"Ain't afeard I'll run off with her?" Sark sneered.
"You wouldn't git far," was the reply, and the rancher realized why the bandit leader was alone. He grinned to himself as he went up; his men were "around" too.
Mary Gray had lain down in her clothes, and the rasp of the lock awoke her instantly. She stood up, trying to pierce the darkness. Then a familiar voice said:
"Don't be frightened, Mary; it is Jesse." He stepped in, lighted the candle, and looked round. "A filthy hole," he commented. "Well, I'm here to take you out of it. On'y got the news this afternoon, an' I had to raise the money."
"Money?" she repeated.
He handed her the note he had received. "Jake values you at four thousand; I wouldn't part with you for ten times that." She read it, trying to fathom what lay behind this amazing situation : one of the two men she most detested and feared holding her to ransom, and the other paying it.
"Let us go then," she said quietly.
Sark laughed. "It ain't all that easy," he replied. "I gotta settle with Jake first--an' with you."
"With me?" she cried.
"Shore," he said eagerly. "you know what I want, Mary --allus have wanted. We can ride to Drywash from here, git hitched, an' you'll be mistress o' the Dumb-bell again."
"Is that part of the price Mullins is demanding?" Sark seized on the suggestion. "In fact, it is," he lied. "I didn't wanta speak o' that. Jake's a queer chap. He thinks Amos treated you shabby, an' this is his way o' puttin' things right. I guess he's soft on you hisself."
"But he is willing to part with me for four thousand dollars. Well, I refuse to be sold."
"You ain't considered that letter very careful," Sark protested. "Up to now these fellas have behaved decent because they expected to make money out'n you. Take that chance away an' . . ."
"They will kill me?"
"No, but you'll live to wish they had," was the brutal reply. "If yo're relyin' on a rescue, Green an' Masters are both dead, an' nobody in Welcome knows where you are." She knew he was lying--Dave was alive and coming back to her. She must gain time.
"I won't leave without my child," she said.
"That's talkin'," Sark replied. "Fair enough too. I'll go get him." He hurried downstairs. "She won't budge without the brat," he told Jake, who had looked up expectantly. "Where is he?"
"In Welcome, likely; we couldn't be bothered with a baby. She thought we had it, an' that was all the whip we needed."
"Damnation! You've bungled it, as usual," Sark raged. "Didn't I tell you "
"Since when do I have to take orders from you?" Mullins broke in. "If you don't want the woman, I dessay Welcome will raise the ransom; them ground-owls think a lot of her." The rancher scowled, mentally promising to teach the insolent fool a lesson presently. "Got any ideas?" he inquired.
"Plenty. Tell her the kid won't be returned until she's tied to you, an' if that don't work, hawg-tie an' carry her off; gives her a choice of knots," Mullins finished with a laugh.
Sark returned to the waiting girl. "Jake won't hand over the child until we're married," he said. "I argued, but he won't listen." She knew now that Dave had told her the truth--the boy was safe. The knowledge stiffened her resolution.
"Then I shall remain here," she said.
Her obstinacy, and beauty, roused a devil of anger in his breast. Two quick strides and he had gripped her shoulders, bruising the flesh with the intensity of his grasp. His fierce face, aflame with desire, was thrust towards her own, the hot eyes scorching her.
Eyes distended in dread, she fought to free herself, but the relentless clutch paralysed her muscles. She tried to scream, but the sound died in her dry throat.
"Mine," he muttered hoarsely. "Mine, right now " Quick steps outside, the door was flung open, and Jake came in. One swift glance brought an oath.
"Hell, Sark, this ain't no time for foolishness," he said, an underlying threat in his tone. "I want a word with you, pronto." The cattleman flung his captive away so violently that she fell. Without even a look at the prostrate form he followed Jake outside.
"Damn you," he said. "Can't a fella kiss his bride without you buttin' in? What's eatin' you?"
"I've just had news that a party of over a dozen armed men under Nippen is headin' for here."
"Well, you ain't scared of a passel o' blunderin' tradesmen, are you?"
"Not so as you'd notice, but there's some can throw lead, an' the marshal is showin' the way." This wiped the scorn from Sark's face. "The marshal?" he queried. "But he's--dead."
"Then he must have a twin. Galt seen him, an' he's got good reason to know the gent. What bothers me is how he got wise to this place, an' where's the Bar O?"
"They figured on on'y havin' yore lot to deal with," Sark suggested. "That was a miscalculation---my boys are handy. I'll call them." He took a whistle from his vest pocket as Jake whirledon him. "So that was yore idea, huh?" the rustler cried. "To git away with the gal an' the gold." His revolver leapt out. "Hand over tha four thousand or I'll send yore sneakin' soul to torment." Sark was cornered, and knew it. He reached into a pocket, produced and passed over a big roll of bills which the other stowed away with a scornful grin.
"You can summon yore men," he said, "but I'm stayin' near you an' at the first sign o' crooked work, out goes yore light. Sahe?" The rancher blew a shrill blast before he replied. "No call for me to remain here," he then remarked. "I've kept my side of the bargain, even to payin' you double the agreed sum--a dirty trick on yore part. I shall take the woman an' set off at once."
"You don't say," was the ironical rejoinder. "Listen, my friend : you got me into this, an' yo're goin' to git me out; with yore riders we can stand 'em off. If I'm catched, I'll take the hobbles off my tongue, an' you know what that means--for you. Now, I'll tie the gal up, 'case she Bits any rash ideas." He went in, replaced the bonds, lifted and laid her on the bed. "Likely there's a ruckus comin' an' lead will fly; you'll be wise to lie still." The two men went downstairs, where they found the cowboys fraternizing with the bandits.
The rancher raised a hand for silence. "Boys, that swine of a marshal from Welcome is on the way to clean up this joint. I guess we'll all have a word to say about that, huh?" A rumbling growl of assent answered him. "Good, our other business here can wait till we've sent him an' his jackrabbits back to their holes. Keep under cover, shoot straight, an' remember, it's them or us." With oaths and extravagant threats they turned away to take up their positions. Jake gave orders, but his thoughts were on something else--that reference to "other business." He had no doubt the attacking force would be beaten off, but--what then? The Dumb-bell men outnumbered his own and their leader would be in a position to dictate terms, which would most certainly include the return of the ransom.
"No use crossin' a river till you reach it," he reflected, but at the back of his tortuous mind a plan was taking shape.
Chapter XX
DAWN had come, and a grey light was creeping over the sky, putting out the stars and bringing a chill wind when the marshal encountered the Welcome contingent, its strength almost doubled by nearly every man of the Bar O outfit. They forgathered on the fringe of the forested foothills, and halted to arrange the advance.
"What do you suggest, Jim?" Nippert asked.
"There's two ways o' gettin' to the hang-out, an' I'm proposin' we split up an' use 'em both. The second party will arrive after the first has opened the ball, an' attackin' from the rear, should be a surprise for 'em."
"That's sound reasonin'," John Owen agreed. "The Bar O will take care o' the second trail, an' we won't be long after you, Jim." So it was decided. The marshal, Dave, and the Welcome men began at once the ascent of the mountain-side, while the cowboys sped away in search of the other approach.