CHAPTER XVII. — A DELICATE SITUATION.
Few men possessed more courage than Fred Whitney, and he was thoroughly aroused.
Sitting in front of his own home during the evening, it naturally happened that he was without any weapon at immediate command. His Winchester and revolvers, his inseparable companions, during those stirring times, whenever away from home, were inside. It need not be said that every one of the rustlers had his "guns" in his possession, so he was a single, defenceless man against four armed ones.
Nevertheless, he strode forward in front of the open door, determined to make good his threat.
"You talk of cowards," he said; "you are four, and each has his pistols and rifle; I have none and one arm is wounded, but I defy you!"
"Come, come," said the leader, "this will do you no good; we're bound to have that man, and if he won't come out we must go after him. If you stand in the way we'll pitch you aside. We don't want to hurt you."
"Advance at your peril—"
"Fred, move a little to the left—that will do. I've got a bead on him now."
It was the voice of Mont Sterry, a few feet away, in the darkness of the room. The muzzle of his rifle, however, projected just enough to reflect the moonlight, and it was leveled at the breast of Larch Cadmus.
"One step," added Sterry, "and you're a dead man."
"Larch Cadmus," said Fred, thrilled by the occurrence, "for we recognize you despite those whiskers, I never knew Mont Sterry to break his word!"
Language cannot do justice to the situation. At the very moment the miscreant was about to advance to hurl Whitney from his path he was confronted by the muzzle of a loaded rifle, held by a man who was in deadly earnest, and who realized he was at bay.
The startled ruffian recoiled a step and stared into the darkened room, as if he failed to grasp the situation.
"Not a step in any direction," said Sterry, warningly; "if you attempt to retreat, advance, or move aside, I'll fire."
It would be a rash thing for any one to deny that the young inspector had secured the "drop" on Larch Cadmus.
But the man was accustomed to violence, and it took him but a minute to rally.
"Pretty well done, I'll own," he said, with a forced laugh; "but what good is it going to do you? There are three more of us here and a half-dozen hardly a hundred yards away."
"And what good will they do you?"
"Spark," said Cadmus, "slip back to the boys and give 'em the tip; we'll see about this thing."
"The moment Spark or either of the other two stirs I'll let the moonlight through you! I'm going to keep my gun pointed right at you, Mr. Cadmus. If those fellows think I'm worth more than you, they have a chance to prove it, for only one of them has to take the first step to leave, when I'll press this trigger just a little harder than now. More than that, if one of them shouts, whistles, or makes any kind of a signal, I'll do as I threaten. If any man doesn't think so, let him make the trial."
"Well, I'll be hanged!" muttered Larch Cadmus; "this is a go!"
Judging from the new turn of affairs, it looked as if a single individual had the "drop" on four others.
It struck Larch Cadmus that this was a good occasion for something in the nature of a compromise.
"See here, Sterry," he said, assuming an affected jocularity which deceived no one, "I'll own you've played it on me mighty fine. But you can't stand there all night with your Winchester p'inted at me, and bime-by I'll git tired; can't we fix the matter up some way?"
"Fred," said Sterry, with the same coolness shown from the first, "slip through the door; you know where your gun is; stoop a little, so I won't have to shift my aim; when that is done we'll talk about compromise."
Fred Whitney, as quick as his companion to "catch on," did instantly what was requested. He dodged into the darkened apartment, with which, of course, he was so familiar that he needed the help of no light to find his weapon.
Had Larch Cadmus been as subtle as his master, perhaps he might have prevented this by ordering one of his men to cover Whitney with his gun, though it is more than probable that Sterry still would have forced the leading rustler to his own terms.
But there was one among the four with the cunning of a fox; he was Spark Holly, who had located the inspector when in front of the house.
At the moment Cadmus was brought up all standing, as may be said, Holly stood so far to one side that he was not in the young man's field of vision. He, like his two companions, could have slipped off at any moment without danger to himself, but it would have been at the cost of their leader's life; nor could they shift their position and raise a weapon to fire into the room, where there was a prospect of hitting the daring youth at bay, without precipitating that catastrophe.
The instant, however, Fred Whitney turned his back on the rustlers, Holly saw his opportunity. He vanished.
