body slacken. The ruse succeeded. Believing his man to be beaten, and in dire need of a respite himself, Burdette relaxed a little of the pressure. Instantly, digging his heels into the ground, Sudden bucked like an outlaw pony, and Burdette, taken by surprise, had to fling out his right hand to save himself from being thrown headlong. One deep breath of air was all the puncher dared allow himself, and then from his tortured throat the one-time dreaded Apache war-cry rang out--twice. No sooner was it uttered than King was on him again.
'Can't scare us with that old trick, my friend,' he jeered, and swore as the foreman's fist caught him full in the face.
Again Sudden struck, blindly, hopelessly, with the primitive instinct of a cornered animal to die biting; he knew he could not get away. Burdette's followers were joining in the tussle. One went down with a gasp of agony as the foreman's heel landed in his stomach; a second, trying to catch a jabbing fist, got caught by it himself and retired to spit out teeth and curses; and then it seemed to Sudden that the whole of Battle Butte had fallen upon him.
'Take care o' the houn' till I come back,' King cried, and darted after the fugitives.
They had not got far--the steepness of the rise made speed impossible. Fiercely as he hated leaving their deliverer, Luce knew he must obey orders, so, bidding the girl follow him, he went doggedly on, breaking a way through the dense vegetation which, while it impeded also served to hide them. From below they could hear someone thrashing through the brush in pursuit. Lacerated by thorns they had no time to avoid, and with leaden legs, the runaways scrambled on, but Luce knew that the terrific exertion was telling upon his companion. She did not complain, but her panting breath and lagging steps were eloquent. King Burdette, following a path already made and not hampered by a slower person who needed help at difficult places, gained ground on them rapidly. They could hear him, stumbling, cursing, not far away, and behind him, others. Presently, at the foot of a steep wall
of rock which shot up out of the verdure, Nan slipped and fell.
'I just can't go on, Luce,' she groaned wearily. 'I'm sorry--to be--such a drag.'
'Yu've been splendid,' he replied, and drew his pistol. 'This is a good place to stand 'em off; they can't get behind us anyways.'
The crackling noise of trampled twigs and branches was very near now and then came a louder crash and a rumbled oath; someone had tripped and fallen. The boy's face grew hard. Nan was on her feet again, and they were standing in the deeper shadow of a big bush which partly masked the wall of the cliff. It was too late to resume flight, for in another moment their pursuers would be upon them. And then the miracle happened.
'Hey, Luce, duck in here,' a husky voice murmured.
The boy turned, saw a ghostly hand beckoning from the blackness, and seizing Nan by the wrist, hurried her towards it as King Burdette burst from the bushes. Following whispered instructions, they squeezed through a jagged crevice in the rock wall, stooped to crawl along a narrow tunnel, to find themselves in a small cave. Here the light of a solitary candle showed them that their deliverer was none other than the missing miner.
'He, he,' the old man chuckled as he saw their amazed expressions. 'Didn't figure on findin' me hyarabouts, huh?'
'Shore didn't, an' we're mighty glad to see yu, Cal,' Luce replied. 'Yu got us out of a tight place, unless...'
The prospector read his thoughts. 'Don't yu worry, son,' he said. 'King won't find us. Why, I've bin livin' here since yu took me outa that hut. No, sir, we've razzledazzled that triflin' relative o' yores this time. How come he's chasm' the pair o' yu?'
The young man told the story, and the miner's bright, squirrel-like eyes twinkled. 'So yu ain't a Burdette, arter all? Well, that's good hearin',' was his comment. 'Reckon King has bit off more than he can chaw for once.' A string of dull, muffled explosions reached their ears, and the old man dived into the tunnel. In a moment or so he was back again, his shoulders shaking with malign mirth.
'They's a-fightin' down there,' he told them. 'I'm guessin' the C P is takin' a hand in the game. What's in yore mind, son?'
Luce was moving towards the exit. 'I'm afraid they've got Green,' he explained. 'Mebbe I can do somethin''
California shook a gnarled finger at him. 'Didn't he tell yu to stay with the gal?' he asked.
