CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. PHYLLIS 9 
 
 II. THE NESTER 18 
 
 III. CAUGHT RED-HANDED 28 
 
 IV. "FM A RUSTLER AND A THIEF, 
 
 AM!?" 43 
 
 V. AN AIDER AND ABETTOR .... 53 
 
 VI. A GOOD FRIEND 76 
 
 VII. A SHOT FROM AMBUSH .... 84 
 
 VIII. MlSS GoiNG-ON-ElGHTEEN . . . IO3 
 
 IX. PUNISHMENT 117 
 
 X. INTO THE ENEMY S COUNTRY . . 126 
 
 XL TOM DIXON 144 
 
 XII. THE ESCAPE 157 
 
 XIII. A MISTAKE 168 
 
 XIV. A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION . . .183 
 XV. THE BRAND BLOTTER 200 
 
 XVI. A WATERSPOUT 214 
 
 XVII. THE HOLD-UP 226 
 
 XVIII. BRILL HEALY AIRS His SENTIMENTS 233 
 XIX. THE ROAN WITH THE WHITE 
 
 STOCKINGS 241 
 
 XX. YEAGER RIDES TO NOCHES . . . 253 
 5 
 
 I 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXL BREAKING DOWN AN ALIBI . . . 263 
 
 XXII. SURRENDER 276 
 
 XXIII. AT THE RODEO 289 
 
 XXIV. MISSING 296 
 
 XXV. LARRY TELLS A BEAR STORY . . . 304 
 
 XXVI. THE MAN HUNT 323 
 
 XXVII. THE ROUND-UP 329 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The rider slewed in the saddle with his whole attention upon pos 
 sible pursuit Frontispiece 33 
 
 She drew back as if he had struck her, all the sparkling eagerness 
 
 driven from her face lid 
 
 "Drop that gun!" 205 
 
 They grappled in silence save for the heavy panting that evidenced 
 
 the tensioo of their efforts ....... 340 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PHYLLIS 
 
 Phyllis leaned against the door-jamb and looked 
 down the long road which wound up from the valley 
 and lost itself now and again in the land waves. 
 Miles away she could see a little cloud of dust trav 
 elling behind the microscopic stage, which moved 
 toward her almost as imperceptibly as the minute- 
 hand of a clock. A bronco was descending the hill 
 trail from the Flagstaff mine, and its rider an 
 nounced his coming with song in a voice young and 
 glad. 
 
 "My love has breath o roses, 
 
 O roses, o roses, 
 And cheeks like summer posies 
 All fresh with morning dew," 
 
 * 
 
 floated the words to her across the sunlit open. 
 
 If the girl heard, she heeded not. One might 
 liave guessed her a sullen, silent lass, and would 
 have done her less than justice. For the storm in 
 
 9 
 
10 MAVERICKS 
 
 her eyes and the curl of the lip were born of a mood 
 and not of habit. They had to do with the gay 
 vocalist who drew his horse up in front of her and 
 relaxed into the easy droop of the experienced rider 
 at rest 
 
 "Don t see me, do you?" he asked, smiling. 
 
 Her dark, level gaze came round and met his 
 sunniness without response, 
 
 "Yes, I see you, Tom Dixon." 
 
 "And you don t think you see much then?" he 
 suggested lightly. 
 
 She gave him no other answer than the one he 
 found in the rigor of her straight figure and the flash 
 of her dark eyes. 
 
 "Mad at me, Phyl?" Crossing his arms on the 
 pommel of the saddle he leaned toward her, half 
 coaxing, half teasing. 
 
 The girl chose to ignore him and withdrew her 
 gaze to the stage, still creeping antlike toward the 
 
 Ufc. 
 
 "My love has breath o roses, 
 O roses, o roses," 
 
 he hummed audaciously, ready to catch her smile 
 when it came. 
 
 It <fid not come. He thought he had never seen 
 her cany ker dusky good looks more scornfully. 
 With a movement of impatience she brushed back 
 a rebellious lock of blue-black hair from her temple. 
 
 "Somebody s acting right foolish," he continued 
 jauntily. "It was all in fun, and in a game a* tfeat." 
 
MAVERICKS 11! 
 
 "I wasn t playing," he heard, though the profile 
 did not turn in the least toward him. 
 
 "Well, I hated to let you stay a wall-flower/ f 
 
 "I don t play kissing games any more," she ia- 
 formed him with dignity. 
 
 "Sho, Phyl! I told you twas only in fun," be 
 justified himself. "A kiss ain t anything to make 
 so much fuss over. You ain t the first girl that ever 
 was kissed." 
 
 She glanced quickly at him, recalling stories she 
 had heard of his boldness with girls. He had taken 
 off his hat and the golden locks of the boy gleamed 
 in the sunlight Handsome he surely was, though 
 a critk might have found weakness in the lower parl 
 of the face. Chin and mouth lacked firmness, 
 
 "So I ve been told," she answered tartly. 
 
 "Jealous?" 
 
 "No," she exploded. 
 
 Slipping to the ground, he trailed his rein, 
 
 "You don t need to depend on hearing," he said, 
 moving toward her. 
 
 "What do you mean?" she flared. 
 
 "You remember well enough at the social down 
 to Peterson s." 
 
 "We were children then or I was.** 
 
 "And you re not a kid now ?" 
 
 "No, I m not" 
 
 "Here s congratulations, Miss Sanderson. You ve 
 put away childish things and now you have become a 
 woman," 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 Angrily the girl struck down his outstretched 
 hand 
 
 "After this, if a fellow should kiss you, it wotrid 
 be a crime, wouldn t it?" he bantered. 
 
 "Don t you dare try it, Tom Dixon," she flashed 
 fiercely. 
 
 Hitherto he had usually thought of her as a school 
 girl, even though she was teaching in the Willow s 
 district. Now it came to him with what dignity and 
 unconscious pride her head was poised, how little the 
 home-made print could conceal the long, free lines 
 of her figure, still slender with the immaturity of 
 youth. Soon now the woman in her would awaken 
 and would blossom abundantly as the spring pop 
 pies were doing on the mountain side. Her sullen 
 sweetness was very close to him. The rapid rise 
 and fall of her bosom, the underlying flush in her 
 dusky cheeks, the childish pout of the full lips, all 
 joined in the challenge of her words. Mostly it was 
 pure boyishness, the impish desire to tease, that 
 struck the audacious sparkle to his eyes, but there 
 was, too, a masculine impulse he did not analyse. 
 
 "So you won t be friends?" 
 
 If he had gone about it the right way he might 
 have found forgiveness easily enough. But this did J 
 not happen to be the right way. 
 
 "No, I won t" And she gave him her profile 
 again. 
 
 "Then we might as well have something worth 
 while to quarrel about," he said, and slipping his 
 
MAVERICKS 18 
 
 arm round her neck, he tilted her face toward 
 him. 
 
 With a low cry she twisted free, pushing him 
 from her. 
 
 Beneath the fierce glow of her eyes his laughter 
 was dashed. He forgot his expected trivial triumph, 
 for they flashed at him now no childish petulance, 
 but the scorn of a woman, a scorn in the heat of 
 which his vanity withered and the thing he had tried 
 to do stood forth a bare insult. 
 
 "How dare you!" she gasped. 
 
 Straight up the stairs to her room she ran, 
 turned the lock, and threw herself passionately on 
 the bed. She hated him ... hated him . . . 
 hated him. Over and over again she told herself 
 this, crying it into the pillows where she had hidden 
 her hot cheeks. She would make him pay for this 
 insult some day. She would find a way to trample 
 on him, to make him eat dirt for this. Of course 
 she would never speak to him again never so long 
 as she lived. He had insulted her grossly. Her 
 turbulent Southern blood boiled with wrath. It was 
 characteristic of the girl that she did not once think 
 of taking her grievance to her hot-headed father or 
 to her brother. She could pay her own debts with 
 out involving them. And it was in character, too, 
 that she did not let the inner tumult interfere with 
 her external duties. 
 
 As soon as she heard the stage breasting the hill, 
 she was up from the bed as swift as a panther and 
 
14 MAVERICKS 
 
 at her dressing-table dabbing with a kerchief at the 
 telltale eyes and cheeks. Before the passengers be 
 gan streaming into the house for dinner she was 
 her competent self, had already cast a supervising 
 eye over Becky the cook and Manuel the waiter, to 
 see that everything was in readiness, and behind the 
 official cage had fallen to arranging the mail that 
 had just come up from Noches on the stage. 
 
 From this point of vantage she could cast an oc 
 casional look into the dining-room to see that all 
 was going well there. Once, glancing through the 
 window, she saw Tom Dixon in conversation with 
 a half-grown youngster in leathers, gauntlets, and 
 spurs. A coin was changing hands from the older 
 boy to the younger, and as soon as the delivery win 
 dow was raised little Bud Tryon shuffled in to get 
 the family mail and that of Tom. Also he pushed 
 through the opening a folded paper evidently torn 
 from a notebook. 
 
 "This here is for you, Phyl," he explained. 
 
 She pushed it back. "I m too busy to read it." 
 
 "It s from Tom," he further volunteered. 
 
 "Is it?" 
 
 She took the paper quietly but with a swift, re 
 pressed passion, tore it across, folded the pieces to 
 gether, rent them again, and tossed the fragments 
 through the window to the floor. 
 
 "Do you want the mail for the Gordons, too, Mr. 
 Purdy?" she coolly asked the next in line over the 
 tow head of Bud. 
 
MAVERICKS 15 
 
 The boy grinned and ducked from his place 
 through the door. Through the open window there 
 drifted to her presently the sound of a smothered 
 curse, followed by the rapid thud of a horse s hoofs. 
 Phyllis did not look, but a wicked gleam came into 
 her black eyes. As well as if she had seen him she 
 beheld a picture of a sulky youth spurring home in 
 dudgeon, a scowl of discontent on his handsome, 
 boyish face. He had come down the mountain trail 
 singing, but no music travelled with him on his re 
 turn journey. Nor had she alone known this. With 
 out deigning to notice it, she caught a wink and a 
 nod from one vaquero to another. It was certain 
 they would not forget to "rub it in" when next they 
 met Master Tom. She promised herself, as she 
 handed out newspapers and letters to the cowmen, 
 sheep-herders, and miners who had ridden in to the 
 stage station for their mail, to teach that young man 
 his place. 
 
 "I ll take a dollar s worth of two s." 
 
 Phyllis turned her head in the slow, disdainful 
 fashion she had inherited from her Southern an 
 cestors and without a word pushed the sheet of 
 stamps through the window. That voice, with its 
 hint of sardonic amusement, was like a trumpet call 
 to battle. 
 
 "Any mail for Buck Weaver?" 
 
 "No," she answered promptly without looking. 
 
 "Sure?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
/ 
 
 16 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Couldn t be overlooking any, could you?" 
 
 Her eyes met his with the rapier steel of hostil 
 ity. He was mocking her, for his mail all came to 
 Saguaro. The man was her father s enemy. He 
 had no business here. His coming was of a piece 
 with all the rest of his insolence. Phyllis hated him 
 with the lusty healthy hatred of youth. She had 
 her father s generosity and courage, his quick in 
 dignation against wrong and injustice, and banked 
 within her much of his passionate lawlessness. 
 
 "I know my business, sir." 
 
 Weaver turned from the window and came front 
 to front with old Jim Sanderson. The burning 
 black eyes of the Southerner, set in sockets of ex 
 traordinary depths, blazed from a grim, hostile face. 
 Always when he felt ugliest Sanderson s drawl be 
 came more pronounced. His daughter, hearing now 
 the slow, gentle voice, ran quickly round the coun- 
 tei and slipped an arm into that of her father. 
 
 "This hyer is an unexpected pleasure, Mr. 
 Weaver," he was saying. "It s been quite some time 
 since I ve seen you all in my house before, makin 
 you self at home so pleasantly. It s ce tainly an 
 honor, seh." 
 
 "Don t get buck ague, Sanderson. I m here be 
 cause I m here. That s reason a-plenty for me," 
 Weaver told him contemptuously. 
 
 "But not for me, seh. When you come into my 
 house ." 
 
 "I didn t come rto yottr house. " 
 
MAVERICKS 17 
 
 -Why why " 
 
 "Father!" implored the girL "It s a government 
 post-office. He has a right here as long as he be 
 haves." 
 
 "H m!" the old fire-eater snorted. "I d be 
 obliged just the same, Mr. Weaver, if you d trans 
 act your business and then light a shuck." 
 
 "Dad !" the girl begged. 
 
 He patted her head awkwardly as it lay on his 
 arm. "Now don t you worry, honey. There ain t 
 going to be any trouble leastways none of my 
 making. I ain t a-forgettin my promise to you-all. 
 But I ain t sirtin down whilst anybody tromples on 
 me neither." 
 
 "He wouldn t try to do that here," Phyllis re 
 minded him. 
 
 Weaver laughed in grim irony. "I m surely much 
 obliged to you for protecting me." And to the 
 father he added carelessly: "Keep your shirt on, 
 Sanderson. I m not trying to break into society. 
 And when I do I reckon it won t be with a sheep 
 outfit I ll trail." 
 
 With which parting shot he turned on his heel, 
 arrogant and imperious to the last virile inch of 
 him. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE NESTER 
 
 With the jingle of trailing spur Buck Weaver 
 passed from the post-office to the porch, where pub 
 lic opinion was wont to formulate itself while wait 
 ing for the mail to be distributed. Here twice a 
 week it had sat for many years, had heard evidence, 
 passed judgment, condemned or acquitted. For at 
 this store the Malpais country bought its ammuni 
 tion, its tobacco, and its canned goods ; and on this 
 porch its opinions had sifted down to convictions. 
 From this common meeting ground the gossip of 
 Cattleland was scattered far and wide. 
 
 Weaver filled the doorway while he drew on his 
 gauntlets. He was the owner of the Twin Star out 
 fit, the biggest cattle company in that country. 
 Nearly twenty years ago, while still a boy of eigh 
 teen, he had begun in a small way. The Malpais 
 had been a wild and lawless place then, but in all the 
 turbid days that followed Buck Weaver had held 
 his own ruthlessly by adroit manipulation, shrewd 
 sense, and implacable daring. Some outfits he had 
 bought out ; others he had driven away. Those that 
 survived were at a respectable distance from him. 
 
 18 
 
MAVERICKS 19 
 
 Only the settlers in the hills remained to trouble 
 him. He had come to be the big man of the dis 
 trict, dominating its social, business, and political 
 activities. 
 
 "What s this I hear about another settler up on 
 Bear Creek?" he asked curtly after he had gathered 
 up his bridle and swung to the saddle. 
 
 "That s the way Jim Budd s telling it, Mr. 
 Weaver. Another nester homesteaded there," old 
 Joe Yeager answered casually, chewing tobacco with 
 a noncommittal air. 
 
 "Fine ! There ll soon be a right smart settlement 
 up near the headwaters of the creeks, I shouldn t 
 wonder. The cow business is getting to be a mighty 
 profitable one when you don t own any," Buck said 
 dryly. 
 
 The others laughed, but with small merriment. 
 They were either small cattle owners themselves or 
 range riders whose living depended on the busi 
 ness, and during the past two years a band of rus 
 tlers had operated so boldly as to have wiped out 
 the profits of some of the ranchers. Most of them 
 disliked Buck extremely for his overbearing ways. 
 But they did not usually tell him so. On this par 
 ticular subject, too, they joined hand with him. 
 
 "You re dead right, Mr. Weaver. It ce tainly 
 must be stopped." 
 
 The man who spoke rolled a cigarette and lit it. 
 Like the rest he was in the common garb of the 
 plains. The broad-brimmed felt hat, the shiny 
 
20 MAVERICKS 
 
 leather chaps, the loosely knotted bandanna, were as 
 much a matter of course as the hard-eyed, weather- 
 beaten look that comes of life under an untempered 
 sun. But Brill Healy claimed a distinction above 
 his fellows. He was a black-haired, picturesque fel 
 low, as supple as a panther, reckless and yet wary. 
 
 "We ll have rustling as long as we have nesters, 
 Brill," Buck told him. 
 
 "If that s the case we ll serve notice on the nest 
 ers to get out," Healy replied. 
 
 Buck grinned. Indomitable fighter though he was, 
 he had been unable to roll back the advancing tide 
 of settlement. Here and there homesteaders had 
 taken up land and had brought in small bunches of 
 cattle. Most of these were honest men, others sus 
 pected rustlers. But Buck s fiat had not sufficed to 
 keep them out They had held stoutly to their ow 
 and he suspected a good deal more than their 
 own. Calves had been branded secretly and cows 
 killed or driven away. 
 
 "Go to it, Brill," Weaver jeered "I m wishing 
 you all the luck in the world." 
 
 He touched his pony with the spur and swept up 
 the road in a cloud of white dust. 
 
 Not till he had disappeared did conversation re 
 new itself languidly, for Seven Mile Ranch was 
 lying under the lethargy of a summery sun. 
 
 "I expect Buck s got the right of it," volunteered 
 a brawny youth known as Slim. "All you got to 
 do is to take up a claim near a couple of big outfits 
 
MAVERICKS ffl. 
 
 with easy brands, then keep your iron hot and 
 industrious. There s sure money in being a 
 nester." 
 
 Despite the soft drawl of his voice, he spoke with 
 bitterness, as did the others. Every day the feel 
 ing was growing stronger that the rustling must be 
 stopped if they were going to continue to run cat 
 tle. The thieves had operated with a boldness and 
 a shrewdness that fairly outwitted the ranchers. 
 Enough horses and cattle had been driven across 
 the line to stock a respectable ranch. Not one of 
 the established ranches had escaped heavy losses ; so 
 heavy, indeed, that the owners faced the option of 
 going broke or of exterminating the rustlers. Once 
 or twice the thieves had nearly been caught red- 
 handed, but the leader of the outlaws had saved the 
 men by the most daring strategy. 
 
 Healy, until lately foreman of the Twin Star 
 outfit, had organized the ranchmen as a protective 
 association. In this he had represented Weaver, 
 himself not popular enough to cooperate with the 
 other ranchmen. Once Brill had led the pursuit 
 of the rustlers and had come back furious from a 
 long futile chase. For among the cattle being driven 
 across to Sonora were five belonging to him. 
 
 Other charges also lay against the hill outlaws. 
 A stage had been robbed with a gold shipment from 
 the Diamond Nugget mine. A cattleman had been 
 held up and relieved of two thousand dollars, just 
 taken as part payment for a sale of beef steers. The 
 
2 MAVERICKS 
 
 sheriff of Noches County, while trying to arrest a 
 rustler, had been shot dead in his tracks. 
 
 Brill Healy leaned forward, gathered the eyes of 
 those present, and lowered his voice to a whisper. 
 "Boys, this thing has got to stop. I ve sent for 
 Bucky O Connor. If anybody can run the coyotes 
 to earth he can. Anyhow, that s the reputation he s 
 got." 
 
 Yeager nodded. "Good for you, Brill. He s 
 ce tainly got an A-one rep. as a cattle detective, and 
 likewise as a man hunter. When is he coming?" 
 
 "He writes that he s got a job on hand that will 
 keep him busy a couple of weeks, anyhow. After 
 that we ll hear from him. I m going to drop every 
 thing else, if necessary, and stay right with him on 
 this job till he finishes it right," Healy promised. 
 
 "Now you re shoutin , Brill. Here, too. It s 
 money in our pocket to stop this thing right now, 
 even if we pay big for it. No use jest sittin around 
 till we re stole blind," assented Slim. 
 
 "It won t cost us anything. Buck, he pays the 
 freight The waddies have been hitting him right 
 hard lately and he figures it will be up to him to 
 clean them out. Course we expect help from you 
 boys when we call on you." 
 
 "Sure. We ll all be with you till the cows come 
 home, Brill," nodded one little fellow called Purdy. 
 He was looking at a dust patch rising from the Bear 
 Creek trail, and slowly moving toward them. 
 What s the name of this new nester, Jim?" 
 
 . 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 Budd, by way of being a curiosity on the range, 
 was a fat man with a big double chin. He was 
 large as well as fat, and, by queer contrast, the 
 voice that came from that mountain of flesh was a 
 small falsetto scarce above a whisper. 
 
 "Didn t hear his name. Had no talk with him. 
 Hear he is called Keller," he said. 
 
 "What s he look like?" 
 
 "You-all can see for yourself. This here s the 
 gent rolling a tail this way." 
 
 The little cloud of dust had come nearer and dis 
 closed as its source a rider on a rangy roan with 
 four white-stockinged feet. Drawing up in front 
 of the porch, the man swung himself easily from the 
 saddle and glanced around. 
 
 "Evening, gentlemen," he said pleasantly. 
 
 Some nodded grimly, some growled an acknowl 
 edgment of his greeting. But the lack of cordiality, 
 the presence of hostility, could not be doubted. The 
 young man stood at supple ease before them, one 
 hand resting on his hip and the other on the saddle. 
 He let his unabashed gaze travel from one to an 
 other, understood perfectly what those expression 
 less eyes of stone were telling him, and, with a little 
 laugh of light derision, trailed debonairly into the 
 store. 
 
 "Any mail for Larrabie Keller?" he inquired of 
 the postmistress. 
 
 The girl at the window glanced incuriously at him 
 and turned to look. When she pushed his letter 
 
24 MAVERICKS 
 
 through the grating he met for an instant a flash of 
 dark eyes from a mobile face which the sun and 
 superb health had painted to a harmony of gold and 
 russet, with the soft glow of pink pushing through 
 the tan. The unexpectedness of the picture mag 
 netized his gaze. Admiration, frank and human, 
 shone from the steel-gray eyes that had till now 
 been only a mask. Beneath his steady look she 
 flushed indignantly and withdrew from the 
 window. 
 
 Convicted of rudeness, the last thing he had 
 meant, Keller returned to the porch and leaned 
 against the door jamb while he opened his letter. 
 His appearance immediately sandbagged conversa 
 tion. Stony eyes were focused upon him incuri 
 ously, with expressionless hostility. 
 
 He noted, however, an exception. Another had 
 been added to the group, a lad of about eighteen, 
 slim and swarthy, with the same dark look of pride 
 he had seen on the face at the stamp window. It 
 was easy to guess that they were brother and sister, 
 very likely twins, though he found in the boy s ex 
 pression a sulky impatience lacking in hers. Per 
 haps the lad needed the discipline that life hammers 
 into those who want to be a law unto themselves. 
 
 With an insolence extremely boyish, the lad 
 turned to Healy. "I m for running out a few of 
 these nesters. We ve got more than we can use, 
 I reckon. The range is overstocked now both 
 
MAVEPICKS 25 
 
 with them and cows. Come a bad year and half of 
 ottr cattle will starve." 
 
 There was a moment of surcharged silence. Phil 
 Sanderson had voiced the growing- feeling of them 
 all, but he had flung it out as a stark challenge be- 
 i fore the time was ripe. It was one thing to resent 
 the coming of settlers; it was quite another to set 
 themselves openly against the law that allowed these 
 men to homestead the natural parks in the hills. 
 
 Brill Healy laughed. "The fat s in the fire now, 
 sure enough. Just the same, I back your play, Phil." 
 
 He turned recklessly to the man in the doorway. 
 "You may tell your friends up on Bear Creek that 
 we own this range and mean to hold it. We don t 
 aim to let our cattle be starved, and we don t aim 
 to lie down before rustlers. Understand?" 
 
 The nester smiled, but there was no gayety in 
 his eyes. They met those of the cattleman with a 
 grip of steel, and measured strength with him. Each 
 knew the other would go the limit before Keller 
 made quiet answer : 
 
 "I think so." 
 
 And with that he dismissed the subject and his 
 ^unfriendly audience. With perfect ease, he read his 
 letter, pocketed it, and whistled softly as he impas 
 sively took stock of the scenery. Apparently he 
 had wiped Public Opinion from his map, and was 
 interested only in the panorama before him. 
 
 Seven Mile Ranch lay rooted at the desert terrai- 
 
26 MAVERICKS 
 
 nus among the foothills, a gateway between the 
 mountains and the Malpais Plain. Below was a 
 shimmering stretch of sand and cactus tortured be 
 neath a blazing sun. Into that caldron with its 
 furnace-cracked floor the sun had poured itself tor- 
 ridly for countless eons. It was a Sahara of mirage 
 and desolation and death. 
 
 To the left was a flat-topped mesa eroded to fan 
 tastic mockery of some bastioned fort. In the 
 round-topped hills behind it was Noches, fifty miles 
 away. Beyond lay the tangle of hills, rising to the 
 saw-toothed range now painted with orange and 
 mauve and a hint of deepening purple. For dusk 
 was already slipping down over the peaks. 
 
 "Mail s been open half an hour, boys," Phyllis 
 announced through the open window. 
 
 They dropped in to the store, as noisy as school 
 boys, but withal deferential. It was clear the young 
 postmistress reigned a queen among the younger 
 ones, but a queen that deigned to friendship with 
 her subjects. Some of them called her Miss San 
 derson, one or two of them Phyllie. 
 
 Among these last was Healy, who appeared on 
 very good terms with her indeed. He appointed 
 himself a sort of master of ceremonies, and handed 
 to each man his mail with appropriate jocular com 
 ments designed to embarrass the recipient. He knew 
 them all, and his hits were greeted with gay laugh 
 ter. To the man standing in the doorway with his 
 back to them, they seemed all one happy family 
 
MAVERICKS 27 
 
 and himself a rank outsider. He trailed down the 
 steps and swung himself to the saddle. As he loped 
 away the sound of her warm, clear laughter floated 
 after him. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 
 
 CAUGHT RED-HANDED 
 
 From a cleft in the hills two riders emerged, fol 
 lowing a little gulch to the point where it widened 
 into a draw. The alkali dust of Arizona lay thick 
 upon their broad-brimmed Stetsons and every inch 
 of exposed surface, but through the gray coating 
 bloomed the freshness of youth. It rang from their 
 voices, was apparent in the modelling and carriage 
 of their figures. The young man was sinewy and 
 hard as nails, the girl supple and wiry, of a slender 
 grace, straight-backed as an Indian in the saddle. 
 
 Just where the draw dipped down into the grassy 
 park they drew rein an instant. Faint and far a 
 sound drifted to them. Somebody down in the park 
 had fired a rifle 
 
 "I don t agree with you, Phil," the girl said, pick 
 ing up the thread of their conversation where they 
 had dropped it some minutes earlier. "The nesters 
 have as much right here as we have. They come 
 here to settle, and they take up government land. 
 Why shouldn t they?" 
 
 "Because we got here first," he retorted impa 
 tiently. "Because our cattle and sheep have been 
 
 28 
 
MAVERICKS 29 
 
 feeding- on the land they are fencing. Because they 
 close the water holes and the creeks and claim they 
 are theirs. It means the end of the open range. 
 That s what it means." 
 
