OCR Text |
Show ryHILLS 6F DESTINY CHAPTER XIII At the ranch house, relations between the Inmates were noticeably notice-ably strained, but Virginia saw little of the others. They would all have departed gladly, but to leave just now might create an Unpleasant impression an even definitely arouse suspicion in this place where feeling was running so high. The Archers fussed a-round a-round anxiously, Bradish was agent, and Stanley was nervously bluntly rude to his now useless on edge. There several matters that were worrying him badly, and one of them was a thousand dollar bill. If they should catch Gano and find that bill on him, Stanley Bradish was going to have a bad time trying to explain it. The second day dragged out to ghastly length, but there was no trace of Lee, and no sign of Slanty Gano or Lawler. Men began to shake their heads. There were plenty of places around here where a man's body might lie hidden hid-den for a score of years. Only Virginia and one other re-fuesd re-fuesd to believe that Lee was dead. The other came at dusk and touched her arm shyly with a little lit-tle brown hand. "I not hate you any more. My heart it break for you, and for Lee. I help you fin heem." "Thanks, Josefa." Virginia held the small hand closely. In the black tunnel of the Bonanza Bon-anza a gaunt shadow of a man lay. Years ago Don Lnis' reckless mining min-ing had turned his own claim and Matt's into a maze of intersecting tunnels, and through these Lee staggered and crawled, now fainting, faint-ing, now stumbling to his feet again, but somehow keeping a sense of direction in a head which one moment felt like a lump of lead and the next like a floating feather. He was hunting for a gleam of light or a breath of cool air, but neither came. Presently he lost all sense of time. He did not know that it was the noon of the second day which found him back at the place where Slanty had left him. Even as he worked, men "were passing through Turkey Gulch, less than a hundred yards away. One of the deputies looked up at the yawning black hole. "No chance of anybody hiding in the old Bonanza, is there?" Curly shook his head. "I was up there yesterday with the sheriff. Ye can't get but a little ways in. Both tunnels is blocked by cave-ins. cave-ins. They rode on. Back in the rubble-choked tunnel the digging hands had stopped. Lee was sinking sink-ing down, down, Into that deadening deaden-ing coma of weakness and exhaustion. exhaus-tion. Long hours of hiding had not Improved Slanty Gano's temper, and Lawler also was visibly soured. sour-ed. He was stretched out indolently, indol-ently, half sitting, half sprawling, just inside of a narrow crevice some forty feet above the floor of a secluded little box canyon. It was a perfect hideout. From where he lay on a pile of boughs, Slanty sent a jeering taunt at his fellow fugitive. Ye talk big, but I notice ye keep on skulkin.. The Circle V boys has found out that ye set that fire." "It wouldn't have done nothin' but burn off some grazi' if the wind hadn't freshed up," retorted Lawler sullenly. "And I notice there's two of us skulkin'. It's you them boys are after. You've done for Lee Hollister. Didn't I hear what they said, passin' not twenty feet away from us " "Maybe ye'll remem,ber that yore name was mentioned as well as mine.'' Slanty arose deliberately and faced his partner with a hard stare. "Where was ye Wednesday night, Lawler? Got an alibi? Slanty's voice was menacing, his head was thrust forward and his eyes bored into the stupidly staring star-ing ones of his slower witted companion. com-panion. "Better get your own alibi," snarled Lawler, but his voice was uncertain. Sticking doggedly to his one idea of ingratiating himself him-self with Milton Bradish by piling up discouraging losses on the present pres-ent owner of the Circle V, he had speint the night cutting out a bunch of Virginia's cattle and wantonly slaughtering them in a remote coulee. There had been a splash of blood on his shirt when he had returned in the early morning, morn-ing, to flee at the sight of those riding men. He wore his coat buttoned but-toned now to cover the stain. Presently Slanty went to where Lawler lay and put a hand on his shoulder as if to shake him awake. The sleeping man did not stir. From a hiding place inside his shirt Slanty took out a folded paper pap-er and