The others, more sluggish than he, held their places, dazed, wondering, stupefied, and of no more account than so many logs of wood.
Shrewd enough to do this clever thing, Spark Holly was too cautious to spoil it by allowing his movement to be observed. Had he darted over the plain in front of the house, Mont Sterry would have seen the fleeing figure, understood what it meant, and, carrying out his threat, shot down Larch Cadmus.
Holly lost no time in dodging behind the structure, moving with the stealth of an Indian in the stillness of the night. Then he made a circuit so wide that, as he gradually described a half-circle and came round to the point whence he had first advanced to the dwelling, he was so far off that the keenest vision from the interior could not catch a glimpse of him.
Certain of this, he ran only a short distance, when he came up with the half-dozen mounted rustlers of whom Cadmus had spoken, and who were wondering at the unaccountable delay.
The messenger quickly made everything plain, and they straightway proceeded to take a hand in the business.
CHAPTER XVIII. — A MISCALCULATION.
Larch Cadmus was well fitted to act the leader of so desperate a company of men. He was chagrined beyond measure at the manner in which the tables had been turned on him, but, like all such persons, when caught fairly, he knew how to accept the situation philosophically.
None understood better than he that the individual who held that Winchester levelled would press the trigger on the first provocation. He was the one that had sent the warning, and the other was the one that had received it. The twenty-four hours' truce had been ended by the words and action of Cadmus himself, and his chief wonder, now that Fred Whitney was with him, was that Monteith Sterry should show any mercy to his persecutor; had the situations been reversed, the course also would have been different.
But the ruffian was on the alert. He noticed the guarded movement of Spark Holly at the moment Whitney entered his home, and he needed no one to tell him what it meant.
He had slipped off to bring help and it would not take him long to do it, though Cadmus might well feel uneasy over what would take place when Sterry should learn the trick played on him.
It may be that a person's senses are keener in situations of grave peril than at other times, for, calculating as clearly as he could the period it would take his comrade to reach the horsemen, only a short way back on the prairie, Cadmus heard sounds which indicated their approach, though they must remain invisible for several minutes.
"Wal," said he, in his off-hand manner, directly after Whitney had whisked into the house, "now that you're together, how long do you mean to keep this thing up?"
"We're through," was the response.
"What do you mean?" asked the surprised fellow.
"You can go away as soon as you please. Mont Sterry doesn't care anything more about you, but I'll keep you covered as long as you are in sight, and if you or any of your men try any deception you'll take the consequences."
With a moment's hesitation, doubtless caused by distrust of his master, Cadmus began edging to one side. A few steps were enough to take him out of range of that dreaded weapon, and then his demeanour changed.
"That was a good trick of yours, Mont Sterry, but it won't do you a bit of good."
"Why not?"
"Here come the rest of the boys, and if you think you can hold them up, why try it."
At that moment the horsemen assumed form in the gloom and approached the house in a diagonal direction. Encouraged by their presence, Larch Cadmus once more moved toward the open door and resumed the position of leader.
"Now, my fine fellow, we summon you to surrender," he called in his brusquest voice and manner.
The reply was striking. A young man stepped from the door and advanced to meet the horsemen. There was an instant when Cadmus believed his victim had come forth to give himself up as commanded, but one glance showed that it was Fred Whitney. He calmly awaited the coming of the mounted men, saluted them, and said:
"You have come for Mont Sterry, and Cadmus there assures me that if I give him my word that he is not in my house he will accept the statement; do you agree to it?"
"How's that, Larch?" asked Ira Inman, turning toward him.
"Them was my words, but—"
"Well, then, I have to say that Mont Sterry is not in my house; the only persons there are my mother and sister."
"But I seen him, and he got the drop on me—how's that?"
"Yes," replied Whitney, enjoying his triumph, "he was there a few minutes ago, and he did get the drop on you and the rest of your fellows; but I took his place; he went out of the back door, mounted his mare, and if there's any of you that think you can overhaul him, you can't start a moment too soon."
No man who heard these words doubted their truth. They told such a straightforward tale that they could not be questioned. They would have been zanies had they believed that, with the back door at command and the certain approach of his enemies, Sterry had waited for them to attack him.