 "Of course that s what it means. We ll have to 
 adapt ourselves to it. You talk foolishness when 
 you make threats to drive out the nesters. That is 
 the sort of thing Buck Weaver has been trying to 
 do. It s absurd. The law is back of them. You 
 would only come to trouble, and if you did suc 
 ceed others would take their places." 
 
 "And rustle our cattle," he added sullenly. 
 
 "It isn t proved they are the rustlers. You 
 haven t a shred of evidence. Perhaps they are, but 
 you should prove it before you make the charge." 
 
 "If they aren t, who is?" he flared up. 
 
 "I don t know. But whoever it is will be caught 
 and punished some day. There is no doubt at all 
 about that." 
 
 "You talk a heap of foolishness, Phyl," he an 
 swered resentfully. "My notion is they never will 
 be caught. What makes you so sure they will?" 
 
 They had been riding down the draw, and at this 
 moment Phyllis looked up, to see a rider silhouetted 
 against the sky line on the ridge above. 
 
 "Oh, you Brill!" she cried, with a wave of her 
 quirt. 
 
 The man turned, saw them, and rode slowly down. 
 He nodded, after the fashion of the range, first to 
 the girl, and then to her brother. 
 
SO MAVERICKS 
 
 "Morning," he nodded. "Headed for Mesa? 
 Here, too." 
 
 He fell in with them and rode beside the girL 
 Presently they topped a little hillock, and looked 
 down into the park. It had about the area of a mile, 
 and was perhaps twice as long as broad. Wooded 
 spurs ran down from the hills into it here and there, 
 and through the meadow leaped a silvery stream. 
 
 "Hello! Wonder where that smoke comes 
 from?" 
 
 It was Healy that spoke. He pointed to a faint 
 cloud rising from a distance. Even before he began 
 to speak, however, Phyllis had her field glasses out, 
 and was adjusting them to her eyes. 
 
 "There s a fire there and a man standing over 
 it," she presently announced. "There s something 
 else there, too. I can t make it out something 
 lying down." 
 
 The men glanced at each other, and in the meet 
 ing of their eyes some intelligence passed between 
 them. It was as if the younger accused and the 
 older sullenly denied. 
 
 "Lemme have the glasses," Phil said to his sister 
 almost roughly. 
 
 Healy glanced at Phil swiftly, covertly, as the lat-x 
 ter adjusted the glasses. "She s right about the fire 
 and the man. I can see as much with my naked 
 eyes," he cut in. 
 
 The boy looked long, lowered the glasses, and 
 met his friend s eye with a kind of shamefaced hesi- 
 
MAVERICKS 31 
 
 tation. But apparently he gathered reassurance from 
 the quiet steadiness with which the other s gaze met 
 him. He handed the glasses to Healy. When the 
 latter lowered them his face was grave, "There s 
 a man and a fire and a cow and a calf. When these 
 four things meet up together, what does it 
 mean?" 
 
 "Branding!" cried the girl. 
 
 "That s right branding. And when the cow is 
 dead what does it mean?" Brill asked, his eyes full 
 on Phil. 
 
 "Rustling!" she breathed again. 
 
 "You ve said it, Phyl. We ve got one of them at 
 last," he cried jubilantly. 
 
 Phil, hanging between doubt and suspicion and 
 shame, brightened at the enthusiasm of the other. 
 
 "Right you are, Brill. We ll solve this mystery 
 once for all." 
 
 Healy, unstrapping the case in which lay his rifle, 
 shot a question at the boy. "Armed, Phil?" 
 
 The lad nodded. "I brought my six-gun for rat 
 tlesnakes." 
 
 "Are you going to to " cried Phyllis, the 
 
 color gone from her face. 
 
 "We re going to capture him alive if we can, Phyl. 
 You/re to wait right here till we come bade You 
 may hear shooting. Don t let that worry you. 
 We ve got the drop on him, or will have. Nobody 
 is going to get hurt if he acts sensible," Healy re 
 assured. 
 
32 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Don t you move from here. You stay right 
 where you are," her brother ordered sharply. 
 
 "Yes," she said, and was aware that her throat 
 was suddenly parched. "You ll be careful, won t 
 you, Phil?" 
 
 "Sure," he called back, as he put his horse at a, 
 canter to follow his friend up the draw. 
 
 The sound of the hoofs died away, and she was 
 alone. That they were going to circle in and out 
 among the tangle of hills until they were opposite 
 the miscreant, she knew, but in spite of Brill s prom 
 ise she had a heart of water. With trembling fin 
 gers she raised the glasses again, and focused them 
 on that point which was to be the centre of the 
 drama. 
 
 The man was moving about now, quite uncon 
 scious of the danger that menaced him. What she 
 looked at was the great crime of Cattleland. All 
 her life she had been taught to hold it in horror. 
 Bufi now something human in her was deeper than 
 her detestation of the cowardly and awful thing this 
 man had just done. She wanted to cry out to him a 
 warning, and did in a faint, ineffective voice that 
 carried not a tenth of the distance between them. 
 
 She had promised to remain where she was, but 
 her tense interest in what was doing drew her for 
 ward in spite of herself. She rode along the ridge 
 that bordered the park, at first slowly and then 
 quicker as the impulse grew in her to be in at the 
 finish. 
 
MAVERICKS SS 
 
 The climax came. She saw him look round 
 quickly, and in an instant his pony was at the gallop 
 and he was lying low on its neck. A shot rang out, 
 and another, but without checking his flight. He 
 turned in the saddle and waved a derisive hand at 
 the shooters, then plunged into a wash and disap 
 peared. 
 
 What inspired her she could never tell. Perhaps 
 it was her indignation at the thing he had done, per 
 haps her anger at that mocking wave of the hand 
 with which he had vanished. She wheeled her horse, 
 and put it at a canter down the nearest draw so as to 
 try to intercept him at right angles. Her heart 
 beat fast with excitement, but she was conscious of 
 no fear. 
 
 Before she had covered half the distance, she 
 knew she was going to be too late to cut off his re 
 treat. Faintly, she heard the rhythm of hoofs strik 
 ing the rocky bottom of the draw. Abruptly they 
 ceased. Wondering what that could mean, she found 
 her answer presently. For the pounding of the gal 
 loping broncho had renewed itself, and closer. The 
 man was riding up the gulch toward her. He had 
 turned into its mesquite-Iaced entrance for a hiding 
 place. Phyllis drew rein, and waited quietly to con 
 front him, but with a pulse that hammered the mo 
 ments for her. 
 
 A white-stockinged roan, plowing a way through 
 heavy sand, labored into view round the bend, its 
 rider slewed in the saddle with his whole attention 
 
34. MAVERICKS 
 
 upon the possible pursuit. Not until he was almost 
 upon her did the man turn. With a startled ex 
 clamation at sight of the motionless figure, he pulled 
 up sharply. It was the nester, Keller. 
 
 "You," she cried. 
 
 "Happy to meet you, Miss Sanderson," he told 
 her jauntily. 
 
 His revolver slid into its holster, and his hat came 
 off in a low bow. White, even teeth gleamed in a 
 sardonic smile. 
 
 "So you are a rustler/ she told him scornfully. 
 
 "I hate to contradict a lady," he came back, with 
 a kind of bitter irony. 
 
 She saw something else, a deepening stain that 
 soaked slowly down his shirt sleeve. 
 
 "You are wounded." 
 
 "Ami?" 
 
 "Aren t you?" 
 
 "Come to think of it, I believe I am," he laughed 
 shortly. 
 
 "Badly?" 
 
 "I haven t got the doctor s report yet." There 
 was a gleam of whimsical gayety in his eyes as he 
 added: "I was going to find him when I had the 
 good luck to meet up with you." 
 
 He was a hunted miscreant, wounded, riding for 
 his life as a hurt wolf dodges to shake off the pur 
 suit, but strangely enough her gallant heart thrilled 
 to the indomitable pluck of him. Never had she 
 Been a mao who looked more the vagabond en- 
 
MAVERICKS 35 
 
 throned. His crisp bronze curls and his superb 
 shoulders were bathed in the sunpour. Not once, 
 since his eyes had fallen on her, had he looked back 
 to see if his hunters had picked up the lost trail. 
 He was as much at ease as if his whole thought at 
 meeting her were the pleasure of the encounter. 
 
 "Can you ride?" she demanded. 
 
 "I can stick on a hawss if it s plumb gentle. 
 Leastways I ve been trying to for twenty years/ he 
 drawled 
 
 Her impatient gesture waved his flippancy aside. 
 "I mean, are you too much hurt to ride? I m not 
 going to leave you here like a wounded coyote. Can 
 you follow me if I lead the way?" 
 
 "Yes, ma am." 
 
 She turned. He followed her obediently, but 
 with a ghost of a smile still flickering on his face. 
 
 "Am I your prisoner, Miss Sanderson?" he pres 
 ently wanted to know. 
 
 "I m not thinking of prisoners just now," she an 
 swered shortly, with an anxious backward glance. 
 
 Presently she pulled up and wheeled her horse, 
 so that when he halted they sat facing each other. 
 
 **Let me see your arm," she ordered. 
 
 Obediently he held out to her the one that hap 
 pened to be nearest. It was the unwounded one. 
 An angry spark gleamed in her eye. 
 
 "This is no time to be fresh. Give me the 
 other." 
 
S6 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Yes, ma am." he answered, with deceptive meek 
 ness. 
 
 Without comment, she turned back the sleeve 
 which came to the wrist gauntlet, and discovered a 
 furrow ridged by a rifle bullet. It was a clean flesh 
 wound, neither deep nor long enough to cause him 
 trouble except for the immediate loss of blood. To 
 her inexperience it looked pretty bad. 
 
 "A plumb scratch," he explained. 
 
 She took the kerchief from her neck, and tied it 
 about the hurt, then pulled down the sleeve and but 
 toned it over the brown forearm. All this she did 
 quite impersonally, her face free of the least syn> 
 pathy. 
 
 "Thank you, ma am. You re a right friendly 
 enemy." 
 
 "It isn t a matter of friendship at all. One 
 couldn t leave a wounded jack rabbit in pain," she 
 retorted coldly, taking up the trail again. 
 
 There was room for two abreast, and he chose to 
 ride beside her. "So you tied me up because it was 
 your Christian duty," he soliloquized aloud. "Just 
 the same as if I had been a mangy coyote that was 
 * suffering." 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 He let his cool eyes rest on her with a hint of 
 amusement. "And what were you thinking of do 
 ing with me now, ma am?" 
 
 "I m going to take you up to Jim Ye*gcr s mine. 
 
MAVERICKS 37 
 
 He is doing his assessment work now, and he ll 
 look out for you for a day or two." 
 
 "Look out for me in a locked room?" he wanted 
 to know casually. 
 
 "I didn t say so. It isn t my business to arrest 
 criminals," she told him icily. 
 
 His eyes gleamed mischief. "Is it your business 
 to help them to escape ?" 
 
 "I m not helping you to escape. I ll not risk 
 ^our dying in the hills alone. That is all." 
 
 "Jim Yeager is your friend?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And you guarantee he ll keep his mouth pad 
 locked and not betray me?" 
 
 "He ll do as he pleases about that," she said in 
 differently. 
 
 "Then I don t reckon I ll trouble his hospitality. 
 Good-by, Miss Sanderson. I ve enjoyed meeting 
 you very much." 
 
 He checked his pony and bowed. 
 
 "Where are you going?" the girl exclaimed. 
 
 "Up Bear Creek" 
 
 "It s twenty miles. You can t do it." 
 
 "Sure I can. Thanks for your kindness, Miss 
 Sanderson. I ll return the handkerchief some 
 day," and with a touch swung round his pony. 
 
 "You re not going. I won t have it, and you 
 wounded !" 
 
 He turned in the saddle, smiling at her with 
 jaunty insouciance. 
 
38 MAVERICKS 
 
 "I ll answer for Jim. He won t betray you,* 
 she promised, subduing her pride. 
 
 "Thanks. I ll take your word for it, but I won t 
 trouble your friend. I ve had all the Christian 
 charity that s good for me this mo ning," he 
 drawled. 
 
 At that she flamed out passionately: "Do you 
 want me to tell you that I like you, knowing what 
 you are? Do you want me to pretend that I feel 
 friendly when I hate you?" 
 
 "Do you want me to be under obligations to 
 folks that hate me?" he came back with his easy 
 smile. 
 
 "You have lost a lot of blood. Your arm is still 
 bleeding. You know I can t let you go alone." 
 
 "You re ce tainly aching for a chance to be a 
 Good Samaritan, Miss Sanderson." 
 
 With this he left her. But he had not gone a 
 hundred yards before he heard her pony cantering 
 after his. One glance told him she was furious, 
 both at him and at herself. 
 
 "Did you come after your handkerchief, ma am? 
 I m not through with it yet," he said innocently. 
 
 "I m going with you. I m not going to leave 
 you till we meet some one that will take charge of 
 you," she choked. 
 
 "It isn t necessary. I m much obliged, ma am, 
 but you re overestimating the effect of this pill 
 your friend injected into me/ 
 
MAVERICKS 39 
 
 "Still, I m going. I won t have your death on 
 my hands," she told him defiantly. 
 
 "Sho! I ain t aimin to pass over the divide on 
 account of a scratch like this. There s no danger 
 but what I can look out for myself." 
 
 She waited in silence for him to start, looking 
 straight ahead of her. 
 
 He tried in vain to argue her out of it. She 
 had nothing to say, and he saw she was obstinately 
 determined to carry her point. 
 
 Finally, with a little chuckle at her stubbornness, 
 he gave in and turned round. 
 
 "All right. Yeager s it is. We re acting like a 
 pair of kids, seems to me." This lasi <#ith a pro 
 pitiatory little smile toward her which she dis 
 dained to answer. 
 
 Yeager saw them from afar, and recognized tlife 
 girl. 
 
 "Hello, Phyllis!" he shouted down, "With you 
 in a minute." 
 
 The girl slipped to the ground, and climbed the 
 steep trail to meet him. Her crisp "Wait here,* 
 flung over her shoulder with the slightest turn of 
 the head, kept Keller in the saddle. 
 
 Halfway up she and the man met. The one\ 
 waiting below could not hear what they said, but he 
 could tell she was explaining the situation to Yea 
 ger. The latter nodded from time to time, pro 
 tested, was vehemently overruled, and seemed to 
 leave the matter with her. Together they retraced 
 
40 MAVERICKS 
 
 their way. Young Yeager, in flannel shirt and 
 half -leg miner s boots, was a splendid specimen of 
 bronzed Arizona. His level gaze judged the man 
 on horseback, approved him, and met him eye to 
 eye. 
 
 "Better light, Mr. Keller. If you come in we ll 
 have a look at your arm. An accident like that is 
 a mighty awkward thing to happen to a man on 
 the trail. It s right fortunate Miss Sanderson 
 found you so soon after it happened." 
 
 The nester knew a surge of triumph in his blood, 
 but it did not show in the impassive face which he 
 turned upon his host. 
 
 "It was right fortunate for me," he said, swing 
 ing from the saddle. Incidentally he was won 
 dering what story had been narrated to Yeager, 
 but he took a chance without hesitation. "A fel 
 low oughtn t to be so careless when he s got a 
 gun in his hand." 
 
 "You re right, seh. In this country of heavy 
 underbrush a man s gun is liable to go off and hit 
 somebody any time if he ain t careful. You re in 
 ,big luck you didn t shoot yourself up a heap worse. " 
 
 Yeager led the way to his cabin, and offered Phyl 
 lis the single chair he boasted, and the nester a 
 seat on the bed. Sitting beside him, he examined 
 the wound and washed it. 
 
 "Comes to being an invalid I m a false alarm/ 
 Keller said apologetically. "I didn t want to come, 
 but Miss Sanderson would bring me." 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "She was dead right, too. Time you had rid 
 den twenty miles through the hot sun with that 
 wound you would have been in a raging fever." 
 
 "One way and another I m quite in her debt." 
 
 That s so," agreed Yeager, intent on his work. 
 
 She refused to meet the nester s smile. "Fiddle 
 sticks! You talk mighty foolish, Jim. I wouldn t 
 go away and leave a wounded dog if I could help 
 it" 
 
 "Suppose the dog were a sheep-killer ?" Keller 
 asked with his engaging, impudent smile. 
 
 A dust cloud rose from her skirt under a stroke 
 of the restless quirt. "I d do my best for it and 
 let it settle with the law afterward." 
 
 "Even if it were a wolf caught in a trap?" 
 
 "I should put it out of its pain. No matter how 
 much I detested it, I wouldn t leave it there to suf 
 fer." 
 
 "I m quite sure you wouldn t," the wounded man 
 agreed. 
 
 Yeager looked from one to the other, not quite 
 catching the drift of the underlying meaning. An 
 other thing puzzled him, too. But, like most men 
 of the unfenced Southwest, Yeager had a large 
 capacity for silence. Now he attended strictly to 
 his business, without mentioning what he had no 
 ticed. 
 
 The wound dressed, Phyllis rose to leave. 
 "You ll be down for your mail to-morrow, Jim/ 
 she suggested, as she sauntered toward the door. 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "Sure. I ll let you know how our patient is get 
 ting along." 
 
 "Oh, he s yours. I don t want any of the 
 credit/ she returned carelessly. 
 
 Then, the words scarce off her lips, she gave a 
 little cry of alarm, and stepped quickly back into 
 the room. What she had seen had sapped the 
 color from her face. Yeager started forward, but 
 she waved him back. 
 
 "It s Phil and Brill Healy. You ve got to hide 
 us, Jim," she told him tensely. 
 
 The nester began to grin. He always did when 
 he faced a difficulty apparently insurmountable. 
 Also his fingers slid toward the butt of his re- 
 volrer. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 "I M A RUSTLER AND A THIEF, AM I?" 
 
 Jim swept the cabin with a gesture. "Where 
 can I hide you? Anyhow, there are the horses in 
 plain sight." 
 
 Phyllis took imperious control. "Get a coat on 
 him, Jim," she ordered. 
 
 At the same time she caught up the basin of 
 bloodstained water and flung its contents through 
 the open window. The torn linen and the stained 
 handkerchief she tossed into a corner and covered 
 with a gunny sack. 
 
 "Not a word about the wound, Jim. Mr. Kel 
 ler is here to help you do your assessment work, 
 remember. And whatever I say, don t give me 
 away." 
 
 Yeager nodded. He had manoeuvred the wounded 
 arm through the coat sleeve and was straightening 
 out the shoulders. The nesters eyes were shining 
 with excitement. Alone of the three, he was en 
 joying himself. 
 
 "Remember now. Don t talk too much. Let 
 me run this," the girl cautioned, and with that she 
 stepped to the door, caught sight of her brother 
 
 43 
 
44 MAVERICKS 
 
 with a glad little cry of apparent relief, and ran 
 swiftly to him. 
 
 "Oh, Phil!" she almost sobbed, and the stress 
 of her emotion was genuine enough, even if she 
 dissembled as to the cause. 
 
 The boy patted her dark hair gently. They were 
 twins, without other near relatives except their 
 father, and the tie between them was close. 
 
 "What is it, Phyllie? Why didn t you stay 
 where we left you?" 
 
 "I was afraid for you. And I rode a little 
 nearer. Then he came straight toward me and I 
 rode away. I could hear him crashing through the 
 mesquite. When I reached the trail of Jim s mine, 
 I followed it, for I knew he would be here." 
 
 "Sure. Course she was scared. What woman 
 wouldn t be? We oughtn t both to have left her. 
 But there wasn t one chance in a thousand of his 
 stumbling on the very spot where she was," said 
 Healy. 
 
 Phil gentled her with a caressing hand. "It s 
 all right now, sis. Did you happen to see the 
 fellow at all ?" 
 
 "Yes. At a distance." 
 
 "I don t suppose you would know him/ Healy; 
 said. 
 
 She gave a strained little laugh. "I didn t wait 
 to get a description of him. Didn t you boys 
 recognize him?" 
 
 After Phil s answer she breathed freer. "We 
 
MAVERICKS 45 
 
 did not get near enough, though Brill got two 
 shots at him as he pulled out. He was going hell- 
 for-leather and Brill missed both times/ He low 
 ered his voice and asked angrily : "What s he doing 
 here?" 
 
 For Keller had followed Yeager from the cabin 
 and was standing in the doorway with his hands 
 in his pockets. He wore no hat, and had the man 
 ner of one very much at home. 
 
 "He s helping Jim with his assessment work/ 
 she answered in the same low tone. "It s too bad 
 you lost the rustler. He must have broken for 
 the hills/ 
 
 Healy s eyes had narrowed to slits. Now he 
 murmured a question : "What about this man Kel 
 ler? Was he here when you came, Phyl?" 
 
 The girl turned to Yeager, who had sauntered 
 up. "Didn t you say he came this morning, 
 Jim?" 
 
 Yeager s eyes were like a stone wall. "Yep. 
 This mo ning. I needed some husky guy to help 
 me, so I got him." 
 
 "Funny you had to get a fellow from Bear 
 Creek to help you, Jim/ 
 
 "Are you looking for a job, Brill ?" 
 
 "No. Why?" 
 
 "Because I ain t noticed any stampede this way 
 among the boys to preempt this job. I take a man 
 where I can find him, Brill, and I don t ask you to 
 O. K. him." 
 
46 MAVERICKS 
 
 "I see you don t, Jim. The boys aren t going to 
 like it very well, though." 
 
 Then they know what they can do about it," 
 Yeager answered evenly, level eyes steadily on 
 those of his critic. 
 
 "What time did this nester get here, Jim?" broke 
 in Phil. 
 
 Yeager s opaque eyes passed from Healy to San 
 derson. "It might have been about eight." 
 
 "Then he couldn t be the man," the boy said to 
 Healy, almost in a whisper. 
 
 "What man?" Jim asked. 
 
 "We ran on a rustler branding a C. O. calf. We 
 got close enough to take a shot at him. Then he 
 slid into some arroyo, and we lost him," Phil ex 
 claimed. 
 
 "How long ago was this?" asked Yeager. 
 
 "About an hour since we first saw him. Beats 
 all how he ever made his getaway. We were right 
 after him when he gave us the slip." 
 
 "Oh, he gave you the slip, did he?" 
 
 "Dropped into some hole and pulled it in after 
 him. These hills are built for hide and seek, looks 
 like." 
 
 "Notice the color of his horse?" 
 
 "It was a roan, Jim. Something like that nest- 
 er s." Phil nodded toward the animal Keller had 
 ridden. 
 
 All eyes focused hard on the horse with the 
 white stockings. 
 
MAVERICKS 47 
 
 "What brand was he putting on the calf? 
 That ll tell you who the man was. * 
 
 Phil and Healy looked at each other, and the 
 latter laughed. "That s one on us. We didn t stay 
 to look, but got right out for Mr. Rustler." 
 
 "Did he kill the cow?" 
 
 Phil nodded. 
 
 "Then you ll find the calf still hanging around 
 there unless he had a pal to drive it away." 
 
 That s right. We ll go back now and look. 
 Ready, Phyl?" 
 
 "Yes." She stepped to her horse, and swung 
 to the saddle. 
 
 Meanwhile Healy rode forward to the cabin. 
 Through narrowed lids he looked down at the man 
 standing in the doorway. "Give that message to 
 your friends?" he demanded insolently. 
 
 There are men who have to look at each other 
 only once to know that there is born between them 
 a perpetual hostility. Each of these men had felt 
 it at the first shock of meeting eyes. They would 
 feel it again as often as they looked at each 
 other. 
 
 "No," the nester answered. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "I didn t care to. You may carry your own 
 messages." 
 
 "When I do I ll carry them with a gun." 
 
 "Interesting if true." Keller s gaze passed de 
 risively over him and dismissed the man. 
 
48 MAVERICKS 
 
 "And I hope when I come I ll meet Mr. Keller 
 first." 
 
 The nester s attention was focused indolently 
 upon the hills. He seemed to have forgotten that 
 the cattleman was in Arizona. 
 
 Healy ripped out a sudden oath, drove the spurs 
 in, and went down the trail with his broncho on the 
 buck. 
 
 Keller looked at Yeager and laughed, but that 
 young man met him with a frosty eye. 
 
 "I ve got some questions to ask you, Mr. Kel 
 ler," he said. 
 
 "Unload em." 
 
 Yeager led the way inside, offered his guest the 
 chair, and sat down on the bed with his arms on 
 the table which had been drawn close to it. 
 
 "In the first place, I ll announce myself. I don t 
 hold with rustlers or waddies. I m a white man. 
 That being understood, I want to know where 
 we re at." 
 
 "Meaning?" 
 
 "Miss Phyllis unloads a story on me about you 
 shooting yourself up accidental. Soon as I looked 
 at you that looked fishy to me. You ain t that, 
 kind of a durn fool. Would you mind handing 
 me a dipper of water? Thanks." Yeager tossed 
 the water out of the window, and the dipper back 
 into the pail. "I noticed you handed me that water 
 with your right hand. Your gun is on your rigfot 
 skk. Then how in Mexico, you being right- 
 
MAVERICKS 49 
 
 handed, did you manage to shoot yourself in the 
 right arm below the elbow?" 
 
 Keller laughed dryly, and offered no informa 
 tion. "Quite a Sherlock Holmes, ain t you?" 
 
 "Hell, no ! I got eyes in my head, though. More 
 over, that bullet went in at right angles to your 
 arm. How did you make out to do that ?" 
 
 "Sleight of hand/ suggested the other. 
 
 "No powder marks, either. And, lastly, it was 
 a rifle did it, not a revolver/ 
 
 "Anything more?" 
 
 "Some. That side talk between you and Miss 
 Phyllis wasn t over and above clear to me th^n. I 
 saves it now. She hates you like p ison, but she s 
 too tender-hearted to give you up. Ain t that it?" 
 
 "That s it." 
 
 "She lied for you to me. She lied again to Phil, 
 So did I. Oh, we didn t lie in words, but it s the 
 same thing. Now, I wouldn t lie to save my own 
 skin. Why then should I for yours, and you a rus 
 tler and a thief?" 
 
 "I m a rustler and a thief, am I ?" 
 
 "Ain t you?" 
 
 "Would you believe me if I said I wasn t?" 
 
 Yeager debated an instant before he answered 
 flatly, "No." 
 
 "Then I won t say it." 
 
 The wounded man tossed his answer off so flip- 
 pantiy that Yeager scowled at him. "Mr. Keller, 
 you re a newcomer here. I wonder if you know 
 
50 MAVERICKS 
 
 what the Malpais country would be liable to do to 
 a man caught rustling now." 
 
 "I can guess." 
 
 "Let me tell what I know and your life wouldn t 
 be worth a plugged quarter." 
 
 "Why didn t you tell?" 
 
 Yeager brought his big fist down heavily on the 
 table. "Because of Phyl Sanderson. That s 
 why. She put it up to me, and I played her game. 
 But I ain t sure I m going to keep on playing it. 
 I m a Malpais man. My father has a ranch down 
 there, and I ve rode the range all my life. Why 
 should I throw down my friends to save a rustler 
 caught in the act?" 
 
