"Might as well go one way as another," he muttered.
He still had his left-hand gun, and hanging by his right arm only, he swept it out and drove a slug into the evil, gloating face above just as Bundy fired. Sudden felt the wind of the bullet, and then saw the ruffian's body dive past him into the depths. But he was not out of the woods yet. His friends were coming to help him, but an upward glance told that they could not be in time--the root upon which his life depended was loosening. He looked down; there was another bush a little lower, in a direct line; if he could grab that as he fell ... Far below, he could see the red-brown river raging along the bottom of the canyon, hurling itself at the jagged, tooth-like boulders which strove to bar its progress.
Grim of face, he let go, felt the air whistle in his ears, then branches struck him, and he clutched; the bush withstood the shock of his weight. Arms aching until it seemed they must leave their sockets, he dangled there, and waited for aid. It seemed long in coming. Actually, as they told him later, Dan, Hunch, and Yorky were on the ledge less than ten minutes after the daring drop. His first news of them was the loop of a lariat which slid past his face. Slipping his weary arms through, he was hauled up, bruised, but little the worse.
"Shore, I'm all right," he replied to Yorky's shaky enquiry. "Injuns think a lot o' the mesquite; I'm agreein' with 'em. Did he hit Trenton?"
"No, Zeb 'pears to have collapsed just as Bundy fired--the journey's takin' it out of him, an' there ain't much to take," Dan replied. "Thought we'd lost you, Jim. How come?"
"He fooled me--good an' proper," Sudden confessed, and told about it.
When they rejoined the others, Trenton had recovered, and was chaffing at the delay. He scowled at Sudden. "So you wiped out Bundy? I wanted him myself, an' I don't thank you," he said.
"Did I ask yu to?" the puncher retorted, and rode on.
"By God!" Tiny swore. "Next time Jim sees someone taking' a pot at you he'll let 'em git on with it, I reckon."
Trenton asked curtly what he was talking about. The cowboy told him, and put it plainly. Followed another question. "Wasn't it Green an' two-three more o' you who beat Bundy up for no reason?"
"Jim thrashed him--alone--for ill-treatin' Yorky. Bundy knocked the boy down, stole his rifle, shot his pony, an' set him afoot out on the range, a sick kid, with night comin' on. No reason, huh?"
"Is that true?"
The cowboy's good-humoured face became bleak. "If you wanta call me a liar, Trenton, wait till yo're well."
The rancher dismissed the threat with a grimace of disdain. "How long have you known Green?"
"Not near so long as I have you, but I like him a damned sight more," was the candid reply.
And that concluded the conversation.
Two more days of travel brought them within a mile of Rainbow, and there, in a wooded hollow well away from the trail out of the town, Dover called a halt.
"Before we decide anythin' I'll slip in an' get word with Bowdyr," he said. "It'll be dark when I reach the Parlour, an I'll take care not to be seen."
When he returned, he was excited, and a little jubilant. "We're in time," he announced. "Maitland is offerin' the ranches for sale to-morrow mornin', at eleven o'clock; all the cattlemen in the district have been notified. He's in a hurry, curse him; that's the day my mortgage expires."
"Mine too," Trenton growled.
"Well, mebbe he'll get a surprise," Dover went on. "We'll camp here to-night. The sale is to take place in the Parlour, an' we can sneak in through the back--I've fixed it with Ben. Our game is to lie low until Garstone has showed his hand--if he's there. He won't be expectin' any of us, an' he's figurin' Trenton is cashed. We can hear everythin' from the room behind, an' sift in at the right moment. All agreed?"
The assent was general. Trenton, a tired and sick man, sustained solely by his thirst for vengeance, asked one question:
"Anythin' been seen of Garstone an' Beth?"
"No, but they may've gone straight to yore ranch."
Dover's surmise was correct. Garstone and the girl had actually arrived in the vicinity of Rainbow several hours ahead of the Circle Dot, and Beth had insisted they should avoid the town. Garstone had no objection to offer. His comment, if uncomplimentary to his companion, was true--neither of them was fit to be seen. The homeward trek had been an ordeal for both, and to the girl a nightmare. Many times they had lost all sense of direction, and in the end had blundered blindly on the wagon-road to the settlement. Taking so much longer than they expected, food ran out, and though the man could shoot, he was so poor a woodsman that he frequently frightened the game and returned empty-handed.
The stress of the journey had shown Garstone to small advantage. Obsessed by his eagerness to get on, he showed less and less consideration for his companion, and any delay infuriated him. At such times he was almost brutal in his insistence, and she began to divine that his customary suavity was but a mask. The plea that he must save the ranch did not satisfy her. Any expression of anxiety concerning her uncle only irritated him.
"You didn't expect them to catch us up, surely," he said. "They would have to travel slowly, and you must remember that Zeb is not young, and sorely hurt; anything may have happened."
He had intended to prepare her for the news he hoped Bundy would bring, that the rancher had succumbed to his injury, but he only succeeded in frightening her.
"You mean he is--dead?" she asked fearfully.
"Of course not, but he may have had a relapse, which would delay them," he replied quickly. "On the other hand, Bundy would know a shorter way than we found, and they may be waiting at the ranch."
This did not prove to be the case; at the Wagon-wheel nothing had been heard of the owner or the foreman. When the travellers had washed, dressed, and eaten, Garstone was in a more pleasant frame of mind.
"Well, my dear, we're only just in time," he said. "I have a notice from Maitland that the Wagon-wheel and Circle Dot ranches will be sold to-morrow morning."
"But isn't that rather high-handed?" Beth asked.
"It certainly is, and I cannot understand Zeb giving them the power to do it. Either he is a poor business man, or he was in desperate need of the loan. However, we'll give that money-grubber a jolt."
"We? Surely there is no necessity for me to attend?"
"On the contrary, it is most essential. In your 'uncle's absence, you represent the family, and--I don't think he'd mind your knowing this--you are his heir."
"What have we to do?"
"Clear the Wagon-wheel and buy the Circle Dot," he replied triumphantly. "The two will make a fine property--for us, Beth. We shall also fling that red-haired boor into the mire."
The venom in his voice revolted her. "I have no wish to see Mister Dover ruined," she said coldly.
His surprise was genuine. "Why this sudden solicitude for the enemy of your family?"
"On one occasion, at least, he saved my life," she reminded. Garstone shrugged. "I doubt if the cattle would have hurt you," he said. "Perhaps we'll make Dover foreman at the Circle Dot."
"Which would humiliate him still more."
Her vehemence brought a thoughtful expression to his face. "No, that wouldn't do--he must leave Rainbow. A disturbing element, but I can deal with him."
She looked at him with stormy eyes. "Which means that you will get someone else to do it, I suppose," she said cuttingly. "I am tired of this hatred and violence. I will have no part in it."
Her mind in a tumult, she sought solitude in her own room, to sit, staring blindly at the peaceful scene without. Something had happened to her; it was as though she had awakened from an evil dream. She had not yet said "Yes" to Chesney Garstone, and knew now that she never would.
The man himself was not perturbed by her outbreak. "Overwrought," he decided. "She'll learn." The game was in his hands now. He had the money, and Trenton was dead--he felt sure of that, though the non-appearance of Lake and Bundy was perplexing. One bold stroke would put him in possession of both ranches. He went to Trenton's office to prepare it.