True, he and his friend would have held a strong position, in which they could have made it warm for the others, but the ultimate advantage must have been on the side of the assailants.
The laugh was on Cadmus, and those were the men who, in their chagrin, vented their feelings upon him. The worst of it was, he was as angry as they; but he might well ask how he could have helped himself, and whether any one of them would have done any better.
The foxy Holly, at a whispered word from Inman, darted around the end of the building and entered the stables. A brief examination showed that no animals, all being known to him, except those belonging to Whitney, were there.
Had any doubt remained, it was removed by his sense of hearing. Without the intervention of the dwelling to obstruct the sound, he caught the faint, rhythmic beating of the earth, barely audible and gradually growing fainter in the distance. It was just such a sound as is made by a horse going at a leisurely, sweeping gallop, and that was the explanation he gave it.
Mont Sterry was safe beyond pursuit, for there was no horse in the company that could overtake him. Spark Holly returned to the party in front and made his report.
It may be said the report was accepted and placed on file for future reference.
It was characteristic of those men, too, that they did not delay their own actions, now that their business may be said to have been finished.
"Well," said Inman, "that isn't the first time that fellow gave us the slip to-night. The way he did it before was mighty clever, but I don't see that he deserves any credit for fooling Cadmus, for any one would have known enough to do that. But remember that Mr. Mont Sterry is still in Wyoming, and we are not through with him yet."
"And there ain't any twenty-four hours' truce," added Cadmus.
"After what has taken place, there's little fear of Sterry making any mistake on that point," said Whitney, who was so pleased over the outcome of matters that he could speak in gentler terms than he would have used had the circumstances been different.
It would seem strange that these men, who but a brief time before were so hostile to the single person now in their power, should converse without the least offensive action; but most, if not all, of the doings of the men concerned in the late troubles in that section were in hot blood, and would not have occurred had time been taken for thought and consideration.
Inman and his brother rustlers wheeled about and rode off in the direction whence they came. Their movements indicated that they had no intention of following Sterry, since the course taken by him was almost directly the opposite; but Whitney was not fully satisfied. He remained in front of his home, listening in the stillness of the night to the sounds made by the hoofs of the galloping horses.
Gradually they grew fainter, until, had there been any air stirring, or had the tension of hearing been less, he would have heard nothing; but, when the noises were hovering close to inaudibility, they continued thus. They neither increased nor diminished, but remaining the same, steadily shifted the direction whence they came.
Instead of keeping to the westward, as they had been for a long time, they worked around to the north and east. Then the decrease in distinctness of sound was so rapid that it was quickly lost.
The truth was evident: the rustlers had started in pursuit of Sterry, though why they should have taken so much pains to conceal the fact from Fred Whitney was more than he could understand.
"They may overtake him," thought the young man as he turned to enter the house, "but it will not be right away."
A light foot-fall sounded in the darkness of the room.
"Is that you, Jennie?" he asked in a guarded undertone.
"Yes, brother; have they gone?"
"Some time ago. Is mother asleep?"
"She was asleep before they came, utterly worn out. I am glad she knows nothing of the cause of their visit. And what of Monteith?"
"He is many miles away, and still riding hard."
"Will they pursue him?"
"Let them do so if they wish, they will have a fine time overtaking him," was the light reply of the brother, who, leaning over in the gloom, affectionately kissed his sister good-night.
CHAPTER XIX. — THE BURNED RANCH.
Meanwhile Monteith Sterry was making the best of his opportunity.
It was no great exploit for him to slip out of the back door, when he found his enemies gathering in front; but, had he not been convinced that the movement was in the interests of his friends, as well as himself, he would not have made it.
His flight was at a moderate pace for several hundred yards, by which time he considered himself safe from pursuit and gave his mare free rein. Her speed was rapid, but she was capable of maintaining it for hours without fatigue.
Sterry's intention was to make his way to the ranch of his friend, Dick Hawkridge, which lay to the westward. He began veering in that direction, so that it may be said that while Inman and his band were riding toward him, he was approaching them. Two causes, however, prevented a meeting of the parties.