 "You ve already tried and convicted me, I see." 
 
 "The facts convict you, seh." 
 
 "Your understanding of the facts, I reckon you 
 
 mean." 
 
 "I haven t noticed that you re giving me any 
 chance to understand them different," Yeager cut 
 back dryly. 
 
 The nester took from his pocket a little pearl- 
 handled knife, picked up a potato from a basket 
 beside him, and began to whittle on it absently. 
 He looked across the table at the man sitting on 
 the bed, and debated a question in his mind. Was 
 it best to confess the whole truth? Or should he 
 keep his own counsel? 
 
 "I see you ve got Miss Sanderson s knife. Did 
 you forget to return it ?" Yeager made comment. 
 
MAVERICKS 51 
 
 For just an instant Keller s eye confessed amaze 
 ment. "Miss Sanderson s knife! Why how did 
 you know it was hers?" he asked, gathering him 
 self together lamely. 
 
 "I ought to know, seeing as I gave it to her for 
 ia Christmas present. Sent to Denver for that 
 knife, I did. Best lady s knife in the market, I m 
 told. Made in Sheffield, England." 
 
 "Ye-es. It s sure a good knife. I ll ce tainly 
 return it next time I see her." 
 
 "Funny she ever let you get away with it. She s 
 some particular who she lends that knife to," Jim 
 said proudly. 
 
 Keller wiped the blade carefully, shut it, and put 
 the knife back in his pocket. Nevertheless, he was 
 worried in his mind. For what Yeager had told 
 him changed wholly the problem before him. It 
 suggested a possibility, even a probability, very 
 distasteful to him. He was in trouble himself, and 
 before he was through he expected to get others 
 into deep water, too. But not Phyllis Sanderson 
 surely not this impulsive girl with the blue-black 
 hair and dark, scornful eyes. Wherefore he de 
 cided to keep silent now and let Yeager do what 
 he would. 
 
 "I reckon, seh, you ll have to do your own guess 
 ing at the facts," he said gently. 
 
 "Just as you say, Mr. Keller. I reckon if you 
 had anything to say for yourself you would say it. 
 Now, I ll do what talking I ve got to do. You 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 may stay here twenty- four hours. After that you 
 may hit the trail for Bear Creek. I m going* down 
 to Seven Mile to tell what I know/ 
 
 "That s all right. I ll go along and return the 
 pocketknife." 
 
 Yeager viewed him with stern disgust. "Don t 
 make any mistake, seh. If you go down it s an 
 even chance you ll never go back." 
 
 "Sure. Life s full of chances. There s even a 
 chance I m not a rustler." 
 
 "Then I d advise you not to go down to Seven 
 Mile with me. I d hate to find out too late I d 
 helped hang the wrong man," Yeager dryly an 
 swered. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 AN AIDER AND ABETTOR 
 
 Having come to an understanding, Yeager and 
 Keller wasted no time or temper in acrimony. Both 
 of them belonged to that big outdoors West which 
 plays the game to the limit without littleness. 
 They were in hostile camps, but that did not pre 
 vent them from holding amiable conversation on 
 the common topics of Cattleland. Only one of 
 these they avoided by mutual consent Neither of 
 them had anything to say about rustling. 
 
 Together they ate and smoked and slept, and in 
 the morning after breakfast they saddled and set 
 out for Seven Mile. A man might have traveled 
 far without seeing finer specimens of the frontier, 
 any more competent, self-restrained, or fitter for 
 emergency. They rode with straight back and 
 loose seat, breaking long silences with occasional 
 drawling comment. For in the cow country strong 
 men talk only when they have something to say. 
 
 The stage had just left when they reached Seven 
 Mile, and Public Opinion was seated on the porch 
 as per custom. It regarded Keller with a stony, 
 
 53 
 
54 MAVERICKS 
 
 expressionless hostility. Yeager with frank disap 
 probation. 
 
 Just before swinging from the saddle, Jim 
 turned to the nester. "I m giving you an hour, seh. 
 After that, I m going to speak my little piece to 
 the boys." 
 
 "Thank you. An hour will be plenty/ Keller 
 answered, and passed into the store, apparently 
 oblivious of the silent observation focused upon 
 him. 
 
 Phyllis, busy unwrapping a package of papers, 
 glanced up to see his curly head in the stamp win 
 dow. 
 
 "Anything for L. Keller?" he wanted to know, 
 after he had unburdened himself of a friendly 
 "Mornin , Miss Sanderson." 
 
 Her impulse was to ask him how his wound was, 
 but she repressed it sternly. She took the letters 
 from the K pigeonhole and found two for him. 
 
 "Thank you, I m feeling fine," he laughed, gath 
 ering up his mail. 
 
 "I didn t ask you how you were feeling/ she 
 answered, turning coldly to her newspapers. 
 
 "I thought mebbe you d want to know about my 
 punctured tire." 
 
 "It s very good of you to relieve my anxiety." 
 
 "Let me relieve it some more, Miss Sanderson. 
 Here s the knife you lost." 
 
 She glanced up carelessly at the pearl-handled 
 
MAVERICKS 55 
 
 knife he pushed through the window. "I didn t 
 know it was lost." 
 
 "Well, now you know it s found When do 
 you remember seeing it last, ma am?" 
 
 "I lent it to a friend two days ago." 
 
 "Oh, to a friend two days ago." 
 
 His eyes were on her so steadily that the girl 
 was aware of some significance he gave to the fact, 
 some hidden meaning that escaped her. 
 
 "What friend did you say, Miss Sanderson?" 
 
 He asked it casually, but his question irritated 
 her. 
 
 "I didn t say, sir." 
 
 "That s so. You didn t" 
 
 "Where did you get it?" she demanded. 
 
 He grinned. "I ll tell you that if you ll tell me 
 who you lent it to." 
 
 Her curt answer reminded him that he was in her 
 eyes a convicted criminal. "It s of no importance, 
 
 sir." 
 
 "That s what you think, Miss Sanderson." 
 She sorted the newspapers in the bundle, and 
 began to slip them into the private boxes where 
 they belonged. Presently, however, her curiosity 
 demanded satisfaction. Without looking at him, 
 she volunteered information. 
 
 "But there s no mystery about it. Phil borrowed 
 the knife to fix a stirrup leather, and forgot to give 
 it back to me." 
 
56 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Your brother?" 
 
 "Yes/ 
 
 He was taken aback. There was nothing for it 
 but a white lie. "I found it near Yeager s mine 
 yesterday. I reckon he must have dropped it on 
 his way there." 
 
 "I don t see anything very mysterious about 
 that," she said frostily. 
 
 She looked so definitely unaware of him as she 
 worked that he fell back from the window and 
 passed out to the porch. He had found out more 
 than he wanted to know. 
 
 Jim Yeager s drawling voice came to him, gen 
 tle and low as usual, but with an edge to it. "I 
 been discoverin I m some unpopular to-day, Brill. 
 Malpais has been expressin its opinion right plain. 
 You ve arrived in time to chirp in with a Me, 
 too/ " 
 
 Healy had evidently just ridden up, for he was 
 still in the saddle. He relaxed into one of the easy, 
 attitudes used by men of the plains to rest them 
 selves without dismounting. 
 
 "You know my sentiments, Jim," he replied, not 
 unamiably. 
 
 "Sure I know them. Plumb dissatisfied with me, 
 ain t you? Makes me feel awful bad." Jim was 
 sailing into the full tide of his sarcasm when Kel 
 ler touched him on the shoulder. 
 
 "I d like to see you for a moment, Mr. Yeager, 
 if you can give me the time," he said. 
 
MAVERICKS 57 
 
 Healy took in the nester with an eye of jade. 
 "Your twin brother wants you, Jim. Run along 
 with him. Don t mind us/ 
 
 "I won t, Brill." 
 
 The young man rose, and sauntered off with the 
 Bear Creek settler. At the corral fence, some fifty 
 yards from the house, he stopped under the shade 
 of a live oak, and put his arms on the top rail. He 
 had allowed himself to show no sign of it, but he 
 resented this claim upon him that seemed to ally 
 him further with the enemy. 
 
 "Here I am, Mr. Keller. What can I do for 
 you?" 
 
 "You re a friend of Miss Sanderson. You would 
 stand between her and trouble?" the other de 
 manded abruptly. 
 
 "I expect." 
 
 "Then find out for me what Phil Sanderson did 
 with the knife his sister lent him two days ago. 
 Find out whether he lent it to anybody, and, if so, 
 who." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 It had come to a show-down, and the other tabled 
 \his cards. 
 
 "I found that knife yesterday mo ning. It waft 
 lying beside the dead cow in the park where your 
 friends happened on me. I reckon the rustlers must 
 have heard me coming and drove the calf away 
 just before I arrived. In his hurry one of them 
 forgot that knife. If you ll tell me the man who 
 
58 MAVERICKS 
 
 had it in his pocket yesterday when he left home, 
 I ll tell you who one of the Malpais rustlers is." 
 
 Jim considered this, his gaze upon the far-away 
 range. When he brought it back to Keller, he was 
 smiling incredulously. 
 
 "I hear you say so, seh. But what a man with 
 a halter round his neck says don t go far before a 
 court." 
 
 "I expected you to say about that" 
 
 "Then I haven t disappointed you." He con 
 tinued presently, with cold hostility: "That story 
 you cooked up is about the only one you could 
 spring. What surprises me is that a man with as 
 good a head as yours took twenty-four hours to fig 
 ure out your explanation. I want to tell you, too, 
 that it don t make any hit with me that you re try 
 ing to throw the blame on a boy I ve known all my 
 life." 
 
 "Who happens to be a brother of Miss Sander 
 son," Keller let himself suggest. 
 
 Yeager flushed. "That ain t the point." 
 
 "The point is that I m trying to clear this boy, 
 and I want your help." 
 
 "Looks to me like you want to clear yourself." 
 
 "If I prove to you that I m not a rustler, will you, v 
 padlock your tongue and help me clear young San-^ 
 derson?" 
 
 "I sure will if you prove it to my satisfaction/ 
 
 Keller drew from his pocket the two letters he 
 had just received. "Read these." 
 
MAVERICKS 59 
 
 When he had read, Yeager handed them back, 
 and offered his hand. "That clears you, seh. Truth 
 is, I never was satisfied you was a rustler. My 
 mind was satisfied; but, durn it, you didn t look 
 like a waddy. It s lucky I hadn t spoke to the boys 
 yet." 
 
 "I want to keep this quiet," the Bear Creek set 
 tler explained. 
 
 "Sure. I m a clam, and at your service, seh/ 
 
 "Then find out the truth about the knife." 
 
 Yeager s eye chiselled into that of Keller. 
 "Mind, I ain t going to help you bring trouble to 
 Phyllie, and I ain t going to stand by and see it, 
 either." 
 
 The other smiled. "I don t ask it of you. What 
 I want is to clear the boy." 
 
 "Good enough," agreed Yeager, and led the way 
 back. 
 
 Before they had yet reached the house, a figure 
 dropped from the foliage of the live oak under 
 which they had been standing, and rolled like a 
 ball from the fence into the deep dust of the corral. 
 It picked itself up in a gray cloud, from which 
 shone as a nucleus a black face with beady eyes and 
 flashing white teeth. Swiftly it scampered across 
 the paddock, disappeared into the rear of the stable, 
 and reappeared at the front door. 
 
 "Here you, Rastus, where you been?" demanded 
 the wrangler. "Didn t I tell you to clean Miss 
 Phyl s trap? I ve wore my lungs out hollering for 
 
60 MAVERICKS 
 
 you. Now, you git to work, or I ll wear you to a 
 frazzle." 
 
 Rastus, general alias for his baptismal name of 
 George Washington Abraham Lincoln Randolph, 
 grinned and ducked, shot out of the stable like a 
 streak of light, and appeared ten seconds later in 
 the kitchen presided over by his rotund mother, 
 Becky. 
 
 His abrupt entrance disturbed the maternal after- 
 dinner nap. From the rocking-chair where she sat 
 Becky rolled affronted eyes at him. 
 
 "What you doin here, Gawge Washington? 
 Ain t I done tole you sebenty times seben to keep 
 outa my kitchen at dis time o day?" 
 
 "I wanter see Miss Phyl." 
 
 "Then I low you kin take it out in wantin . 
 Think she got time to fool away on a nigger sprout 
 like you-all? Light a shuck back to the stable, 
 where you belong." 
 
 Rastus grinned amiably, flung himself at a door, 
 and vanished into that part of the house which was 
 forbidden territory to him, the while Becky stared 
 after him in amazement 
 
 "What in tarnation got in dat nigger child ?" she 
 gasped. 
 
 Phyllis, having arranged the mail and delivered 
 most of it, had left the store in charge of the clerk 
 and retired to her private den, a cool room finished 
 in restful tints at the northeast corner of the house. 
 She was sitting by a window reading a magazine, 
 
MAVERICKS 61 
 
 when there came a knock. Her "Come in" dis 
 closed Rastus and the whites of his rolling eyes. 
 
 She nodded and smiled. "What can I do for 
 you, George Washington Abraham Lincoln Ran 
 ^dolph?" 
 
 "I done come to tell you somepin I heerd whilst 
 I was asleep in de live oak at the corral." 
 
 "Something you dreamed. It is very good of 
 you, George Wash " 
 
 "Now, don t you call me all dat again, Miss Phyl. 
 And I didn t dream it nerrer. I woke up and heerd 
 it. Mr. Jim Yeager and dat nester they call Kel 
 ler wuz a-talkin , and Mr. Jim he allowed dat Kel 
 ler wuz a rustler, and den Keller he allowed dat 
 Mr. Phil wuz de rustler/ 
 
 "What!" The girl had sprung to her feet, 
 amazed, her dark eyes blazing indignation. 
 
 "Tha s what he said. He went on to tell how he 
 done found a knife by the dead cow, an twuz yore 
 knife, an you done loan it to Mr. Phil." 
 
 "He said that !" She was a creature transformed 
 by passion. The hot blood of Southern ancestors 
 raced through her veins clamorously. She wanted 
 to strike down this man, to annihilate him and the 
 cowardly lie he had given to shield himself. And 
 1 pat to her need came the very person she could best 
 use for her instrument. 
 
 Healy stood surprised in the doorway, con 
 fronted by the slender yottng amazon. The storm 
 of passion in the eyes, the underlying flush in the 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 dusky cheeks, indicated a new mood in his experi 
 ence of this young woman of many moods. 
 
 "Come in and shut the door," she ordered. Then, 
 "Tell him, Rastus." 
 
 The boy, all smiles gone now, repeated his story,j 
 and was excused. 
 
 "What do you think of that, Brill?" the girl de 
 manded, after the door had closed on him. 
 
 The stockman s eyes had grown hard. "I think 
 Keller s covering his own tracks. Of course we ve 
 got no direct proof, but " 
 
 "We have," she broke in. 
 
 "I can t see it. According to Jim Yeager " 
 
 "Jim lied. I asked him to." 
 
 "You what?" 
 
 "I asked him to say that this man had come there 
 to work for him. Jim was not to blame." 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 She threw out a gesture of self-contempt "Why 
 did I do it? I don t know. Because he was 
 wounded, I suppose." 
 
 "Wounded! Then I did hit him?" 
 
 "Yes. In the arm a flesh wound. I met him 
 riding through the mesquite. After I had tied up 
 his wound, I took him to Jim s." 
 
 His eyes narrowed slightly. "So you tied up his 
 wound ?" 
 
 "Yes," she answered defiantly, her head up. 
 
 "That tender heart of yours," he murmured, with 
 almost a sneer. 
 
MAVERICKS 63 
 
 "Yes. I m a fool." 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, well." 
 
 "And he pays me back by trying to throw it o* 
 Phil. Hunt him down, Brill. Bring him to me. 
 I ll tell all I know against him/ she cried vindic 
 tively. 
 
 "I ll get him, Phyl/ he promised, and the sound 
 of his laughter was not pleasant. "I ll get him for 
 you, or find out why." 
 
 "Think of him trying to put it on Phil, and after 
 I stood by him and kept his secret. Isn t that the 
 worst ever?" the girl flamed. 
 
 "He rode away not five minutes ago as big as 
 coffee on that ugly roan of his with the white 
 stockings; knew what we thought about him, but 
 didn t pay any more attention to us than as if we 
 were bumps on a log." 
 
 Healy strode out to the porch, told his story, and 
 within five minutes had organized his posse and ap 
 pointed a rendezvous for two hours later at Seven 
 Mile. 
 
 At the appointed time his men were on hand, six 
 of them, armed with rifles and revolvers, ready for 
 grim business. 
 
 From her window Phyllis saw them ride away, 
 and persuaded herself that she was glad. Ven 
 geance was about to fall upon this insolent free 
 booter who had not even manhood enough to appre 
 ciate a kindness. But as the hours passed she was 
 beset by a consuming anxiety. What more likely 
 
64. MAVERICKS 
 
 than that he would resist! If so, there could be 
 only one end. She could not keep her thoughts 
 from those seven men whom she had sent against 
 the one. 
 
 There was nobody to whom she could talk about 
 it, for Phil and her father were away at Noches. 
 Restless as a caged panther, she twice had her horse 
 brought to the door, and rode into the hills to meet 
 her posse. But she could not be sure which way 
 they would come, and after venturing a short dis 
 tance she would return for fear they might arrive 
 in her absence. Night had fallen over the country, 
 and the stars were out long before she got back the 
 second time. Nine ten eleven o clock struck, 
 and still no sign of those for whom she waited. 
 
 At last they came, their prisoner riding in the 
 midst, bareheaded and with his hands tied. 
 
 "I ve got him, Phyl !" Healy cried in a voice that 
 told the girl he was riding on a wave of triumph. 
 
 "I see you have." 
 
 Nevertheless she looked not at the victor, but at 
 the vanquished, and never had she seen a man who 
 looked more master of his fate than this one. He 
 was smiling down at her whimsically, and she saw 
 they had not taken him without a struggle. The 
 marks of it were on them and on him. Healy s 
 cheek bone was laid open in a nasty cut, and Slim 
 had a handkerchief tied round his head. 
 
 As for Keller, his shirt was in ribbons and dyed 
 with the stains of blood from the wound that had 
 
MAVERICKS 65 
 
 broken out again in the battle. The hair on the 
 left side of his head was clotted with dried blood, 
 and his cheeks were covered with it. Both eyes 
 were blacked, and hands and face were scratched 
 badly. But his mien was as jaunty, his smile as gal 
 lant, as if he had come at the head of a conquering 
 army. 
 
 "Good evenin , Miss Sanderson," he bowed 
 ironically. 
 
 She looked at him, and turned away without an 
 swering. She heard Healy curse softly and knew 
 why. This man contrived somehow to rob him of 
 his triumph. 
 
 "You are none of you hurt, Brill?" the girl asked 
 in a low voice. 
 
 "No. He fought like a wild cat, but we took him 
 by surprise. He had only his bare fists." 
 
 "How about him ? Is he hurt ?" 
 
 "I don t know or care," the man answered sul 
 lenly. 
 
 "But he must be looked to." 
 
 "I don t know why. It ain t my fault we had to 
 beat him up." 
 
 "I didn t say it was your fault, Brill," she an 
 swered gently. "But any one can see he has lost 
 a lot of blood, and his wounds are full of dust, 
 They must be washed. I want l\m brought into 
 the house. Aunt Becky and I will look after him.** 
 
 "No need of that. Slim will fix him up." 
 
 She shook her head. "No, Brill." 
 
66 MAVERICKS 
 
 His eyes gave way first, but his surrender came 
 with a bad grace. 
 
 "All right, Phyl. But he s going to be covered 
 by a gun all the time. I m not taking chances on 
 
 "Then have him taken into my den. I ll wake 
 Aunt Becky and we ll be there in a few minutes." 
 
 When Phyllis arrived with Aunt Becky she found 
 the nester sitting on the lounge, Healy opposite him 
 with a revolver close to his hand. The prisoner s 
 arms had been freed. His sardonic smile still 
 twitched at the corners of his mouth. 
 
 "You ve ce tainly begun your practice on a dis 
 reputable patient, Doctor Sanderson. I haven t had 
 time to comb my hair since that little seance with 
 your friends. We sure did have a sociable time. 
 They re all good mixers." He looked into the long 
 glass opposite, laughed at sight of his swollen face, 
 then rattled into a misquotation of some verses he 
 remembered : 
 
 "There s many a black black eye, they say, but none so 
 
 bright as mine; 
 For I m to be Queen o* the May, mother, I m to be Queen 
 
 o the May." 
 
 "Put the water and things down on that table, 
 Becky," her mistress told her, ignoring the man s 
 blithe folly. 
 
 "I m giving you lots of chances to do the Good 
 Samaritan act," he continued. "Honest, I hate to 
 
MAVERICKS 67 
 
 be so much trouble. You ll have to blame Mr. 
 Healy. He s the responsible party for these little 
 accidents of mine." 
 
 "I m going to be responsible for one more," the 
 stockman told him darkly. 
 
 "I understand your intentions are good, but Fvej 
 noticed that sometimes expectation outruns per 
 formance," his prisoner came back promptly. 
 
 "Not this time, I think." 
 
 Phyllis understood that Brill was threatening the 
 nester and that the latter was defying him lightly, 
 but what either meant precisely she did not know. 
 She proceeded to business without a word except 
 the necessary directions to Becky. Not until the 
 arm was dressed and the wound on the head washed 
 and bandaged did she address Keller. 
 
 "I ll send you a powder that will help you get to 
 sleep. The doctor left it here for Phil, and he did 
 not need it," she said. 
 
 "Mebbe I won t need it, either." Keller laughed 
 hardily, at his enemy it seemed to the girl, and with 
 some hint of a sinister understanding between them 
 from which she was excluded. "Thanks just the 
 same, for that and for everything else you ve done 
 for me." 
 
 Phyllis said "Good night" stiffly, and followed 
 the old negress out. She went directly to her bed 
 room, but not to sleep. The night was hot, and it 
 had been to her a day full of excitement. She had 
 much to think of. Going to the open window, she 
 
68 MAVERICKS 
 
 sat down in a low chair with her arms across the 
 sill. 
 
 Two men met beneath her window. 
 
 "Gimme the makings, Slim," one said to the 
 other. 
 
 While he was shaking the tobacco from the pouch 
 to the paper, Slim spoke. "The boys ought all to 
 be here in another hour, Budd. After that, it 
 won t take us long/ 
 
 "Not long," the fat man answered uneasily. 
 
 There was a silence. Slim broke it. "We got to 
 do it, o course." 
 
 "Looks like. Got to make an example. No 
 peace on the range till we do." 
 
 "I hate like sin to, Budd. He s so damn 
 game." 
 
 "Me, too. But we got to. No two ways about 
 it." 
 
 "I reckon. Brill says so. But I wish the cuss 
 had a chanct to fight for his life." 
 
 They moved off together in troubled silence, 
 Budd s cigarette glowing red in the darkness. Be 
 hind them they left a girl shocked and rigid. They 
 .were going to lynch him ! She knew it as certainly 
 as if she had been told it in set words. Her blood 
 grew cold, and she shivered. While the confused 
 horror of it raced through her brain, she noticed 
 subconsciously that her fingers on the sill were 
 trembling violently. 
 
 What could she do ? She was only a girl. These 
 
MAVERICKS 69 
 
 men deferred to her in the trivial pleasantries, but 
 she knew they would go their grim way no mat 
 ter how she pleaded. And it would be her fault. 
 She had betrayed the rustler to them. It would be 
 the same as if she had murdered him. He had 
 known while she was tending his wounds that she 
 had delivered him to death, and he had not even re 
 proached her. 
 
 Courage flowed back to her heart. She would 
 save him if it were possible. It must be by strat 
 egy if at all. But how? For of course he was 
 guarded. 
 
 She stepped out into the corridor. All was dark 
 there. She tiptoed along it to the guest room, and 
 found the door unlocked. Nobody was inside. She 
 canvassed in her mind the possibilities. They might 
 have him outdoors or in the men s bunk house with 
 them under a guard, or they might have locked him 
 up somewhere until the arrival of the others. If 
 the latter, it must be in the store, since that was the 
 only safe place under lock and key. 
 
 Phyllis slipped out of the back door into the 
 darkness, and skirted the house at a distance. There 
 were lights in the bunk house of the ranch riders, 
 and through the window she could see a group 
 gathered. Creeping close to the window, she looked 
 in. Their prisoner was not with them. In front of 
 the store two men were seated in the darkness. She 
 was almost upon them before she saw them. Each 
 of them carried a rifle. 
 
70 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Hello! Who s that?" one of them cried sharply. 
 
 It was Tom Dixon. 
 
 Phyllis came forward and spoke. "That you, 
 Tom? I suppose you are guarding the prisoner." 
 
 "Yep. Can t you sleep, Phyl?" He walked a 
 dozen yards with her. 
 
 "I couldn t, but I see you re keeping watch, all 
 right. I probably can now. I suppose I was nerv 
 ous." 
 
 "No wonder. But you may sleep, all right. He 
 won t trouble you any. I ll guarantee that," he 
 promised largely. "Oh, Phyl!" 
 
 She had turned to go, but she stopped at his call. 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Don t you be mad at me. I was only fooling 
 the other day. Course I hadn t ought to have got 
 gay. But a fellow makes a break once in a while." 
 
 Under the stress of her deeper anxiety she had 
 forgotten all about her tiff with him. It had seemed 
 important at the time, but since then Tom and his 
 affairs had been relegated to second place in her 
 mind. He was only a boy, full of the vanity that 
 was a part of him. Somehow, her anger against 
 him was all burnt out. 
 
 "If you never will again, Tom," she conceded. 
 
 "I ll be good," he smiled, meaning that he would 
 be good as long as he must. 
 
 "All right," she said, without much enthusiasm. 
 
 She left him and passed into the house without 
 haste. But once inside she fairly flew to Phil s 
 
MAVERICKS 71 
 
 room. On a nail near the head of his bed hung a 
 key. She took this, descended to the kitchen, and 
 from there noiselessly down the stairway to the cel 
 lar. She groped her way without a light along the 
 adobe wall till she came to a door which was un 
 locked. This opened into another part of the cel 
 lar used as a room for storing supplies needed in 
 their trade. Past barrels and boxes she went to 
 another stairway and breathlessly ascended it. At 
 the top of eight or nine steps a door barred prog 
 ress. Very carefully she found the keyhole, fitted 
 in the key, and by infinitesimal degrees unlocked 
 the door. 
 
 The night seemed alive with the noise of he* 
 movements. Now the door creaked as it swung 
 open before her. She waited, heart beating like a 
 trip hammer, and stared into the blackness of the 
 store. 
 
 "Who is it ?" a voice asked in a low tone. 
 
 "It s me, Phyl Sanderson. Are you alone?" she 
 whispered. 
 
