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Show WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE'S COPYRIGHT WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE WNU SERVICE CHAPTER VII Continued 11 'He can't be all bad," Ruth broke in, her eyes shining like stars. "I knew it all the time, only all the evidence was against him. I don't bL-lieve he is the man who shot at Father at Tail Holt He may be bad. That is, he may have done bad things. But he isn't mean. He wouldn't lie about it. He'd come straight out, with that defiant, mocking mock-ing smile of his." "That's all very well, daughter," Lee assented. "I'll grant you he isn't a villain like that killer Morg Norris. Fact is, I never could quite get myself to think so, spite of all the proof. We sure owe him a lot on account of what he did for Frank. But very likely he's that train robber rob-ber they want in Texas. Must be some reason he's hiding here. You buy goods for consumption in Mexico, Mex-ico, thus escaping the Mexican export ex-port duty on silver and the import duty on merchandise. In such illicit trading there was a fat profit. Between Be-tween El Paso and Nogales there was no port of entry. The only custom-house was a shack on the San Pedro river at the point where it runs into the United States. One of the routes followed by smugglers wound through Live Oak canyon. From it the descent to Tough Nut was by an easy grade. The longer he thought of it the more convinced he was that the raid was against smugglers. A pack-horse pack-horse had accompanied the Norris party, probably to carry back the silver. Moreover, the personnel of the group pointed to something other oth-er than cattle - stealing. Neither young Howard nor Kansas were ton Sherman Howard's men. Look what he did for Frank." Her father turned In his chair. "Might have known you'd be butting in," he scolded, "seeing it's none of your business." "I heard voices," she explained, "and I came down to see who it was." "Now you know, you can go back to bed," Lee told her crustily. "Not just yet, please." Gray smiled blandly. "I'm gaunt as a pieded steer after a long drive. Since you're so sure I'm innocent Miss Chiswick, how about a cup of coffee and some ham and eggs? I'll have just time for them before we start if you move lively." "Start where?" she asked. - The red - headed man waved a hand debonairly at his host. "Ask Mr. Chiswick. I wouldn't know and saddled. "Tony Flores stayed at the bunk-house last night Do you want him to go?" the young man "I reckon so. How many rifles all told?" "Four, counting the buffalo gun. The other men trooped into the house for breakfast They ate by the light of lamps, Ruth and Nelly waiting on them. Plate after plate of biscuits vanished before them. Platters of fried eggs appeared and disappeared. Nelly poured great quantities of coffee. The men ate with the lusty, hearty appetites of hard riders who did not know when they would see food again. During the meal there was little conversation. conver-sation. After breakfast Gray drew Lee Chiswick aside. "Maybe we're figuring this thing - o ' hands with cows. Why bring them along and leave an expert like Curly at home? From chance remarks Gray had gathered that Curly was the leader of the rustler group. But Curly was no wanton killer. Gray did not ride straight for the canyon, but took the road that led to the L C ranch-house. The Chis-wicks Chis-wicks would know much better than he what to do, since they were fa- don't want to get too sympathetic to him." "No, if we get a chance we might arrest him and send him back to Texas," Ruth suggested scornfully. "There must be a reward for him." "Now now! No use getting highty-tighty, Miss. He can come and stay at the L C long as he wants. We'll do all we can for him, since we don't know he is an outlaw," out-law," her father said. "And if we find he is we can kick him out," the girl added. "All he has done is save most of our lives." Her father grinned ruefully. "You're sure a gadfly, Missy. You talk like I was starting right out to hunt this fellow down. No sense in getting all steamed up about it. If we get a chance to help him we will. That's all I can promise." Ruth nodded. She knew her father fa-ther would pay the family debt if he were given a chance. For herself, she felt a great lift of relief at what her brother had told them. She desperately wanted to believe in Jeff Grav. to pet assurance nt where. Lee said: "Go ahead, girl. Fix him up some food." He added to his son: "Rout Frank and Dan Brand and Buck Conrad out of their beds. See they get horses saddled." Before she left to make breakfast Ruth flung a question at Gray. "You are Innocent, aren't you?" "I never blocked a brand or ran one over. I never bought or sold a wet horse." "Did you hear me tell you to rustle some grub, Ruth?" her father fa-ther asked harshly. "Better fix breakfast for all of us. No telling when we'll eat