Sterry was much further out than the rustlers, and in the darkness they could see nothing, if indeed they could hear anything of each other. Then he had not ridden far when he was checked by an unexpected sight.
A bright red glow appeared to the northward in the sky. It was too vivid, distinct and near for him to mistake its nature. It was a burning building, the flames showing so strongly that, aware as he was of the deceptive nature of such a light, he knew it was no more than a mile away. He turned the head of his mare in that direction.
"Things seem to be stirring to-night," was his thought as he galloped forward, with his gaze fixed on the burning structure. "That may be an accident, but such accidents are not common in this part of the world."
His supposition was that it was the work of the rustlers, but he was mistaken.
The building was similar to that occupied by the Whitneys, though somewhat smaller, and burned so fast that when he reached the spot it was a mass of blazing embers, with hardly a semblance of the original structure remaining.
The sight was interesting of itself, but the attention of Sterry was riveted by the figure of a man lying motionless on the ground, only a few paces in front of where the door had been. His nerveless right hand still grasped the Winchester with which he had evidently made a sturdy fight when stricken down.
Sterry did not dismount, but, sitting in the saddle, looked on the sorrowful sight as revealed by the glow of the burning building. He was saddened that such things should be.
Little time, however, was given him for gloomy reverie, when Queenie sniffed the air and turned her head a little to one side. Looking in that direction, the rider saw the figure of a horseman assume shape in the glow as his animal advanced at a slow step. He must have detected Sterry before the latter saw him, and was studying him with close attention, his rifle supported across his saddle in front, ready for instant use.
Reading his suspicion, the young man called out:
"Come on, partner! You and I cannot be enemies at such a time as this."
The salutation reassured the other, who increased his pace.
Before he reached Sterry the latter half-regretted his action, for he recognized the man as Duke Vesey, one of the most notorious of rustlers and a bitter personal enemy. But a certain chivalry rules among such people, and after the greeting of Sterry to Vesey there was little danger of the latter taking unfair advantage of it.
"This is bad business," remarked the younger, pointing to the figure on the ground.
A hard look crossed the face of the rustler and his thin lips compressed as he shook his head.
"Yes, that's what's left of Jack Perkins; he was my pard."
"How did it happen?"
"How did it happen! A pretty question for you to ask. He was killed by the stockmen less than an hour ago."
"But they didn't ride hither and shoot him down, I am sure."
"I don't know what you can be sure of," said Vesey, ominously. "Jack and I were riding along peaceable like, when we heard horsemen behind us. We didn't pay any attention to them till we got home and Jack slipped off his horse. I concluded to stay in the saddle until the fellows came up and I had a talk with them. They were Capt. Asbury and his stockmen, and the first thing they called out was an order for us to throw up our hands.
"Well," continued Vesey, grimly, "we aren't in that kind of business, and the next thing the guns were popping all around us. Jack had nerve. I wish the poor fellow had stayed in the saddle; but his horse scooted off, and he stood right there where he fell, without a leaf to shelter him, and pumped the lead into those stockmen, who were mean enough to shoot the brave fellow in his tracks without giving him a chance for life."
"You told me they ordered him to surrender before the firing began."
"So they did, that they might shoot him down the easier. I had a hot chase with them, and it was a pretty close call for me; but they didn't keep up the hunt for long. You would think," added Vesey, bitterly, "that they would have been satisfied with dropping poor Jack, without burning down our home; but that is the style of the stockmen."
Here was a representative of each of the factions, or associations, so hostile to each other. The rustler knew Monteith Sterry, and must have felt a consuming resentment toward him. His words and manner indicated, too, that he was not averse to a quarrel. He had fought the stockmen more than once, and, with the memory of the recent collision and the advantages on the other side, he welcomed the chance of a conflict on anything like equal terms.
Monteith did not stand in any personal fear of the famous rustler, and was fully armed and on the alert. Without seeming to do so, he kept a watch on the man, but he disliked the thought of a personal encounter with him. The scene, the surroundings, and his own nature, revolted, and he resolved to submit to all that it was possible to bear before falling back on the last resort.
"No doubt," said Sterry, "there has been injustice on both sides, and stockmen as well as rustlers have done things for which there is no justification; I hope the trouble will soon end."
