have better luck than that hell-hound, yore brother, huh? Well, yu won't; not a cent's wuth.'
'Yu oughta know that him an' me ain't likely to be workin' together,' the boy said. 'I've come to turn yu loose.'
California peered at him suspiciously. 'Sounds good, but what's yore price? The Black Burdettes do nothin' for nothin'.'
Luce shrugged his shoulders. 'Yo're a grateful cuss, ain't yu?' he said, as he severed the old man's bonds. 'I'm givin' yu yore freedom, an' there's no strings tied to it.'
The prospector stretched his stiffened limbs and swore at the pain the movement provoked. Then he staggered weakly to the door and peeped out.
'Let's beat it--that devil may come back for somethin',' he urged. Brave enough when his position appeared hopeless, his keyed-up nerves gave way when escape became possible, and he was in a twitter to be gone. 'Ain't got a chaw o' tobacker, I s'pose? It stays the stummick; I done forgit when I eat last.'
'Which I'm shorely dumb--brought this a-purpose,' Luce replied.
The old man yelped when he saw the thick bacon sandwich, and bit into it like a famished dog, and the flask of whisky which followed it made his eyes glisten. 'Boy, yo're savin' my life a second time,' he mumbled, 'but let's git; I can tackle this on the way.'
They went out and Luce drove the staple back into its place. 'They'll wonder how yu got clear; there ain't but one key to that lock an' it's in King's pocket right now,' he chuckled. 'The next point is, where d'yu want to go? Yu'll have to lie mighty low or they'll nab yu again.'
The food and drink had put new energy into Cal's old but tough carcasse. He was stepping along spryly enough now, and his cunning brain was busy. When they reached the spot where Luce had left Silver, his plans were made.
'Git me to my shack, where I can rustle some grub an'--such-like,' he requested. 'I knows a place to hide out; I aim to be missin' a spell yet.'
Luce having no better plan, they set out, Silver making light of a double burden. The sun had dropped over the rim of the world, dusk had deepened into dark, and stars were peeping out of a velvety sky when they reached the hut on Old Stormy. The burro raised its voice in welcome from the corral but otherwise the place was deserted. The prospector lit the stump of a candle, saw the ravaged cache, and danced with rage.
'Hell blister their lousy hides, they've took it, an' the dust as well,' he raved.
Luce stemmed the stream of profanity which followed by asking what he had lost. The old man looked at him with sudden suspicion.
'Oh, it ain't nothin' much,' he replied offhandedly, 'but a fella don't like his things took.' He essayed a grin. 'No good to nobody but me. Anyways, I'm all right now, boy, an' I ain't forgettin' what yu done. Never thought to thank a Burdette for anythin', but I'm doin' it. S'long.'
Riding slowly along the winding trail down the mountain-side, the roar of the river rang in the boy's ears. He had heard it often enough, but to-night it seemed to convey an intangible menace, a threat of impending danger. To his mind, attuned to the solitude, gloom, and his own troubles, it sounded like the rolling drums of a funeral march, voicing the inevitability of death. For tens of thousands of years it had gone on, and for as much or more, after he, poor atom, had ceased to be, it would continue. The boy shook himself and laughed.
'Old age must be creepin' up on me, Silver, or else I'm goin' loco,' he told his horse. 'Mebbe we ain't here long, but we gotta do the best we can. Anyways, that's one bad mark I've saved the Burdette family.'
Early morning found King and Sim Burdette dismounting outside the hut in the pine forest. There was nothing in the appearance of the place to warn them of the surprise in store. The elder brother unlocked the door, flung it open, and strode in.
'Come to yore senses yet, Cal?' he asked harshly, and then paused in bewilderment. 'Hell's flames, he's gone!' The strips of rawhide which had bound the prisoner caught his eye and he picked them up. 'Clean cut,' he decided. 'Who the devil can have knowed he was here?'
Sim's expression was ironical; had it not also been a blow for him he would not have been sorry to see his cocksure brother bested for once--that was the Burdette nature.
'Someone musta trailed yu yestiddy,' he suggested, and his tone implied carelessness.
