'I don't know what they will do,' Hal replied. 'They won't have a great deal of time before my boys come over from the M K. But there will be more shooting. The best thing you can do, Susie, is to persuade your mistress to go down with you into the cellar until reinforcements come.'
'He's right, Miss Dale,' Casey agreed. 'We can stand them off all right till help comes. You've done your share — and more. I'd get down where it is safe if I were you.'
Dale shook her head decisively. 'No. Susie can go down. I think she ought to go. But my place is here.'
Hal moved with her to the far corner of the big living room. 'Aren't you being stubborn?' he asked in a low voice. 'If we are attacked, Casey and I will be worried all the time for fear you get hurt. After all, this is my fight. These scoundrels are here to get me. You're not in it.'
Looking at him, the girl felt herself torn by conflicting emotions. She was shaken by the knowledge of the strange drag flowing from him to her that implied a closeness between them startling and frightening, a weakness in her born of agitation, of the conviction that she was utterly his to take or to fling away. But with this was blended anger. He said this was his fight and he did not want her in it. Yet only a few minutes ago she had driven down into the pasture to rescue him from almost certain death. He brushed away obligations as if they did not exist. She was just a meddling woman, to be put in her place.
'Isn't it my fight when they are attacking my house?' she asked, her eyes bright and hard. 'If you didn't want me in it, why did you bring them here?'
He smiled wryly. 'We haven't time for a good quarrel now. Look at it this way, Miss Lovell. You saved my life a few minutes ago at the risk of yore own. I ought never to have come here. How do you think I would feel if you get shot when there is no need of it?'
In spite of herself, she felt her anger leaving. 'You're a fine one to talk about being cautious,' she jeered. 'After going up into the den where these wolves hole-up, leaving all your friends to worry about whether you are dead or alive. I should think you would be ashamed of yourself.'
'I am,' he confessed, with the friendly grin that mitigated his audacities. 'I'm ashamed of having flunked the job. My idea was to get Mullins alone and bring him down for Elbert to quiz. I thought and still think he will turn state's evidence to save himself. But I didn't expect to stir up such a hornets' nest.'
'You never do,' Dale said dryly.
'No. So I come running to you to save me. You have done that. Later I'll have time to say thanks. As Casey says, it's up to him and me to stand off these fellows. Stay up here, and you'll make it harder for us.'
Outside, a rifle coughed. The bullet struck a window and left a small round hole in it.
Dale said quickly, 'If I'm in the way, I'll go down into the cellar.' She wanted to tell him to be careful, but there was no use in that, any more than there was in this wild emotion that swept away her strength and will, that left her weak and flaccid in his presence.
'They're spreading out,' Casey reported. 'One of us had better make a round of the windows.'
'I'll go,' Hal agreed. He called to Dale, as she followed Susie down the stairs into the basement: 'Adios, compadre. Don't worry about us. The boys from the M K will be here soon.'
Hal made a tour of the first floor, stopping at each window for a careful inspection of the terrain in front. He caught sight of a man slipping back of the garage. At once he fired, with no intention of hitting the fellow, but to let the enemy know the defenders were on the alert.
Bullets spattered against the walls of the house. Somebody was tinkering with the car in the garage, perhaps trying to turn on the ignition without a key. Presently he gave it up, called something to a companion, and walked to the group of horses tied to a rack at the corral. He mounted one, waved a hand, and went down the valley road at a canter. It was an easy guess that he was going to telephone for reinforcements. Now that the wire had been cut, the hill men did not worry about help for the besieged. After a time the Seven Up and Down punchers would ride home, to find themselves prisoners. Probably they would be held under guard until Hal Stevens had been rubbed out. No doubt that was the plan.
Except for an occasional shot, the firing died down. The outlaws evidently felt they had the situation in hand and did not intend to take chances. This Fabian policy suited the men in the ranch house, since it could not be many minutes before aid arrived from the M K. When Wall and the others got here, the outlaws would be outnumbered. Evidently Fenwick had picked up one man on the way down, but he had been in too great a hurry to cut off the retreat of Stevens to stop for more.
CHAPTER 37
Decorative and Efficient
WALL SLAMMED the receiver back on the hook and ran out to the porch. His voice lifted to a shout. 'Hi, Mr. Arnold —Bill —Mike! Trouble at the Seven Up. We've got to jump.'
They came running toward Wall — Arnold from his cabin, Mike from the horse he was saddling, Bill Nuney and Carlos Vallejo from the corral. Swiftly Wall explained. Miss Dale had called. Stevens was at her ranch and a lot of his enemies were outside ready to attack. That was all he knew.
'Sure it was Miss Lovell talking?' Arnold asked.
'Yes. I'd know her voice anywhere. We'll take the station wagon. Better leave a note for the other boys to join us when they drift in, Mike. Too bad there's only one rifle here, but that will have to do.' Wall swung round sharply on Nuney. 'You and Carlos sitting in with us, Bill —or not?'
Bill's eyes asked a question of Carlos. He knew what he was going to do. The Mexican nodded. Nuney said, annoyed at the query, 'Hell, yes!'
They got their weapons, piled into the station wagon, and started down the hill to the valley.
'Did Miss Lovell say how many of Black's men are there — or how they are armed?' Arnold wanted to know.
'She didn't say a thing more than I told you,' Wall replied.
'If they have rifles, they can keep us from getting close,' Mike said. 'Unless we barge ahead anyhow.'
'Any hill road leading to the ranch from the rear?' Arnold inquired.
'Not one we can strike from here.' Wall grinned. 'Only thing to do is pound right up the hill — and pray.'
They decided to stop for a few moments at the brow of the mesa on which the ranch house stood and let Nuney pump the rifle as fast as he could, to give the impression that several weapons were in action, after which they would make a run in the car for the house.
As soon as they reached the paved valley road, Mike put his foot down and set the station wagon racing. They were doing better than ninety when they swept past a wagon loaded with hay. Just beyond a curve an old Mexican driving a ramshackle outfit drew aside hurriedly to let the car thunder past. 'Mother of God!' he cried in Spanish, and wondered what kind of liquor the mad Americanos had been drinking.
Mike slackened to take the side road for the Seven Up and Down. A man on horseback drew aside to miss being hit. Nuney recognized him, a boy named Rusty Peters who worked for Black.
On the brow of the mesa a stone's throw from the house, Mike braked. The crack of a gun sounded. It came from a front window of the house. A man crouched back of the tool shed answered it. Around the corner of the stable the head of Cash Polk craned to check up the situation. Nuney took a quick shot at it. The head was hurriedly withdrawn.
'It's Doc back of the shed,' Vallejo said.
Nuney pumped two bullets at the man. He gave a yelp and started to run, disappearing back of the building.
A moment later he could be seen running for the stable. From the way he moved, it was plain he had been hit. Nuney raised his rifle. Vallejo leaned forward, his shoulder jolting against his friend's elbow. The shot went wild. Bill Nuney grinned. He had not intended to kill Doc, though if his rifle had covered Brick Fenwick, he would not have hesitated an instant.