 "Yes. Tied to a chair. Guards are just outside." 
 
 She went toward him softly with hands out 
 stretched in the darkness, and presently her fingers 
 touched his face. They travelled downward till 
 they found the ropes which bound him. For a 
 moment she fumbled at the knots before she re 
 membered a swifter way. 
 
 "Wait," she breathed, and stole back of the coun 
 ter to the case where pocketknives were kept. 
 
72 MAVERICKS 
 
 Finding one, she ran to him and hacked at the 
 rope till he was free. 
 
 He rose and stretched his cramped limbs. 
 
 "This way." Phyllis took him by the hand, and 
 led him to the stairs. Together they descended, 
 after she had locked the door. Another minute, 
 ..and they stood in the kitchen, still hand in hand. 
 
 The girl released herself. "You will find Slim s 
 horse tied to the fence of the corral. When you 
 reach it, ride for your life," she said. 
 
 "Why have you saved me after you betrayed 
 me ?" he demanded. 
 
 "I save you because I did betray you. I couldn t 
 have your blood on my head. Now, go/ 
 
 "Not till I know why you betrayed me." 
 
 "You can ask that." Her indignation gathered 
 and broke. "Because you are what you are. Be 
 cause I know what you told Jim Yeager this after 
 noon. Why don t you go ?" 
 
 "What did I tell Yeager? About the knife, you 
 mean?" 
 
 "You tried to lay it on Phil to save yourself." 
 
 "Did Yeager tell you that?" 
 
 "No, but I know it." She pushed him toward the 
 door. "Go, while there is still a chance." 
 
 "I m not going not yet. Not till you promise 
 to ask Yeager what I said." 
 
 A footstep sounded, and the door opened. The 
 intruder stopped, his hand still on the handle, aware 
 that there were others in the room. 
 
MAVERICKS 73 
 
 "Who is it?" Phyllis breathed, stricken almost 
 dumb with terror. 
 
 "It s Slim. Hope I ain t buttin in, Phyllie." 
 
 Unconsciously he had given her the cue she 
 needed. 
 
 "Well, you are." She laughed nervously, as 
 might a lover caught unexpectedly. "It s it s 
 Phil," she pretended to pretend. 
 
 "Oh, it s Phil." Slim laughed in kindly derision, 
 and declared before he went out: "I expect you 
 would spell his name B-r-i-double 1. Don t forget 
 to invite me to the wedding, Phyllie. Meanwhile 
 I ll be mum as a clam till you say the word." 
 
 With which he jingled away. The door was 
 scarce closed before the girl turned on Keller. 
 
 "There ! You see. They may catch you any mo 
 ment." 
 
 "Will you ask Yeager?" 
 
 "Yes, if you ll go." 
 
 "All right. I ll go." 
 
 Still he did not leave. The magic of this slim 
 girl had swept him from his feet. In imagination 
 hs still felt the touch of her warm fingers, soft as a 
 caress, the thrill of her hair as it had brushed his 
 cheek when she had stooped over him. The drag 
 of sex was upon him and had set him trembling 
 strangely. 
 
 "Why don t you go?" she cried softly. 
 
 He snatched himself away. 
 
 But before he had reached the door he came back 
 
74- MAVERICKS 
 
 in two strides. Startled and unnerved, she waited 
 on him. He caught both her hands in his, and 
 opened them wide so that she was drawn toward 
 him by the swing of the motion. There for an in 
 stant he stood, looking down into her eyes by the 
 faint light that sifted through the window upon 
 her. 
 
 "What what do you want?" she demanded 
 tremulously, emotion flooding her in waves. 
 
 "Why are you saving me, girl ?" 
 
 "I don t know. I ve told you why." 
 
 "I m a villain, by your way of it, yet you save 
 my life even while you think me a skunk. I can t 
 thank you. What s the use of trying?" 
 
 He looked down into her eyes, and that gaze did 
 more than thank her. It told her he would never 
 forget and never let her forget. How it happened 
 she could not afterward remember, but she found 
 herself in his arms, his kiss tingling through her 
 blood like wine. 
 
 She thrust him from her and he was gone. 
 
 She sank into a chair^beside the kitchen table, 
 her pulses athrob with excitement. Scorn herself 
 she might and would in good time, but just now 
 her whole capacity for emotion was keyed to an 
 agony of apprehension for this prince of scamps. 
 By the beating of her galloping heart she timed his 
 steps. He must have reached the horse now. Al 
 ready he would have it untied, would be in the sad 
 dle. Surely by this time he had eluded the sentries 
 
MAVERICKS 75 
 
 and was slipping out of the danger zone. Before 
 him lay the open road, the hills, and safety. 
 
 A cry rang out in the stillness and another. A 
 shot, the beat of running feet, a panted oath, more 
 shots ! The silent night had suddenly become vocal 
 with action and the fierce passions of men. She 
 covered her face with her hands to shut out the 
 vision of what her imagination conjured a horse 
 flying with empty saddle into the darkness, while 
 a huddled figure sank together lifeless by the road 
 side. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 A GOOD FRIEND 
 
 How long she remained there Phyllis did not 
 know. Fear drummed at her heart. She was sick 
 with apprehension. At last her very terror drove 
 her out to learn the worst. She walked round to 
 the front of the house and saw a light in the store. 
 Swiftly she ran across and up the steps to the porch. 
 Three men were inside examining the empty chair 
 by the light of a lantern one held in his hand. 
 
 "Did did he get away?" the girl faltered. 
 
 The men turned. One of them was Slim. He 
 held in his hand pieces of the slashed rope and the 
 open pocket-knife that had freed the prisoner. 
 
 "Looks like it," Slim answered. "With some 
 help from a friend. Now, I wonder who that use 
 ful friend was and how in time he got in here ?" 
 
 Her eyes betrayed her. Just for an instant they 
 swept to the cellar door, to make sure it was still 
 shut. But that one glance was enough. Slim, 
 about to speak, changed his mind, and stared at her 
 with parted lips. She saw suspicion grow in his 
 face and resolve itself to certainty, helped to deci 
 sion by the telltale color dyeing her cheeks. 
 
 76 
 
MAVERICKS 77 
 
 "Does the cellar stairway from the store connect 
 with the kitchen cellar, Phyllie?" he asked. 
 
 "Ye-es." 
 
 He nodded, then laughed without mirth. "I 
 reckon I can tell you, boys, who Mr. Keller s friend 
 in need is." 
 
 "Who? I d like right well to know." Brill 
 Healy, in a pallid fury, had just come in and was 
 listening. 
 
 Phyllis turned and faced him. "I was that 
 friend, Brill." 
 
 "You!" He stared at her in astonishment. 
 "You! Why, it was you sent me out to run him 
 down." 
 
 "I didn t tell you that I wanted you to murder 
 him, did I?" 
 
 "I guess there s a lot between him and you that 
 you didn t tell me," he jeered. 
 
 Slim grinned, not at all maliciously. "I reckon 
 that s right. I don t need to ask you now, Phyllie, 
 who it was I found with you in the kitchen." 
 
 "He was just going," she protested. 
 
 "Sure, and I busted into the good-bys right in 
 considerate." 
 
 "Go ahead, Slim. I m only a girl. You and 
 Brill say what you like," she flashed at him, the 
 nails of her fingers biting into the palms of her 
 hands. 
 
 "Only don t say it out loud," cautioned a new 
 
78 MAVERICKS 
 
 voice. Jim Yeager was at the door, and he was 
 looking very pointedly at Healy. 
 
 "I say what I think, Jim," Brill retorted promptly. 
 
 "And you think?" 
 
 Healy slammed his fist down hard on the coun 
 ter. "I think things ain t right when a Malpais 
 girl helps a hawss thief and a rustler to escape 
 twice." 
 
 Take care, Brill," advised Phyllis. 
 
 "Not right how?" asked Yeager quietly, but in 
 an ominous tone. 
 
 "Don t you two go to twisting my meaning. All 
 Malpais knows that no better girl than Phyl San 
 derson ever breathed." 
 
 The young woman s lip curled. "I m grateful 
 for this indorsement, sir," she murmured with 
 mock humility. 
 
 "Do I understand that Keller has made his get 
 away?" Jim Yeager asked. 
 
 "He sure has clean as a whistle." 
 
 "Then you idiots want to be plumb grateful to 
 Phyllie. He ain t any more a rustler than I am. 
 If you had hanged him you would have hanged an 
 innocent man." 
 
 "Prove it," cried Healy. 
 
 Jim looked at him quietly. "I cayn t prove it 
 just now. You ll have to take my word for it." 
 
 "Yore word goes with me, Jim, even if I am an 
 idiot by yore say-so," his father announced 
 promptly. 
 
MAVERICKS 79 
 
 Jim smiled and let an arm fall across the shoul 
 ders of James Yeager, Senior. "I ain t countin 
 you in on that class, dad. You got to trailing with 
 bad company. I ll have to bring you up stricter." 
 
 "I hate to be a knocker, Jim, but I ve got to 
 trust my own eyes before your indorsement," 
 Healy sneered. 
 
 "That s your privilege, Brill." 
 
 "I reckon Jim knows what he s talking about," 
 said Yeager, Senior, with intent to conciliate. 
 
 "Of course I know you re right friendly with 
 him, Jim. There s nobody more competent to pass 
 an opinion on him. Like enough you know all 
 about his affairs," conceded Healy with polite 
 malice. 
 
 The two young men were looking at each other 
 steadily. They never had been friends, and lately 
 they had been a good deal less than that. Rival 
 leaders of the range for years, another cause had 
 lately fanned their rivalry to a flame. Now a chal 
 lenge had been flung down and accepted. 
 
 "I expect I know more about them than you do, 
 Brill." 
 
 "Sure you do. Ain t he just got through being 
 your guest? Didn t he come visiting you in a 
 hurry? Didn t you tie up his wound? And when 
 Phil and I came asking questions didn t you ante 
 date his arrival about six hours? I m not denying 
 you know all about him. What I m wondering is 
 why you didn t tell all you knew. Of course, I un- 
 
80 MAVERICKS 
 
 der stand they are your reasons, though, not mine." 
 
 "You ve said it. They re my reasons." 
 
 "I ain t saying they are not good reasons. Why- 
 for should a man round on his friend?" 
 
 The innuendo was plain, and Yeager put it into 
 words. "I d be right proud to have him for a 
 friend. But we all know what you mean, Brill. Go 
 right ahead. Try and persuade the boys I m a rus 
 tler, too. They haven t known me on an average 
 much over twenty years. But that doesn t matter. 
 They re so durned teachable to-day maybe you can 
 get them to swallow that with the rest." 
 
 With which parting shot he followed Phyllis 
 out of the store. She turned on him at the top of 
 the porch steps leading to the house, 
 
 "Did he tell you that Phil was the rustler?" 
 
 "You mean did Keller tell me?" he said, sur 
 prised. 
 
 "Yes. Rastus was in the live oak and heard all 
 you said." 
 
 "No. He didn t tell me that. We neither of us 
 think it was Phil. It couldn t be, for he was riding 
 with you at the time. But he found your knife 
 there by the dead cow. Now, how did it come* 
 there? You let Phil have the knife. Had he lent 
 his knife to some one?" 
 
 "I don t know." She went on, after a momen 
 tary hesitation: "Are you quite sure, Jim, that he 
 really found the knife there?" 
 
 "He said so. I believe him." 
 
MAVERICKS 81 
 
 She sighed softly, as if she would have liked to 
 feel as sure. "The reason I spoke of it was that I 
 accused him of trying to throw the blame on Phil, 
 and he told me to ask you about it." 
 
 Jim shook his head. "Nothing to it. If you 
 want my opinion, Keller is white clear enough. He 
 wouldn t try a trick like that." 
 
 The girl s face lit, and she held out an impulsive 
 hand. "Anyhow, you re a good friend, Jim." 
 
 "I ve been that ever since you was knee high to 
 a duck, Phyl." 
 
 "Yes yes, you have. The best I ve got, next to 
 Phil and Dad." Her heart just now was very warm 
 to him. 
 
 "Don t you reckon maybe a good friend might 
 make a good something else." 
 
 She gasped. "Oh, Jim! You don t mean " 
 
 "Yep. That s what I do mean. Course I m not 
 good enough. I know that." 
 
 "Good. You re the best ever. It isn t that. Only 
 I don t like you that way." 
 
 "Maybe you might some day." 
 
 She shook her head slowly. "I wish I could, 
 Jim. But I never will." 
 
 "Is there someone else, Phyl?" 
 
 If it had been light enough he could have seen 
 a wave of color sweep her face. 
 
 tc lV T o. Of course there isn t. How could there 
 be? I m only a girl." 
 
 "It ain t Brill then?" 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "No. It s it isn t anybody/ She carried the 
 war, womanlike, into his camp. "And I don t be 
 lieve you care for me that way. It s just a fancy." 
 
 "One I ve had two years, little girl." 
 
 "Oh, I m sorry. I do like you, better than any 
 jone else. You know that, dear old Jim." 
 
 He smiled wistfully. "If you didn t like me so 
 well I reckon I d have a better chance. Well, I 
 mustn t keep you here. Good night." 
 
 Her fingers were lost in his big fist. "Good 
 night, Jim." And again she added, "I m so sorry." 
 
 "Don t you be. It s all right with me, Phyl. I 
 just thought I d mention it. You never can tell, 
 though I most knew how it would be. Buenos 
 noches, nina." 
 
 He released her hand, and without once looking 
 back strode to his horse, swung to the saddle, and 
 rode into the night. 
 
 She carried into the house with her a memory 
 of his cheerful smile. It had been meant as a re 
 assurance to her. It told her he would get over it, 
 and she knew he would. For he was no puling 
 schoolboy, but a man, game to the core. 
 
 The face of another man rose before her, satur- 
 inine and engaging and debonair. With the picture 
 came wave on wave of shame. He was a detected 
 villain, and she had let him kiss her. But beneath 
 the self -scorn was something new, something that 
 stung her blood, that left her flushed and tingling 
 with her first experience of sex relations. 
 
MAVERICKS 83 
 
 A week ago she had not yet emerged fully from 
 the chrysalis of childhood. But in the Southland 
 flowers ripen fast. Adolescence steals hard upon 
 the heels of infancy. Nature was pushing her re 
 lentlessly toward a womanhood for which her 
 splendid vitality and unschooled impulses but scant 
 ily safeguarded her. The lank, shy innocence of 
 the fawn still wrapped her, but in the heart of this 
 frank daughter of the desert had been born a poign 
 ant shyness, a vague, delightful trembling that 
 marked a change. A quality which had lain banked 
 in her nature like a fire since childhood now threw 
 forth its first flame of heat. At sunset she had 
 been still treading the primrose path of youth; at 
 sunrise she had entered upon the world-old heritage 
 ef her sex. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 A SHOT FROM AMBUSH 
 
 From the valley there drifted up a breeze-swept 
 sound. The rider on the rock-rim trail above, shift 
 ing in his saddle to one of the easy, careless atti 
 tudes of the habitual horseman, recognized it as a 
 rifle shot. 
 
 Presently, from a hidden wash rose little balloon- 
 like puffs of smoke, followed by a faint, far pop 
 ping, as if somebody had touched off a bunch of 
 firecrackers. Men on horseback, dwarfed by dis 
 tance to pygmy size, clambered to the bank now 
 one and then another firing into the mesquite that 
 ran like a broad tongue from the roll of hills into 
 the valley. 
 
 <r Looks like something s broke loose/ the young 
 man drawled aloud. "The band s sure playing a 
 right lively tune this glad mo ning." 
 
 Save for one or two farewell shots, the firing 
 ceased. The riders had disappeared into the chap 
 arral. 
 
 The rider did not need to be told that this was a 
 man hunt, destined perhaps to be one of a hundred 
 
 84 
 
MAVERICKS 85 
 
 unwritten desert tragedies. Some subtle instinct in 
 him differentiated between these hurried shots and 
 those born of the casual exuberance of the cow- 
 puncher at play. He had a reason for taking an 
 interest in it an interest that was more than casual. 
 
 Skirting the rim of the saucer-shaped valley, he 
 rode forward warily, came at length to a canon 
 that ran like a sword cleft into the hills, and de 
 scended cautiously by a cattle trail, its scarred slope. 
 
 Through the defile ran a mountain stream, splash 
 ing over and round boulders in its swift fall. 
 
 "I reckon we ll slide down, Keno, and work out 
 close to the fire zone," the rider said to his horse, 
 as they began to slither down the precipitous slope, 
 starting rubble at every motion. 
 
 Man and horse were both of the frontier, fit to 
 the minute for any call that might be made on them. 
 The broncho was a roan, with muscles of elastic 
 leather, sure-footed as a mountain goat. Its mas 
 ter a slim, brown man, of medium height, well 
 knit and muscular looked on the world, quietly 
 and often humorously, with shrewd gray eyes. 
 
 As he reached the bottom of the gulch, his glance 
 fell upon another rider a woman. She crossed the 
 stream hurriedly, her pony flinging water at every 
 step, and cantered up toward him. 
 
 Her glance was once and again over her shoul 
 der, so that it was not until she was almost upon 
 him that she saw the young man among the cotton- 
 woods, and drew her pony to an instant halt. The 
 
86 MAVERICKS 
 
 rifle that had been lying across her saddle leaped 
 halfway to her shoulder, covering him instantly. 
 
 "Buenos dios, senorita. Are you going for to 
 shoot my head off?" he drawled. 
 
 "The rustler!" she cried. 
 
 "The alleged rustler, Miss Sanderson," he cor 
 rected gently. 
 
 "Let me past," she panted. 
 
 He observed that her eyes mirrored terror of 
 the scene she had just left. 
 
 "It s you that has got the drop on me, isn t it?" 
 he suggested. 
 
 The rifle went back to the saddle. Instantly the 
 girl was in motion again, flying up the canon past 
 the white-stockinged roan, her pony s hindquarters 
 gathered to take the sheep trail like those of a wild 
 cat. 
 
 Keller gazed after her. As she disappeared, he 
 took off his hat, bowed elaborately, and remarked 
 to himself, in his low, soft drawl : 
 
 "Good mo ning, ma am. See you again one of 
 these days, mebbe, when you ain t in such a hurry." 
 
 But though he appeared to take the adventure 
 whimsically his mind was busy with its meaning. 
 She was in danger, and he must save her. So much 
 he knew at least. 
 
 He had scarcely turned the head of his horse 
 toward the mouth of the canon when the pursuit 
 drove headlong into sight. Galloping men pounded 
 up the arroyo, and came to halt at his sharp sum- 
 
MAVERICKS 87 
 
 mons. Already Keller and his horse were behind 
 a huge boulder, over the top of which gleamed the 
 short barrel of a wicked-looking gun. 
 
 "Mornin , gentlemen. Lost something up this 
 gulch, have you?" he wanted to know amiably. 
 
 The last rider, coming to a gingerly halt in order 
 not to jar an arm bandaged roughly in a polka-dot 
 bandanna, swore roundly. He was a large, heavy- 
 set man, still on the sunny side of forty, imperious, 
 a born leader, and, by the look of him, not one 
 lightly to be crossed. 
 
 "He s our man, boys. We ll take him alive if we 
 can; but, dead or alive, he s ours." He gave crisp 
 orders. 
 
 "Oh! It s me you ve lost? Any reward?" in 
 quired the man behind the rock. 
 
 For answer, a bullet flattened itself against the 
 boulder. The wounded man had whipped up a 
 rifle and fired. 
 
 Keller called out a genial warning. "I wouldn t 
 do that. There s too many of you bunched close 
 together, and this old gun spatters like hail. You 
 see, it s loaded with buckshot." 
 
 One of the cowboys laughed. He was rather a 
 cool hand himself, but such audacity as this was 
 new to him. 
 
 "What s ailing you, Pesky ? It don t strike me as 
 being so damned amusing," growled his leader. 
 
 "Different here, Buck. I was just grinning be- 
 
88 MAVERICKS 
 
 cause he s such a cheerful guy. Of course, I ain t 
 got one of his pills in my arm, like you have." 
 
 "He won t be so gay about it when he s down, 
 with a couple of bullets through him," predicted the 
 other grimly. "But we ll take his advice, just the 
 same. You boys scatter. Cross the creek and 
 sneak up along the other wall, Ned. Curly, you and 
 Irwin climb up this side until you get him in sight. 
 Pesky and I will stay here." 
 
 "Hold on a minute! Let s get at the rights of 
 this. What s all the row about?" the cornered man 
 wanted to know. 
 
 "You know dashed well what it s about, you 
 blanked bushwhacker. But you didn t shoot 
 straight enough, and you didn t fix it so you could 
 make your getaway. I m going to hang you high 
 as Haman." 
 
 "Thank you. But your intentions aren t directed 
 to the right man. I m a stranger in this country. 
 Whyfor should I want to shoot you?" 
 
 "A stranger. Where from?" demanded Buck 
 Weaver crisply. 
 
 "Douglas." 
 
 "What doing here?" 
 
 "Homesteading." 
 
 "Name?" 
 
 "Keller." 
 
 "Killer, you mean, I reckon. You re a hired as 
 sassin, brought in to shoot me. That s what you 
 
 are." 
 
MAVERICKS 89 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Yes. The man we want came into this gulch, 
 not three minutes ahead of us. If you re not the 
 man, where is he ?" 
 
 "I haven t got him in my vest pocket." 
 
 "I reckon you ve got him right there in your 
 coat and pants." 
 
 "I ain t so dead sure, Buck," spoke up Pesky. 
 We didn t see the man so as to know him." 
 
 "Riding a roan, wasn t he?" snapped the owner 
 of the Twin Star outfit. 
 
 "Looked that way," admitted the cowpuncher. 
 
 "Well, then?" 
 
 "Keller ! Why, that s the name given by the rus 
 tler who broke away from us two weeks ago," 
 Curly spoke out. 
 
 "No use jawing. I m going to hang his skin up 
 to dry," Weaver ground out between set teeth. 
 
 "By his own way of it, he s only one of them 
 dashed nesters," Irwin added. 
 
 Keller was putting two and two together, in 
 amazement. The would-be assassin had, during the 
 past few minutes, been driven into this gulch, rid- 
 jing a roan horse. He could swear that only one 
 person had come in before these pursuers and that 
 one was a woman on a roan. Her frightened eyes, 
 the fear that showed in every motion, her hurried 
 flight, all contributed to the same inevitable con 
 clusion. It was difficult to believe it, but impos 
 sible to deny. This wild, sylvan creature, with the 
 
90 MAVERICKS 
 
 shy, wonderful eyes, had lain in ambush to kill her 
 father s enemy, and was flying from the vengeance 
 on her heels. 
 
 His lips were sealed. Even if he were not under 
 heavy obligations to her he could no more save him 
 self at the expense of this brown sylph than he could 
 have testified against his own mother. 
 
 "All right. If you feel lucky, come on. You ll 
 get me, of course, but it may prove right expen 
 sive," he said quietly. 
 
 "That s all right. We re footing our end of the 
 bill/ Pesky retorted. 
 
 By this time, he and Weaver had dismounted, 
 and were sheltered behind rocks. Already bullets 
 were beginning to spit back and forth, though the 
 flankers had not yet got into action. 
 
 "Burn his hide, I hate like sin to puncture it," 
 Pesky told his boss. "I tell you we re making a 
 mistake, Buck. This fellow s a pure he ain t any 
 hired killer. You can tie to that." 
 
 "He s the man that pumped a bullet into my arm 
 from ambush. That s enough for me," the cattle 
 
 man swore. 
 u 
 
 No use being revengeful, especially if it hap- f 
 pens he ain t the man. By his say-so, that s a shot- , l 
 gun he s carrying. Loaded with buckshot, he*- 
 claims. What hit you was a bullet from a Win 
 chester, or some such gun. Mighty easy to prove 
 whether he s lying." 
 
 "We ll be able to prove it afterward, all right." 
 
MAVERICKS 91 
 
 "What s the matter with proving it now? I don t 
 stand for any murder business myself. I m going 
 to find out what s what." 
 
 The cow-puncher tied the red bandanna from 
 his neck round the end of his revolver, and shoved 
 it above the rock in front of him. 
 
 "Flag of truce!" he shouted. 
 
 "All right. Come right along. Better leave your 
 gun behind," Keller called back. 
 
 Pesky waddled forward a short, thick-set, bow- 
 legged man in chaps, spurs, flannel shirt, and white 
 sombrero. When he took off this last, as he did 
 now, it revealed a head bald as a billiard ball. 
 
 "How re they coming?" he inquired genially of 
 the besieged man, as he rounded the rock barricade. 
 
 Larrabie s steel eyes relaxed to a hint of a 
 friendly smile. He knew this type of man like a 
 brother. 
 
 "Fine and dandy here. Hope you re well your 
 self, seh." 
 
 "Tol able. Buck s up on his ear, o course. Can t 
 blame him, can you? Most any man would, with 
 that kind of a pill sent to his address so sudden by 
 special delivery. Wasn t that some inconsiderate 
 of you, Mr. Keller?" 
 
 "I thought I explained it was another party did 
 that." 
 
 Pesky rolled a cigarette and lit it. 
 
 "Right sure of that, are you? Wouldn t mind 
 my taking a look at that gun of yours? You see, 
 
92 MAVERICKS 
 
 if it happens to be what you said it was, that kinder 
 lets you out." 
 
 Keller handed over the gun promptly. The cow- 
 puncher broke it, extracted a shell, and with his 
 knife picked out the wad. Into his palm rolled a 
 dozen buckshot. 
 
 "Good enough ! I told Buck he was barking up 
 the wrong tree. Now, I ll go back and have a pow 
 wow with him. I reckon you ll be willing to sur 
 render on guarantee of a square deal?" 
 
 "Sure that s all I ask. I never met your friend 
 didn t know who he was from Adam. I ain t got 
 any option to shoot all the red-haided men I meet. 
 No, sir! You ve followed a cross trail." 
 
 "Looks like. Still, it s blamed funny." Pesky 
 scratched his shining poll, and looked shrewdly at 
 the other. "We certainly ran Mr. Bushwhacker 
 into the canon. I d swear to that. We was right 
 on m s heels, though we couldn t see him very well. 
 But he either come in here or a hole in the ground 
 swallowed him." 
 
 He waited tentatively for an answer, but none 
 came other than the white-toothed smile that met 
 him blandly. 
 
 "I reckon you know more than you aim to tell, 
 Mr. Keller," continued Pesky. "Don t you figure 
 it s up to you, if we let you out of this thing, to 
 whack up any information you ve got? The kind 
 of reptile that kills from ambush don t deserve any 
 consideration." 
 
MAVERICKS 93 
 
 Half an hour ago, the other would have agreed 
 with him. The man that shot his enemy from cover 
 was a coyote nothing less. But about that brown 
 slip of a creature, who had for three minutes 
 crossed his orbit, he wanted to reserve judgment. 
 
