wait for his employer. It was two hours later that Purdie came in and learned of his daughter's absence. At first he appeared little concerned.
'Nan was raised here, an' she knows the country,' he said. 'Happen her hoss has played out on her.'
But his attitude altered abruptly when the foreman produced the scrap of paper and told how and when it had been found. Purple with passion, Purdie slammed one fist into another.
'That skunk writin' to Nan, an' askin' her to meet him?' he stormed. 'By God, I'll...'
'Slow down, Purdie, we don't know that Luce Burdette sent that note,' Sudden said quietly. 'I've a hunch it's more serious than just a love affair.'
'Nothin' could be more serious than my girl's carryin' on with one o' that crowd,' the old man said savagely. He pulled out his gun, spun the cylinder to make sure it was in order, and said grimly, 'Get me a hoss, Jim.'
The foreman saw that in the rancher's present state of mind, argument would be useless. When he returned, riding Nigger and leading another horse, he found the cattleman striding up and down the verandah.
'No call for yu to come,' he said. 'I don't need help to kill a snake.'
'I'm goin' along,' Sudden said firmly. 'If Luce had anythin' to do with this business I'll not interfere, but I'm thinkin' different; that boy may be a Burdette, but he's a white one.'
The rancher snorted his disbelief, climbed into the saddle, and sent his pony down the trail on a dead run. The trip to town was accomplished in silence. The elder man was too full of anger to talk, and the younger's mind was busy with the problem of what had happened in the glade. It was possible that Luce and the girl had cut the knot of their perplexities by running away together, but they would scarcely have left the tell-tale note behind, and there would have been no indications of a struggle, or of hidden riders. If Luce had not written the note...
Daylight had departed when they reached Windy, and the town was a blur in which occasional blotches of pale light from a window here and there only served to accentuate the surrounding gloom. From 'The Plaza' came the tinkle of a guitar and the chorus of a cowboy ditty; behind a cabin the dismal howl of a dog ended in a yelp of pain and a curse of content as some unseen sufferer hurled a rock successfully. Outside the saloons, rows of patient ponies announced that the usual evening entertainments had commenced. The C P pair dismounted at the hotel and inquired for Luce.
'He rid out this mornin', an' I ain't seen him since,' McTurk informed them. 'No, his war-bags is in his room.'
The rancher's face grew darker. 'Think he's at 'The Lucky Chance'?' he asked.
'Guess not,' was the reply. 'He'd have put his hoss in the corral, an' it ain't there; thinks a lot o' that grey, he does.'
'We'll be back,' Purdie said. 'If young Burdette shows up --'
'Who wants me?' a quiet voice asked.
The man they were seeking had just entered; his tired, listless face hardened when he saw the elder of the visitors. Sudden stepped forward.
'Luce, can we have a word with yu--private?'
The boy led the way upstairs, lighted the lamp in a small sitting-room, and then faced them.
'Well, Jim, what is it now?' he asked wearily.
The foreman came to the point at once. 'Is that yore writin', Luce?' he questioned, and placed the pencilled note before him.
Burdette read it with widening eyes. 'No, it ain't,' he said immediately, 'but it's a pretty fair imitation.'
'Yu didn't write or send it?' Sudden persisted.
'I did not,' was the reply. 'I wouldn't have the nerve anyway. What's it all mean?'
'We're tryin' to find out,' the foreman explained, and told as much as they knew.
On the boy's face as he listened, bewilderment, suspicion and anger displayed themselves in turn. Even Purdie, prejudiced though he was, could not doubt his ignorance. But another aspect of the matter was rankling in the rancher's mind.
'Why should a writin' from yu fetch my gal to this place?' he asked. 'Yu met her there afore?'
'Two-three times--allus by chance,' Luce admitted, and then looked the old man squarely in the face. 'See here, Purdie, I'm ownin' to bein' in love with yore daughter, an' that's why I couldn't pull on yu a piece back, but if yu think there's anythin' between us yo're insultin' her. I'd give my life to keep her from harm, but whether she cares for me I dunno; we never had no love-talk. She once said, in my hearin', that she could not marry a Burdette.'