The boy looked uncomfortable. 'Yes, but...' he began.
'Ain't no `buts',' the other cut in. 'Yu gotta obey orders. When that foreman fella talks he sez somethin'; lots o' folk just make a noise.'
'Yo're right, Cal, but I owe him more'n yu know, an' it's hard to sit still when . . .'
Leaving the sentence unfinished, he seated himself by the side of Nan on the shakedown of spruce-tops covered by a blanket, which was all the furniture the place could boast. In a moment, however, he was on his feet again, holding under the candle-light a chip of rock he had picked up from the floor.
'Why, Cal, there's gold here,' he said excitedly. One glance at the grimy, scored face told him the truth. 'Yu knew?' he added. 'So yore mine ain't on Ol' Stormy?'
The old man's face split into a grin. 'He, he, fooled yu too,' he cackled in his high-pitched voice. 'This of gopher ain't so dumb as some o' yu reckons. Wouldn't King r'ar up if he knowed the gold he was tryin' to steal laid right under his nose?'
'Ain't yu scared I'll tell, Cal?' the boy bantered.
The miner shook his head knowingly. 'Not any, son,' he said soberly. 'Yo're goin' to be my pardner. Yessir, if it hadn't bin for yu I'd likely be toastin' my toes where gold melts mighty quick.'
'But, Cal...'
The protest was cut short. 'Like I told yu, afore, there ain't no `buts.' I've spent all my life lookin' for the durn stuff, an' now I'm 'most sorry I've found it; won't have nothin' to live for.'
Luce looked at the girl in amused surprise; youth can rarely realize that achievement is not an unmixed blessing. 'Yu'd think he'd lost a fortune 'stead o' findin' one,' he whispered. 'It's going to mean a lot to us.'
She smiled teasingly. 'I didn't hear that I was included,' she said. 'I'm glad you are to be rich, Luce.'
'Yu know what I mean,' he told her tenderly. 'I'd be the poorest man in the world without yu, Nan.'
A cool little hand slid into his, and he was still holding it when Cal, who had slipped down to the entrance of the cave, came back. He coughed ostentatiously as he emerged into the light.
'Been young myself once, though yu mightn't think it,' he chuckled. 'The ruckus is still proceedin', an' I reckon we better stay put till we know who's goin' to win out.'
Save that they kept well away from Windy, Purdie and his men used the regular trail until they were near the Circle B, when they dismounted and approached on foot. Split up into pairs, spread out in a line along the slope facing the ranch buildings and securely hidden in the scrub, they waited for the signal. Out of a deeper blotch of blackness which they knew must be the ranch-house a lighted window gleamed like an eye; elsewhere was darkness.
Somewhere an owl hooted dismally, and at intervals a stealthy movement in the brush denoted a four-footed prowler in search of prey. Waiting proved weary work, and as the moments crawled sluggishly by, Purdie grew impatient.
'Damn this doin' nothin'--looks like things has gone wrong,' he grumbled. 'We've been here an hour.'
'Day ain't broke yet,' Yago pointed out. He could understand the cattleman's anxiety; if the foreman failed...? This suggested a new angle. 'S'pose we don't git that signal, what then?' he asked.
'We gotta fade--without firin' a shot--an' Burdette takes the C P,' Purdie said heavily. 'Jim is our one hope. I dunno what he was aimin' to do . . .'
'He ain't the chatterin' kind--didn't tell me neither--but I'm bettin' he'll make the grade,' Bill said confidently. 'We'll git the word all right.'
His employer grunted doubtfully; the silence and suspense, coupled with the inaction, were telling on his nerves. In a lesser degree some of the other men were feeling the same. Flatty and Moody, holed up together in a clump of brush from which, when they stood up, the front of the ranch-house was visible, were also getting restive. The night air was cold, and they dared not smoke.
'Wish they'd start the damn dance--my toes is froze,' Moody complained. 'An' yu would pick a catclaw to camp in, wouldn't yu?'
'She's a good place,' his friend replied complacently, although inwardly he was cursing the fact himself. 'Afeard o' gettin' yore lily-white skin scratched, huh?'
