Not that the speaker needed to give any warning. Even before he yelled out his sage advice, the others had turned and started to run back in the direction from which they came. In his excitement Tommy thumbed off two shots, but failed to make a hit.
Stocker saw his hired help take a Mexican stand-off and painfully dragged himself on to his hands and knees after flattening down to allow his men to shoot without fear of hitting him. Holding his bullet-busted shoulder with his left hand, the rancher prepared to make a dash for safety.
“Hold it right there, Stocker!” Danny barked, coming to his feet and lining the Army Colt. “I won’t tell you twice!”
Knowing that nobody would blame a Texas Ranger for shooting down a cow thief, and not being sure whether Danny would carry out the threat or not Stocker came to a halt. Crashes and the snorting grunts of disturbed horses told the rancher that his men were going fast and that he had no hope of escape.
“All right,” he said. “I’m done.”
“Danny!” yelled a voice from the approaching party. “It’s the Rafter O!”
“Come ahead,” Danny replied.
Bringing his horse to a halt, Stirton pointed off to where the fleeing Stocker hands could be heard. “Want for us to take after them?”
“Nope. They’ll not be back,” Danny answered. “How’d you get here just at the right time?”
“That gal Marty told us you was a Ranger and likely to need help. Say, she reckons she’s Calamity Jane.”
“Don’t you going tell nobody now,” grinned Danny. “But she is Calamity Jane.” He looked around then went on, “Say where is she now?”
“Took off after one of the bunch who cut away across the range. Sent us on in to help you.”
“Stay on here and tend to Stocker, Wally. I’ll go look for her.”
“Is Stocker in on this stealing?” growled the rancher, looking at the suddenly scared, wounded man.
“Up to his dirty li’l neck,” replied Danny.
“Then we’ll hold him for you,” Stirton promised.
Something in the rancher’s voice brought Danny to a halt as he started to turn away from Stirton.
“I want him alive when I get back,” Danny warned. “You hear me?”
“Danged if you aint’ a spoilsport,” grunted Stirton. “He’ll be alive and kicking when you come back.”
Turning, Danny walked to the waiting sabino and swung into the saddle. He looked to where a couple of the Rafter O hands stood over Schatz’s body, one of them holding the bull’s-eye lantern and directing its beam downward. Tommy stood to one side and even in the feeble light Danny could see the pallor of the youngster’s usually tanned cheeks.
“He’s done,” said the hand with the lantern. “Hit straight between his two eyes. Who got him, Tommy?”
“Let’s ride, Tommy,” Danny put in before the youngster could answer.
Tommy raised no argument. One of the Rafter O hands had collected his horse and he swung into the saddle.
“I’ll tend to things here, Ranger,” Stirton called. “Need any of my boys?”
“Reckon me and Tommy ought to be enough,” Danny replied. “Fix Stocker’s wing and put out some guards in case his boys come back to try and pry him free.”
For a time Danny and Tommy rode in silence. Danny looked sideways at Tommy and guessed how the youngster must feel.
“It’s never easy, killing a man, Tommy,” he said.
“It sure ain’t,” agreed Tommy. “I felt like fetching up, only I didn’t want Rafter O to see me do it.”
“There’s no shame in it. Only remember this. It was him or you. He sure as hell aimed to kill you and you’d every right to stop him any way you could.”
“Yeah,” answered Tommy and gave a shuddering sigh. Then he threw off the feeling of nausea. “Say, how do we find Calamity?”
“Just ride on for a spell, then stop and listen some.”
Following Danny’s plan, they rode on for about half a mile before halting their horses and sitting in silence. Only the ordinary night noises came to their ears and after a few seconds Danny started his sabino moving again.
“Which’s the shortest way back to town, Tommy?” he asked.
“Over that ways,” Tommy answered, pointing to the right.
Swinging their horses in the desired direction, the two young men continued their ride. Ten minutes passed and Danny brought his sabino to a halt again. This time he heard something, so did Tommy.
“What the hell?” Tommy asked, listening to the screams, squeals and scuffling noises that came faintly to their ears.
“Reckon ole Calam done caught up with Ella Watson and just couldn’t resist temptation,” Danny replied. “Let’s go take a look.”
When Ella Watson saw the approaching Rafter O hands even though she did not recognize them as such, she knew her reign as boss of the Caspar County cow thieves had come to an end. From the number of shots and the shouted conversation between Danny Forgrave—or Fog, whichever it might be—and Stocker, she figured that the attempt at killing the Ranger had failed. So she decided to pull out, make a fast ride to town, empty her safe and be well clear of Caspar before the posse could return with news of Stocker’s capture.
A yell from the posse told Ella she had been seen and one of the riders spun out of the group to give chase. Ella urged her horse to a gallop, yet she doubted if the animal could outrun her pursuer’s mount. Hearing the yell Stirton let to warn Danny of his coming, Ella knew she did not have a chance in a race. The Rafter O specialized in breeding good horses, while her own mount had been selected more for its gentle qualities and steadiness rather than speed.
After half a mile of riding Ella swung her mount in the direction of the distant town and safety. Although still ahead of her pursuer, she figured it would not be long before they came together. Yet she did not wish to kill the one following. With Gooch it had been different. Then she fled before a wanton murderous bounty hunter and her life would have been forfeit if she fell into his hands. So she decided to use her trick merely to draw her pursuer in close. Then she would take his horse, leaving him afoot and unable to interfere, ride relay with it and her mount, make better time to town and have a longer start on the posse.
Having made her decision, Ella unbuttoned the shirt and pulled it open to expose her naked breasts. With bait like that any cowhand would walk straight into her trap and fall easy prey to her.
Twisting around in her saddle, Ella glanced back at the other rider. At the distance separating them she could not distinguish the other, or recognize him. It was not Danny For—Fog, of that she felt sure. However, he might prove too smart to fall for her trick. Probably the rider was one of Stirton’s younger hands trying to make a name for himself. If so, he ought to be easy to handle.
Ella’s horse slid down a gentle slope and as it reached the open ground at the bottom she reined it in. Before the pursuer came into view, Ella slid out of her saddle, dropping to the ground and lying flat on her back. She tossed the hat aside with her left hand, allowing her hair to hang over her face. With the right she took out her Derringer and held it concealed. From above came the sound of the other horse, then the noise ended and she knew the rider had halted. She figured he could not see enough yet, but would come in closer.
For a few seconds nothing happened. Ella lay still, hardly daring to breathe in case she scared the other rider into shooting in panic. A faint scuffling sound came to her ears as the other started to come down the slope. Any second now he ought to come close en——
“It won’t work this time, Ella, gal,” said a voice.
Shock ripped into Ella at the words, for she saw the failure of her plan. No man addressed her, but the voice sounded mighty like that of the girl she knew as Marty Connelly. Somehow, Ella could not think how, the girl must have escaped from the Cattle Queen, gathered a posse and ridden to Danny’s aid. Cold fury gripped Ella and she tensed to roll over with a roaring Derringer in her hand. Even as the thought came to her, Ella heard the low click of a Colt coming to full cock.