow that damned Greaser four ways, Jim?'
'Nobody sorrier than I am, Andy,' Green assured him. 'Black Feather will search him out, yu betcha; he's got a debt to pay too.'
Mile after mile they pressed steadily on, strung out in a double line behind the guide. Once clear of the open range, they dived into the wilder country which lay between them and the Border. Here the pace slackened, for deep gulches and ravines, thick tangles of thorny scrub, hills along the sides of which they wound on ledges barely wide enough for one rider, all had to be faced and overcome. So that night was at hand by the time they reached the sluggish stream which here marked the northern limit of Mexico. Under an overhanging rock near the bank they
