Quilt laid the limp form gently on the floor, and placed his hat over the staring, lifeless eyes. Drait led the girl away. `Was that true--about Cullin?' she whispered.
`Yeah, a man don't lie at such a moment,' he replied. `Get some rest; it's a long ride back.'
She was glad to be alone. Seated in her late prison, she strove to reconstruct her disrupted world. Cullin, her one friend--as she had believed--was a heartless, brutal murderer. She could not doubt it. And if she had been wrong there, had she erred in other judgments? What did it all mean? She could find no answer. Voices broke in.
`Glad yo're back, Jim,' she heard her husband say. `What about Bull?'
`He got away.'
`So did some o' his men, Lanty among 'em,' Drait grumbled. `We've three to plant, an' Frayle has a busted arm. No, we've been lucky--a few grazes.'
At the end of an hour, preparations for departure were complete, graves dug and filled, mounts found for the lady and prisoner. The nester decided to strike south-cast for Shadow Valley, which would cut down the distance considerably. He and Sudden led the way, with Mary and Yorky following, and the others, shepherding Frayle, oehind. All were too tired to talk, and even Yorky lost his loquacity.
It was dark when at length they reached the Valley to find Lindy awaiting them. The S P without her mistress had proved too much, and she had prevailed on Milton to drive her over, to a greater loneliness. She received them with voluble expressions of delight, but her chief concern seemed to be the state of the kitchen.
`Yoh'd sca'cely b'lieve, honey, a passel o' men
`We're tuckered out an' hungry, woman; get some grub,' Drait said brusquely. He looked at Mary. `You'll stay here tonight.'
He was gone before she could reply, and she smiled a little; that was his way. But she wanted to thank him, and since the moment he smashed the door of her prison, he had given her no opportunity. Was he purposely avoiding her? The thought was curiously disturbing. Sitting in the parlour, she waited for his return. She heard Sudden speaking to Lindy and called him in.
`Where is--Mister Drait?' she asked.
`Well on the road to Midway, by this. Didn't he tell yu?' Sudden replied. He saw she did not understand, and went on to tell of the arrest and suosequent escape, passing lightly over his own part in the latter. She listened with mounting colour, and then cried indignantly :
`You let him go?'
He smothered a smile. `Nick is full-growed, an' when he decides on somethin' he's mighty liable to do it. About yore cattle...'
`Oh, damn the cattle,' she burst out, and then, `I'm sorry. You were saying?'
`He didn't steal 'em, on'y got 'em back from the fella who did, an' fetched the herd here for safety, an' meanin' to surprise Yu-
'Then you and Yorky did find them?'
Sudden's grin was entirely unrepentant. `Yeah, but it would 'a' spoiled Nick's plan to let on.'
`I still don't see any reason for returning to prison.'`He has to face the music. To run would admit guilt.' `I see that now,' she said. `Who is bringing the charge?' `The sheriff, backed by Cullin.'
`But surely, what you have discovered about the wretch....' She paused as the puncher shook his head.
`Rustlin' is a capital crime in a cattle country,' he told her. `What Cullin is, or has done, won't explain away yore steers in Shadow Valley.'
`But there is an explanation,' she persisted. `His men--' `are accomplices,' he reminded. `Besides, they'd be expected to swear black was white to get their boss outa trouble, an' they would.'
`What had kidnapping me to do with it?'
`They feared yu might 'a' stood up for him.'
`Might?' she repeated. `Of course I would--and will. When does this infamous trial take place?'
`In the mornin', I'd say; they won't lose time. We'll all be there.' Then, inconsequently, `Nick's a real fella, but terrible unseein'--times.'
His kind but probing gaze confused her. `Thank you, Jim,' she murmured. `We must save him.'
`Shore we will,' he replied. `Mebbe we got a card they don't know about.'
The silver light of the moon which softened the crudities of Midway, only revealed the identity of the late visitor as he rode nonchalantly along the one street. Citizens stood still, stared, and rubbed their eyes in disbelief. The prisoner who had effected a sensational escape from the calaboose was the last person they dreamed of seeing. To a man they followed dumbly, and when--indifferent to the excitement he was causing--he got down at Merker's and stopped in, they crowded after him. Within, the paralysing amazement was repeated, and the saloonkeeper, who was serving a customer, nearly dropped the bottle.
`Goda'mighty, Nick, are you mad?' he asked, as the nester ranged himself at the bar.
`No, on'y thirsty.' He helped himself. `Where's Stinker?' `Just comin' in,' was the disgusted reply.
The sheriff was pushing his way importantly through the throng, gun out, and an unholy expression of joy on his face. `So it's true,' he muttered, for he had doubted the news. `Stick 'em up, Drait.'
The nester laughed. `Cut out the play-actin', Stinker. I'm not heeled an' came to find you. I want five hundred bucks.' The sheriff's bloodshot eyes bulged. 'Whaffor?' he asked.
`Bringin' myself in--alive, which is a disappointment, I know, but it had to be that way. Who put up that reward--the town or--Cullin?'
`None o' yore business,' Camort growled uneasily.
Pilch pounced on him. `Mebbe, out it's our business if yo're spendin' money to git back prisoners you've let go, an' we wanta know.'
The sheriff was cornered, and knew it. `It warn't town money,' he admitted sullenly. `A private citizen, who don't want to be named--'
`Cullin's modesty is well known,' the nester broke in.
The sheriff flared up. `You oughta talk, robbin' a young gal under cover o' purtendin' to help her.'
This time he scored, and Nick was aware of hard looks. He clenched his fists in an effort to fight down the fury surging within him. Then he spoke :
`Stinker, if I didn't know yo're just achin' for an excuse to pour lead into me, I'd shake yore teeth out an' cram yore lyin' tongue down yore throat,' he said. `Now, I've had a busy day, an' need sleep.'
The officer reluctantly emptied his glass and signed to his deputies. `If he flaps a wing, drill him, good an' plenty,' he ordered.
`I'll come an' tuck you up, Nick,' Pilch grinned, and to the sheriff. `If there's any funny business, you'll be tried in the mornin'--by yore Maker.'
Having seen the prisoner duly incarcerated, and posted guards at door and window, Camort called on the Judge, who was--surprisingly at that hour--sober. He listened to the news with a dubious air.
`Surrendered after getting clear away. He must have an answer to the charge.'
`It's yore affair to see he don't have any such thing,' the sheriff said. `Cullin--
The Judge held up a hand. `Listen: my affair is to administer the Law. Cullin, to me, is just another man, and I'm weary of his name; don't mention it again.'
The visitor gaped; decidedly the Judge was sober, dangerously so. `I thought' he began.
`Don't over-tax my credulity,' Towler said cuttingly. `I will hear the case in the morning, and hope the accused will not be missing.' Camort told of his precautions. `Better have someone to watch over your own slumbers,' came the acid comment. `The girl will be absent.'
`That's so.' `Unavoidably detained, one might say.'
The other agreed, and came away somewhat perturbed. He comforted himself with the reflection that Cullin would soon bring him to heel.
Chapter XXII
THE court-room was filling rapidly when the Shadow Valley party arrived. The hum of conversation increased as they marched up the middle gangway, and many glances of admiration were directed to the girl. Pale, out with head high, she appeared indifferent to the interest their entry occasioned. When they reached the front row of seats, which was empty, Wall-eye came bustling up.