slipped it cautiously into Lawler's under pocket. Then he arose lightly and went to the crevice crev-ice that served them as a doorway. door-way. Morning sunshine brightened the secretive little canyon. Down there two horses picketed, well hidden from any causua eye, but only one of them was fit for travel. Lawler had ridden his horse lame on Wednesday night, and the foot was getting bad. But Slanty knew what Lawler did not. There were two other horses not far away in a hidden corral. Slanty had more than once found it expedient to change mounts quickly. When Lawler awoke, hours later, lat-er, the sun was slanting westward and Slanty apparently was asleep. Lawler came softly to his feet and edged toward the narrow exit. ex-it. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he let him: down. Leading the fresh horse Lawler picked his stealthy way out of the box canyon, hugging the rock wall. He recalled feeling something stiff in an inside pocket of his coat as he had swung himself over the erge of the cave floor. The paper that he drow out was puzzling. Ie was a neatly fouded, legal looking document, withprint-ing withprint-ing on the back and a single word standing out boldly: DEED. Other words caught his eye "Matthew Blair" "Lee Hollister." Beneath the word Hollister was the blurred imprint of a bloody thumb. Panic swept over Lawler. Fire and slaughtered cattle, and in his possession the blood-smeared property pro-perty of a murdered man. What little head Lawler had, he lost. Cursing Slanty Gano and his horse, he mounted hastily and bolted for deeper shelter. As he rode he caught sight of a dozen men pounding along behind be-hind him. He crouched low over his horse's neck, cursing. All he could do was to ride. Then the grade dropped suddenly. There was a lurch and a stumble. The horse went down and lay there. Lawler was flung free and staggered stag-gered to his feet. He ran like a panic-stricken animal. A few moments later the foremost fore-most of his pursuers flung themselves them-selves off their horses and looked look-ed down. Many feet below them a human fly clung to a rock wall. One man drew a gun. "Hold on! He won't get away. He's done for!" They watched him fall turning, swooping head down. They stepped back and looked at one another. One of the young deputies spoke. "It looks as if that settled it, boys. An innocent man don't take a chance like that. Where's that white thing he dropped?" Someone found it in a clump of scrub. They crowded together looking at a blood-stained deed, and exchanged hard glances. "No doubt about it now," said the young deputy slowly. "The search is over." Each day Virginia had stopped for a little while at Lee's empty cabin, opening the door with the persisting, unreasonable hope that he might have found his way back there. For that very reason the bland finality of Curley's news about Lawler seemed crueller and harder hard-er to comprehend. He saw that she wanted only to be alone, and he left her. She could hear him riding down to the mouth of Turkey Gulch, and then it was quiet again. She hurried toward to-ward her horse. As she mounted, her little first aid kit boumped uselessly against her side. She had packed it so carefully, bandages, iodine, restoratives, re-storatives, matches for a fire, a tin of broth, fresh every day. In one pocket was a flashlight for dark places, in another a policeman's police-man's whistle to call help to Lee. Futile little toys! She gave Black Lightning his head, riding blindly. The ragged scar of the Bonanze came into view, and Virginia remembered re-membered Joey, searching patiently patient-ly and futilely for evidence In the loneliness of the old tunnel. She snapped on the flash as soon as she had gone a little way in. The pencil of white light flickered flick-ered over rock walls and rubble-strewn rubble-strewn floor, but there was no sign of Joey. Just ahead there was a darkly looming bulk which must mark the spot where the big cave-in blocked all further ingress to the mine. There white beam danced along the face of the slide. Earth,' stones,- rubble. It switched down, up, jerked suddenly and came back, searching wildly. Protruding stiffly from the piled earth and stone, gaunt and torn, blood-crusted and earth stained, motionless, was a human hand. Yesterday that hand had not been there! (To be continued) |