Calder threw up his hands in despair. Black Bart
snarled at the gesture.
“I can’t listen no more,” said Dan.
“I got to start explorin’ the willows
pretty soon.”
“In the dark?” exclaimed Calder.
“Sure. Black Bart’ll go with me.
The dark don’t bother him.”
“I’ll go along.”
“I’d rather be alone. I might meet
him.”
“Any way you want,” said Calder, “but
first hear my plan—it doesn’t take
long to tell it.”
The darkness thickened around them while he talked.
The fire died out—the night swallowed up
their figures.
THE LONE RIDERS ENTERTAIN
When Lee Haines rode into Silent’s camp that
evening no questions were asked. Questions were
not popular among the long riders. He did not
know more than the names of half the men who sat around
the smoky fire. They were eager to forget the
past, and the only allusions to former times came
in chance phrases which they let fall at rare intervals.
When they told an anecdote they erased all names by
instinct. They would begin: “I heard
about a feller over to the Circle Y outfit that was
once ridin’—” etc.
As a rule they themselves were “that feller
over to the Circle Y outfit.” Accordingly
only a few grunts greeted Haines and yet he was far
and away the most popular man in the group. Even
solemn-eyed Jim Silent was partial to the handsome
fellow.
“Heard the whistling today?” he asked.
Purvis shook his head and Terry Jordan allowed “as
how it was most uncommon fortunate that this Barry
feller didn’t start his noise.” After
this Haines ate his supper in silence, his ear ready
to catch the first sound of Kate’s horse as
it crashed through the willows and shrubs. Nevertheless
it was Shorty Rhinehart who sprang to his feet first.
“They’s a hoss there comin’ among
the willows!” he announced.
“Maybe it’s Silent,” remarked Haines
casually.
“The chief don’t make no such a noise.
He picks his goin’,” answered Hal Purvis.
The sound was quite audible now.
“They’s been some crooked work,”
said Rhinehart excitedly. “Somebody’s
tipped off the marshals about where we’re lyin’.”
“All right,” said Haines quietly, “you
and I will investigate.”
They started through the willows. Rhinehart was
cursing beneath his breath.
“Don’t be too fast with your six-gun,”
warned Haines.
“I’d rather be too early than too late.”
“Maybe it isn’t a marshal. If a man
were looking for us he’d be a fool to come smashing
along like that.”
He had scarcely spoken when Kate came into view.
“A girl, by God!” said Rhinehart, with
mingled relief and disgust.
“Sure thing,” agreed Haines.
“Let’s beat it back to the camp.”
“Not a hope. She’s headed straight
for the camp. We’ll take her in and tell
her we’re a bunch from the Y Circle X outfit
headed north. She’ll never know the difference.”
