"Ain't feelin' so fresh, huh?" he commented, but not until the rider was out of hearing. "Thought he'd larn you." When he was well beyond the range of prying eyes, Sudden straightened up in his saddle. His face was drawn and set with resolve. He had been driven to shoot the man he had come to save, just as he would have put out of its misery a suffering beast, and it hurt.
"If ever I'm in a like case, I hope someone will act the same," he muttered, and then, "I had to do it."
But the devil who had made such a deed necessary must pay, and in full.
Chapter XI
Joan Keith reined in her pony, leaned back in the saddle, and drew a long breath of profound satisfaction. She loved this untamed land, with its sandy scrub-dotted wastes, fragrant pine-woods, gloomy gorges, and inhospitable hills. Out of an unclouded vault above, the sun flung its fire relentlessly, but the night would bring a gracious coolness. The aromatic scent of the sage stung her nostrils. Behind stretched an undulating plain, the short brown grass of which fattened the Double K herds, and in front, a welter of low, broken ridges rising step by step to pinnacled grey peaks. It was upon these that her gaze rested longest. Among them--just where, she did not know--lay Hell City, and her eyes grew misty as she thought of the wayward boy who was wrecking his life there. Not his only, but her own, though this was something she fought not to admit, even to herself.
"Yes, it's a great pity, but when old men are tyrannical ..." The voice, familiar, but with a harsh intonation that was strange, startled her, and set her pony rearing. Her capable hands soon brought it under control and she turned to face the intruder, who had stolen up behind her, the sandy soil deadening the footfalls of his mount. Her face flushed and then paled as she saw the red mask beneath the high-crowned Stetson. Dumbly she noted the dandified cowboy rig, the silver spurs, and lavishly decorated saddle on the fine black he bestrode.
"You could always ride, Joan," he went on, and, reading her thought, "Yes, a good horse, Arab and mustang speed and stamina. I call him `Pluto'--rather appropriate, I fancy."
Below the pulled-down brim of the big hat she could see the pale eyes appraising her with cold curiosity. The sneeringly polite manner jarred on her, and she remained silent.
"You don't seem very glad to see me, yet we were good friends once," he said.
"Did you expect I would be?" she cried, stirred to anger and speech by the reference to earlier and happier days. "You are not the man I knew; you have changed--horribly."
"And you too have changed--charmingly," he smiled. "You were a pretty girl; now, you are a beautiful woman. By Christmas, it must be getting on for two years since I saw you. We must meet more often."
She shook her head. "Impossible, unless you give up this hideous masquerade and abandon the dreadful life you are leading," she said. "Won't you do it, Jeff? Your father--"
"Hates me, and would hound down and hang me if he had the power," he broke in fiercely. "Within the past few weeks he has hired a noted killer from Texas to help him accomplish that very thing. No, like Napoleon, I am a Man of Destiny. I must follow my fate, even--"
"If it leads to the gallows," she finished.
"Yes, even so, but it will not. The leaden-witted fools round here regard me as the chief of a band of criminals, hiding under a fantastic name, ready to rob for mere gain. Bah ! I care little for gold, but a great deal for the power it can give me. You have said I am changed, Joan. you are right; I have found myself; I have ambition."
"A poor one--to be an infamous outlaw."
"That is simply a stepping-stone to greater things. When I am the largest landowner in northern Arizona the past will be forgotten; the world forgives all to the successful."
"Such dreams are madness. The Government--"
"Has far too much on hand to worry about the West for years. When it does, I shall be established and--respectable. Some of our biggest cattlemen started as rustlers and then stole the land they now occupy. I shall begin with the Double K, which is mine by right."
"At present it belongs to Kenneth Keith, and he is neither old nor ailing," she reminded.
The thin lips under the mask parted slightly. " `In the midst of life ...' " he quoted. "He may--meet with--an accident."
There was no mistaking the sinister insinuation and the girl's face blanched. "Your own father!" she exclaimed, horror-struck.
"My own father," he repeated mockingly, "who told me I was no son of his, and desires nothing so much as my death."
"I do not believe it."
"It is true; I have a means of knowing."
"You trust your spies?" she asked scornfully.
"I trust no one," he told her. "My knowledge comes from myself; ignorant folk call it witchcraft, black magic, or the like; actually it is a gift of divination. It enabled me to be sure of your presence here this morning."
"Impossible ! I did not decide to come this way until after I had set out."
"Nevertheless, I knew, and so came to meet you. I wanted to see you because, changed as I am in many ways, one thing remains unaltered--my feeling for you. There has never been anyone else."
"Rumour tells a different tale," she said coldly.
"And rumour--as usual--lies. I saved a woman from imprisonment, but she is nothing to me. I cared for you, Joan, and if that domineering old autocrat--"
"You shall not speak of him so,"' she cried heatedly.
"Incredible!" he murmured. "Why, you are not even of his blood."
"He has been a father to me, and I love him as a daughter," she said warmly, and then, "Jeff, I think I hate you."
For a long moment the man gazed at her, noting the tanned, flushed cheeks, the firm, ripe lips, and the curling tendrils of golden hair trembling in the light breeze. Desire glowed for an instant in his stony eyes.
"You think so, but it is not the case," he replied. "When Keith gave me the air, you had an affection for me."
"Which, if indeed it ever existed, you have effectually slain," she said passionately.
"No, it is dormant maybe, but one kiss from me will bring it to life."
His effrontery infuriated her. "Never," she stormed. "You, a would-be parricide ..."
She turned to go, but he was too quick. Ere she could guess his intention, a touch of the spurs sent his horse close to her own and he had gripped her by the wrist and waist.
"Don't struggle, Joan," he panted, his voice thick with passion. "You are mine. One day we will reign together at the Double K, my lovely queen."
Frantically she strove to free herself but without avail. The red mask was before her eyes, the avid lips beneath it seeking her own. She wrenched her head aside and struck with her loose hand. The blow drew an oath from her assailant.
"Damn you," he gritted. "I'll--"
"Let the lady go, right now, if yu wanta live," a steely voice finished.
With a start of surprise, the masked man released his captive and swung round to face the speaker, a cowboy on a black horse. He was spinning a gun by the trigger-guard and appeared to be deeply interested in the operation.
"Who the hell told you to interfere?" Satan exploded.
The cowboy looked at him. "I don't need tellin' to protect a woman from insult," he said.
"There was no question of that," the other snapped. "We are old friends, aren't we, Joan?"
The girl ignored him. "I was very pleased to see you, Green," she said, in a still shaky voice.
"Better head for the ranch, ma'am; I'll take care this hombre don't pester yu no more," Sudden advised. "Yu didn't oughta use this part o' the range--too many varmints about."
"Yes," she agreed, and without a glance at the masked man, rode away.