The Night Riders Part 46

"Guess I heerd four shots," he said. "Say, that feller Anton was a daddy. Four of 'em, an' all found their mark. I 'lows this one's on'y a graze. Might 'a' bin done wi' a knife, et's so clean. Yes, sirree, he was a daddy, sure."

As no one seemed inclined to contradict the statement that Anton was a "daddy," and as the question of four shots or three was of no vital interest to the onlookers, the matter pa.s.sed unheeded. Only Tresler found food for reflection. That fourth wound he knew had not been inflicted by the half-breed. He remembered the rancher's knife and its dripping point, and he remembered Jake's cry, "You would, would you!" He needed no other explanation.

While the two men were still bending over their task there was a slight stir at the open door. The silent onlookers parted, leaving a sort of aisle to the bedside, and Julian Marbolt came shuffling his way through them, heralded by the regular tap, tap, of his guiding stick.

It was with many conflicting emotions that Tresler looked round when he heard the familiar sound. He stared at the man as he might stare at some horrid beast of prey, fascinated even against himself. It would have been hard to say what feeling was uppermost with him at the moment. Astonishment, loathing, expectation, and even some dread, all struggled for place, and the combination held him silent, waiting for what that hateful presence was to bring forth. He could have found it in his heart to denounce him then and there, only it would have served no purpose, and would probably have done much harm. Therefore he contented himself with gazing into the inflamed depths of the man's mysterious eyes with an intentness he had never yet bestowed upon them, and while he looked all the horror of the scene in the office stole over him again and made him shudder.

"Where is he--where is Jake?" the blind man asked, halting accurately at the bedside.

The question was directed at no one in particular, but Tresler took it upon himself to answer.

"Lying on the bed before you," he said coldly.

The man turned on him swiftly. "Ah--Tresler," he said.

Then he bent over the bed, and his hands groped over the dead man's body till they came into contact with the congealing blood round the wound in his stomach.

With a movement of repulsion he drew back sharply. "He's not dead?" he questioned, with a queer eagerness, turning round to those about him.

"Yes, he is dead," replied Tresler, with unintentional solemnity.

"Who--who did it?"

The question came in a tense voice, sharper and more eagerly than the preceding one.

"Anton," chorused the men, as though finding relief from their long silence in the announcement. The crime was even secondary to the personality of the culprit with them. Anton's name was uppermost in their minds, and so they spoke it readily.

"Anton? And where is he? Have you got him?"

The rancher had turned about, and addressed himself generally.

"Anton has made off with one of your horses," said Tresler. "I tried to get him, but he had too much start for me. I was on foot."

"Well, why are you all here? Have none of you sense enough to get after him?"

"Arizona is after him, and, until the sheriff comes, he is sufficient.

He will never leave his trail."

There was no mistaking the significance Tresler conveyed in his last remark. The rancher took him up sharply.

"What do you mean?"

"Arizona has no love for Anton."

"Ah! And Jake. Who found him? Who was there when he died?"

Marbolt's eyes had fixed themselves on Tresler's face. And the latter had no hesitation in suiting his reply to his own purpose.

"I found him--dead; quite dead. His death must have been instantaneous."

"So."

Marbolt turned back to the bed.

The rancher stood over the dead man in silence for some minutes. Then, to Tresler's horror, he broke out into a low-voiced lamentation, the hypocrisy of which made him want to seize him by the throat and choke the words ere they were uttered.

"My poor old Jake!" he said, with infinite pity. "Poor old Jake!" he repeated, addressing the dead man sorrowfully. "I wish now I'd taken your advice about that rascal and got rid of him. And to think that you should be the man on whom he was to wreak his treachery. I wonder how it came about. It must have been that rough temper of yours.

Tresler," he cried, pointing to the still form on the bed, "there lies the truest, the only friend I ever had. That man has stood by me when all others left me. Yes, we've fought side by side in the Indian days; ay, and further back still. I remember when he would have defended me with his life; poor Jake! I suppose he had his faults, the same as most of us have. Yes, and I wager his temper took him foul of Anton.

Poor old Jake! I suppose we shall never know the truth of this." He paused. Then he cried fiercely, "d.a.m.n it! Men, every one of you, I'll give a thousand dollars to the one who brings Anton back, dead or alive. Dead from preference, then he won't escape us. A thousand dollars. Now, who?"

But Tresler could stand it no longer. "Don't trouble, Mr. Marbolt," he said icily. "It is no use your offering rewards. The man who has gone after Anton will find him. And you can rest satisfied he'll take nothing from you on that score. You may not know Arizona; I do."

"You are confident," the other retorted, resentful at once.

"I have reason to be," came the decided answer.

Marbolt shook his close-cropped head. His resentment had gone from his manner again. He had few moods which he was unable to control at will.

That was how it seemed to Tresler.

"I hope truly it may be as you say. But I must still doubt. However,"

he went on, in a lighter tone, "in the meantime there is work to be done. The doctor must be summoned. Send some one for doctor and sheriff first thing to-morrow morning, Tresler. It is no use worrying them to-night. The sheriff has his night work to do, and wouldn't thank us for routing him out now. Besides, nothing can be done until daylight! And the doctor is only needed to certify. Poor old Jake!"

He turned away with something very like a sigh. Half-way to the door he paused.

"Tresler, you take charge of things to-night. Have this door locked.

And," he added, with redoubled earnestness, "are you sure Arizona will hunt that man down?"

"Perfectly."

Tresler smiled grimly. He fancied he understood the persistence.

There was a moment's silence. Then the stick tapped, and the rancher pa.s.sed out under the curious gaze of his men. Tresler, too, looked after him. Nor was there any doubt of his feelings now. He knew that his presence in the house during Marbolt's murderous a.s.sault on Jake was unsuspected. And Marbolt, villainous hypocrite that he was, was covering his tracks. He loathed the blind villain as he never thought to have loathed anybody. And all through his thoughts there was a cold, hard vein of triumph which was utterly foreign to his nature, but which was quite in keeping with his feelings toward the man with whom he was dealing.

As Julian Marbolt pa.s.sed out the men kept silence, and even when the distant tapping of his stick had died away. Tresler looked round him at these hardy comrades of his with something like delight in his eyes. Joe was not there, which matter gave him satisfaction. The faithful little fellow was at his post to care for Diane. Now he turned to Harris.

"Raw," he said, "will you ride in for the doctor?"

"He said t'-morrer," the man objected.

"I know. But if you'd care to do me a favor you'll ride in and warn the doctor to-night, and then--ride out to Widow Dangley's and meet us all there, _cached_ in the neighborhood."

The man stared; every man in that room was instantly agog with interest. Something in Tresler's tone had brought a light to their eyes which he was glad to see.

"What is 't?" asked Jacob, eagerly.

"Ay," protested Raw; "no bluffin'."

"There's no bluffing about me," Tresler said quickly. "I'm dead in earnest. Here, listen, boys. I want you all to go out quietly, one by one. It's eight miles to Widow Dangley's. Arrange to get there by half-past one in the morning--and don't forget your guns. There's a big bluff adjoining the house," he suggested significantly. "I shall be along, and so will the sheriff and all his men. I think there'll be a racket, and we may--there, I can tell you no more. I refrained from asking Marbolt's permission; you remember what he said once before.