'She told yu that?'
'No, she said it to King; I was present. Things bein' as they are, yu may as well hear it all.'
He went on to describe what had taken place at his last meeting with Nan in the glade, and the father's hard face grew grimmer and his fingers knotted into fists as he heard the story.
'She never let out a word,' he muttered.
'Why should she?' Luce asked bitterly. 'Warn't there trouble enough a'ready between yore family an' mine?'
'An' yore guess is that King has carried her off?' the foreman queried.
'Who else?' the boy retorted. 'He alone knew of our friendship--must 'a' seen us there one time, an' he'd have some o' my writin' to copy. This must be the move he was talkin' about to Sim.' A hot gust of rage shattered his control. 'By heaven, if he hurts a hair of her head I'll kill him, brother though he may be.'
Chris Purdie stood up. 'Yu won't have to,' he said, and his voice was cold, passionless, set with resolve. 'If Nan is harmed I'll send King Burdette to hell myself. Jim, we'll go get the boys an' clean up the Circle B right now.'
Luce shook his head. In the last few moments he seemed to have sloughed his youth, and when he spoke it was with the assurance of a man speaking to men.
'Yu can't do that, Purdie,' he said.
The cattleman scowled at him. 'What damn business is it o' yores?' he asked harshly.
'My name has been used to get yore girl into a trap,' young Burdette replied steadily. 'I aim to get her out of it, whether yu agree or not.' The glare he received left him unmoved. 'Yo're overlookin' the fact that if King holds Miss Purdie he has yu hog-tied. What's goin' to happen to her if yu move against him?'
The rancher's flushed face paled. 'He dasn't harm her,' he muttered.
'If yu think that yu don't know my brother,' was the grim reply. 'Yu gotta remember too that he has twenty men--trained fighters--an' he'll be expectin' yu.'
'He's talkin' sense, Purdie,' the foreman added. 'While King has Miss Nan all the town can't help yu, an' to go up there in force would be just what he's hopin' for. Got any plan, Luce?'
'I know the Circle B,' the young man pointed out. 'Mebbe I can find out where she is an' steal her away. Once she's clear o' King's clutches'--he looked at the rancher--'Yu an' yore outfit can go ahead.'
The old man sat thinking, chin sunk in his chest, his lined features drawn and grey; the blow had hit him hard. One hideous fact blotted out everything else--his daughter was at the mercy of one who laughed at the laws of God and man, and whose reputation regarding women was of the worst. Never until this moment had this dour frontier fighter known fear. Presently he looked up.
'If yu can bring Nan back I'll be willin' to believe there can be some good even in a Burdette,' he said.
The boy's eyes brightened at this grudging admission. 'I'll do it,' he replied, and to the puncher, 'By the way, I found Cal--they had him cached in the pines to the north o' the Circle B; they got nothin' out of him.'
'Where is he now?' Sudden asked.
'I dunno,' Luce told him. 'Said he had a hide-out where he'd be safe.' He smiled wryly. 'Yu don't s'pose he'd trust me, do yu?'
'Yu done a good job,' the foreman said hearteningly,and turned to his employer. 'Better keep all this to ourselves; we don't want anythin' started that'll force King's hand till Luce has had his chance.'
'I'll get her or they'll get me,' young Burdette said firmly, and Sudden saw the rancher regarding the boy curiously; he was evidently getting a new angle on this member of a hated family.
Riding back to the ranch, the foreman essayed a word of comfort :
'No need to worry about Miss Nan--yet; she's King Burdette's best bet, an' he knows it. 'Sides, Luce'll fetch her back; he's got sand, that boy.'
But this rubbed a raw place. 'Damnation, Jim, do yu fancy I wanta be under any obligation to one o' that
