“Don’t seem to cotton to us, these boys,” Laura remarked.
“They don’t like us,” Lenora replied, “because they think we are after Craig. I wonder what Long Jim has been whispering to him, and what that paper is he has been showing Craig. Do you know how far we are from the Mexican border?”
“Not more than five or six miles, I believe,” Laura replied.
Lenora rose softly to her feet and strolled to the back of the range wagon. In a few moments she reappeared, carrying a piece of paper in her hand. She stooped down.
“Craig’s saddling up,” she whispered. “Look what he dropped.”
She held out the paper, on which was traced a roughly drawn map.
“That line’s the river that marks the Mexican border,” she explained. “You see where Long Jim’s put the cross? That’s where the bridge is. That other cross is the camp.”
She pointed away southwards.
“That’s the line,” she continued. “Laura, where’s the Professor?”
“I don’t know,” Laura replied. “He rode off some time ago, said he was going to meet Mr. Quest.”
“If only he were here!” Lenora muttered. “I feel sure Craig means to escape. There he goes.”
They saw him ride off into the darkness. Lenora ran to where her horse was tethered.
“I’m going after him,” she announced. “Listen, Laura. If they arrive soon, send them after me. That’s the line, as near as I can tell you,” she added, pointing.
“Wait; I’m coming too!” Laura exclaimed.
Lenora shook her head.
“You must stay here and tell them about it,” she insisted. “I shall be all right.”
She galloped off while Laura was still undecided. Almost at that moment she heard from behind the welcome sound of horses’ feet in the opposite direction and Quest alone galloped up. Laura laid her hand upon his rein.
“Where are the others?” she asked.
“French and two deputies from the township are about a mile behind,” Quest replied. “They’ve had trouble with their horses.”
“Don’t get off,” Laura continued quickly. “Craig has escaped, riding towards the Mexican frontier. Lenora is following him. He’s gone in that direction,” she added, pointing. “When you come to the river you’ll have to hunt for the bridge.”
Quest frowned as he gathered up his reins.
“I was afraid they’d try something of the sort,” he muttered. “Tell the others where I’ve gone, Laura.”
He galloped off into the darkness. Behind, there were some growls from the little group of cowboys, none of whom, however, attempted to interfere with him. Long Jim stood up and gazed sullenly southwards.
“Cookie’ll make the bridge all right,” he remarked. “If the girl catches him, she can’t do anything. And that last guy’ll never make it. Whoop! Here come the rest of them.”
The Inspector, with two deputies, rode suddenly into the camp. The Inspector paused to speak to Laura. Long Jim’s eyes sparkled as he saw them approach.
“It’s old Harris and fat Andy,” he whispered. “We’ll have some fun with them.”
The older of the two deputies approached them frowning.
“Been at your games again, Long Jim?” he began. “I hear you declined to hand over a criminal who’s been sheltering on your ranch? You’ll get into trouble before you’ve finished.”
“Got the warrant?” Jim asked.
The deputy produced it. Long Jim looked at it curiously and handed it back.
“Guess the only other thing you want, then, is the man.”
“Better produce him quickly,” the deputy advised.
Jim turned away.
“Can’t do it. He’s beat it.”
“You mean that you’ve let him go?”
“Let him go?” Jim repeated. “I ain’t got no right to keep him. He took the job on at a moment’s notice and he left at a moment’s notice. There’s some of your party after him, all right.”
The deputies whispered to one another. The elder of the two turned around.
“Look here,” he said to the cowboys, glancing around for Long Jim, who had disappeared, “we’ve had about enough of your goings-on. I reckon we’ll take one of you back and see what seven days’ bread and water will do towards civilising you.”
There was a little mutter. The deputies stood side by side. With an almost simultaneous movement they had drawn their guns.
“Where’s Long Jim?” the older one asked.
There was a sudden whirring about their heads. A lariat, thrown with unerring accuracy, had gathered them both in its coil. With a jerk they were drawn close together, their hands pinned to their side. Two cowboys quickly disarmed them. Long Jim came sauntering round from the other side of the range wagon, tightening the rope as he walked.
“Say, you’ve got a hell of a nerve, butting into a peaceable camp like this. We ain’t broke no laws. So you’re a’going to civilise us, eh? Well, Mister Harris, we can play that civilising game, too. Hey boys, all together, tie ’em up against that wagon.”
A dozen willing hands secured them. The two men spluttered wildly, half in anger, half in fear of their tormentors, but in a few seconds they were secured firmly against the canvas-topped wagon.
“Now sit easy, gentlemen, sit easy. Nothing’s going to hurt you.” Long Jim shoved fresh cartridges into his forty-five. “That is, unless you’re unlucky. Line up there, boys, one at a time now. Bud, you and Tim and Dough-head give them guys a singe, their hair’s getting too long. The rest of you boys just content yourselves doing a fancy decoration on the canvas all around ’em. I’ll deevote my entire attenshun to trimming them lugshuriant whiskers, Mister Harris is a-sporting. All ready now,—one, two, three, let ’em whistle!”
The two deputies gave a simultaneous yell as several bullets sung by their ears.
“Whoa, old horses,” drawled Long Jim. “Flies bothering you some, eh? Sit easy, sit easy. Too dangerous hopping around that way. You might stick yourselves right in the way of one of them spitballs. Some nerve tonic this! A.X.X. Ranch brand, ready to serve at all hours, cheap at half the price. Ah ha, pretty near shaved your upper lip that time, didn’t I, Mister Harris. My hand’s a bit unsteady, what with all the excitement hereabouts. Say, put a stem on that chrysanthemum you’re doing, Cotton-top.”
The two men, racked with fury and terror, ridiculous in their trussed-up state, motionless and strained, crouched in terror while the bullets passed all around them. Inspector French tapped Long Jim on the shoulder.
“Look here,” he remonstrated, “you’re looking for trouble. You can’t treat the representatives of the law like this.”
Long Jim turned slowly around. His politeness was ominous.
“Say, you got me scared,” he replied. “Am I going to be hung?”
“The law must be respected,” French said firmly. “Untie those men.”
Long Jim scratched his head for a moment.