 "I expect I haven t got a thing to tell you that 
 would help any," he drawled, his eye full on that 
 of the cowpuncher. 
 
 Pesky threw away his cigarette. "All right. 
 You re the doctor. I ll amble back, and report to 
 the boss." 
 
 He did so, with the result that a truce was ar 
 ranged. 
 
 Keller gave up his post of vantage, and came for 
 ward to surrender. 
 
 Weaver met him with a hard, wintry eye. "Un 
 derstand, I don t concede your innocence. You re 
 my prisoner, and, by God, if I get any more proof 
 of your guilt, you ve got to stand the gaff." 
 
 The other nodded quietly, meeting him eye to 
 eye. Nor did his gaze fall, though the big cattle 
 man was the most masterful man on the range. 
 Keller was as easy and unperturbed as when he had 
 been holding half a dozen irate men at bay. 
 
 "No kick coming here. But, if it s just the same 
 to you, I ll ask you to get the proof first and hang 
 me afterward." 
 
 "If you re homesteading, where s your place," 
 
 "Back in the hills, close to the headwaters Q 
 Salt Creek." 
 
94 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Huh! You ll make that good before I get 
 through with you. And I want to tell you this, too, 
 Mr. Keller. It doesn t make any hit with me that 
 you re one of those thieving nesters. Moreover, 
 there s another charge against you. In the Malpais 
 country we hang rustlers. The boys claim to havef 
 you cinched. We ll see." 
 
 "Who s that with Curly?" Pesky called out. 
 "By Moses, it s a woman!" 
 
 "It is the Sanderson girl," Weaver said in sur 
 prise. 
 
 Keller swung round as if worked by a spring. 
 The cow-puncher had told the truth. Curly s com 
 panion was not only a woman, but the woman the 
 same slim, tanned creature who had flashed past 
 him on a wild race for safety, only a few minutes 
 earlier. 
 
 All eyes were focused upon her. Weaver waited 
 for her to speak. Instead, Curly took up the word. 
 He was smiling broadly, quite unaware of the mine 
 he was firing. 
 
 "I found this young lady up on the rock rim. 
 Since we were rounding up, I thought I d bring her 
 down." 
 
 "Good enough. Miss Sanderson, you ve been, 
 where you could see if anyone passed into the 
 canon. How about it? Anybody go up in last ten 
 minutes ?" 
 
 Phyllis moistened her dry lips and looked at the 
 prisoner. "No," she answered reluctantly. 
 
MAVERICKS 95 
 
 Weaver wheeled on Keller, his eyes hard as jade. 
 "That ties the rope round your neck, my man." 
 
 "No," Phyllis cried. "He didn t do it." 
 
 The cattleman s stone wall eyes were on her now. 
 
 "Didn t? How do you know he didn t?" 
 , "Because I I passed him here as I rode up a 
 few minutes ago." 
 
 "So you rode up a few minutes ago." Buck ? 
 lids narrowed. "And he was here, was he? Evei 
 meet Mr. Keller before?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "When? Speak up. Mind, no lying." 
 
 This struck the first spark of spirit from her. 
 The deep eyes flashed. "I m not in the habit of 
 lying, sir." 
 
 "Then answer my question." 
 
 "I ve met him at the office when he came for his 
 mail. And the boys arrested him by mistake for a 
 rustler. I saw him when they brought him in." 
 
 "By mistake. How do you know it was by mis 
 take?" 
 
 "It was I accused him. But I did it because I 
 was angry at him." 
 
 "You accused an innocent man of rustling be 
 cause you were sore at him. You re ce tainly a 
 pleasant young lady, Miss Sanderson." 
 
 Her look flashed defiance at him, but she said 
 nothing. In her slim erectness was a touch of 
 feminine ferocity that gave him another idea. 
 
 "So you just rode into the canon, did you?" 
 
96 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Meet up with anybody in the valley before you 
 came in?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 His eyes were like steel drills. They never left 
 her. "Quite sure?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What were you doing there ?" 
 
 She had no answer ready. Her wild look went 
 round in search of a friend in this circle of enemies. 
 They found him in the man who was a prisoner. 
 His steadfast eyes told her to have no fear. 
 
 "Did you hear what I said?" demanded Weaver. 
 
 "I was riding." 
 
 "Alone?" 
 
 The answer came so slowly that it was barely 
 audible. "Yes." 
 
 "Riding in Antelope Valley?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Let me see that gun." Weaver held out his 
 hand for the rifle. 
 
 Phyllis looked at him and tried to fight against 
 his domination; then slowly she handed him the 
 rifle. He broke and examined it. From the cham-^ 
 ber he extracted an empty shell. 
 
 Grim as a hanging judge, his look chiselled into 
 her. 
 
 "I expect the lead that was in here is in my arm. 
 Isn t that right?" 
 
 "I I don t know/ 
 
MAVERICKS 97 
 
 "Who does, then? Either you shot me or you 
 know who did." 
 
 Her gaze evaded his, but was forced at last to the 
 meeting. 
 
 "I did it." 
 
 She was looking at him steadily now. Since the 
 thing must be faced, she had braced herself to it. 
 It was amazing what defiant pluck shone out of her 
 soft eyes. This man of iron saw it, and, seeing, 
 admired hugely the gameness that dwelt in her slim 
 body. But none of his admiration showed in the 
 hard, weather-beaten face. 
 
 "So they make bushwhackers out of even the 
 girls among your rustling, sheep-herding outfit!" 
 he taunted. 
 
 "My people are not rustlers. They have a right 
 to be on earth, even if you don t want them there." 
 
 "I ll show them what rights they have got in 
 this part of the country before I get through with 
 them. But that ain t the point now. What I want 
 to know is how they came to send a girl to do their 
 dirty killing for them." 
 
 "They didn t send me. I just saw you, and 
 and shot on an impulse. Your men have clubbed 
 and poisoned our sheep. They wounded one of 
 our herders, and beat his brother when they caught 
 him unarmed. They have done a hundred mean 
 and brutal things. You are at the bottom of it all ; 
 and when I saw you riding there, looking like the 
 lord of all the earth, I iust " 
 
98 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Couldn t help what I did." 
 
 "You re a nicely brought up young woman 
 about as savage as the rest of your wolf breed," 
 jeered Weaver. 
 
 Yet he exulted in her in the impulse of ferocity 
 that had made her strike swiftly, regardless of 
 risk to herself, at the man who had hounded and 
 harried her kin to the feud that was now raging. 
 Her shy, untamed beauty would not itself have at 
 tracted him; but in combination with her fierce 
 courage it made to him an appeal which he con 
 ceded grudgingly. 
 
 "What in Heaven s name brought you back after 
 you had once got away?" Weaver asked. 
 
 The girl looked at Keller without answering. 
 
 "I reckon I can tell you that, seh," explained 
 that young man. "She figured you would jump on 
 me as the guilty party. It got on her conscience 
 that she had left an innocent man to stand for it. 
 I shouldn t wonder but she got to seeing a picture 
 of you-all hanging me or shooting me up. So she 
 came back to own up, if she saw you had caught 
 inc." 
 
 Weaver nodded. "That s the way I figure it, too. 
 Gamest thing I ever saw a woman do," he said in 
 an undertone to Keller, with whom he was now 
 standing a little apart. 
 
 The latter agreed. "Never saw the beat of it 
 
MAVERICKS 99 
 
 She s scared stiff, too. Makes it all the pluckier. 
 What will you do with her?" 
 
 "Take her along with me back to the ranch." 
 
 "I wouldn t do that," said the young man quickly. 
 
 "Wouldn t you ?" Weaver s hard gaze went over 
 him haughtily. "When I want your advice, I ll ask 
 you for it, young man. You re in luck to get off 
 scot-free yourself. That ought to content you for 
 one day." 
 
 "But what are you going to do with her ? Surely 
 not have her imprisoned for attacking you?" 
 
 "I ll do as I dashed please, and don t you forgei 
 it, Mr. Keller. Better mind your own business, if 
 you ve got any." 
 
 With which Buck Weaver turned on his heel, 
 and swung slowly to the saddle. His arm was 
 paining him a great deal, but he gave no sign of it 
 He expected his men to game it out when they rar 
 into bad luck, and he was stoic enough to set them 
 an example without making any complaints. 
 
 The little group of riders turned down the trail, 
 passed through the gateway that led to the valley 
 below, and wound down among the cow-backed 
 hills toward the ranch roofs, which gleamed in the 
 distance. They were the houses of the Twin Starj 
 outfit, the big concern owned by Buck Weaver, 1 
 whose cattle fed literally upon a thousand hills. 
 
 It suited Buck s ironic humor to ride beside the 
 girl who had just attempted his life. He bore her 
 
 \ 
 
100 MAVERICKS 
 
 no resentment. Had the offender been a man, Buck 
 would have snuffed out his life with as little re 
 morse as he would a guttering candle. But her 
 sex and her youth, and some quality of charm in 
 her, had altered the equation. He meant to show 
 her who was master, but he would choose a differ 
 ent method. 
 
 What sport to tame the spirit of this wild desert 
 beauty until she should come like one of her own 
 sheep dogs at his beck and call ! He had never yet 
 met the woman he could not dominate. This one, 
 too, would know a good many new emotions before 
 she rejoined her tribe in the hills. 
 
 He swung from the saddle at the ranch plaza, 
 and greeted her with a deep bow that mocked her. 
 
 "Welcome, Miss Sanderson, to the best the Twin 
 Star outfit has to offer. I hope you will enjoy your 
 visit, which is going to be a long one." 
 
 To a Mexican woman, who had come out to the 
 porch in answer to his call, he delivered the girl, 
 charging her duty in two quick sentences of Span 
 ish. The woman nodded her understanding, and 
 led Phyllis inside. 
 
 Weaver noticed with delight that his captive s 
 eye met his steadily, with the defiant fierceness of 
 some hunted wild thing. Here was a woman worth 
 taming, even though she was still a girl in years. 
 His exultant eye, returning from the last glimpse 
 of the lissom figure as it disappeared, met the gaze 
 of Keller. That young man was watching him with 
 
MAVERICKS 101 
 
 an odd look of challenge on his usually impassive 
 face. 
 
 The cattleman felt the spur of a new antagonism 
 stirring his blood. There was something almost 
 like a sneer on his lips as he spoke : 
 
 "Sorry to lose your company, Mr. Keller. But 
 if you re homesteading, of course, we ll have to* 
 let you go back to the hills right away. Couldn t / 
 think of keeping you from that spring plowing 
 that s waiting to be done." 
 
 " You re putting up a different line of talk from 
 what you did. How about that charge of rustling 
 against me, Mr. Weaver? Don t you want to hold 
 me while you investigate it?" 
 
 "No, I reckon not. Your lady friend gives you 
 a clean bill of health. She may or may not be 
 lying. I m not so sure myself. But without her 
 the case against you falls." 
 
 Keller knew himself dismissed cavalierly, and, 
 much as he would have liked to stay, he could find 
 no further excuse to urge. He could hardly in 
 vite himself to be either the guest or the prisoner of 
 a man who did not want him. 
 
 "Just as you say," he nodded, and turned care* 
 lessly to his pony. 
 
 Yet he was quite sure it would not be as Weaver 
 said if he could help it. He meant to take a hand 
 in the game, no matter what the other might decree. 
 But for the present he acquiesced in the inevitable. 
 Weaver was technically within his rights in holding 
 
102 MAVERICKS 
 
 her until he had communicated with the sheriff. A 
 generous foe might not have stood out for his 
 pound of flesh, but Buck was as hard as nails. As 
 for the reputation of the girl, it was safe at the 
 Twin Star ranch. Buck s sister, a maiden lady of 
 uncertain years, was on hand to play chaperone. 
 
 Larrabie swung to the saddle. His horse s hoofs 
 were presently flinging dirt toward the Twin Star 
 as he loped up to the hills. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 MISS-GOING-ON-EIGHTEEN 
 
 i 
 
 Time had been when the range was large enough 
 for all, when every man s cattle might graze at will 
 from horizon to horizon. But with the push of 
 settlement to the frontier had come a change. The 
 feeding ground became overstocked. One outfit 
 elbowed another, and lines began to be drawn be 
 tween the runs of different owners. Water holes 
 were seized and fenced, with or without due process 
 of law. 
 
 With the establishment of forest reserves a new 
 policy dominated the government. Sanderson had 
 been one of the first to avail himself of it by leasing 
 the public demesne for his stock. Later, learning 
 that the mountain parks were to be thrown open as 
 a pasturage for sheep, he had bought three thou 
 sand and driven them up, having first arranged 
 terms with the forestry service. 
 
 Buck Weaver, fighting the government reserve 
 policy with all his might, resented fiercely the at 
 titude of Sanderson. A sharp, bitter quarrel had 
 resulted, and had left a smoldering bad feeling that 
 flamed at times into open warfare. Upon the whole- 
 
 103 
 
104 MAVERICKS 
 
 some Malpais country had fallen the bitterness of a 
 sheep and cattle feud. 
 
 The riders of the Twin Star outfit had thrice 
 raided the Sanderson flocks. Lambing sheep had 
 been run cruelly. One herd had been clubbed over a 
 precipice, another decimated with poison. In re 
 turn, the herders shot and hamstrung Twin Star 
 cows. A herder was held up and beaten by cow 
 boys. Next week a vaquero galloped home to the 
 Twin Star ranch with a bullet through his leg. 
 This was the situation at the time when the owner 
 of the big ranch brought Phyllis a prisoner to its 
 hospitality. 
 
 Nothing could have been more pat to his liking. 
 He was, in large measure, the force behind the law 
 in San Miguel county. The sheriff whom he had 
 elected to office would be conveniently deaf to any 
 illegality there might be in his holding the girl, 
 would if necessary give him an order to hold her 
 there until further notice. The attempt to assassi 
 nate him would serve as excuse enough for a pro 
 ceeding even more highhanded than this. Her 
 relatives could scarce appeal to the law, since the 
 law would then step in and send her to the peni 
 tentiary. He could use her position as a hostage 
 to force her stiff-necked father to come to terms. 
 
 But it was characteristic of the man that his 
 reason for keeping her was, after all, less the ad 
 vantage he might gain by it than the pleasure he 
 found in tormenting her and her family. To this 
 
MAVERICKS 105 
 
 instinct of the jungle beast was added the interest 
 she had inspired in him. Untaught of life she was, 
 no doubt, a child of the desert, in some ways primi 
 tive as Eve ; but he perceived in her the capacity for 
 deep feeling, for passion, for that kind of fierce, 
 dauntless endurance it is given some women to pos 
 sess. 
 
 Miss Weaver took charge of the comfort of her 
 guest. Her manner showed severe disapproval of 
 this girl so lost to the feelings of her sex as to have 
 attempted murder. That she was young and pretty 
 made matters worse. Alice Weaver always had 
 worshipped her brother, by the law of opposites 
 perhaps. She was as drab and respectable as Bos 
 ton. All her tastes ran to humdrum monotony. 
 But turbulent, lawless Buck, the brother whom she 
 had brought up after the death of their mother, 
 held her heart in the hollow of his hard, careless 
 hand. 
 
 "Have you had everything you wish ?" she would 
 ask Phyllis in a frigid voice. 
 
 "I want to be taken home." 
 
 "You should have thought of that before you did 
 the dreadful thing you did." 
 
 "You are holding me here a prisoner, then?" 
 
 "An involuntary guest, my brother puts it. Until 
 the sheriff can make other arrangements." 
 
 "You have no right to do it without notifying 
 my father. He is at Noches with my brother." 
 
 "Mr. Weaver will do as he thinks best about 
 
106 MAVERICKS 
 
 that." The spinster shut her lips tight and walked 
 from the room. 
 
 Supper was brought to Phyllis by the Mexican 
 woman. In spite of her indignation she ate and 
 slept well. Nor did her appetite appear impaired 
 next morning, when she breakfasted in her bed 
 room. Noon found her promoted to the family 
 dining room. Weaver carried his arm in a sling, 
 but made no reference to the fact. He attempted 
 conversation, but Phyllis withdrew into herself and 
 had nothing more friendly than a plain "No" or 
 Yes" for him. His sister was presently called 
 away to arrange some household difficulty. At once 
 Phyllis attacked the big man lounging in his chair 
 at his ease. 
 
 "I want to go home. I ve got to be at the school- 
 house to-morrow morning," she announced. 
 
 "It won t hurt you any to miss a few days 
 schooling, my dear. You ll learn more here than 
 you will there, anyhow," he assured her pleasantly. 
 Buck was cracking two walnuts in the palm of his 
 hand and let his lazy smile drift her way only casu 
 ally. 
 
 She stamped her foot. "I tell you I m the teacher. 
 It is necessary I should be there." 
 
 "You a schoolmarm!" he repeated, in surprise. 
 "How old are you?" 
 
 Her dress was scarcely below her shoe tops. She 
 still had the slimness of immature girlhood, the 
 
MAVERICKS 107 
 
 adorable shy daring of some uncaptured wood 
 nymph. 
 
 "Does that matter to you, sir?" 
 
 "How old?" he reiterated. 
 
 "Going-on-eighteen," she answered not because 
 she wanted to, but because somehow she must. 
 There was something compelling about this man s 
 will. She would have resisted it had she not wanted 
 to gain her point about going home. 
 
 "So you teach the kids their A B Cs, do you? 
 And you just out of them yourself! How many 
 scholars have you?" 
 
 "Fourteen." 
 
 "And they all love teacher, of course. Would 
 you take me for a scholar, Miss Going-On- 
 Eighteen ?" 
 
 "No!" she flamed. 
 
 " You d find me right teachable. And I would 
 promise to love you, too." 
 
 Color came and went in her face beneath the 
 brow. How dared he mock her so ! It humiliated 
 and embarrassed and angered her. 
 
 "Are you going to let me go back to my school?" 
 she demanded. 
 
 "I reckon your school will have to get along 
 without you for a few days. Your fourteen schol 
 ars will keep right on loving you, I expect. To 
 memory dear, though far from eye. Or, if you 
 like, I ll send my boys up into the hills, and round 
 
108 MAVERICKS 
 
 up the whole fourteen here for you. Then school 
 can keep right here in the house. How about that ? 
 Ain t that a good notion, Miss Going-On- 
 Eighteen?" 
 
 She could stand his ironic mockery no longer. 
 She faced him, fearless as a tiger : "You villain !" 
 
 With that, turning on her heel, she passed swiftly 
 into her little bedroom, and slammed the door. He 
 heard the key turn in the lock. 
 
 "She s sure got some devil in her," he laughed 
 appreciatively, and he cracked another walnut. 
 
 Already he had struck the steel of her quality. 
 She would be his prisoner because she must, but the 
 "no compromise" flag was nailed to her masthead. 
 
 "I wonder why you are so fond of me ?" he mused 
 aloud next day when he found her as unresponsive 
 to his advances as a block of wood. 
 
 He was lying in the sand at her feet, his splen 
 did body relaxed full lexigth at supple ease. Lean 
 ing on an elbow, he had been watching her for 
 some time. 
 
 Her gaze was on the distant line of hills ; on her 
 face that far-away expression which told him that 
 he was not on the map for her. Used as he was 
 to impressing himself upon the imagination of 
 women, this stung his vanity sharply. He liked 
 better the times when her passion flamed out at him. 
 
 Now he lost his sardonic mockery in a flash of 
 
 "Do you hear me? I asked you a question." 
 
MAVERICKS 109 
 
 She brought her head round until her eyes rested 
 upon him. 
 
 "Will you ask it again, please? I wasn t listen 
 ing." 
 
 "I want to know what makes you hate me so," he 
 demanded roughly. 
 
 "Do I hate you?" 
 
 He laughed irritably. "What else do you call it ? 
 You won t hardly eat at the same table with me. 
 Last night you wouldn t come down to supper. 
 Same way this morning. If I sit down near you, 
 soon you find an excuse to leave. When I speak, 
 you don t answer." 
 
 "You are my jailer, not my friend." 
 
 "I might be both." 
 
 "No, thank you!" 
 
 She said it with such quick, instinctive certainty 
 that he ground his teeth in resentment. He was the 
 kind of man that always wanted what he could not 
 get. He began to covet this girl mightily, even 
 while he told himself that he was a fool for his 
 pains. What was she but an untaught, country 
 schoolgirl? It would be a strange irony of fate 
 if Buck Weaver should fall in love with a sheep 
 man s daughter. 
 
 "Many people would go far to get my friend 
 ship," he told her. 
 
 Quietly she looked at him. "The friends of my 
 people are my friends. Their enemies are mine." 
 
 "Yet you said you didn t hate me." 
 
110 MAVERICKS 
 
 "I thought I did, but I find I don t." 
 
 "Not worth hating, I suppose ?" 
 
 She neither corrected nor rejected his explana 
 tion. 
 
 He touched his wounded arm as he went on: 
 "If you don t hate me, why this compliment to me? 
 I reckon good, genuine hate sent that bullet." 
 
 The girl colored, but after a moment s hesita 
 tion answered : 
 
 "Once I shot a coyote when I saw it making 
 ready to pounce on one of our lambs. I did not 
 hate that coyote." 
 
 "Thank you," he told her ironically. 
 
 Her gaze went back to the mountains. She had 
 always had a capacity for silence. But it was as ex 
 traordinary to her as to him how, in the past few 
 days, she had sloughed the shy timidity of a moun 
 tain girl and found the enduring courage of woman 
 hood. Her wits, too, had taken on the edge of ma 
 turity. He found that her tongue could strike 
 swiftly and sharply. She was learning to defend 
 herself in all the ways women have acquired by 
 inheritance. 
 
 Weaver s jaw set like a vise. Getting to his feet, 
 he looked down at her with the hard, relentless 
 eyes that had made his name a terror. 
 
 "Good enough, Miss Phyllis Sanderson. You ve 
 chosen your way. I ll choose mine. You ve got to 
 learn that I m master here; and, by God, I ll teach 
 it to you. Before I get through with you, young 
 
MAVERICKS 111 
 
 woman, you ll come running when I snap my fin 
 gers. From to-day things will be different. Youll 
 eat your meals with us and not in your room. 
 You ll speak when you re spoken to. Set yourself 
 up against me, and I ll bring you to your knees fast 
 enough. There s no law on the Twin Star Ranch 
 but Buck Weaver s will." 
 
 He strode away, almost herculean in figure, and 
 every inch of him forceful. She had never seen 
 such a man, one so virile and, at the same time, so 
 wilful and so masterful. Before he was out of her 
 sight, she got an instance of his recklessness. 
 
 A Mexican vaquero was driving some horses 
 into a corral. His master strode up to him, and 
 dragged him from the saddle. 
 
 "Didn t I tell you to take the colts down to the 
 long pasture?" 
 
 "Si, senor" answered the trembHng native. 
 
 Weaver s great fist rose and fell once. The Mex 
 ican sank limply down. Without another glance at 
 him, the cattleman flung him aside, and strode to 
 the house. 
 
 As the owner of the Twin Star had said, so it 
 was. Thereafter Phyllis sat at the table with him 
 and his sister, while Josephine, the Mexican woman, 
 waited upon them. The girl came and went at his 
 bidding. But she held herself with such a quiet 
 aloofness that his victory was a barren one. 
 
 "Do you want to go home?" he taunted her one 
 morning, while at breakfesi. 
 
112 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Is it likely I would want to stay here?" she re 
 torted. 
 
 "Why not? What have you to complain of? 
 Aren t you treated well ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What, then? Are you afraid?" 
 
 "No !" she answered, with a flash of her fine eyes. 
 
 "That s good, because you ve got to stay here 
 or go to the pen. You may take your choice." 
 
 "You re very generous. I suppose you don t 
 expect to keep me here always," she said scornfully. 
 
 "Until my arm gets well. Since you wounded i* 
 you ought to nurse it." 
 
 "Which I am not doing, even while I am here." 
 
 "Anyhow it soothes the temper of the invalid to 
 have you around." He grinned satirically. 
 
 "So I judge, from the effects." 
 
 "Meaning that I m always in a rage when I leave 
 you?" 
 
 "I notice your men are marked up a good deal 
 these days." 
 
 "I ll tell them to thank you for it," he flung back. 
 
 Two days later, he scored on her hard for the 
 first time. She came down to breakfast just as two 
 of the Twin Star riders brought a boy into the 
 hall. 
 
 She flew instantly into his arms, thereby embar 
 rassing him vastly. 
 
 "Phil! How did you come here?" 
 
 Her brother nodded toward Curly and Pesky. 
 
MAVERICKS 113 
 
 "They found me outside and got the drop on me." 
 
 "You were here looking for me ?" 
 
 "Yes. Just got back from Noches. Dad is still 
 there. He don t know." 
 
 "But what are they going to do with you?" 
 
 "What would you suggest, Miss Phyllis?" a voice - 
 behind her gibed. 
 
 The speaker was Weaver. He filled the doorway 
 of the dining room triumphantly. She had had no 
 fears for herself; he would see if she had none for 
 her brother. 
 
 The boy whirled on the ranchman like a tiger 
 whelp. "I don t care what you do. Go ahead and 
 do your worst." 
 
 Weaver looked him over negligently, much as he 
 might watch a struggling calf. To him the boy 
 was not an enemy merely a tool which he could use 
 for his own ends. Phyllis, watching anxiously the 
 hard, expressionless face, felt that it was cruel as 
 fate. She knew that somehow she would be made 
 to suiter through her love for her brother. 
 
 "You daren t touch him. He s done nothing," 
 she cried. 
 
 "He shot at one of my riders. I can t have dan 
 gerous characters around. I m a peaceable man, 
 me/ grinned Buck. 
 
 "You didn t, Phil," his sister reproached. 
 
 "Sure I did. He tried to take my gun from me," 
 the boy explained hotly. 
 
 "Take him out to the bunk house, boys. I ll at- 
 
114 MAVERICKS 
 
 tend to him later/ nodded Buck, turning away in 
 differently. 
 
 Stung to fury by the cavalier manner of his en- v 
 emy, the boy leaped at him like a wild cat. Weaver 
 whirled round again, caught him by the shoulder 
 with his great hand, and shook him as if he had 
 been a puppy. When he dropped him, he nodded 
 again to his men, who dragged out the struggling 
 boy. 
 
 Phyllis stood straight as an arrow, but white to 
 the lips. "What are you going to do to him?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "How would a good chapping do, to start with? 
 That is always good for an unlicked cub." 
 
 "Don t !" she implored. 
 
 "But, my dear, why not since it s for his good ?" 
 
 Passion unleashed leaped from her. "You cow 
 ard!" 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. "I m right desolated 
 to have your bad opinion. But you say it almost as 
 if you did hate me. That s a compliment, you know. 
 You didn t hate the coyote, you mentioned." 
 
 Her eyes flamed. "Hate you! If wishes could 
 kill, you would be a thousand times dead!" 
 
 "You disappoint me, my dear. I expected more 
 than wishes from you. There s a loaded revolver in 
 that table drawer. It s yours, any time ycyu want 
 it," he derided. 
 
