The One-Way Trail Part 37

"Sure. You see I couldn't give Will away because of Peter. But I told him wher' the stolen cattle wer'. An' that I'd seen the rustlers at work, an' if he got busy he'd get 'em right off, an'----"

But he got no further; Eve had him by the shoulders in a clutch that chilled his heart to a maddening fear. His eyes stared, and he gasped as though about to faint.

"You told him that--you--you? You never did! You couldn't! You wouldn't dare! Oh, G.o.d, and to think! Elia, Elia! Say you didn't.

You'll never--you'll never get Peter's gold!"

The woman was beside herself. She had no idea of what she was saying. All she knew was that Doc Crombie had been told of Will's hiding-place, and, for all she knew, might be on his way there now.

Discovery was certain; and discovery meant----

But suddenly she realized the boy's condition. He was on the verge of collapse from sheer dread of physical hurt. His face was ashen, and his eyes were almost starting from their sockets. In an agony of remorse and fear she released him and knelt before him.

"I'm sorry, Elia. I didn't mean to hurt you. But--but you haven't told Doc?" she cried piteously. "Say you haven't, dear. Oh, G.o.d!"

She abruptly buried her face in her hands as though to shut out the horrid sight of this thing her brother had done.

Elia recovered quickly, but his vicious glee had dropped to a sulky savagery.

"You're a fule, sis," he said, in a sullen tone. "I sure did it for you--an' 'cos I hate him. But say," he cried, becoming suddenly suspicious. "I didn't tell Doc who it was. I kep' my promise to Peter.

I sure didn't give him away. So why for do you raise sech a racket?

An' anyway if he hangs you won't be married to him no more. You----"

He broke off, listening. The sound of a horse galloping could be plainly heard. The noise abruptly ceased, and the boy looked up with the light of understanding in his eyes.

"One o' the boys, sis. One o' Doc's boys. Mebbe----"

But he was interrupted by the opening of the outer door, and Peter Blunt strode in.

The expression of the man's face was sufficient explanation of his unceremonious visit. He made no pretense at apology. He glanced swiftly round the little parlor, and finally espied Eve and her brother through the open kitchen door. He hurried across and stood before them, his eyes on the boy he had spent two days searching for.

"Thank G.o.d I've found you, laddie----" he began.

But Eve cut him short.

"Oh, Peter, Peter, thank G.o.d you've come!" she cried.

Immediately the man's eyes were transferred to her face.

"What is it?" he demanded sharply. And some of the girl's terror suddenly clutched at his heart.

"He's found him. Will, I mean. Will's the cattle-thief. He found him in the midst of re-branding. And he came right in and told--told Doc Crombie."

In an instant Elia was sitting forward defending himself.

"I didn't tell him who he was. Sure I didn't, 'cos you said I wouldn't get that gold if I did--if I give him away. I didn't give him away, sure--sure. I jest told Doc where he'd find the rustlers. That's all.

That ain't giving Will away, is it?"

But Peter ignored the boy's defense. His shrewd mind was working swiftly. Here was his own unspoken suspicion of the man verified. The whole situation was all too clear. He turned to Eve with a sharp inquiry.

"So Will's the cattle-thief. You knew it?"

The girl shook her head and wrung her hands piteously.

"No, no; I didn't know it. Indeed, indeed, I didn't. Lately I suspected--thought--but I didn't know." Then she cried helplessly.

"Oh, Peter, what's to be done? We must--we must save him!"

In an instant Elia was on his feet protesting.

"What for you want to save him?" he cried. "He's a crook. He's a thief. He's bad--I tell you he's bad."

But Peter suddenly thrust out one great hand and pushed him back into his chair.

"Sit there and keep quiet," he said sternly. "Now, let's think. You told Doc, eh?"

"Yes," retorted the boy sulkily. "An' he's goin' out after 'em to-night. An' I'm glad, 'cos they'll get him."

"If they get him you'll never get your gold, laddie, because you've given him away. Do you understand?"

Eve, watching these two, began to realize something of the working of Peter's mind. He meant to win Elia over to his side, and was adopting the only possible means.

The boy remained obstinately silent, and Peter went on.

"Now, see here, which would you rather do, get that gold--an' there's plenty; it comes right through here to Barnriff--or see Will hang?"

In spite of his hatred of Will, the boy was dazzled.

"I'd like to see Will hang--but--I'd rather git the gold."

"Well," said Peter, with a sigh of relief, "ther's just one way for you to get it. You've got to put us wise how to get to Will to warn him before Doc gets him. If Will hangs, you don't get your gold."

A sudden hope lit Eve's troubled face. This man, she knew, was to be Will's savior--her savior. Her heart swelled with thankfulness and hope. This man, without a second's demur, had embraced her cause, was ready to incriminate himself, to save the worst criminal a cattle country knows, because--just because he wanted to help a woman, who was nothing to him, and never could be anything to him. It was the love he had for all suffering humanity, the wonderful charity of his kindly heart, that made him desire to help all those who needed his help.

She was listening now to the manner in which he extracted from her unwilling brother the information he sought. He did it bit by bit, with much care and deliberation. He wanted no mistake. The direction in which Will's secret corrals lay must be given with the last word in exactness, for any delay in finding him might upset his purpose.

Having extracted all the information necessary, he gave the lad a final warning.

"Now, see here, Elia, you're a good lad--better than you seem; but I'm not going to be played with. I've got gold in plenty, sure, and you're going to get it if you stay right here, and don't say a word to any one about Will or this cattle-rustling. If you do anything that prevents Will getting clear away, or let folks know that he's the rustler, then you get no gold--not one cent."

"Then, wot's this I've heerd about Jim? Guess you want him to get the blame. You want 'em to hang Jim Thorpe?"

The boy's cunning was paralyzing. Eve's eyes widened with a fresh fear, and, for a moment, Peter was gravely silent.

"Yes," he said presently, "for a while he must still have the blame."

Then he turned to the woman.

"I wish I could get hold of Jim," he said regretfully. "Amongst other things, I want his horse."

In an instant Eve remembered.