"It will end as soon as we get justice."
"Yes," Sterry could not help retorting, "for if justice were done to you rustlers none would be left. However," he hastened to add, "there is no reason why you and I should quarrel, Vesey; I had no share in the death of your friend; and if the case is as you represent it, he was more sinned against than sinning."
"Of course you had no share in that simply because you wasn't here, but you have been concerned in other affairs like this where some of the rustlers have gone down."
"It is quite possible I have," coolly replied Sterry, "inasmuch as when a man is attacked it is his duty to defend himself. I have not yet been convinced that I ought to stand up and allow others to do as they please when weapons were in my hands."
"You have no business in Wyoming anyway," said Vesey, angrily; "you have been sent here by the Association to do its underhand work."
"Duke Vesey," said Sterry, "you are a man of too much education to talk in that way. If you and I quarrel, it will be your fault, but don't fancy that I hold you in any fear. Good-night."
CHAPTER XX. — THE TRUCE.
It was a dignified proceeding on the part of Monteith Sterry, and the rustler possessed enough gentlemanly instinct to appreciate the feelings of the young man, who had attested his courage too often for any one to question it. But at the moment of wheeling his mare to ride off both caught the sound of approaching horsemen, and Sterry checked his animal.
"Who are they?" he asked, glancing at the rustler.
"How should I know? They may be some of your folks."
"They are as likely to be yours. I don't think, Duke, it is wise for us to stay here where we offer such inviting targets, for whoever the party may be, one of us is sure to be an enemy."
Monteith Sterry moved away from the area of illumination as he spoke, Vesey keeping close to his side.
"Is it understood, Duke," asked the younger, "there's a truce between you and me?"
"Of course; if you know anything about Duke Vesey, you know he's square. If they happen to be some of our boys, I won't take any advantage of you, nor let them, if I can help it."
"And if they are Capt. Asbury and others, I will reciprocate."
Enough was said. Enemies though the men were, no bosom friends could have been more in unison for the time. Ready to shoot each other on sight less than an hour before, and as they were liable to be within the following hour, they were equally ready to risk their lives, if necessary, to carry out the pledge just exchanged.
They had to ride but a short way when the gloom became deep enough to protect them against the sight of the horsemen who were approaching from the opposite direction.
Six men rode into view, halting on the spot vacated by the couple just before, the one at the head being recognized in the glow of the burning ruins as Capt. Asbury, with whom the affray had taken place a short time previous. Sterry knew each, as did his companion.
"All the party do not seem to be there," remarked Sterry.
"They are not," replied Vesey; "three are missing."
"I wonder if anything can have happened to them?"
"Accidents are liable to take place in this part of the world—"
"Hands up!" was the startling command that broke upon the couple at that moment, from a point directly behind them.
The truth was, Sterry and Vesey had been seen by the horsemen as they stole away in the gloom. Capt. Asbury, suspecting they were rustlers, sent three of his men out beyond them on foot, and they did their part so well that they came up without alarming either of their horses, who ordinarily would have detected them.
"I've been trapped!" muttered Vesey, savagely, glancing at the figures, standing but a short way off in the moonlight, with their Winchesters levelled.
"Never mind," said Sterry, quickly, "up with your hands, as I do, or we'll both catch it; I'll stand by you."
The rustler was wise enough to obey, with only a momentary hesitation. Had he not done so, he would never have had a second chance, for the stockmen were very much in earnest.
The footmen came forward with their weapons at a level, for they were too prudent to give their prisoners a chance.
"How are you, Hendricks?" asked Sterry, with a laugh, as the trio joined them.
The man addressed peered closely in his face, suspecting, and yet not convinced of his identity until after a minute or two.
"Well, I'll be hanged!" he exclaimed; "is that you, Mont?"
"I have a suspicion that it is," was the reply of Sterry, laughing quite heartily as he lowered his hands.
"Who is your friend?" he asked, moving around to gain a better view of the rustler.
"Ah, that's the man we're looking for," added Hendricks a moment later; "he's Duke Vesey, the partner of the late Jack Perkins."
"You are right," Sterry hastened to say, "but he is under the protection of a flag of truce."