 "Don t tempt me !" she cried wildly. "If you lay 
 a hand on Phil, Til use it I surely will." 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 His eyes shone with delight. "I wonder. By 
 Jove, I ve a mind to flog the colt and see. I ll do 
 it." 
 
 The passion sank in her as suddenly as it had 
 risen. "No you mustn t! You don t know hin?j 
 or us. We are from the South." 
 
 "That settles it. I will," he exulted. "You have " 
 called me a coward. Would a coward do this, and 
 defy your whole crew to its revenge?" 
 
 "Would a brave man break the pride of a high- 
 spirited boy for such a mean motive?" she coun 
 tered. 
 
 "His pride will have to look out for itself. He 
 took his chance of it when he tried to assault me. 
 What he ll get is only what s coming to him." 
 
 "Please don t! I ll I ll be different to you. 
 Take it out on me," she begged. 
 
 He laughed harshly. "Do you suppose I m such 
 a fool as not to know that the way to take it out on 
 you is to take it out of him?" 
 
 She had come nearer, a step at a time. Now she 
 threw her hand out in a gesture of abandon. 
 
 "Be generous ! Don t punish me that way. Some* 
 thing dreadful will come of it." 
 
 She broke down and struggled with her tears. He 
 watched her for a moment without speaking. 
 
 "Good enough. I ll be generous and let you pay 
 his debt for him, if you want to do it." 
 
 Her eyes were glad with the swift joy that leaped 
 into them. 
 
116 MAVERICKS 
 
 "That is good of you! And how shall I pay?" 
 she cried. 
 
 "With a kiss." 
 
 She drew back as if he had struck her, all the 
 sparkling eagerness driven from her face. 
 
 "Oh!" she moaned. 
 
 "Just one kiss I don t ask anything more. Give 
 me that, and I ll turn him loose. Honor bright." 
 
 He held her startled gaze as a snake holds that 
 of a fascinated bird. 
 
 "Choose," he told her, in his masterful way. 
 
 Her imagination conceived a vision of her young 
 brother being tortured by this man. She had not 
 the least doubt that he would do what he said, and 
 probably would think the boy got only what he de 
 served. 
 
 "Take it," she told him, and waited. 
 
 Perhaps he might have spared her had it not been 
 for the look of deep contempt that bit into his van 
 ity. 
 
 He kissed her full on the lips. 
 
 Instantly she woke to life, struck him on the 
 cheek with her little, brown fist, and, with a sob of 
 woe, turned and ran from the room. 
 
 Weaver cursed himself in a fury of anger. He 
 felt himself to be a hound because of the thing he 
 had done, and he hated the instinct in him that 
 drove him to master her. He had insulted and 
 trampled on her. Yet he knew in his heart that 
 he would have killed another man for doing it. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 ^ PUNISHMENT 
 
 The cattleman strode into the bunk house, where, 
 young Sanderson sat sulkily on a bed under the 
 persuasion of Curly s rifle. 
 
 "Have this boy s horse saddled and brought 
 around, Curly." 
 
 "You re the doctor," answered the cowboy 
 promptly, and forthwith vanished outdoors to obey 
 instructions. 
 
 Phil looked sullenly at his captor, and waited for 
 him to begin. One of his hands was under the 
 pillow of the cot upon which he sat. His fingers 
 circled the butt of a revolver he had found there, 
 where one of the riders had chanced to leave it 
 that morning. 
 
 "I m going to turn you loose to go home to the 
 hills," Weaver told him. 
 
 "And my sister?" 
 
 "She stays here." 
 
 Then so do I." 
 
 "That s up to you. There s no law against camp 
 ing on the plains that is, out of range of the 
 Twin Star." 
 
 117 
 
118 MAVERICKS 
 
 "What are you going to do with her?" the boy 
 demanded ominously. 
 
 "If you ask no questions, I ll tell you no lies." 
 
 "You ll let her go home with me that s what 
 you ll do/ cried Phil. 
 
 "I reckon not. You ve got a license to feel lucky 
 you re going yourself." 
 
 "By God, I say you shall!" 
 
 The cattleman s eyes took on their stony, snake- 
 like look. His hand did not move by so much as 
 an inch toward the scabbarded revolver at his side. 
 
 "All right. Come a-shooting. I see you ve got 
 a gun under that pillow." 
 
 The weapon leaped into sight. "You re right I 
 have! I ll drill you full of holes as soon as wink." 
 
 Weaver laughed contemptuously. "Begin pump 
 ing, son." 
 
 "I m going to take my sister home with me. 
 You ll give orders to your men to that effect." 
 
 "Guess again." 
 
 "I tell you I ll shoot your hide full of holes if 
 you don t!" cried the excited boy. 
 
 "Oh, no, you won t." 
 
 Buck Weaver was flirting with death, and he 
 knew it. The very breath of it fanned his cheek. 
 During that moment he lived gloriously; for he 
 was a man who revelled in his sensations. He 
 laughed into the very muzzle of the six-shooter that 
 covered him. 
 
 "Quit your play acting, boy," he jeered. 
 
MAVERICKS 119 
 
 "I give you one more chance before I blow out 
 your brains." 
 
 The cattleman put his unwounded hand into his 
 trousers pocket and lounged forward, thrusting his 
 smiling face against the cold rim of the blue bar 
 rel. 
 
 "I reckon you ll scatter proper what few brains 
 I ve got." 
 
 With a curse, the boy flung the weapon down on 
 the bed. He could not possibly kill a man so willing 
 as this. To draw guns with him, and chance the 
 issue, would have suited young Sanderson exactly. 
 But this way would be no less than murder 
 
 "You devil !" he cried, with a boyish sob. 
 
 Weaver picked up the revolver, and examined 
 it. "Mighty careless of Ned to leave it lying 
 around this way," he commented absently, as if un 
 aware of the other s rage. "You never can tell 
 when a gun is going to get into the wrong hands." 
 
 "What are you letting me go for? You ve got 
 a reason. What is it?" Phil demanded. 
 
 Weaver looked at him through narrowed, dare 
 devil eyes. "The ransom price has been paid," he 
 explained. 
 
 "Paid! Who paid it?" 
 
 "Miss Phyllis Sanderson." 
 
 "Phyllis?" repeated the boy incredulously. "But 
 she had no money." 
 
 "Did I say she paid it in money?" 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
120 MAVERICKS 
 
 "She asked me to set you free. I named my 
 price, and she agreed." 
 
 "What was your price ?" the boy asked hoarsely. 
 
 "A kiss." 
 
 At that, Phil struck him full in the sardonic, 
 mocking face. Blood crimsoned the lips that had 
 been crushed against the strong, white teeth. 
 
 "Again," said Weaver. 
 
 The brown fist went back and shot forward like 
 a piston rod. This time it left an ugly gash over 
 the cheek bone. 
 
 "Much obliged. Once more." 
 
 The young man balanced himself carefully, and 
 struck hard and true between the eyes. 
 
 A third, a fourth, and a fifth time Phil lashed 
 out at the disfigured, grinning face. 
 
 "Let s make it an even half dozen," the cattle 
 man suggested. 
 
 But Phil had had enough of it. This was too 
 much like butchery. His passion had spent itself. 
 He struck, but with no force behind the blow. 
 
 Weaver went to the washstand, dashed some 
 water on his face, and pressed a towel against the 
 raw wounds. He flung the red-soaked towel aside 
 just as Curly cantered up on Sanderson s horse. 
 The cow-puncher stared at his boss in amazement, 
 opened his lips to speak, and thought better of it. 
 He looked at Phil, whose knuckles were badly 
 barked and bleeding. 
 
 Curly had seen his master marked up before, but 
 
HE DBEW BACK A* IF HE HAD 3TROCK HER. ALL THE SPARKLING EAQBRXB88 
 DBI7&.N FBOli HBB FACE. 
 
 rage lib 
 
MAVERICKS 121 
 
 on such occasions the other man was a sight for 
 the gods to wonder at. Now Weaver was the spec 
 tacle, and the other was untouched. In view of 
 Buck s reputation as a rough-and-tumble fighter, 
 this seemed no less than a miracle. Curly departed 
 with the -wonder unexplained, for Weaver dis 
 missed him with a nod. 
 
 "Like to see your sister before you go?" the cat 
 tleman asked curtly of Phil, over his shoulder. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Buck led the way across the plaza to the house, 
 and clapped his hands in the hall. Josephine an 
 swered the summons. 
 
 "Tell Miss Sanderson that her brother would 
 like to see her." 
 
 The woman vanished up the stairway, and the 
 two men waited in silence. Presently Phyllis stood 
 in the door. Her eyes ignored Weaver, and were 
 only for her brother. Her first glance told her that 
 all was well so far as he was concerned, even 
 though it also let her know that the boy was 
 anxious. 
 
 "Phil!" she breathed. 
 
 "So you bought my freedom for me, did you?" 
 the boy said, his voice trembling. 
 
 Phyllis answered in the clearest of low voices. 
 "Yes. Did he tell you?" 
 
 "You oughtn t to have done it. I ll have no 
 such bargains made. Understand that!" cried her 
 brother, emotion in his high tones. 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "I couldn t help it, Phil. I did it for the best 
 You don t know." 
 
 "I know that you re to keep out ot this. I ll 
 fight my own battles. In our family the girls don t 
 sell kisses. Remember that." 
 
 Phyl hung her head. She felt herself disgraced, 
 but she knew that she would do it again in like cir 
 cumstances. 
 
 Weaver broke in roughly: "You young fool! 
 She s worth a dozen of you, who haven t sense 
 enough to sabe her kind." 
 
 The girl glanced at him involuntarily. At sight 
 of his swollen and beaten face, she started. Her 
 gaze clung to him, eyes wild and fluttering with 
 apprehension. 
 
 "I ve been taking a massage treatment," he ex 
 plained. 
 
 Phyllis looked at her brother, then back at the 
 ranchman. The thing was beyond comprehension. 
 Ten minutes ago, this ferocious Hercules had left 
 her, sound and unscratched. Now he returned with 
 a face beaten and almost beyond recognition from 
 bloodstains. 
 
 "What what is it?" The appeal was to her 
 brother. 
 
 "He let me beat him," Phil explained. 
 
 "Let you beat him! Why?" 
 
 "I don t know." 
 
 What the boy said was true, yet it was something 
 less than the truth. He was dimly aware that this 
 
MAVERICKS 123 
 
 man knew himself to have violated the code, and 
 that he had submitted to punishment because of 
 the violation. 
 
 "Tell me," Phyllis commanded. 
 
 Phil told her in three sentences. She looked at 
 Weaver with eyes that saw him in a new light. He 
 still sneered, but behind the mask she got for the 
 first time a glimpse of another man. Only dimly 
 she divined him; but what she visioned was half 
 devil and half hero, capable of things great as well 
 as of deeds despicable. 
 
 "I m not going to leave you here in this house/ 
 young Sanderson told her. "I ll not go. If you 
 stay, I stay." 
 
 She shook her head. "No, Phil you must go. 
 I m all right here as safe as I would be at home. 
 You know, he has a right to send me to prison if he 
 wants to. I suppose he is holding me as a hostage 
 against our friends in the hills." 
 
 The boy accepted her decree under protest. He 
 did not know what else to do. Decision comes only 
 with age, and he could hit on no policy that would 
 answer. Reluctantly he gave way. 
 
 "If you so much as touch her, you ll die for it/ 
 e gulped at Weaver, in a sudden boyish passion. 
 We ll shoot you down like a dog." 
 
 "Or a coyote," suggested Buck, with a swift 
 glance at Phyllis. "It seems to be a family habit. 
 I m much obliged to you." 
 
 Phyl was in her brother s arms, frankly in tears. 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 It was all very well to tell him to go ; it was quite 
 another thing to let him go without a good cry 
 at losing him. 
 
 "Just say the word, and I ll see it out with you, 
 sis," he told her. 
 
 "No, no ! I want you to go. I wouldn t have you; 
 stay. Tell the boys it s all right, and don t let 
 them do anything rash/ 
 
 Sanderson clenched his teeth, and looked at 
 Weaver. "Oh, they ll do nothing rash. Now they 
 know you re here, they won t do a thing but sit 
 down and be happy, I expect." 
 
 The twins whispered together for a minute, then 
 the boy kissed her, put her from him suddenly, and 
 strode away. From the door he called back two 
 words at the cattleman. 
 
 "Don t forget." 
 
 With that, he was gone. Yet a moment, and 
 they heard the clatter of his horse s hoofs. 
 
 "Why did you tell him?" Phyllis asked. "It will 
 only anger them. Now they will seek vengeance 
 on you." 
 
 The man shrugged his shoulders. "Search me. 
 Perhaps I wanted to prove to myself that a man 
 may be a mean bully, and not all coyote. Perhaps 
 I wanted to get under his hide. Who knows?" 
 
 She knew, in part. He had treated her abom 
 inably, and wanted blindly to pay for it in the first 
 way that came to his mind. Half savage as he 
 sometimes was, that way had been to stand up to 
 
MAVERICKS 125 
 
 personal punishment, to invite retaliation from his 
 enemies. 
 
 "You must have your face looked to. Shall I 
 call Josephine?" 
 
 "No/ he answered harshly. 
 
 "I think I will. We can help it, I m sure." 
 
 That "we" saved the day. He let her call the 
 Mexican woman, and order warm water, towels, 
 dressings, and adhesive plaster. It seemed to him 
 more than a fancy that there was healing in the 
 cool, soft fingers which washed his face and ad 
 justed the bandages. His eyes, usually so hard, 
 held now the dumb hunger one sees in those of a 
 faithful dog. They searched hers for something 
 which he knew he would never find in them. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 INTO THE ENEMY S COUNTRY 
 
 A man lay on the top of Flat Rock, stretched at 
 supple ease. By his side was a carbine ; in his hand 
 a pair of field glasses. These last had been trained 
 upon Twin Star Ranch for some time, but were 
 now focused upon a pair of approaching riders. 
 At the edge of the young willow grove the two 
 dismounted and came forward leisurely. 
 
 "Looks like the mountains are coming to Ma 
 homet this trip," the watcher told himself. 
 
 One figure was that of a girl a brown, light- 
 stepping nymph, upon whom the checkered sun 
 light filtered through the leaves. The other was a 
 finely built man, strong as an ox, but with the sap 
 of youth still in his blood and the spring of it in his 
 step, in spite of his nearly twoscore years. He 
 stopped at the foot of Flat Rock, and turned to his, 
 companion. 
 
 "I ve been wondering why you went riding with 
 me yesterday and again to-day, Miss Phyllis. I 
 reckon I ve hit on the reason." 
 
 "I like to ride." 
 
 126 
 
MAVERICKS 127 
 
 "Yes, but I expect you don t like to ride with me 
 so awful much." 
 
 "Yet you see I do," answered the girl with her 
 swift, shy smile. 
 
 "And the reason is that you know I would be 
 riding, anyway. You don t want any of your peo 
 ple from the hills to use me as a mark. With you 
 along, they couldn fi Bo it." 
 
 "My people don t shoot from ambush," she told 
 him hotly. It was easy to send her gallant spirit 
 out in quick defense of her kindred. 
 
 He looked at his arm, still resting in a sling, and 
 smiled significantly. 
 
 She colored. "That was an impulse," she told 
 him. 
 
 "And you re guarding me from any more family 
 impulses like it." He grinned. "Not that it flat 
 ters me so much, either. I ve got a notion tucked 
 in the back of my head that you re watching me 
 like a hen does her one chick, for their sake and not 
 for mine. Right guess, I ll bet a dollar. How 
 about it, Miss Sanderson?" 
 
 "Yes," she admitted. "At least, most for 
 hem." 
 
 "You d like to call the chase off for the sake of 
 the hunters, and not for the sake of the coyote." 
 
 "I wish you wouldn t throw that word up to me. 
 I oughtn t to have said that. Please!" 
 
 "All right I won t. It isn t your saying it, but 
 thinking it, that hurts." 
 
128 MAVERICKS 
 
 "I don t think it." 
 
 "You think I m entirely to blame in this trouble 
 with your people. Don t dodge. You know you 
 think I m a bully." 
 
 "I think you re very arbitrary," she replied, flush 
 ing. 
 
 "Same thing, I reckon. Maybe I am. Did you 
 ever hear my side of the story?" 
 
 "No. I ll listen, if you will tell me." 
 
 Weaver shook his head. "No I guess that 
 wouldn t be playing fair. You re on the other side 
 of the fence. That s where you belong. Come to 
 that, I m no white-winged angel, anyhow. All 
 that s said of me most of it, at least I sure 
 enough deserve." 
 
 "I wonder," she mused, smiling at him. 
 
 Scarcely a week before, she had been so imma 
 ture that even callow Tom Dixon had seemed 
 experienced beside her. Now she was a young 
 woman in bloom, instinctively sure of herself, even 
 without experience to guide her. Though he had 
 never said so, she knew quite well that this berserk 
 of the plains had begun to love her with all the 
 strength of his untamed heart. She would have 
 been less than human had it not pleased her, even 
 though, at the same time, it terrified her. 
 
 Buck swept his hand around the horizon. "Ask 
 Anybody. They ll all give me the same certificate 
 Df character. And I reckon they ain t so far out, 
 cither," he added grimly. 
 
MAVERICKS 129 
 
 "Perhaps they are all right, and yet all wrong, 
 too." 
 
 He looked at her in surprise. "What do you 
 mean?" 
 
 "Maybe they don t see the other side of you " , 
 said Phyllis gently. 
 
 "How do you know there s another side?" 
 
 "I don t know how, but I do." 
 
 "I reckon it must be a right puny one." 
 
 "It has a good deal to fight against, hasn t it?" 
 
 "You re right it has. There s a devil in me that 
 gets up on its hind legs and strangles what little 
 good it finds. But it certainly beats me how you 
 know so much that goes on inside a sweep like me." 
 
 "You forget. I m not very good myself. You 
 know my temper runs away with me, too." 
 
 "You blessed lamb!" she heard him say under 
 his breath ; and the way he said it made me excla 
 mation half a groan. 
 
 For her naive confession emphasized the gulf 
 between them. Yet it pleased him mightily that she 
 linked herself with him as a fellow wrongdoer. 
 
 "I suppose you ve been wondering why your peo 
 ple have made no attempt to rescue you," he said 
 presently; for he saw her eyes were turned toward 
 the hills beyond which lay her home. 
 
 "I m glad they haven t, because it must have 
 made trouble; but I am surprised," she confessed. 
 
 "They have tried it twice," he told her. "First 
 time was Saturday morning, just before daylight. 
 
130 MAVERICKS 
 
 We trapped them as they were coming through the 
 Box Canon. I knew they would come down that 
 way, because it was the nearest ; so I was ready for 
 them." 
 
 "And what happened?" Her dilated eyes were 
 like those of a stricken doe. 
 
 "Nothing that time. I let them see I had them 
 , caught. They couldn t go forward or back. They 
 laid down their arms, and took the back trail. 
 There was no other way to escape being mas 
 sacred." 
 
 "And the second time?" 
 
 Buck hesitated. "There was shooting that time. 
 It was last night. My riders outnumbered them 
 and had cover. We drove them back." 
 
 "Anybody hurt?" cried Phyllis. 
 
 "One of them fell. But he got up and ran limp 
 ing to his horse. I figured he wasn t hurt badly." 
 
 "Was he could you tell " She leaned 
 
 against the rock wall for support. 
 
 "No I didn t know him. He was a young fel 
 low. But you may be sure he wasn t hit mortally. 
 9 I know, because I shot him myself." 
 
 "You!" She drew back in a sudden sick horror 
 of him. 
 
 "Why not?" he answered doggedly. "They were 
 shooting at me aiming to kill, too. I shot low on 
 purpose, when I might have killed him." 
 
 "Oh, I must go home I must go home!" she 
 moaned. 
 
MAVERICKS 131 
 
 "I ve got the sheriff s orders to hold you pend 
 ing an investigation. What harm does it do you to 
 stay here a while ?" he asked doggedly. 
 
 "Don t you see? When my father hears of it he 
 will be furious. I made Phil promise not to tell 
 him. But he ll hear when he comes back. And 
 then there will be trouble. He ll drag me from 
 you, or he ll die trying. He s that kind of man." 
 
 A pebble rolled dov n the face of the wall against 
 which she leaned. Weaver looked up quickly to 
 find himself covered by a carbine. 
 
 "Hands up, seh! No don t reach for a gun." 
 
 "So it s you, Mr. Keller! Homesteading up 
 there, I presume?" 
 
 "In a way of speaking. You remember I asked 
 you a question." 
 
 "And I told you to go to Halifax." 
 
 "Well, I came back to answer the question my 
 self. You re going to turn the young lady loose." 
 
 "If you say so." Weaver s voice carried an in 
 flection of sarcasm. 
 
 "That s what I say. Miss Sanderson, will you 
 kindly unbuckle that belt and round up the weapons 
 of war? Good enough! I ll drift down that way 
 now myself." 
 
 Keller lowered himself from Flat Rock, keeping 
 his prisoner covered as carefully as he could the 
 while. But, though Keller came down the steep 
 bluff with infinite pains, the rough going offered a 
 chance of escape to one so reckless as Weaver, of 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 which he made not the least attempt to avail him 
 self. Instead, he smiled cynically and waited with 
 his hand in the air, as bidden. Keller, coming for 
 ward with both eyes on his prisoner, slipped on a 
 loose boulder that rolled beneath his foot, stum* 
 bled, and fell, almost at the feet of the cattleman. 
 He got up as swiftly as a cat. .Weaver and his 
 derisive grin were in exactly the same position. 
 
 Keller lowered his carbine instantly. This plainly 
 was no case for the coercion of arms. 
 
 "We ll cut out the gun play," he said. "Better 
 rest the hand thafs reaching for the sky. I expect 
 hostilities are over." 
 
 "You certainly had me scared stiff," Weaver 
 mocked. 
 
 From the first roll of the pebble that had an 
 nounced the presence of a third party, Phyl had ex 
 perienced surprise after surprise. She had expected 
 to see one of the Seven Mile boys or her brother 
 instead of Keller had looked with a quaking heart 
 for the cattleman to fling back the swift challenge 
 of a bullet. His tame surrender had amazed her, 
 especially when Keller s fall had given him a chance 
 ( to seize the carbine. His drawling, sarcastic badi 
 nage pointed to the same conclusion. Evidently 
 he had no desire to resist. Behind this must be 
 some purpose which she could not fathom. 
 
 "Elected yourself chaperon of the young lady, 
 have you, Mr. Keller?" Buck asked pleasantly. 
 
 The young man smiled at the girl before he an- 
 
MAVERICKS 133 
 
 swered. "You ve been losing- too much time on 
 the job, Mr. Weaver. Subject to her approval, I 
 got a notion I d take her back home." 
 
 "Best place for her," assented Weaver promptly. 
 "I ve been thinking* for a day or two that she ought 
 to get back to those school kids of hers. But I m 
 going to take her there myself." 
 
 "Yourself!" Phyllis spoke up in quick surprise. 
 
 "Why not ?" The cattleman smiled. 
 
 "Do you mean with your band of thugs?" 
 
 "No, ma am. You and I will be enough." 
 
 The suggestion was of a piece with his usual 
 audacity. The girl knew that he would be quite 
 capable of riding with her into the hills, where he 
 had a score of bitter, passionate enemies, and of 
 affronting them, if the notion should come into 
 his head, even in their stronghold. Within twenty- 
 four hours he had shot one of them; yet he would 
 go among them with his jaunty, mocking smile and 
 that hateful confidence of his. 
 
 "You would not be safe. They might kill you." 
 
 "Would that gratify you?" 
 
 "Yes!" she cried passionately. 
 
 He bowed. "Anything to give pleasure to a 
 lady." 
 
 "No you can t go! I won t go with you. I 
 wouldn t be responsible for what might happen." 
 
 "What might happen another family impulse?" 
 
 "You know as well as I do after what you ve 
 done. And there s bad blood between you already. 
 
134 MAVERICKS 
 
 Besides, you are so reckless, so intemperate in what 
 you say and do." 
 
 "All right. If you won t go with m^, I ll go 
 alone," he said. 
 
 She appealed to Keller to support her,, but the 
 latter shook his head. 
 
 "No use. A wilful man must have his way. If 
 he says he s going, I reckon he ll go. Bu whyfor 
 should I be euchred out of nr* ride. Let me go 
 along to keep the peace." 
 
 Her eyes thanked him. "If you are sure you 
 can spare the time." 
 
 "Don t incommode yourself, if you re in a hurry. 
 We won t miss you." Weaver s cold stare more 
 than hinted that three would be a crowd. 
 
 The younger man ignored him cheerfully. 
 "Time to burn, Miss Sanderson." 
 
 "You don t want to let that spring plowing suf 
 fer," the cattleman suggested ironically. 
 
 "That s so. Glad you mentioned it. I ll try 
 to pick up some one to do it at the store," returned 
 the optimist. 
 
 "Seems to me there are a pair of us, Mr. Keller, 
 who may not be welcome at Seven Mile. Last time 
 you were down there, weren t you the guest of some 
 willing lads who were arranging a little party for 
 you?" 
 
 "Mr. Weaver," reproached Phyllis, flushing. 
 
 But the reference did not embarrass the nester 
 in the least. He laughed hardily, meeting his rival 
 
MAVERICKS 135 
 
 eye to eye. "The boys did have notions, but I ex 
 pect maybe they have got over them." 
 
 "Nothing like being hopeful. Now I d back my 
 show against yours every day in the week." 
 
 The girl handed his revolver back to Weaver, 
 after first asking a question of the homesteader 
 with her eyes. 
 
 "Oh, I get my hardware back, do I?" Buck 
 grinned. 
 
 Keller brought his horse round from back of 
 Flat Rock, where it had been picketed. They 
 started at once, cutting across the plain to a flat 
 butte, which thrust itself out from the hills into the 
 valley. Two hours of steady travel brought them 
 to the butte, behind which lay Seven Mile ranch 
 
 At the first glimpse of the roofs shining in the 
 golden sunlight Phyllis gave a cry of delight. 
 
 "Home again. I wonder whether Father s here." 
 
 "I wonder," echoed Weaver grimly. 
 
 "That little fellow riding into the corral is one 
 of my scholars," she told them. 
 
 "One of the fourteen that loves you, Miss Going- 
 On-Eighteen. My, there ll be joy in Israel over the 
 lost that is found. I reckon by to-morrow you ll 
 be teaching the young idea how to shoot." He 
 glanced down at his bandaged arm with a malicious 
 grin. 
 
 Phyllis looked at him without speaking. It was 
 Keller who made application of the remark. 
 
 "There are others here beside her pupils. Some 
 
136 MAVERICKS 
 
 of them are right quick and straight on the shoot, 
 Mr. Weaver. Now you ve seen Miss Sanderson 
 home, there s still time to make your getaway with 
 out trouble. How about hitting the trail while trav 
 elling is good, seh?" 
 