again." Ruth vanished. Presently they could hear the rattling of stove-lids and the crackling of wood. "I don't know how to take you," Lee complained. "You certainly came through for Frank when he needed a friend. You claim you're not one of Howard's thieves, but you were with them when they ran that bunch of L C stuff up Box canyon. can-yon. Pat Sorley checked up on your horse's hoofs." out wrong," he said. "Maybe when Kansas let slip Live Oak canyon, that was just bait for me. Don't you reckon you had better leave a guard at the ranch to look after the women?" Lee considered this. "No. Men in this country don't make war on women, not even a fox like Sherm Howard." Gray rode with Lee Chiswick at the head of the little cavalcade. They came into rough country, a wild jumble of hills and draws which made for slow and hard going. go-ing. In the darkness the horses felt their own way. From the summit of one of the hills Chiswick pointed down to a gash in the rock wall facing fac-ing them. . "Canyon Diablo," he said. "That was the Spanish name. We call it Live Oak now." Chiswick left the rest of his party in a mesquite draw while he and Gray rode forward to reconnoi-ter. reconnoi-ter. The younger man carried Dan Brand's rifle, sinne hp hnrl nnt. nnp least that he was not mean and treacherous. A queer joy flooded her heart. Jeff Gray fitted himself easily into the life of Tail Holt. Frequently he dropped into the blacksmith shop of Hank Ransom and listened to tall stories of the days when Hank had campaigned against the Apaches under un-der Generals Crook and Miles. He struck up an acquaintance with the cobbler, little Ed Godfrey. He showed no curiosity about those he met. When they came and went, where they lived, what their ostensible occupations were, held no visible interest for him. He accepted ac-cepted each man for what he gave himself out to be. The riders drifting drift-ing in and out of Tail Holt no longer long-er looked at him suspiciously. Curly Connor liked him, and Curly was a leader. The only man who seemed to resent his presence was Morg Norris, and this was discounted by the fact that the surly youth was friendly to few. Sensitive to atmosphere, Gray deduced de-duced one day that something unusual un-usual was in the air. He saw Norris Nor-ris in momentary furtive talk with "He didn't check up well enough. I went up the gulch after the thieves, not with them. They passed close to the line-camp in the night. I heard them and went out to see who they were. Pat hadn't been feeling well the night before, so I didn't wake him, but followed the rustlers alone." "You're a detective for the Cattlemen's Cat-tlemen's association. That what you mean?" "You can do yore own guessing. Right now I'm giving no information." informa-tion." Chiswick threw out a hand in a gesture of defeat "All right. Have it your own way. I'll take a chance on you. If you're right about it and this bunch you followed are headed for Live Oak canyon, it is a cinch they are not figuring on running off any of my stock. My guess is the same as yours. They have heard word of some silver smugglers on their way to Tough Nut. At least, that would look reasonable to me. Probably they will lie in wait for them at the rock slide. A thousand big boulders crashed down a million mil-lion years ago, and filled up the trail so a traveler has to wind of his own. They rode cautiously, searching the darkness in front of them with their eyes as they moved forward. Of the two Chiswick was the more uneasy. He could not be sure that his companion was not leading him into a trap from which he would never come out alive. Neither of them saw any sign of another party. Finally they drew rein and dismounted. Back of a small elevation 50 yards from the mouth of Live Oak canyon they tied their mounts. Very carefully they covered the remaining distance. Within rifle range were a hundred boulders behind which enemies could find cover. Safely they reached the trail. ."They're ahead of us." Gray pointed to fresh tracks. They examined the footprints, striking matches as they stooped to make out the impressions. One horse had a broken front hoof. Another An-other wore very large shoes and stepped a long way. "I've seen both of those tracks before," be-fore," Chiswick said. "The horses that made them belong be-long to Morg Norris and Mile High " Gray replied. "Where fin U7C rrn Finally they drew rein. miliar with the terrain. If he played a lone hand he might miss the smugglers and let them ride on to destruction. It was in the small hours when he reached the ranch. At his approach to the house a dog barked furiously. Presently someone opened the front door and came out on the porch. A voice demanded, "Who's there?" "Tell Lee Chiswick that Jeff Gray wants to see him," the night visitor answered, at the same time swing- arouna among mem. u s a nne spot for an ambush. Question is, can we get to the smugglers before they