"A flag of truce!" repeated the other; "where is it?"
"I gave him my pledge to shield him against you folks, as he agreed to do if your party had proven to be his friends."
"Well, that's a queer state of affairs," laughed the other, not forgetting to keep guard of the prisoner, who was permitted to lower his hands. The other stockmen were equally alert, now that there was but one man to watch, so that Vesey was really as helpless as though deprived of all his weapons.
"I do not see what is so queer about it," replied Sterry, warmly; "we heard you coming and moved off out of sight. Before doing so Vesey pledged himself to stand by me against any of his friends, if it became necessary, and I promised to do the same for him. The issue shows that it is my privilege to keep my promise—that's all."
It was plain that Hendricks felt himself in a quandary. He had been sent out to capture the two men under the supposition that they were rustlers. It was proved that one of them was the very individual whom Capt. Asbury was anxious to secure. To release him after taking him prisoner would place his captor in anything but a pleasant situation with his leader.
Suspecting his dilemma, Sterry said:
"You can readily arrange it by taking me in as prisoner and allowing Vesey to go."
"That is all well enough, but it will put me in a hole that I don't intend to be put in. Capt. Asbury is the boss of this business; you two can ride up to him and make your report; that will place the responsibility where it belongs."
This seemed reasonable, but Sterry felt uneasy. He knew the violent temper of Capt. Asbury, and feared he would refuse to acknowledge the agreement as binding upon him. On the other hand, Sterry was determined to stand by his pledge to the last.
"I can't consent to that," he said.
"You've got to," replied Hendricks; "it is idle to suppose that any such bargain as you may choose to make can be binding on others who were not present when it was made, and therefore were not parties to it."
"That is one way of putting it, but the promise is binding on me, and as true as I am a living man I will fight to the death against you and the whole party before this person shall suffer because of his faith in my word."
"Very well, then, fight it is; he has got to surrender to Capt. Asbury and await what he is willing to do with him."
"Duke," said Sterry, turning to the rustler, "it's two of us against three, and you and I have been there before."
But on the verge of the explosion the rustler came to the rescue.
"There's no need of any row, Sterry; I'll surrender and take my chances."
And to settle the dispute he struck his horse into a gallop, and before the surprise was over rode up to the group, who were gazing wonderingly off in the gloom, whence came the sound of voices.
Sterry and the footmen were but a brief space behind them. While the astonished captain and his companions were looking around for an explanation, Mont Sterry made it in as brief and pointed words as were at his command.
Capt. Asbury fixed his gray eyes upon the handsome countenance of the young man during the few minutes he was speaking, and Sterry saw, despite the forceful terms in which he stated the agreement, that the leading stockman was angry.
"I've no objection," he remarked, striving to control his voice, which was tremulous with anger, "if you choose to play the woman, but I don't see what I've got to do with it."
"Vesey surrendered under my promise that he should be protected; had he not believed that promise he would not have surrendered."
"But would have been shot down where he sat in the saddle. Had he been beyond reach and come in under such a pledge, the case would have been altogether different; but as it is—"
The fateful words were interrupted by a rush and dash. Attention had been diverted for the moment from the prisoner to the one who was pleading for him and to him who held his fate in his hands. The observant Vesey saw the inevitable trend of events, and, taking advantage of the chance, was off like a thunderbolt.
The parting glimpse showed him leaning forward on his horse, who was plunging at utmost speed straight away in the gloom. A half dozen shots were sent after him and something like pursuit was attempted, but brief as was the start gained it was sufficient, and he was soon beyond all danger.
CHAPTER XXI. — A MESSENGER IN HASTE.
The daring escape of the prisoner did not tend to improve the temper of Capt. Asbury, and he indulged in a number of emphatic expressions, during which Monteith Sterry was dignified enough to hold his peace.
But the leader of the stockmen quickly recovered his self-poise and accepted the matter as one of the peculiar incidents liable to take place at any time.