 "What s the matter with you taking your owa 
 advice, Keller?" 
 
 "I don t figure the need is pressing in my case. 
 Different with you." 
 
 "I told you I would back my chances against 
 yours. Well, I m standing pat on that." 
 
 "The road will be open to me to-morrow. I won 
 der will it be open to you then." 
 
 "My friend, who elected you guardeen to Buck 
 Weaver?" drawled the big man carelessly. 
 
 "I wish you would go," Phyllis pleaded, plainly 
 troubled over his obstinacy. 
 
 "Me, I always hated to disoblige a lady," Buck 
 admitted. 
 
 "Then go," she cried eagerly. 
 
 "But I hate still more to go back on my word. 
 So I ll stay." 
 
 There was nothing more to be said. They rode 
 forward to the ranch. Rastus, at the stables, raised 
 a shout and broke for the store on the run. 
 : "Hyer s Miss Phyl done come home." 
 
 At his call light-stepping dusty men poured from 
 the building like seeds from a squeezed orange. 
 There was a rush for the girl. She was lifted from 
 her saddle and carried in triumph to the porch. 
 
MAVERICKS 137 
 
 Jim Sanderson came running from the cellar in the 
 rear and buried her in his arms. 
 
 She broke down and began to cry a little. "Oh, 
 Dad Dad, I m so glad to be home/ 
 
 The old Confederate veteran was close to tears 
 himself. 
 
 Honey, I jes got back from town. Phil, he 
 done wrong not letting me know. I come pretty 
 nigh giving that boy the bud. Wait till I meet up 
 with Buck Weaver. It s him or me for suah this 
 time." 
 
 "No, Dad, no! You must let me explain. I ve 
 been quite safe, and it s all over now. Everything 
 is all right." 
 
 "Is it?" Sanderson laughed harshly. 
 
 "The sheriff telephoned him to keep me, but you 
 see he brought me home." 
 
 "Brought you home?" The sheepman s black 
 eyes lifted quickly and met those of his enemy. 
 
 "So you re there, Buck Weaver. I reckon you 
 and I will settle accounts." 
 
 Phil and Tom Dixon had quietly circled round 
 so as to cut off Weaver s retreat in case he at 
 tempted one. 
 
 "He s got the rustler with him," Tom Dixon 
 cried quickly. 
 
 "Goddlemighty, so he has. We ll make a clean 
 sweep," the Southerner cried, his eyes blazing. 
 
 "Then you ll destroy the man who was ready to 
 give his life for mine," his daughter said quietly. 
 
138 MAVERICKS 
 
 "What s that? How s that, Phyllie?" 
 
 "It s a long story. I want you to hear it all. But 
 not here." 
 
 Her voice fell. A sudden memory had come to 
 her of one thing at least that she could not tell even/ 
 to him the story of that moment when she had 
 lain in the arms of the nester with his heart beat 
 ing against her breast. 
 
 The old man caught her by the shoulder, holding 
 her at arm s length, while the deep eyes under his 
 shaggy, grizzled brows pierced her. 
 
 "What have you got to tell me, gyurl? Out with 
 it!" 
 
 But on the heels of his imperative demand came 
 reassurance. A tide of color poured into her face, 
 but her eyes met his quietly. They let him under 
 stand, more certainly than words, that all was well 
 with his ewe lamb. Putting her gently to one side, 
 he strode toward his enemy. 
 
 "What are you doing here, Buck Weaver ?" 
 
 The cattleman swept the circle of lowering faces, 
 and laughed contemptuously. "A man might think 
 I wasn t welcome if he didn t know better." 
 
 "Oh, you re welcome I reckon nobody on earth 
 is more welcome right now," retorted Sanderson 
 grimly. We were starting right out after you, 
 seh. But seeing you re here it saves trouble. Bet 
 ter light, you and your friend, both." 
 
 The declining sun flashed on three weapons that 
 already covered the cattleman. He looked easily 
 
MAVERICKS 139 
 
 from one to another, without the least concern, and 
 swung lightly from his horse. 
 
 "Much obliged. Glad to accept your hospitality. 
 But about this young man here he s not exactly a 
 friend of mine a mere pick-up acquaintance, in 
 fact. You mustn t accept him on my say-so. Of 
 course, you know I m all right, but I can t guaran 
 tee him" Buck drawled, with magnificent effront- 
 eiy. 
 
 Phyllis spoke up unexpectedly. "I can." 
 
 Keller looked at her gratefully. It was not that 
 he cared so much for the certificate of character 
 as for the friendly spirit that prompted it. "That s 
 right kind of you," he nodded. 
 
 "We haven t heard yet what you are doing here, 
 Buck Weaver," old Jim Sanderson said, holding 
 the cattleman with a hard and hostile eye. "And 
 after you ve explained that, there are a few other 
 things to make clear." 
 
 "Such as " suggested the plainsman. 
 
 "Such as keeping my daughter a captive and in 
 sulting her while she was in your house," the father 
 retorted promptly. 
 
 "I held her captive because it was my right. She 
 admitted shooting me. Would you expect me to 
 turn her loose, and thank her right politely for it? 
 I want to tell you that some folks would be right 
 grateful because I didn t send her to the peni 
 tentiary." 
 
 "You couldn t send her there. No jury in Ari 
 
140 MAVERICKS 
 
 zona would convict even if she were guilty," Tom 
 Dixon broke out. 
 
 "That s a frozen fact about the Arizona jury," 
 the cattleman agreed, with a swift, careless look at 
 the boy. "Just the same, I had a license to hold her. 
 About the insult well, I ve got nothing to say. 
 Nothing except this, that I wouldn t be wearing 
 these decorations" he touched the scars on his 
 face "if I didn t agree with you that nobody but a 
 sweep would have done it." 
 
 "Everybody unanimous on that point, I reckon," 
 said Jim Yeager promptly. 
 
 Phyllis had been speaking to her father in a low 
 voice. The old man listened with no great patience, 
 but finally nodded a concession to her importunity. 
 
 "We ll waive the matter of the insult just now. 
 How about that boy you shot up ? Looks like you re 
 a fool to come drilling in here, with him still lying 
 there on his bed." 
 
 "He took his fighting chance. You ain t kicking 
 because I played out the game the way you-all 
 started to play it? If you are, I ll have to say I 
 might have expected a sheep herder to look at it 
 that way," Weaver retorted insolently. 
 
 The old man took a grip on his rising wrath. 
 "No we re not kicking, any more than you ve got 
 a right to kick when we settle accounts with 
 you." 
 
 "As we re liable to do right shortly, now we ve 
 got you," said Dixon, vindictively. 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "All right go ahead with the indictment," 
 Weaver acquiesced quietly, ignoring the boy. 
 
 "Keep still, Tom," Sanderson ordered, and went 
 on with his grievance. "You try to run this val 
 ley as if you were God Almighty. By your way of 
 it, a man has to come with hat in hand to ask you if 
 he may take up land here. The United States says 
 we may homestead, but Buck Weaver says we 
 shan t. Uncle Sam says we may lease land to run 
 sheep. Buck Weaver has another notion of it. 
 We re to take orders from him. If we don t he 
 clubs our sheep and drives off our cattle." 
 
 "Cattle were here first," retorted Weaver. "The 
 range is overstocked, and they ve got a prior right. 
 Nesters in the hills here are making money by 
 rustling Twin Star calves. That s another thing." 
 
 "Some of them. You ll not find any rustled 
 calves with the Seven Mile brand on them. And we 
 don t recognize any prior right. We came here le 
 gally. We intend to stay. Every time your riders 
 club a bunch of our sheep, we ll even up on Twin 
 Star cattle. You take my daughter captive ; I hold 
 you prisoner." 
 
 "You ll be in luck if you get away from here with 
 a whole skin," broke out Phil. "You came here to 
 please yourself, but you ll stay to please us." 
 
 "So?" Buck smiled urbanely. He was staying 
 because he wanted to, though they never guessed it. 
 
 "Unbuckle his gun belt, Tom," ordered the old 
 man. 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "Save you the trouble." Weaver unbuckled the 
 belt and tossed it, revolver and all, to Yeager. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Weaver, we ll adjourn to the house." 
 
 "Anything to oblige." 
 
 "What about Mr. Keller?" Phyllis asked, in a 
 low voice, of her father. 
 
 The old man s keen, hard eyes surveyed the stran 
 ger. "Who is he? What do you know about 
 him?" 
 
 As shortly as she could, she told what she knew 
 of Keller, and how he had rescued her from cap 
 tivity. 
 
 Her father strode forward and shook hands with 
 the young man. 
 
 "Make yourself at home, seh. We ll be glad 
 to have you stay with us as long as you can. What 
 you have done for my daughter puts us everlast 
 ingly in your debt." 
 
 "Not worth mentioning. And, to be fair, I think 
 Weaver was going to bring her home, anyhow." 
 
 "The way the story reached me, he didn t men 
 tion it until you had the drop on him," answered 
 Sanderson dryly. 
 
 "That s right," nodded the cattleman ironically, 
 from the porch. "You re the curly-haired hero, 
 Keller, and I m the red-headed villain of this play. 
 You want to beware of the miscreant, Miss San 
 derson, or he ll sure do you a meanness." 
 
 Tom Dixon eyed him frostily. "I expect you ll 
 not do her any meanness, Buck Weaver. From 
 
MAVERICKS 143 
 
 now on, you ll go one way and she ll go another. 
 You ll be strangers." 
 
 "You don t say!" Buck answered, looking him 
 over derisively, as he passed into the house. 
 "You re crowing loud for your size. And don t 
 you bet heavy on that proposition, my friend." 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 TOM DIXON 
 
 With whoops and a waving of caps boys burst 
 out of one door, while girls came out of the oppo 
 site one more demurely, but with the piping of gay 
 soprano voices. For school was out, and young 
 America free of restraint for eighteen hours at 
 least. Resilient youth, like a coiled spring that has 
 been loosed, was off with a bound. Horses were 
 saddled or put to harness. The teacher came to 
 the door, hand in hand with six-year-olds, who 
 clung to her with fond good-bys before they 
 climbed into the waiting buggies. The last strag 
 gler disappeared behind the dip in the road. 
 
 The girl teacher turned from waving her fare 
 wells to meet the eyes of a young man fastened 
 upon her. Light-blue eyes they were, set in a good- 
 looking, boyish face, that had somehow an effect of 
 petulancy. It was not a strong face, yet it was no 
 weaker than nine out of ten that one meets daily. 
 
 "Got rid of your kiddies, Phyl?" the young man 
 asked, with an air of cheerful confidence that 
 seemed to be assumed to cover a doubt. 
 
 Her eyes narrowed slightly. "They have just 
 144 
 
MAVERICKS 145 
 
 gone all but little Jimmie Tryon. He rides home 
 with me." 
 
 "Hang it! We never seem to be alone any more 
 since you came back," complained the man. 
 
 "Why should we?" asked the young woman, her 
 gaze apparently as frank and direct as that of a 
 boy. 
 
 But he understood it for a challenge. "You 
 didn t use to talk that way. You used to be glad 
 enough to see me alone," he flung out. 
 
 "Did I? One outgrows childish follies, I sup 
 pose," she answered quietly. 
 
 "What s the matter with you?" he cried angrily., 
 "It s been this way ever since " 
 
 He broke off. 
 
 A faint, scornful smile touched her lips. "Ever 
 since when, Tom?" 
 
 "You know when well enough. Ever since I 
 shot Buck Weaver." 
 
 "And left me to pay forfeit," she suggested 
 quickly, and as quickly broke off. "Hadn t we bet 
 ter talk of something else? I ve tried to avoid this. 
 Must we thrash it out?" 
 
 "You can t throw me over like that, after what s 
 been between us. I reckon you pretend to have for 
 gotten that I used to keep company with you." 
 
 A flush of annoyance glowed through the tan o-f 
 her cheeks, but her eyes refused to yield to his. 
 "Nonsense! Don t talk foolishness, Tom. We 
 were just children." 
 
146 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Do you mean that everything s all off between 
 us?" 
 
 "We made a mistake. Let us be goo3 friends and 
 forget it, Tom," she pleaded. 
 
 "What s the use of talking that way, Phyl?" He 
 swung from the saddle, and came toward her eag 
 erly. "I love you always have since I was knee- 
 high to a grasshopper. We re going to be married 
 one of these days." 
 
 She held up a hand to keep him back. "No 
 we re not. I know now that you re not the right 
 man for me, and I m not the right girl for you." 
 
 "I m the best judge of that," he retorted. 
 
 She shook her head with certainty. It seemed a 
 lifetime since this boy had kissed her at the dance 
 and she had run, tingling, from his embrace. She 
 felt now old enough in experience to be his mother. 
 
 "No, Tom let us both forget it. Go back to 
 your other girls, and let me be just a friend." 
 
 "I haven t any other girls," he answered sullenly. 
 "And I won t be put off like that. You ve got to 
 tell me what has come between us. I ve got a right 
 to know, and I m going to know." 
 
 "Yes, you have a right but don t press it. Just 
 let it go at this : I didn t know my own mind then, 
 and I do now." 
 
 "It s something about the shooting of Buck 
 Weaver," he growled uneasily. 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 "Well?" he demanded. "Out with it!" 
 
MAVERICKS 147 
 
 "I couldn t marry a man I don t respect from the 
 bottom of my heart," she told him gently. 
 
 "That s a dig at me, I reckon. Why don t you 
 respect me? Is it because I shot Weaver?" 
 
 "You shot him from ambush." 
 
 "I didn t!" he protested angrily. "You know 
 that ain t so, Phyl. I saw him riding down there, 
 as big as coffee, and I let him have it. I wasn t ly 
 ing in wait for him at all. It just came over me all 
 of a heap to shoot, and I shot before " 
 
 "I understand that. But you shouldn t have shot 
 without giving warning, even if it was right to 
 shoot at all which, of course, it wasn t." 
 
 "Well, say I did wrong. Can t you forgive a fel 
 low for making a mistake?" 
 
 "It isn t a question of forgiveness, Tom. Some 
 how it goes deeper than that. I can t tell you just 
 what I mean." 
 
 "Haven t I told you I m sorry?" he demanded, 
 with boyish impatience. 
 
 "Being sorry isn t enough. If you can t see it, 
 then I can t explain." 
 
 "You re sore at me because I left you," he mut 
 tered, and for very shame his eyes could not meet 
 hers. 
 
 "No I m not sore at you, as you call it. I 
 haven t the least resentment. But there s no use in 
 trying to hide the truth. Since you ask for it, you 
 shall have it. I don t want to be unkind, but I 
 couldn t possibly marry you after that." 
 
148 MAVERICKS 
 
 The young man looked sulkily across the valley, 
 his lips trembling with vexation and the shame of 
 knowing that this girl had been a witness of that 
 scene when he had fled like a scared rabbit and left 
 her to bear the brunt of what he had done. 
 
 "You told me to go, and now you blame me for 
 doing what you said/ he complained bitterly. 
 
 She realized the weakness of his defense that 
 he had saved himself at the expense of the girl he 
 claimed to love, simply because she had offered her 
 self as a sacrifice in his place. She thought of an 
 other man, who, at the risk of his life, had! held 
 back the half dozen pursuers just to give a better 
 chance to a girl he had not known a week. She 
 thought of the cattleman who had ridden gayly into 
 this valley of enemies, because he loved her, and 
 was willing to face any punishment for the wrong 
 he had done her. Her brother, too, pointed the 
 same moral. He had defied the enemy, though he 
 had been in his power. Not one of them would 
 have done what Tom Dixon, in his panic terror, 
 had allowed himself to do. But they were men, all 
 of them men of that stark courage that clings to 
 self-respect rather than to life. This youth had 
 met the acid test, and had failed in the assay. She 
 had no anger toward him only a kindly pity, and a 
 touch of contempt which she could not help. 
 
 "No I don t blame you, Tom," she told him, 
 very kindly. "But I can t marry you. I couldn t 
 
MAVERICKS 149 
 
 if you explained till Christmas. That is final. Now 
 let us be friends." 
 
 She held out her hand. He looked at it through 
 the tears of mortification that were in his eyes, 
 dashed it aside with an oath, swung to the saddle, 
 and galloped down the road. 
 
 Phyllis gave a wistful sigh. Tears filmed her 
 eyes. He was her first lover, had given her apples 
 and candy hearts when he was in the third grade 
 and she learning her A, B, C. So she felt a heart 
 ache to see him go like this. Their friendship was 
 shattered, too. Nor had she experience enough to 
 know that this could not have endured, save as a 
 form, after the wrench he had given it. Yet she 
 knew him well enough now to be sure that it was 
 his vanity and self-esteem that were hurt, and not 
 his love. He would soon find consolation among 
 the other ranch girls, upon whom he had been used 
 to lavish his attentions at intervals when she was 
 not handy to receive them. 
 
 "Was Tom Dixon mean to you, teacher?" 
 
 Little five-year-old Jimmie Tryon was standing 
 before her, feet apart, fists knotted, and brow fur 
 rowed. She swooped upon her champion and 
 snatched him up for a kiss. 
 
 "Nobody has been mean to teacher, Jimmie, you 
 dear little kiddikins," she cried. "It s all right, 
 honev. Tom thinks it isn t, but before long he ll 
 
 I010W it IS." 
 
150 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Who ll tell him?" Jimmie wanted to know 
 anxiously. 
 
 "Some nice girl, little curiosity box. I don t 
 know who yet, but it will be one of two or three 
 I could name," she laughed. 
 
 She harnessed the horse and hitched it to the trap 
 in which Jimmie and she came to school. But be 
 fore she had gathered up the reins to start, an 
 other young man strolled upon the scene. 
 
 This one was walking and carried a rifle. 
 
 At sight of him a glow began to burn through 
 her dark cheeks. They had not been alone together 
 before since that moment when the stress of their 
 emotion had swept them to a meeting of warm 
 lips and warm bodies that had startled her by the 
 electric pulsing of her blood. 
 
 Her eyes could not hold to his. Shame dragged 
 the lashes down. 
 
 With him it was not shame. The male in him 
 rode triumphant because he had moved a girl to the 
 deeps of her nature. But something in him, some 
 saving sense of embarrassment, of reverence for 
 the purity and innocence he sensed in her, made 
 him shrink from pressing the victory. His mind 
 cast about for a commonplace with which to meet 
 her. 
 
 He held up as a trophy of his prowess two cot 
 tontails. "Who says I can t shoot?" he wanted to 
 know boisterously. 
 
MAVERICKS 151 
 
 "Where did you buy them?" she scoffed, faintly 
 trying for sauciness. 
 
 "That s a fine reward for honest virtue, after I 
 tramped five miles to get them for your supper," 
 protested Keller. 
 
 She recovered her composure quickly, as women 
 will. 
 
 "If they are for my supper, we ll have to ask 
 him to ride home with us won t we, Jimmie? It 
 would never do to have them reach the ranch too 
 late," she said, making room for Keller in the seat 
 beside her. 
 
 It was after she had driven several hundred yards 
 that he said, with a smile : "I met a young man on 
 horseback as I was coming up. He went by me like 
 a streak of light. Looked like he found this a right 
 mournful world. You had ought to scatter sun 
 shine and not gloom, Miss Phyllis." 
 
 "Am I scattering gloom?" she asked demurely. 
 
 "Not right now," he laughed. "But looks like 
 you have been." 
 
 She flicked a fly from the flank of her horse be 
 fore she answered : "Some people are so noticing." 
 
 "It was hanging right heavy on him. Had the 
 look of a man who had lost his last friend," the 
 young man observed meditatively. 
 
 "Dear me ! How pathetic !" 
 
 "Yes he sure looked like he d rejoice to plug 
 another cattleman. I most arranged to send for 
 Buck Weaver again," said Keller calmly. 
 
152 MAVERICKS 
 
 Phyllis turned on him eyes brilliant with amaze 
 ment "What s that you say?" 
 
 "I said he looked some like he d admire to go 
 gunning again." 
 
 "Yes, but you said too " 
 
 "Sho! I ve been using my eyes and ears. I 
 never did find that story of yours easy to swallow. 
 When I discovered from your brother that you was 
 riding with Tom Dixon the day Buck was shot, 
 and when I found out from Rastus that the gun 
 that did the shooting was Dixon s, I surely smelt 
 a mouse. Come to mill the thing out, I knew you 
 led Buck s boys off on a blind trail, while the real 
 coyote hunted cover." 
 
 "He isn t a coyote," she objected. 
 
 Larrabie thought of the youth with a faint smile 
 of scorn. He knew how to respect an out-and-out 
 villain; but there was no bottom to a man who 
 would shoot from cover without warning, and then 
 leave a girl to bear the blame of his wrongdoing. 
 "No I reckon coyote is too big a name for him," 
 he admitted. 
 
 "Buck Weaver ruined his father and drove him 
 from his homestead. It was natural he should feel 
 a grudge." 
 
 "That s all right, too. We re talking about the 
 way he settled it. How come you to let him do it ?" 
 
 "I was riding about twenty yards behind him. 
 Suddenly I saw his gun go up, and stopped. I 
 thought it might be an antelope. As soon as he 
 
MAVERICKS 153 
 
 had fired, he turned and told me he had shot 
 Weaver. The poor boy was crazy with fear, now 
 that he had done it. I took his gun and made him 
 hide in the big rocks, while I cut across toward the 
 canon. The men saw me, and gave chase." 
 
 "They fired at you. Thank God, none of them 
 hit you," said Keller, with emphasis. 
 
 Her swift gaze appreciated the deep feeling that 
 welled from him. "Of course they did not know I 
 was a woman. All they could see was that some 
 body was riding through the chaparral." 
 
 "Jimmie, w r hat do you think of a girl game 
 enough to take so big a chance to save a friend? 
 Deserves a Carnegie medal, don t you reckon?" 
 Keller put the question to the third passenger, using 
 him humorously as a vent to his feelings. 
 
 Phyllis did not look at him, nor he at her. "And 
 what do you think of a man game enough to take 
 the same chance to save a girl who was not even 
 a friend?" the girl asked of little Jimmie, as lightly 
 as she could. 
 
 "Wasn t she? Well, if my friends will save my 
 life every time I need them to, like this enemy did, 
 il ll be satisfied with them a-plenty." 
 
 "He stood by her, too," she answered, trying to 
 keep the matter impersonal. 
 
 "Perhaps he wanted to make her his friend," 
 Larrabie suggested. 
 
 "There is no perhaps about his success," she said 
 quietly, her gaze just beyond the ears of her horse. 
 
154 MAVERICKS 
 
 The young man dared now to look at her a child 
 of the sun despite her duskiness. Eagerly he 
 awaited the deep, lustrous eyes that would pres 
 ently sweep round upon him, big and dark and 
 sparkling. When she turned her head, they were 
 full of that new womanly dignity that yet did not 
 obscure the shy innocence. 
 
 "Look!" Jimmie Tryon pointed suddenly to the 
 figure of a man disappearing from the road into 
 the mesquite two hundred yards in front of them. 
 
 "That s odd. I reckon you d better wait here, 
 and let me investigate a few," suggested Keller. 
 
 "Be careful," she said anxiously. 
 
 "It s all right. Don t worry," the young man as 
 sured her. 
 
 He got down from the trap and dived into the 
 underbrush, rifle in hand. The two in the buggy 
 waited a long time. No sound came to them from 
 the cactus-covered waste to indicate what was hap 
 pening. When Phyllis watch told her that he had 
 been gone ten minutes, a cheerful hail came from 
 the road in front. 
 
 "All right. Come on." 
 
 But it was far from all right. Keller had with ( 
 him an old Mexican herder, called Manuel Quito * 
 a man in the employ of her father. A bandanna* 
 was tied round his shoulder, and it was soaked with 
 bloodstains. He told his story with many shrugs 
 and much excited gesticulation. He and Jesus 
 Menendez had been herding on Lone Pine when 
 
MAVERICKS 155 
 
 riders of the Twin Star outfit had descended upon 
 them and attacked the sheep. He and Menendez 
 had elected to fight, and Jesus had been shot down ; 
 he himself had barely escaped with his life and 
 that not without a wound. The cow-punchers had 
 followed him, and continued to fire at him, but he 
 had succeeded in escaping. Yes he felt sure that 
 Menendez was dead. Even if he had not been dead 
 at first, they would have killed him. 
 
 Keller consulted Miss Sanderson silently. He 
 knew that she was thinking the thought that was 
 in his own mind. It would never do to let this 
 story reach her father and her brother, while Buck 
 Weaver was still in their power. Inflamed as they 
 already were against him, they would surely do in 
 hot blood that which they would repent later. Some 
 how, Keller and she must hold back the news until 
 they could contrive a way to free the cattleman. 
 
 "Best leave Manuel at the Tryon place till morn 
 ing. They will look out for him as well as you 
 can. That will give us twelve hours to work before 
 they hear what has happened." 
 
 "But what about poor Jesus, lying out there 
 alone?" 
 
 "We ll get Bob Tryon to drive out. But you 
 needn t worry about Jesus. If they found him still 
 living, the Twin Star boys will attend to him just 
 as kindly as we could. Cowboys have tender hearts, 
 even though they go off at half cock." 
 
 They did as Keller had suggested, and left the 
 
156 MAVERICKS 
 
 old Mexican under the care of Mrs. Tryon, having 
 pledged the family to a reluctant silence until morn 
 ing. Manuel s wound was not a bad one, and 
 there seemed to be no reason why he should not 
 do well. 
 
 It was difficult to decide upon a plan for the re- . 
 lease of Weaver. He was confined in an old log 
 cabin and watched continually by some one of the 
 riders ; but a tentative plan was accepted, subject to 
 revision if a better chance of escape should occur. 
 The success of this depended upon the possibility 
 of Keller drawing off the guard by a diversion, 
 while Phyllis slipped in and freed the prisoner. 
 
 The outlook was not roseate, but nothing better 
 occurred to them. One thing was sure if Buck 
 Weaver was not out of the hands of his enemies 
 before the news of this last outrage of his cowboys 
 reached them, his chance of life was not worth 
 even an odds-on bet. For the hot blood of the 
 South raced through the veins of the sheepmen. 
 They would strike first and think about it after 
 ward. And without doubt that first swift blow 
 would be a deadly one. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE ESCAPE 
 
 For the sixth time since the three-quarters, Phyl 
 lis looked at her watch by the light of a full moon, 
 which shone through the window of her bedroom. 
 The hands indicated five minutes to one. 
 
 In her stocking feet she stole out of the room, 
 downstairs, and along the porch to the heavy shad 
 ows cast by the cucumber vines that screened one 
 end of it. Here she waited, heart in mouth and 
 pulse beating like a trip hammer. 
 
 Presently came the mournful hoot of an owl 
 from the live oaks over in the pasture. Softly her 
 clear, melodious voice flung back the signal. Again 
 the minutes drummed eternally in silence. 
 