reach the canyon?" "If not, they will probably be wiped out. You know that killer Morg Norris. He'll figure dead men tell no tales." "Yes. Three smugglers were dry-gulched dry-gulched and killed last year. In Skeleton canyon, not in Live 'Oak. Norris was in that, they say." "Unless the Mexicans fool them and come up some other way," Gray said, thinking aloud. "Through Live Oak would be the nearest for them." "Howard must have a spy in Mexico Mex-ico who is in with the smugglers." "Looks like," Chiswick agreed. Presently Frank Chiswick came into the room. He told his father that the horses were being caught from here? My idea is to follow them into the canyon or along the rim." Chiswick called to the rest of his posse and the others joined them. Brand recovered his rifle from the red-headed man. "Norris and his crowd are in the canyon, boys," Lee said. "We are going in after them. But get this right. We have no evidence as to why they are here. So we can't cut loose at them promiscuous. Maybe May-be they'll show their hand before we reach them. Anyhow, till I give the word there isn't to be any gunplay. gun-play. We're law-abiding citizens." "How many of them are there'" asked Buck Conrad, chewing tobacco tobac-co stolidly. He was a short, thick bowlegged man with an imperturbable imperturb-able face. (TO BE CONTINUED) ing from the saddle on the far side of the horse. There was a moment of silence. "What you want with him?" Bob Chiswick asked. "I'll tell him that when I see him," Gray said dryly. "You run along in and tell him I'm here." A head was thrust out of an upper up-per window. "Who is it, Bob?" "Says he is Jeff Gray, Father," Bob called up. "Wait a minute." The head was withdrawn. Five minutes later Lee Chiswick stepped out on the porch. Gray told him why he was there. To his son Lee said, "Light a lamp in my office, Bob." To Gray, "Tie your horse and come in." Gray followed the cattleman into his office and took the chair to which his host waved him. Lee sat across the table from him. Young Chiswick Chis-wick remained standing "First off, Mr. Jeff Gray, if that's your name, let's get it clear where you stand. I'll ask you to come clean, sir. Are you one of Sherm Howard's scoundrels?" "Would I be here if I were?" Gray asked. Ruth stood in the doorway, her dark eyes dilated with surprise. She Sherman Howard. The big man was giving the other instructions. Norris Nor-ris picked up Kansas and took him out of the Golden Nugget with him. Mile High came in, sauntered over to Howard, held a low-voiced conversation con-versation with him, and departed. Presently Gray announced, with a yawn, "Tired of poker," and cashed in his chips. He strolled down to the Alamo corral. Sid Hunt and Kansas were saddling their horses. One of them tied back of the saddle a gunnysack containing oats. "What about that lame sorrel, Sid?" asked Reynolds. "You be back tonight?" "You look after it, Jim," Hunt said. "Don't look for us till you see our dust coming up the road." "We got a hen on down Live Oak canyon way," Kansas said with a grin. Back of the horse Hunt kicked him on the ankle. Kansas added a rider to his indiscreet in-discreet remark: "Or somewheres else." Each of the men had a rifle strapped beside his saddle. Gray watched them ride out of town. They took the road to the west, the one Lee Chiswick and his daughter had followed the night of their adventure in front of Sanger's had flung a wrap over her night- I gown and she held it caught close to her slender, gracious body. Above the slippers into which her feet had been thrust there was a glimpse of white ankle. "I'm not asking for a Yankee answer, an-swer, sir," Lee said impatiently. "I'm not giving you one," Gray told him curtly. "I've been in the saddle all night to bring you the tip-off. tip-off. Take it or leave it." "There's a story in Tail Holt that you are Clint Doke, the fellow who robbed the Texas and Southern," persisted Lee. "Not mucn time for gossip right now if we aim to head off those scalawags," Gray said. Ruth broke into the talk. "I don't believe it. I don't think Mr. Gray is a train robber or a rustler, Father. Fa-ther. And I know he isn't one of store. Half an hour later, Norris, Mile High, and young Howard left Tail Holt headed in the same direction. direc-tion. Darkness was falling when Jeff Gray rode out of town. He had never been in Live Oak canyon, but he knew from Pat Sorley that it was on the L C range, not more than three or four miles southwest of the line-cabin. Were the night riders out to make a raid on L C cattle? That was possible. pos-sible. But why cross 20 miles of Chiswick's range into hill country when plenty of stock could be picked up in the Sweet Spring valley with a much shorter drive to safety? As he rode through the darkness, mind focused on the problem, another an-other likelihood flashed upon Gray Occasionally smugglers from Sono-ra Sono-ra brought silvpr to Tough Nut to |