'Brainy, ain't yu?' sneered the other. 'P'r'aps yu can tell who it was?'
Sim nodded. 'Our dear brother, for an even bet,' he replied, and pointed to the patch of sand in front of the door. 'That footprint looks mighty familiar to me; Luce walks toed-in, like an Injun.'
Instead of the explosion he expected there was a silence,and then King said slowly, 'So it was Luce, huh? I shall have to deal with him.' Quietly as the words were spoken, there was a deadly purpose in them. 'Meanwhile, we gotta find that cursed old fool again. Yu send that note off?'
'Yeah,' Sim told him. 'But I don't like it, King; I guess yo're goin' the wrong way to work. If we can get the gold, why fuss about the C P?'
His brother whirled on him. 'Where d'yu s'pose the mine is, yu chump?' he asked. 'I'll tell yu: around Stormy--on C P land, an' if it warn't I'd still go after Purdie, crush an' tromp him in the dust, him an' his. Now d'yu understand?'
Familiar as he was with King's savage humours, the fierceness of this outburst surprised the younger man. Hard-shelled and devoid of scruple himself, material gain bulked greater in his eyes than mere revenge, but if both could be attained ... His thin, cruel lips shaped into an ugly grin.
'Suits me,' he said. 'I ain't lost any Purdies. What yu want I should do?'
'We gotta search out Cal. Take a look at his shack--there's just a chance he's been dumb enough to go back. I'm for town, to see if I can get a line on him there. Yu'Il need to watch out; if them C P hombres catch yu snoopin' round yu'll likely stop lead.'
'Can't afford to do that--the fam'ly is gettin' considerable thinned out,' Sim said grimly. 'Yu reckon one of 'em got Mart?'
'I dunno--yet,' King replied darkly. 'Somethin' queer about that.'
The younger man nodded agreement, swung into his saddle, and began to pick his way through the pines in the direction of Old Stormy. King slammed the door of the hut, locked it, and set out for Windy. Though he had not betrayed the fact, his mind was in a ferment of fury over the escape of the prisoner, and the knowledge that Luce had brought it about added fuel to the fire of his wrath.
'Time that snake was stamped on,' he muttered.
Sim's reference to Mart recalled another mysterious taking-off, that of his father. Though he had, as part of his policy, openly blamed the C P for the killing, he did not actually believe it. Much as he hated Purdie, he knew him to be a fair fighter who would face his man and scorn to take a mean advantage.
Curious glances greeted him as he rode along the street, his handsome features marred by a heavy frown. Local gossip held that King Burdette was taking the passing of his brother far too quietly, and was wondering when the fur would begin to fly. The marshal, peeping through his window, saw him pass, and grimaced at his broad back.
'King, huh?' he gibed. 'Knave would suit yu better, though mebbe yu won't be no more'n a two-spot when it comes to a show-down.'
The object of this malignant criticism dismounted at 'The Lucky Chance' and went in. The place was empty, save for the proprietor, dozing behind the bar.
'Howdy, Magee. Hot, ain't it?' Burdette began. 'Joinin' me?'
The saloon-keeper shook his head. 'I've quit--waste o' good liquor; ye sweat it out 'fore ye know ye've had it.'
The customer accepted the excuse--he knew it was but that--with a gesture of indifference. 'Suit yoreseif,' he said. 'Better not spread the notion about though; it might be bad--for trade.' He waited to let the covert threat sink in, and then, casually, 'Any news o' that miner who was missin'?'
'Divil a whisper,' the Irishman said. 'It sticks in me moind they've made away wid him.'
'Mebbe Riley was right,' Burdette suggested slyly, anxious to make the other talk.
'Mebbe he was not,' the saloon-keeper retorted. 'I'd name that fella for a direct descindant o' Mister Ananias. Yago saw Cal after Green had gone, an' I've knowed Bill a consid'able whiles.'
'Green's his friend,' King persisted.
'His foreman, which ain't jist th' same thing,' Magee corrected. 'An' the pair av thim is straight as a