His version of the difficulty with the rustlers differed from that given by Vesey. They rode up to the house, not knowing who dwelt there, and were received with a shot, which, fortunately, did no damage. Duke Vesey was at the rear, near the structure in which the horses were stabled, when he hurriedly mounted and dashed off, just as he had recently done. He did not make a fight like his companion, who, as was represented, stood his ground. He was repeatedly summoned to surrender, but paid no heed to it, and it became a choice whether to shoot him down or allow him to empty the saddles.
While Sterry could not feel so well disposed toward Vesey after hearing this account, he did not regret the part he had acted, and he was also suspicious that Capt. Asbury had tinged his version with a little romance.
The incident itself was of small moment, but the consequences were likely to be far-reaching and important. One of the rustlers had fallen and his companion had escaped. His story of the fight would place the blame wholly upon the stockmen and inflame the feeling between the rustlers and ranchmen, already at a dangerous intensity.
Capt. Asbury was out with his men for the purpose of arresting several of the most notorious of the offenders against the law. Those rustlers were sufficiently powerful to make trouble. If they were given time to organize they could sweep the captain and his little party from the earth. There was reason to believe they would do that very thing, now that Duke Vesey was at liberty to spread his account of the last outrage.
Capt. Asbury held a brief consultation with his men, all, including Sterry, taking part. The consensus of opinion was that they ought to effect a junction with some of the larger parties of stockmen known to be abroad, or withdraw to some safe point like Buffalo, Riverside, or the nearest military station.
Ira Inman, Larch Cadmus and the others were on the "war-path," and at no great distance. Morning would probably find them in sight, if the stockmen should stay where they were.
Capt. Asbury decided to ride to the westward, in the hope of effecting a junction with friends or of reaching a point where they would be secure against their assailants.
The night was well advanced, but their horses had done comparatively little travelling and were capable of a good deal more. The captain took the lead, holding only occasional converse with his men as he swung along at an easy pace; but he, like the rest, was on the lookout for danger, which was liable to approach from any point of the compass.
A marked change showed itself in the temperature. The weather, as will be remembered, had been unusually mild earlier in the evening, but it now became sharp and chilly, as though the breath from the snowy mountain crests was wafted down upon them.
In a valley-like depression, an hour later, where there was an abundance of grass, beside a flowing stream of water, the party went into camp, with a couple of their number on guard, just as they would have done if in a hostile country—which in point of fact was the case.
The night passed, however, without any disturbance, and all were astir before sunrise. The men were provided with several days' rations, while the succulent grass afforded the animals all the food they needed, so there was no trouble on that score.
Capt. Asbury and Monteith Sterry mounted their horses and rode to the crest of the nearest elevation, which was fully 100 feet in height and commanded a wide sweep of country. The morning was clear and bright, and the first glance they cast to the northward revealed a stirring sight. A horseman was less than a half-mile away, and riding at headlong speed, as if in the extremity of mortal fright.
"What can it mean?" asked the puzzled leader; "no one is pursuing him, and I see no cause for his panic."
"I suspect," replied Sterry, thoughtfully, "that he is a messenger bringing important tidings to you."
CHAPTER XXII. — IMPORTANT TIDINGS.
It seemed strange that the messenger, if such he was, should know the right course to follow in order to reach the camp of Capt. Asbury, for he was riding directly toward it, and that, too, at the highest speed of which his horse was capable.
But Monteith Sterry had noted a fact which escaped the captain, though he was an observant man. The horseman was not approaching the camp at the moment the couple reached the crest of the elevation and began scrutinizing the surrounding country; he was going at right angles to it, but (as it afterward proved) he carried a glass, with which, at that moment, he was also scanning the horizon for something he was very anxious to find.
Fortunately he caught sight of the couple, and though he could not be assured of their identity at so great a distance, the suspicion of the truth as to Capt. Asbury caused him to put his animal to his best speed.
In a brief time he rode up. While some rods away he recognized the captain and saluted him. A little nearer approach and he identified Sterry, who was astonished beyond measure to discover that he was his old friend, Dick Hawkridge, toward whose ranch he had ridden on the preceding evening.
"You're out early, Dick," was the salutation of Sterry, as his old friend reined up beside him and extended his hand.
"And are riding hard," added Capt. Asbury, who liked the young man.
"I ride hard," replied Hawkridge, gravely, "because there is need of it; I was looking for you."
