"All right, dad," she replied through her sobs, "and we have no one to thank for that but Bruce—Mr. Marvel."
The older man's face hardened, but the girl did not see it for hers was buried upon his shoulder. "I know all about that, dear," he said. "Now you go to your room and get some rest and I will talk with Mr. Marvel."
She turned and smiled through her tears at Bruce. "I haven't thanked you yet," she said, "but sometime I am going to try."
"Never you mind the thanks," he said; "you get to bed."
When she had gone, White descended the veranda steps and faced Marvel. "Blaine is back," he said.
"I reckoned as much," said Marvel. "Where is he?"
"He told the whole story," said White. "I ought to kill you, Marvel; but you brought her back unharmed, and I owe you something for that. I am going to give you a chance to get away. The sheriff is on his way here now. You get on yours and I'll tell him that I do not intend to prosecute."
Marvel looked at the older man for a moment. "I sure would have known that Blaine was back," he said, "even if you hadn't told me. I aint goin' to try to tell you nuthin', Mr. White, except that you are all wrong. I thank you for what you think you're tryin' to do for me, but I'm not goin' away. Kay knows the truth, and you will know it after you have listened to her. I had nuthin' to do with her abduction."
"It's no use, Marvel," replied White. "Blaine's story was too circumstantial."
Olga Gunderstrom came onto the veranda as Marvel shook his head and was about to turn away. As their eyes met the girl stopped and hers went wide. "Buck Mason!" she exclaimed.
"Olga!" cried the man, and started up the steps toward her.
"Don't come near me, you murderer," she cried.
"I had to shoot 'em both in self defense, Olga," he said. "Bryam was shootin' at me with a thirty-thirty and the other feller tried to draw after I had him covered."
"I don't mean those two," she said. "You know who I mean."
"Olga!" he cried. "I couldn't guess that you'd believe that about me. I heard that story, too; but I knew that you would know that I never done it."
She shuddered. "I know your kind," she said icily; "no refinement, no instincts of decency, just a common brute, who can think of nothing else but to kill."
He looked at her in bitter silence for a long moment. Pain, disillusionment, sorrow made a raging chaos of his brain; but at last the only outward expression of what was passing within was the reflection of the sorrow that lay deep in his eyes. Then he turned away, hesitated and turned back toward John White.
"I'll turn this feller over to you, sir," he said, indicating Eddie with a gesture. "Hold him until the sheriff comes."
"I told you I was not going to prosecute," said White.
"But I am," said Mason. "I am a deputy sheriff and I deputize you to take custody of this prisoner;" and then he turned and walked away, leading the four horses toward the corral.
"Don't let him get away, Mr. White," cried Olga. "Do something. Don't let him getaway."
"What can I do?" asked White with a shrug. "He is a known killer; and he's carrying two guns, while I am unarmed."
In her room Kay White was troubled. There had been something in the way that her father had listened to her praise of Marvel that had seemed cold and austere. Perhaps it was a woman's intuition that all was not right that brought her out onto the veranda while Olga was pleading with her father.
"I tell you something must be done," cried Olga. "He must not be permitted to escape."
"I have telephoned the sheriff," replied White. "He is on his way here now."
"That will be too late," replied the girl. "He may get away, and then we may never be able to catch him again."
"Who?" demanded Kay. "Who may get away?"
"Buck Mason, the murderer of my father," replied Olga.
"Buck Mason!" exclaimed Kay. "Who is he?"
White pointed toward Marvel who was leading the horses into the corral. "He is Buck Mason," he replied.
––––––––
XXII
"YOU'RE UNDER ARREST"
KAY WHITE stood for a moment looking at the man unsaddling the horses in the corral. "Buck Mason," she murmured, and then turning to Olga, "He may be Buck Mason," she said; "but no one can ever make me believe that he is a murderer."
"It is immaterial to me what you believe," snapped Olga; "and if your father won't arrest him, Cory Blaine will." As she spoke she started down the veranda steps and walked rapidly toward the bunkhouse.
Kay White followed her. "Don't," she cried. "You don't know what you are doing. They will kill him. They want to kill him. All they want is the excuse."
"I pray to God that they will kill him," said Olga, "for he killed my father."
As Olga hurried on toward the bunkhouse, Kay White broke into a run and, passing her, hastened to the corral, where Mason was just turning the horses into pasture. As he fastened the gate and turned back he saw her.
"I thought I told you to go to bed," he said.
"Oh, Bruce," she cried. "Hurry and get away from here. That girl, I suppose she is Miss Gunderstrom from what she said, has gone to get Cory Blaine to arrest you."
"Why should I run away, Kay?" he asked. "Don't tell me that you think I done it."
"Oh, I don't care whether you did or not. I don't want them to kill you, and I know that they will kill you. They won't give you a chance, Bruce."
"It's worth being killed a dozen times for, Kay, to hear you say that," he said; "but don't you worry. You get back to the house quick in case there's goin' to be any shootin'. I can take care of myself, now that you've warned me."
Breathlessly, Olga Gunderstrom broke into the bunkhouse. Butts was sitting on the edge of his bunk rolling a cigarette, and Blaine was already stretched out on his asleep.
"Buck Mason is here," she cried, "the man who murdered my father." Blaine sat upon his bunk.
"What's that?" he demanded.
"The man who murdered my father is here," she cried, "and there's five thousand dollars reward for him dead or alive."
"Where is he?" demanded Blaine, leaping to his feet.
The girl pointed through the window to the corral. "There he is," she said.
The two men looked. "My God!" exclaimed Butts. "If it aint the damn dude."
The two men hastily buckled on their cartridge belts and guns. "You beat it back to the house in a hurry, Miss," said Blaine.
"Be careful," said Olga. "He's a dangerous character."
"Shucks," scoffed Butts, as the girl left the bunkhouse and hastened toward the ranch house, "that dude couldn't even hit a tree at fifty feet."
Kay White reached the house a moment after Olga. "What did you do? Did you warn him?" demanded the latter.
"Of course I did," replied Kay.
"Then you ought to be killed, too," cried Olga. "You are as bad as the murderer."
John White, hearing the girls' voices, came from the office where he had deposited Eddie and taken the further precaution of binding the man's ankles together. "Come, Kay," he said. "You girls are both nervous and distraught. Please go to your rooms, both of you. If they try