The man shot a sly glance at his questioner. "Never heard of him," he said.
"A pore liar too. How did Sark get hold o' yu?"
"I was busted an' went to him for a job."
"An' fell down on it. But don't yu fret, yore future is provided for. Come to think of it, yo're lucky to have one, for if I didn't happen to be the marshal . . ." Squint shivered; he knew that it was true; this man whom he had treacherously sought to slay had every right to put a period to his existence.
Chapter XVI
IT was late when the marshal and his prisoner arrived at Welcome to find it unusually awake for that hour. Lights were shining in almost every building. Sloppy's face, when he saw them ride in, expressed both relief and anxiety.
"Thank heaven you're back," he cried. "There's bad news an' we duuno what to do."
"Bad news'll keep," Sudden replied. "Shove this hombre in the calaboose, feed and fix him up, an' don't forget to lock the door."
"But, Jim "
"Fly at it. I'm bone-tired, but I guess I can stagger to the Red Light; Ned'll wise me up." The saloon was busy, but there was a difference; men drank, but no games were taking place, the customers standing around in groups, conversing with unwonted seriousness. He made his way to the bar, where Nippert was deep in a discussion with Gowdy, Rapper, and others.
"What's the excitement?" he inquired.
"Thunderin' glad to see you, Jim," the saloon-keeper greeted. "Ain't you heard?"
"I've on'y just got in," Sudden explained. "Sloppy tried to tell me somethin', but I wouldn't let him."
"Mrs. Gray has disappeared." The marshal stared at him. "Disappeared?" he repeated.
"Well, this mornin'--as usual--Miss Chips goes along to the Widow's, raps at the back door, an' there's no an Awer. She can hear the kid cryin' inside, so she keeps on hammerin'. After a bit, she gits scared somethin' is wrong an' fetches Chips. He busts the lock an' they go in. There ain't a sign o' Mrs. Gray, but the bedroom looks like she'd dressed in a hurry. I've had search-parties out all day but they ain't struck a trace of her. She didn't own a hoss, none is missin', an' she couldn't 'a' got far a-foot. What d'you make of it, Jim?"
"Can't say--yet. Where's Dave?"
"He's gone too," Nippert replied. "Soon as he got the news, he saddles his bronc, an'--judgin' by his face--it'll go hard with anybody who gits in his way. Dunno where he was makin' for, but he went west, an' was in a hurry to git there; I never seen a pony's legs move faster."
"Well, we can't do anythin' to-night," the marshal decided. "Better hit the hay--to-morrow may be a long day." He was turning away when the saloon-keeper stayed him. "Any luck at Bentley?"
"Plenty, but we gotta get Mrs. Gray back before I spill it."
"Who's the jasper you fetched in?"
"Fella called Squint. We had a li'l argument 'bout ten mile out; he wanted to down me, but I persuaded him agin it. Sloppy is patchin' him, an' I reckon he'll recover."
"He ain't done yore lid no good, an' from the position o' the holes, he loosed at you from behind," Rapper remarked.
"Shore he did," the marshal replied airily. "Squint holds that bushwhackers should be heard an' not seen."
"But why was he after you?" Nippert queried.
"Oh, he mistook me for five hundred bucks. Yu see, he was broke, an' when Sark offered just that sum for my scalp . .." Ejaculations of anger followed this revelation. "Sark did that?" Rapper exploded. "Don't we have anythin' to say about it?"
"Yeah, at the right time, but that's not yet," he was told.
When the marshal encountered Sloppy in the morning, he put a question: "Did yu ever see Sark before he turned up to claim the Dumb-bell?"
"No, he was a stranger to me."
"Would he be known in Drywash?"
"Never heard of him bein' there," Sloppy replied, and as though anxious to change the subject, "Jim, what d'you figure has happened to Mary--I mean, Mrs. Gray? I on'y use her front name to myself--she's like a daughter to me."
"I dunno, or-timer, but we'll find an' fetch her back," the marshal said heartily.
"S'pose you got what you went to Bentley for?" the little man ventured. "You allus git what you want, don't you, Jim?"
"I do not," Sudden laughed. "I'm needin' breakfast right now, an' it don't look like I'll get any." Half an hour later he was studying the ground outside the rear of the restaurant. There were footprints in plenty, but presently he picked out those of a woman and several men which led back from the building towards the open plain. These brought him to a spot where horses had waited --the deep dents of pawing hoofs were clear. For a short distance he followed them, but soon they were merged in a multitude of tracks on the road eastwards. He returned to the Red Light.
"She's been carried off," he announced. "Five fellas, I'd say, with a spare hoss. They was pointin' for the sunrise when I lost the trail, but that means nothin' a-tall."
"Someone must 'a' had a key to the door--it warn't damaged till Chips forced it," Nippert opined.
The blacksmith swore. "I got that lock for Jake, an' it had two keys," he said. "He might 'a' forgot to hand 'em both over."
"An' he was stuck on Mrs. Gray too," Cleaver contributed. The marshal's prediction had come to pass--the Widow was now his best customer, and her absence a matter of concern.
"So was Jesse Sark," the banker said.
"He wouldn't have the key, nor the pluck to make a play like that," was Gowdy's view.
"Well, boys, this ain't gettin' us no place," Sudden told them. "My guess is Mullins, an' I'm goin' to try an' locate him. I've a notion Dave thought the same, an' his not showin' up looks bad. No, I'm playin' a lone hand; if I discover any-thin', yore turn'll come." Despite the protestations, he insisted on this, and having made his preparations, departed.
The deputy-marshal's first reaction to the Widow's spiriting away was a feeling of numb despair as he suddenly realized what she had come to mean in his life. Hoping against hope, he hurried to the restaurant, found the tell-tale traces, and knew that she had been compelled to leave.
"Who the hell?" he muttered.
The remainder of the query died as he saw again a pale, frightened face, bent back in a desperate effort to evade the lustful lips seeking her own. Sark! His young face hard as granite, he hastened back to the corral and saddled his pony. Sloppy spoke but got no answer. Astounded citizens saw him drive madly up the street. Nip-pert shouted a question and got a reply he did not act upon. Instead, he went into the marshal's quarters.
"Where's Dave gone?"
"In the head, I reckon," Sloppy told him. "I asked, but he acted as if I warn't here. What can we do?"
"Nothin' but comb the country. I've sent for the Bar O boys. Damnation, I wish Jim was around." Meanwhile, Masters was rocketing towards the Dumbbell as fast as his horse could throw one leg in front of another.
Nevertheless, he did not allow anger to deprive him entirely of caution. He was about to beard, in his own den, an unscrupulous scoundrel who had at least a dozen riders in his pay. To be shot down would not help Mary Gray, and therefore he must tread warily. So, when nearing his objective, he turned from the beaten track and plunged into a stretch of timber which would enable him to approach unseen. With but a few hundred yards to go, he halted at a spot where he had a clear view of the ranch buildings, and waited.
Presently, whoops and yells, mingled with the shrill calls of horses, apprised him that the men were getting ready for the day's work. Soon they appeared, in twos and threes, to ride away in various directions. Dave counted a dozen, but decided to play safe. When twenty more minutes had passed, impatience overcame discretion.
"Reckon that's the lot. Anyways, a shade of odds don't scare me none." Leaving his pony within easy reach of the ranch-house, he stole up, took a quick look through the glass door leading to the living-room, and choked down a cry of contentment; the man he sought was there, alone, sitting with his back towards him, the remains of a meal on the table. Softly he turned the handle of the door, and finding it unfastened, slipped inside.