"And why looking for me?" inquired the captain.
"Because you and your men are in great peril."
"Ah. What might be its nature?"
"From the rustlers."
"I was trying to persuade myself that it was they who were in peril from us, but you put it differently."
"It might be as you wish if you had twenty-five or fifty men; but with less than a dozen, and more than twice that number looking for you, discretion is the better part of valor."
"Tell me, Hawkridge, how all this interesting information came to you," continued Capt. Asbury.
"My ranch is not far to the northward, my cattle are ranging among the foothills of the Big Horn Mountains, and all my hands are with them. I sat up late last night, going over my accounts and trying to get them into shape, and it was past midnight when two rustlers rode up. I supposed they meant to stay all night and invited them in. I have never had any trouble with them, and they had two purposes in calling. One was to give me a little advice, and the other to secure information."
"Their advice, I suppose, was that you cast in your fortunes with them, and take up the business of branding mavericks and altering other brands."
"Hardly that, but it was that I should keep out of the trouble, for there are going to be ugly times. Now you know that, however much I may wish to let things proceed smoothly, I will never identify myself with the law-breakers. I gave my callers to understand that, and I think they respect my position.
"It seems to me," added Hawkridge, thoughtfully, "that there have been some woeful mistakes made. The Cattle Association have organized an expedition to rid Johnson, Natroma and Converse Counties of cattle-thieves, as they call them. They have imported twenty-five picked men from Texas, every one of whom is a fighter and dead shot, with Capt. Smith, an ex-U.S. marshal, as their leader. One of the party may be taken as a type of the rest. He is Scott Davis, once a guard on the Deadwood coach, and he carries a gun with twenty notches on the stock, each representing the death of a road-agent or other outlaw.
"The expedition left Cheyenne some days ago and is somewhere in this section. Strong as it is, it is doomed to defeat, for I don't care how brave and skilful those fellows are, they are no more so than the rustlers, who far outnumber them.
"However, it isn't that which concerns you and me just now, though it may do so later. The rustlers have learned that you are out with a small party, and they are after you."
Capt. Asbury was a brave man, and he did not start on hearing this announcement, for he had been expecting it from the first; but he was prudent as well as daring, and he knew his young friend did not underestimate the danger of himself and companions.
"Have they learned anything about last night's doings?" asked Sterry.
"That's what started me off after you in such a hurry. My callers stayed more than two hours, and were about leaving when who should ride up but Duke Vesey, with his story of the killing of his comrade, Jack Perkins, by you and your men."
"I suppose he called it a murder," remarked Capt. Asbury, sarcastically.
"Yes, the worst kind, too. I knew he was drawing a long bow, but he will tell it to others, and it will spread like wildfire. He was looking for Ira Inman, Larch Cadmus and his party. There are more of them than you and others are aware of, riding up and down the country, ripe for any mischief. From what I know, Inman and a dozen of the most desperate rustlers are in the neighborhood, and as the two fellows who were at my ranch volunteered to help Vesey find them they will do it pretty soon, if they have not already done so. Vesey declared it as his belief that you would be discovered not far from his burned home, so as soon as they left I mounted my best horse and started to give you warning."
"I appreciate your kindness, Hawkridge; how did you know the right direction?"
"I knew the course to Vesey's ranch, and was speeding that way when I caught sight of you and Sterry on the top of this hill. I took a squint through my glass, was pretty sure who it was, and then came like mad. I didn't suspect it was you though, Mont, until I almost ran against you."
"Did Vesey say anything about me?" asked Sterry, with a meaning glance at the captain.
"He said you had acted like a white man in some dispute, but he didn't give the particulars and I didn't question him. He is intensely bitter against the captain and his party, and declares that not one of them shall get out of the country alive; and, captain, Duke Vesey is a man of his word."
"Then I suppose I may consider myself disposed of," replied Asbury, with a laugh.
"Not as bad as that, but it depends upon yourself."
"What do you advise?"
"Start southward at once with your men; if you meet the Texans and their friends, join them if you choose; it will make their strength so much the greater, and they need it all. If you fail to meet them, keep on till you cross the Platte and strike Fort Fetterman. In other words, captain, you have no business to be where you are."