A Texas Ranger | Page 9

I am. And just to pass the time you might tell me the real
story of that hold-up while we ride."
"The real story?"
"Well, I don't aim to doubt your word, but I reckon you forgot to tell
some of it." He turned on the other his gay smile. "For instance, seh,
you ain't asking me to believe that you handed over your rig to Kinney
so peaceful and that he went away and clean forgot to unload from you
that gun you pack."
The eyes of the two met and looked into each other's as clear and
straight as Texas sunshine. Slowly Neill's relaxed into a smile.
"No, I won't ask you to believe that. I owe you something because you
saved my life--"
"Forget it," commanded the lieutenant crisply.
"And I can't do less than tell you the whole story."
He told it, yet not the whole of it either; for there was one detail he
omitted completely. It had to do with the cause for existence of the
little black-and-blue bruise under his right eye and the purple ridge that

seamed his wrist. Nor with all his acuteness could Stephen Fraser guess
that the one swelling had been made by a gold ring on the clenched fist
of an angry girl held tight in Larry Neill's arms, the other by the lash of
a horsewhip wielded by the same young woman.

CHAPTER III
A DISCOVERY
The roan, having been much refreshed by a few hours on grass, proved
to be a good traveller. The two men took a road-gait and held it steadily
till they reached a telephone-line which stretched across the desert and
joined two outposts of civilization. Steve strapped on his climbing
spurs and went up a post lightly with his test outfit. In a few minutes he
had Moreno on the wire and was in touch with one of his rangers.
"Hello! This you, Ferguson? This is Fraser. No, Fraser-- Lieutenant
Fraser. Yes. How many of the boys can you get in touch with right
away? Two? Good. I want you to cover the Arivaca cut-off. Kinney is
headed that way in a rig. His sister is with him. She is not to be injured
under any circumstances. Understand? Wire me at the Mal Pais mines
to-morrow your news. By the way, Tom Long and some of the boys are
headed down that way with notions of lynching Kinney. Dodge them if
you can and rush your man up to the Mal Pais. Good-bye."
"Suppose they can't dodge them?" ventured Neill after Steve had
rejoined him.
"I reckon they can. If not-- well, my rangers are good boys; I expect
they won't give up a prisoner."
"I'm right glad to find you are going to the Mal Pais mines with me,
lieutenant. I wasn't expecting company on the way."
"I'll bet a dollar Mex against two plunks gold that you're wondering
whyfor I'm going."

Larry laughed. "You're right. I was wondering."
"Well, then, it's this way. What with all these boys on Kinney's trail
he's as good as rounded up. Fact is, Kinney's only a weak sister anyhow.
He turned State's witness at the trial, and it was his testimony that
convicted Struve. I know something about this because I happened to
be the man that caught Struve. I had just joined the rangers. It was my
first assignment. The other three got away. Two of them escaped and
the third was not tried for lack of sufficient evidence. Now, then:
Kinney rides the rods from Yuma to Marfa and is now or had ought to
be somewhere in this valley between Posa Buena and Taylor's ranch.
But where is Struve, the hardier ruffian of the two? He ain't been seen
since they broke out. He sure never reached Ft. Lincoln. My notion is
that he dropped off the train in the darkness about Casa Grande, then
rolled his tail for the Mal Pais country. Your eyes are asking whys
mighty loud, my friend; and my answer is that there's a man up there
mebbe who has got to hide Struve if he shows up. That's only a guess,
but it looks good to me. This man was the brains of the whole outfit,
and folks say that he's got cached the whole haul the gang made from
that S. P. hold-up. What's more, he scattered gold so liberal that his
name wasn't even mentioned at the trial. He's a big man now, a
millionaire copper king and into gold-mines up to the hocks. In the
Southwest those things happen. It doesn't always do to look too closely
at a man's past.
"We'll say Struve drops in on him and threatens to squeak. Mebbe he
has got evidence; mebbe he hasn't. Anyhow, our big