The Land of Strong Men Part 76

"I understand," she said with equal gravity. "I do not feel that he is my brother. But they have all gone together, and I may as well tell you why."

He listened, frowning. He did not care about Braden, to whom he attributed the attempt of Blake and Garland to recover Faith's deeds.

But if Blake had gone with the other boys it meant that they would all stand together. It was feud, then, at last, unavoidable. But his purpose was unchanged.

"They don't know," Kathleen said, "that Blake laid hands on Faith. If they had known, they would not help him. They are bad enough but at least they are men."

He nodded silently. There was no doubt of that. Kathleen raised her head, listening. He became aware of a distant sound.

"That is--the law," she said. "Perhaps you would rather not be seen here--with me."

"I am glad to be here. I will see them. You shouldn't be alone. If you will go to Faith in the morning, and say that I asked you to stay with her--"

"No, no!" she cried. "It is kind of you. You are a good man, Angus. But I can't do that."

"You would be welcome."

"Still I cannot do it."

But the hoof-beats swelled in volume and clattered to a halt in front of the house. Angus went to the front door and opened it. He found himself confronted by a long, lean, grizzled gentleman who held a gun of orthodox proportions in readiness for action. But as he recognized Angus he lowered it with a grunt of surprise.

"Didn't expect to see _you_! Any of the French boys in the house?"

"They've pulled out. Their sister is alone."

The grizzled gentleman grunted again. His name was Bush, and he was the sheriff's deputy. As the sheriff was old and carried much weight for age, the rough jobs fell to Jake Bush, who did them well. He possessed much experience, a craw full of sand, and a thorough understanding of a gun. Behind him, with horses, Angus saw men he knew--Bustede, Drury, Fanning, McClintock--all men of the hills and of their hands.

"Yeh, I figgered them boys would pull out ahead of me," Bush admitted placidly. "And of course they'll p'int out north for the hills, where they ain't no wires. They know the country darn well, too. So I called in at your ranch and rousted out Dave. He's a wise old ram in them hills. Your brother wanted to come, and he bein' a useful kid I swore him in, too. I wanted you, but when I found out where you was I sent Dave and the kid after you, and come right along here. But I had a hunch it'd be too late. Still, it's a s'prise to see you."

"And you want to know why I'm here?"

"Well--yes. It might have some bearin' on the case."

Angus told him why, and Bush's eyebrows drew together.

"Now I'm free to say that for a low-down skunk this here Blake French is some pumpkins. I sure thought he was with his brothers, but this gives him a alibi, I s'pose. And I s'pose, also, you're out to git him.

Is that right?"

"That's right."

"I don't say he don't need killin'," said the deputy. "But the darn law--nowadays--sorter discourages these here private executions. And I'm an officer of the law."

"You and the law, Jake," Angus said deliberately, "can both go to h.e.l.l!"

"Now don't be so darn hair-trigger!" the deputy protested. "Here's the proposition: You've give me information which justifies me in arrestin'

him for murderous a.s.sault on your wife, and shootin' you with intent to kill. His brothers is wanted for robbery and murder, and they're all stringin' their chips together. I figger they'll resist arrest, and I don't believe in allowin' my officers to be shot up. So if you was sworn in, and was to kill Blake resistin' arrest, it would be all reg'lar.

Savvy?"

"But suppose he doesn't resist arrest?"

"Never cross a bridge till you come to it," said Bush wisely. "You got to come along with us to find him, anyhow. So I'll swear you in and we'll hope for the best."

Bush's questioning of Kathleen was perfunctory. He grinned at her refusal to give information. "I wouldn't think much of you if you did,"

he admitted, and went on a tour of investigation, from which he drew some very accurate deductions.

Turkey and Rennie arrived, and for the first time Angus heard of Braden's dying declaration that Gavin French was responsible for the killing of Adam Mackay. But beyond the bare statement there were no details. Braden's end had come before he had been able to amplify it.

"Do you suppose it's so?" Turkey queried. "Or was he just trying to hang something on Gavin?"

Angus did not know. There were times, in the years, when he had been puzzled by Gavin's peculiar regard for him. There had always been something in the big man's eyes which he could not read, something veiled, inscrutable. He alone of the brothers had been reluctant to take up their father's quarrel with Angus. This might be the reason.

"If he killed father," said Turkey grimly, "he's got it coming to him.

You take Blake, and I'll take him."

"There is nothing to go on but what Braden said," Angus pointed out. But he thought of his father's dying words. His father had not wished to lay a feud upon him. It fitted.

At dawn, acting on Bush's theory, they headed north for the pa.s.s. When they struck it there were fresh footprints, many of them, heading into the hills.

"That's them," said Bush. "Hey, Dave?"

"Sure," said Rennie. "It ain't Injuns. These horses is shod."

A mountain pa.s.s is not a road. It merely represents the only practicable way of winning through the jumbled world of hills. Railway construction in the mountains follows the pa.s.s, but persons who admire scenery from vestibuled coaches know nothing of the old pa.s.s of the pack-trail, the binding brush, the fallen timber, the slides, the swift creeks, the gulches, the precipices to which the trail must cling.

The trail itself--the original trail--is invariably the line of least resistance. It proceeds on the theory that it is easier to go around than through or over. If traveling on the other side of a creek is easier it crosses. When conditions are reversed, it comes back. It wanders with apparent aimlessness, but eventually gets there, at the cost of time, but without much work. To natural obstacles the wild animals and the equally wild men who first trod the pa.s.ses opposed patience and time, of which they had great store. Later the pioneer brought the ax. He slashed out the brush, so that he and his might get by without trouble; but he followed the windings of the trail.

The pa.s.s upon which the pursuit entered was a good trail. It led gradually and almost imperceptibly upward, following the general course of a creek. The hills sloped back on either hand. Into them led wide draws, timbered, little valleys in themselves. But this pa.s.s was merely a vestibule. It reached the summit of the first range of hills, and there was a way down the other side. The trail had been cut out. But beyond were hundreds of square miles of mountains in which what few trails there were had never known an ax.

In the afternoon they reached the summit of the first divide. It was comparatively low, and timbered. There was a lake, scarcely more than a pond. There the fugitives had halted.

Rennie and Bush nosed among the signs like old hounds, not looking for anything in particular, but because they could not help it.

"I sh'd say they got two pack ponies," Bush decided. "There's the four French boys, and maybe Garland."

"Garland ain't with 'em," Rennie returned with conviction. "He's too darn wise. He knows Angus would go after Blake, or if he didn't me or Turkey would. So he'd quit Blake right away and pull out by himself.

I'd bet money on it."

"Not with me," Bush grinned. "I guess you're right."

They were standing by the little lake, and Rennie pointed to a moccasin track that lay in the soft ground. The foot that made it was shapely, rather small, and straight along the inner line. The toes were spread widely, naturally.

"That's funny," said Rennie.

"Why?" Bush asked. "It's some Injun. He jumped from there onto that log.

I s'pose he wanted water without wettin' his feet."

"What's an Injun doin' here?"

"What's an Injun doin' any place?" Bush countered with the scorn of the old-timer. "S'pose you loosen up some. You know as much about Injuns as I do."