So he stood before the fireplace, pipe clenched in his teeth, studying his problem. Possession of Jill was no simple matter; he knew he had most of the county officials beneath his thumb and he likewise knew that with the 3Cross crew and the JIB crew—the latter chosen by him through Trono—he could stand off a good sized posse. Even so, it was a dangerous situation. Once a sentiment thoroughly took hold of the country it swept men along at a tremendous rate. If Jill's captivity should become general knowledge it would do nothing but harm to him.
"Trono," he muttered, "was a cursed fool for making this move. He should have taken the girl back to the JIB and held her there. Then nobody could say she was being kidnapped—on her own ranch."
Trono, as it had often turned out before, was the stumbling block. The man was forever doing the wrong thing, the bull-headed thing. Always butting into trouble. Trono didn't know that you could only push a community about so far; after that they rose and wrought destruction.
"Well," he said to himself, "she made a bad bargain when she turned me down. I may look soft but I'll not let her turn me. Gad, I will not! She chooses to take pot luck. All right. I'll use a man's weapons on her. That I will."
Jill, meanwhile, had gone storming to her room with mixed emotions. In the darkness—there seemed to be no lamp—she stood quite still, listening for the lock to turn; but Stubbins had not followed her and she felt more relieved than she could express. Stubbins had made his bid and in doing so had disclosed his mind. Here was another of those men who would stop at no point short of his destination. He used a little bluster, he was quite the suave gentleman when it pleased him; that made him the more formidable. Jill, on tiptoes, went to the window and peeped through the blind. A cigarette tip glowed in the darkness, warning her that she was still guarded.
It heightened her feeling of desperate resistance. Catching hold of the door knob she turned it until the lock clicked ever so slightly. Inch at a time she slipped it open; down the hall the boards glowed from the reflection of the fire in the big room. That way she could not go without crossing Stubbins' vision. The other way, then. Slipping through, she closed the door with equal care and slid into darkness, not knowing where this black alley led. Dishes rattled from the kitchen, a patch of light fell athwart her path, then a draught of air. Luck! She was on the sill of an open door that led into the back yard of the house.
The glowing cigarette tip was just out of range around an elbow of the house. The barn loomed against the sky, a landmark on which she unconsciously set her course. Somewhere she'd find a horse and get clear of this Englishman and his plans. But Red, where was he? Jill, setting her foot into an unexpected hollow, bit her tongue and wistfully wished for the comfort of his presence. Her father had judged right at first sight—Red was a man!
The barn's shadow engulfed her and Jill, fearful that Stubbins might now be discovering her absence, moved faster. She brushed a post, lost her balance in the sharp turn and unexpectedly kicked over a bucket, waking what seemed to her every echo on the ranch. To the right, the bunkhouse door suddenly opened and a figure stood silhouetted in a gush of yellow light. Someone drawled, "That you, Bill?" Hard on this, she heard Stubbins' mealy accent bark across the yard. "Ashbey, where the devil have you been? She's given me the slip! Roust out!"
At that she ran faster, circling the barn, seeing the man spring from the bunkhouse in hot pursuit. She collided against the sharp bars of a corral and said "darn!" in an aggravated, rising tone. She could not turn back, so she started to climb over; but that, too, was fatal. Boots thudded near by and an ungentle hand hauled her down from her perch. "Honey," said a soft, southern voice, "you got spunk, but yore buckin' the wrong brand."
She marched meekly back to the house and into the light of the big room. Stubbins stared at her with a hard, glowering gaze. "Get to your room! Don't try that again, hear! I have men on guard around this house and they're ordered to shoot."
Jill said, malice in her voice, "I told you, Mr. Stubbins, you'd have trouble keeping me. I'll scratch your eyes out yet." She went quickly to her room, this time hearing the key turn. There was another sound, too. Hoofs drummed on the hard ground outside and a man challenged, evoking a rumbling, familiar reply. "Oh, put up yore damn gun. Yuh'd think this was an army. It's me—Trono."
The interview between Trono and Stubbins was very brief, as usual. The two men seemed to find little comfort in each other's company; for all their common crookedness. Trono strode across the room in long, aggressive steps, stopping directly in front of Stubbins.
"Well, you got the girl. Now what you goin' to do with her?"
"That's something you should have considered before you brought her to me," answered Stubbins. "It was a foolish thing to do. Supposing this gets out? Why, I'll have a fight on my hands. You should have left her at the JIB and seen to it she stayed right in the house until she was ready to pack up and leave the country."
"Yeh? Yuh always got a better idea, ain't yuh?" grumbled Trono. "I brought her here because the sher'ff was roamin' around the Valley. Then that damn Red was causin' trouble. We pinned his ears back an' led him to the calaboose fin'lly. But yore the boss, so you tell me what yore goin' to do."
"Mean to say the fellow is in jail? Oh, the devil! Now he'll spread the story and stir the county. My Godfrey, why didn't you put him out of the way?"
Trono took the rebuke with ill grace. "Say, do yuh think I'm Jesse James? I been havin' plenty o' trouble the last thirty-six hours. Now I'm sharin' some o' it with you. It's yore job, anyhow. You jes' mix in an' do a few licks yoreself. As fer the red-head, the sher'ff got him booked fer kidnappin'. I think he'll have a hard time."
"Kidnappin'? Hm. That sounds interestin'" Stubbins studied his ally. "He ought to be put out of the way, my lad. He's a dangerous critter."
"How about this?" said Trono, leaning forward. "We'll jes' hide the girl some place an' then take a bunch o' the boys down to Powder an' lynch him fer doin' the deed. Then he won't give us no bother."
Stubbins nodded. "Now you're thinking what you should have thought some time ago. But I can't have her here. Somebody's liable to drop in and see her. Got to put her in some other cache."
"Thought you had a way with wimmen." Trono grinned.
Stubbins pressed his lips together and looked angry. "You take her, Trono. Now. Over the mountains to the last line rider's cabin. Grub there. Then in a couple days I'll see to it a lynchin' party starts for Powder."
"So I'm to pull the coals outa the fire again?" Trono was sullenly intractable. "Why don't you do it yoreself? Supposin' I get caught?"
"Afraid?"
"Hell! I'll go. But what you goin' to do with her after that?"
Stubbins hadn't decided that. Truly, Jill was becoming a burden to him. But he didn't say as much to Trono; the burly foreman was given to spells of ridicule that Stubbins disliked. So he dropped his head significantly and said, "That will take care of itself. This newcomer must be fixed first. I'll get the lady."
He roused Jill and escorted her into the hall. Trono grinned sourly at her and winked portentously at Stubbins. "Jill, we got to go fer a little ride. Don't you be afeerd, though. It's all right."
The girl lifted her shoulders. She knew, in a half certain way, what they were about, though she didn't understand that it implicated Tom Lilly. Resistance was utterly useless. Mustering her courage she lifted her clear, oval face to Stubbins. "I'm already becoming a burden to you, am I not? All right, Mr. Stubbins. You'll find that a woman has a thousand ways of fighting back you never heard of. And, remember, I'll scratch your eyes out before you are finished with me."
Trono led her into the yard. In a few minutes a Cross man led around a second horse and presently the girl was traveling again. This time southward. She had managed to smile somewhat at Stubbins and assumed an air of triumph. Here in the utter darkness, bound for an unknown