 But when at last this was shattered, it was with 
 a crash to wake the dead. The girl marvelled that 
 one man could fire so rapidly, and so often. The 
 night seemed to crackle with rifle and revolver 
 shots. To judge from the sound, there might be 
 a company engaged. 
 
 The expected happened. The door of the cabin, 
 in which lay the prisoner and Tom Dixon, was 
 
 157 
 
158 MAVERICKS 
 
 flung open. A dark form filled the doorway, and 
 the moonlight gleamed on the shining barrel of a 
 rifle. For an instant Tom stood so, trying to locate 
 the source of the firing. He disappeared into the 
 cabin, then reappeared. The door was closed and 
 locked. Taking what cover he could find, Tom 
 slipped over the fence, and into the mesquite on the 
 other side of the road. 
 
 Phyllis darted forward like a flame. Her trem 
 bling fingers fitted a key to the lock of the cabin. 
 Opening the door, she slipped in and closed it be 
 hind her. 
 
 "Where are you?" her young voice breathed. 
 
 "Over here by the fireplace. What is it all about, 
 Miss Sanderson?" 
 
 She groped her way to him. "Never mind now. 
 We ve got to hurry. Are you tied?" 
 
 "Yes hands and feet." 
 
 A beam of light through the window showed the 
 flash of a knife. With a few hacks of the blade, 
 she had freed him. He was about to rise when the 
 door opened and a head was thrust in. 
 
 "What s the row, Tom?" 
 
 Weaver growled an answer. "He isn t here. 
 Pulled out when the firing began. I wish you d 
 tell me what it is all about." 
 
 But the head was already withdrawn, and its 
 owner scudding toward the fray. Phyllis rose 
 from the foot of the cot, where she had crouched. 
 
 "Cornel" she told the cattleman imperiously, and 
 
MAVERICKS 159 
 
 led the way from the cabin in a hurried flight for 
 the porch shadows. 
 
 They had scarcely reached these when another 
 half -clad figure emerged from the house, rifle in 
 hand, and plunged across the road into the cacti. 
 He, too, headed for the scene of the now intermit* 
 tent shooting. 
 
 "Now!" cried Phyllis, and gave her hand to the 
 man huddled beside her. 
 
 She led him into the dark house, up the stairs, 
 and into her room. He would have prolonged the 
 sweet intimacy of that minute had it been in his 
 power; but, once inside the chamber, she withdrew 
 her fingers. 
 
 "Stay here till I come back," she ordered. "I 
 must show myself, so as not to arouse suspicion." 
 
 "But tell me what does it mean?" demanded 
 Buck. 
 
 "It means we re trying to save your life. What 
 ever happens, don t leave this room or let yourself 
 be seen at the window. If you do, we re lost." 
 
 With that she was gone, flying down the stairs 
 to show herself as an apparition of terror to learn 
 \what was wrong. 
 
 She heard the returning warriors as they reached 
 the door of the log cabin. They had thrashed 
 through the live-oak grove and found nothing, and 
 were now hurrying back to the prison house, full oi 
 suspicions. 
 
 "He s gone !" she heard Phil cry from within* 
 
160 MAVERICKS 
 
 Came then the sound of excited voices, and pres 
 ently the shaft of light from a kerosene lamp. Feet 
 trampled in the cabin. Phyllis heard the cot being 
 kicked over. This moment she chose for her en 
 trance. 
 
 "What in the world is the matter ?" she asked in 
 nocently, from the doorway. 
 
 "He s got away we ve been tricked !" Tom told 
 her furiously. 
 
 "But how?" 
 
 "Never mind, Phyl. Go back to your room. 
 There may be trouble yet. By God, there will be if 
 we find him, or his friends!" her father swore. 
 
 Another figure blocked the doorway. This time 
 it was Keller, hatless and coatless, as if he had 
 come quickly from a hurried waking. He, too, 
 fired blandly the inevitable: "What s the trouble?" 
 
 "Nothing except that we are a bunch of first- 
 class locoed fools," snapped Tom. "We ve lost our 
 prisoner that s what s the matter." 
 
 Larrabie came in and looked inquiringly from 
 one to another. "I thought you kept him guarded.* 
 
 "We did, but they drew Tom off on a false trail," 
 explained Phil. 
 
 "I notice they worked the rest of us, too," re 
 torted his father tartly. 
 
 "I heard the shooting," Keller said innocently. 
 His eyes drifted to a meeting with those of Phyllis. 
 His telegraphed a question, and hers answered that 
 the prisoner was safe so far. 
 
MAVERICKS 161 
 
 "A dead man could have heard it," suggested 
 Phil, not without sarcasm. "Sounded like a battle 
 and when we got there not a soul could be found. 
 Beats me how they got away so slick." 
 
 Annoyance, disappointment, disgust were in the 
 air. Keller remained to be properly sympathetic, 
 while Phyllis slipped back to her room, as she had 
 been told to do. 
 
 She found Weaver sitting by the window looking 
 out. He turned his head quickly when she entered. 
 
 "Now, if you ll kindly tell me what s doing, I ll 
 not die of curiosity," he began. 
 
 "It s all your wicked men," she told him bluntly. 
 "They have killed one of our herders and wounded 
 another. Mr. Keller and I met the wounded man 
 as he was coming back to the ranch. We stopped 
 him and took him to a neighbor s. If they had 
 known, my people would have revenged themselves 
 on you. They are hot-blooded men, quick to strike. 
 I was afraid we were both afraid of what they 
 would do. So we planned your escape. Mr. Kel 
 ler slipped into the chaparral, and feigned an at 
 tack upon the ranch, to draw the boys off. I had 
 got the other key to the cabin from the nail above 
 father s bed. When Tom left, I came to you. That 
 is all." 
 
 "But what am I to do here?" 
 
 "They will scour the valley and watch the pass. 
 If we had let you go, the chances are they would 
 have caught you again," 
 
162 MAVERICKS 
 
 "And if they had caught me, you think they 
 would have killed me?" 
 
 "Doesn t the Bible say that he who takes the 
 sword shall perish by the sword? Are you a god, 
 :that you should kill when you please and expect to 
 ^ escape the law that has been written?" 
 
 "You say I deserve death, yet you save my life." 
 
 "I don t want blood on the hands of my people." 
 
 "Personally, then, I don t count in the matter," 
 said Weaver, with his old sneer. 
 
 She had saved him, but her anger was hot against 
 the slayers of poor Jesus Menendez. "Why should 
 you count? I am no judge of how great a punish 
 ment you deserve; but my father and my brother 
 shall not inflict it, if I can help. They must not 
 carry the curse of Cain on them." 
 
 "But Cain killed a brother," he jeered. "I am 
 not a brother, but a wolfish Amalekite. Come 
 the harvest is ripe. Send me forth to the reapers." 
 
 He arose as if to go; but she was at the door 
 before him, arms extended to block the way. 
 
 "No, no, no ! Are you mad ? I tell you they will 
 kill you to-morrow, when the news comes." 
 
 "The judgment of the Lord upon the wicked," he 
 answered, with his derisive smile. 
 
 "You do nothing but mock at your own death, 
 at that of others. But you shan t go. I ve saved 
 you. Your life belongs to me," she cried, a little 
 wildly 
 
 "If you put it that way " 
 
MAVERICKS 163 
 
 "You know what I mean," she broke in fiercely. 
 "Don t dare to pretend to misunderstand me. I ve 
 saved you from my people. You shan t go back to 
 them out of spite or dare-deviltry." 
 
 "Just as you say." 
 
 "I should think you d be ashamed to be so trivial 
 You seem to think all our lives are planned foi 
 your amusement." 
 
 "I wish yours were planned " He pulled 
 
 himself up short. "You re right, Miss Sanderson, 
 I m acting like a schoolboy. I ll put myself in your 
 hands. Whatever you want me to do, I ll do." 
 
 "I want you to stay here until they come back 
 from searching for you. You may have to spend 
 all day in this room. Nobody will come here, and 
 you will be quite safe. When night comes again, 
 we ll arrange a chance for you to get away." 
 
 "But I ll be driving you out," he protested. 
 
 "I m going to sleep with Anna the daughter of 
 our housekeeper, Mrs. Allan. She ll suppose me 
 nervous on account of the shooting. Lock the door. 
 I ll give three taps when I want to come in. If 
 anybody else knocks, don t answer. You may sleep 
 without fear." [ 
 
 "Just a moment." He flung up a hand to detain 
 her, then poured out in a low voice part of the 
 feeling pent up in him. "Don t think I haven t the 
 decency to appreciate this. I don t care why you 
 do it. The point is that you have saved my life. 
 I can t begin to tell you what I think of this. You ll 
 
164 MAVERICKS 
 
 surely have to take my thanks for granted till I get 
 a chance to prove them." 
 
 She nodded, her eyes grown suddenly shy. 
 "That s all right, then." And with that she left 
 ^him to himself. 
 
 Buck Weaver could not sleep for the thoughts 
 ^that crowded upon him; but they were not of his 
 danger, great as that still was. The joy of her, and 
 of the thing she had done, flooded him. He might 
 pretend to cynicism to hide his deep pleasure in it; 
 none the less, he was moved profoundly. 
 
 The night wore itself away, but before morn 
 ing had broken he saw her again. She came with 
 her three light taps, and he opened the door to find 
 her in the passage with a tray of food. 
 
 "I didn t dare cook you any coffee. There s 
 nothing hot just what happened to be in the pan 
 try. Mrs. Allan won t miss it, because the boys 
 are always foraging at all hours. She ll think one 
 of them got hungry. Of course, I couldn t wait till 
 morning," she explained, as she put the tray on 
 the table. 
 
 Weaver experienced anew the stress of humility 
 and emotion. He caught up her little hand and 
 crushed it with a passion of tenderness in his great 
 fist. She looked at him in the old, startled, shy 
 way ; then snatched her hand from him, and, with a 
 wildly beating heart, scudded along the passage and 
 down the back stairs. 
 
 He sank into a chair, with a groan. What use? 
 
MAVERICKS 165 
 
 This creature, fine as silk, the heiress of all that 
 youth had to offer in daintiness and charm, was not 
 could not be for such as he. He had gone too 
 far on the road to hell, ever to find such a heaven 
 open to him. 
 
 How long he sat so, he did not know. Probably 
 not long, but gray morning was sweeping back the 
 curtain of darkness when he came from his ab 
 sorption with a start. Somebody had tapped thrice 
 for admittance. 
 
 He arose and unlocked the door. A young 
 woman stood outside the threshold, peering into 
 the semi-darkness toward him. 
 
 "Is it you, Phyl ?" she asked. 
 
 The cattleman said nothing. On the spur of the 
 moment, he could not think of the fitting speech. 
 The eyes of his visitor, becoming accustomed to 
 the dim light, saw before her the outline of a man. 
 She let out a startled little scream that ended in a 
 laugh of apology. 
 
 "It s Phil, isn t it?" 
 
 There was no way out of it. "No it s not Phil. 
 Come in, ma am, and I ll explain," said Buck 
 Weaver. 
 
 Instead, she turned and ran headlong, along the 1 
 passage, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. 
 Here she came face to face with her young mis 
 tress. 
 
 "What s the matter? You look as if you had 
 seen a ghost." 
 
166 MAVERICKS 
 
 "I have! At least, I ve seen a man in your 
 
 room." 
 
 "In my room? What were you doing there?" 
 demanded Phyllis sharply. 
 
 "Looking for you. I wakened and found you 
 gone. I thought oh, I don t know what I 
 thought." 
 
 Phyllis knew perfectly how it had come about. 
 Anna Allan was a very curiosity box and a born 
 gossip. She had to have her little pug nose in 
 everybody s business. 
 
 "So you think you saw somebody in my room?" 
 her mistress said quietly. 
 
 "I don t think. I saw him." 
 
 "Saw whom? Phil, or was it Father?" suggested 
 the other, with a hint of gentle scorn. 
 
 "No he was a stranger. I think it was Mr. 
 Weaver, but I m not sure." 
 
 "Nonsense, Anna! Don t be foolish. What 
 would he be doing there? I ll go and see myself. 
 You stay here." 
 
 She went, and returned presently. "It must have 
 
 been one of the boys. I wouldn t say anything 
 
 about it, Anna. No use stirring up bogeys now, 
 
 vvhen everybody is excited over the escape of that 
 
 >man." 
 
 "All right, ma am. But I saw somebody, just 
 the same," the girl maintained obstinately. 
 
 "No doubt it was Phil. He was up to see me." 
 
 Anna said no more then; but she took occasion 
 
MAVERICKS 167 
 
 later to find out from Phil, without letting him 
 know that she was pumping him, that he had been 
 searching the hills until after six o clock. One by 
 one she eliminated every man in the house as a pos* 
 sibility. In the end, she could not doubt her eyes 
 and her ears. Her young mistress had lied to her, 
 to save the man in her room. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A MISTAKE 
 
 At breakfast, a ranchman brought in the news of 
 the attack upon the sheep camp, and by means of 
 it set fire to a powder magazine. The Sandersons 
 went ramping mad for the moment. They saw red ; 
 and if they could have laid hands on their enemy, 
 they would undoubtedly have made an end of him. 
 
 Phyllis, seeing the fury of their passion, trem 
 bled for the safety of the man upstairs. He might 
 be discovered at any moment. Yet she must go to 
 school as if nothing were the matter, and leave him 
 to whatever fate might have in store. 
 
 When the time came for her to go, she could 
 hardly bring herself to leave. 
 
 She was in her room, putting in the few minutes 
 she usually spent there, rearranging her hair and 
 giving the last few touches to her toilet after the 
 breakfast. 
 
 "I hate to go," she confessed to Weaver. "Prom 
 ise me you ll not make a sound or open the door to 
 anybody while I m away." 
 
 "I promise," he told her. 
 168 
 
MAVERICKS 169 
 
 She was very greatly troubled, and could not help 
 showing it. Her face was wan and drawn, all the 
 youthful life stricken out of it. 
 
 "It will be all right," he reassured her. "I ll sit 
 here and read, without making a sound. Nothing 
 will happen. You ll see." 
 
 "Oh, I hope not I hope not!" she cried in a 
 whisper. "You will be careful, won t you?" 
 
 "I sure will. A hen with one chick won t be a 
 circumstance to me." 
 
 Larrabie Keller had hitched her horse and 
 brought it round to the front door. She leaned 
 toward him after she had gathered the reins. 
 
 "You ll not go far away, will you? And if any 
 thing happens " 
 
 "But it won t Why should it?" 
 
 "Anna knows. She blundered upon him." 
 
 "Will she keep it quiet?" 
 
 "I think so, but she s a born gossip. Don t leave 
 her alone with the boys." 
 
 "All right," he nodded. 
 
 "I feel as if I ought to stay at home," the young 
 teacher said piteously, hoping that he would en 
 courage her to do so. 
 
 He shook his head. "No you ve got to go, to 
 divert suspicion. It will be all right here. I ll keep 
 both eyes open. Don t forget that I m going to be 
 on the job all day." 
 
 "You re so good!" 
 
 "After I ve been around you a while. It s catch* 
 
170 MAVERICKS 
 
 ing." He tucked in the dust robe, without looking 
 at her. 
 
 But she looked at him, as she started, with that 
 swift, shy glance of hers, and felt the pink tint her 
 cheeks beneath the tan. He was much in her 
 thoughts, this slender brown man with the look of 
 quiet competence and strength. Ever since that 
 night in the kitchen, he had impressed himself 
 upon her imagination. She had fallen into the way 
 of comparing him with Tom Dixon, with her own 
 brother, with Buck Weaver and never to his dis 
 advantage. 
 
 He talked with a drawl. He walked and rode 
 with an air of languid ease. But the man himself, 
 behind the indolence that sat upon him so grace 
 fully, was like a coiled spring. Sometimes she could 
 see this force in his eyes, when for the moment some 
 thought eclipsed the gay good humor of them. 
 Winsome he was. He had already won her father, 
 even as he had won her. But the touch of affection 
 in his manner never suggested weakness. 
 
 From the porch Tom Dixon watched her de 
 parture sullenly. Since he could not have her, he 
 let himself grow jealous of the man who perhaps 
 could. And because he was what he was a small 
 man, full of vanity and conceit he must needs 
 make parade of himself with another girl in the 
 role of conquering squire. Larrabie smiled as the 
 young fellow went off for a walk in obviously con- 
 
MAVERICKS 171 
 
 fidential talk with Anna Allan, but he learned soon 
 that it was no smiling matter. 
 
 Half an hour later, the girl came flying back 
 along the trail the two had taken. Catching sight 
 of Keller, she ran across to him, plainly quivering 
 with excitement and fluttering with fears. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Keller I ve done it now! I didn t 
 think I thought " 
 
 "Take it easy," soothed the young man, with one 
 of his winning smiles. "Now, what is it you have 
 done?" Already his eyes had picked out Dixon 
 returning, not quite so impetuously, along the trail. 
 
 "I told him about the man in Phyllis room." 
 
 Larrabie s eyes narrowed and grew steely. 
 "Yes?" 
 
 "I told him I don t know why, but I never could 
 keep a secret. I made him promise not to tell. But 
 he is going to tell the boys. There he comes now. 
 And I told Phyllis I wouldn t tell!" Anna began 
 to cry, miserably aware that she had made a mess 
 of things. 
 
 "I just begged him not to tell and he had prom 
 ised. But he says it s his duty, and he s going to do 
 it. Oh, Mr. Keller if Mr. Weaver is there they 
 will hurt him, and I ll be to blame." 
 
 "Yes, you will be," he told her bluntly. "But we 
 may save him yet if you can go about your busi 
 ness and keep your mouth shut." 
 
 "Oh, I will I will," she promised eagerly. "HJ 
 not say a word not to anybody." 
 
N 
 
 MAVERICKS 
 
 "See that you don t. Now, run along- home. 
 I m going to have a quiet little talk with that young 
 man. Maybe I can persuade him to change his 
 mind," he said grimly. 
 
 "Please if you could. I don t want to start any 
 j trouble." c 
 
 Larrabie grinned, without taking his eyes from 
 the man coming down the trail. It was usually 
 some good-natured idiot, with a predisposition to 
 gabbling 1 , that made most of the trouble in the 
 world. 
 
 "Well, you be a good girl and padlock your 
 tongue. If you do, I ll fix it up with Tom," he 
 promised. 
 
 He sauntered forward toward the path. Dixon, 
 full of his news, was hurrying to the ranch. He 
 was eager to tell it to the Sandersons, because he 
 wanted to reinstate himself in their good graces. 
 For, though neither of them knew he had fired the 
 shot that wounded Weaver, he had observed a dis 
 tinct coolness toward him for his desertion of 
 Phyllis in her time of need. It had been all very 
 well for him to explain that he had thought it best 
 to hurry home to get help. The fact remained that 
 he had run away and left her alone. 
 
 Now he was for pushing past Keller with a curt 
 nod, but the latter stopped him with a lift of the 
 hand. 
 
 "What s your sweat?" 
 
 "Want to see me, do you ?" 
 
MAVERICKS 173 
 
 Keller nodded easily. 
 
 "All right. Unload your mind. I can t give 
 you but a minute." 
 
 "Press of business on to-day?" 
 
 "It s my business." 
 
 "I m going to make it mine." 
 
 "What do you mean ?" came the quick, suspicious 
 retort 
 
 "Let s walk back up the trail and talk it over." 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Their eyes clashed, and those of the stronger 
 man won. 
 
 "We can talk it over here," Dixon said sullenly. 
 
 "We can, but we won t." 
 
 "I don t know as I want to go back up the trail." 
 
 "Come." Larrabie let a hand fall on the shoul 
 der of the other man a brown, strong hand that 
 showed no more uncertainty than the steady eyes. 
 
 Dixon cursed peevishly, but after a moment he 
 turned to go back. He did not know why he went, 
 except that there was something compelling about 
 this man. Besides, he told himself, his news would 
 keep for half an hour without spoiling. They 
 walked nearly a quarter of a mile before he stopped. 
 
 "Now get busy, Mr. Keller. I ve got no time to 
 monkey," he stormed, attempting to regain what 
 he had lost by his concession. 
 
 "Sho! You ve got all day. This rush notion 
 is the great failing of the American people. We 
 
174 MAVERICKS 
 
 hadn t ought to go through life on the lope no, 
 sir ! We need to take the rest cure for that habit," 
 Larrabie mused aloud, seating himself on a flat 
 boulder between Tom and the ranch. 
 
 Dixon let out an oath. "Did you bring me here 
 to tell me that durn foolishness?" 
 
 "Not only to tell you. I figured we would try 
 out the rest cure, you and me. We ll get close to 
 nature out here in the sunshine, and not do a thing 
 but rest till the cows come home," Keller explained 
 easily. His voice was indolent, his manner ami 
 able; but there was a wariness in his eyes that 
 showed him prepared for any move. 
 
 So it happened that when Dixon made the ex 
 pected dash into the chaparral Keller nailed him in a 
 dozen strides. 
 
 "Let me alone! Let me go!" cried Torn furi 
 ously. "You ve got no business to keep me 
 here." 
 
 "I m doing it for pleasure, say." 
 
 The other tried to break away, but Larrabie had 
 caught his arm and twisted it in such a way that he 
 could not move without great pain. Impotently 
 he writhed and cursed. Meanwhile his captor re 
 lieved him of his revolver, and, with a sudden turn, 
 dropped him to the ground and stepped back. 
 
 "What s eating you, Keller? Have you gone 
 plumb crazy? Gimme back that gun and let me 
 go," the young fellow screamed. 
 
 "You don t need the gun right now. Maybe, if 
 
MAVERICKS 175 
 
 you had it, you might take a notion to plug me the 
 way you did Buck Weaver." 
 
 "What what s that?" Then, in angry suspi 
 cion: "I suppose Phyllis told you that lie." 
 
 He had not finished speaking before he regretted 
 it. The look in the face of the other told him that 
 he had gone too far and would have to pay for it. 
 
 "Stand up, Tom Dixon! You ve got to take a 
 thrashing for that. There s been one coming to 
 you ever since you ran away and left a girl to stand 
 the gaff for you. Now it s due." 
 
 "I don t want to fight," Tom whined. "I reckon 
 I oughtn t to have said that, but you drove me to it. 
 I ll apologize " 
 
 "You ll apologize after your thrashing, not be 
 fore. Stand up and take it." 
 
 Dixon got to his feet very reluctantly. He was a 
 larger man than his opponent by twenty pounds a 
 husky, well-built fellow; but he was entirely with 
 out the fighting edge. He knew himself already a 
 beaten man, and he cowered in spirit before his 
 lithe antagonist, even while he took off his coat and 
 squared himself for the attack. For he knew, as 
 did anybody who looked at him carefully, that Kel- 
 ter was a game man from the marrow out. 
 
 Men who knew him said of Larrabie Keller that 
 he could whip his weight in wild cats. Get him 
 started, and he was a small cyclone in action. But 
 now he went at his man deliberately, with hard, 
 straight, punishing blows. 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 Dixon fought back wildly, desperately, but could 
 not land. He could see nothing but that face with 
 the chilled-steel eyes, but when he lashed out it 
 was never there. Again and again, through the 
 openings he left, came a right or a left like a 
 pile driver, with the weight of one hundred and 
 sixty pounds of muscle and bone back of it. He 
 tried to clinch, and was shaken off by body blows. 
 At last he went down from an uppercut, and stayed 
 down, breathing heavily, a badly thrashed man. 
 
 "For God s sake, let me alone! I ve had 
 enough," he groaned. 
 
 "Sure of that?" 
 
 "You ve pretty near killed me." 
 
 Larrabie laughed grimly. "You didn t get half 
 enough. I ll listen to that apology now, my 
 friend." 
 
 With many sighs, the prostrate man came through 
 with it haltingly. "I didn t mean I hadn t ought 
 to have said " 
 
 Keller interrupted the tearful voice. "That ll be 
 enough. You will know better, next time, how to 
 speak respectfully of a lady. While we re on the 
 subject, I don t mind telling you that nobody told 
 me. I m not a fool, and I put two and two to 
 gether. That s all. I m not her brother. It wasn t 
 my business to punish you because you played the 
 coyote. But when you said she lied to me, that s 
 another matter." 
 
 For very shame, trampled in the dust as he had 
 
MAVERICKS 177 
 
 been, Tom could not leave the subject alone. Be 
 sides, he had to make sure that the story would be 
 kept secret. 
 
 "The way of it was like this : After I shot Buck 
 Weaver, we saw they would kill me if I was caught ; 
 so we figured I had better hunt cover. Course I 
 knew they wouldn t hurt a girl any," he got out 
 sullenly. 
 
 "You don t have to explain it to me," answered 
 the other coldly. 
 
 "You ain t expecting to tell the boys about me 
 shooting Buck, are you?" Dixon asked presently, 
 hating himself for it. But he was afraid of Phil 
 and his father. They had told him plainly what 
 they thought of him for leaving the girl in the 
 lurch. If they should discover that he had done 
 the shooting and left her to stand the blame for it, 
 they would do more than talk. 
 
 "I certainly ought to tell them. Likely they may 
 want to see you about it, and hear the particu 
 lars." 
 
 "There ain t any need of them knowing. If 
 Phyl had wanted them to know, she could have told 
 them," said Tom sulkily. He had got carefully to 
 his feet, and was nursing his face with a handker- \ 
 chief. 
 
 "We ll go and break our news together," sug 
 gested the other cheerfully. "You tell them you 
 think Weaver is in her room, and I ll tell them my 
 little spiel 
 
178 MAVERICKS 
 
 "There s no need telling them about me shooting 
 Weaver, far as I can see. I d rather they didn t 
 know." 
 
 "For that matter, there s no need telling them 
 your notions about where Buck is right now." 
 
 Tom said nothing,, but his dogged look told Lar- 
 rabie that he was not persuaded. 
 
 "I tell you what we ll do," said Keller, then: 
 "We ll unload on them both stories, or we won t 
 tell them either. Which shall it be?" 
 
 Dixon understood that an ultimatum was being 
 served on him. For, though his former foe was 
 smiling, the smile was a frosty one. 
 
 "Just as you say. I reckon it s your call," he ac 
 quiesced sourly. 
 
 "No I m going to leave it to you," grinned 
 Larrabie. 
 
 The man he had thrashed looked as if he would 
 like to kill him. "We ll close-herd both stories, 
 then." 
 
 "Good enough! Don t let me keep you any 
 longer, if you re in a hurry. Now we ve had our 
 little talk, I m satisfied." 
 
 But Dixon was not satisfied. He was stiff and 
 sore physically, but mentally he was worse. He had 
 played a poor part, and must still do so. If he 
 went down to the ranch with his face in that con 
 dition, he could not hope to escape observation. 
 His vanity cried aloud against submitting to the 
 comment to which he would be subjected. The 
 
MAVERICKS 179 
 
 whole story of the thrashing would be bound to 
 come out. 
 
 "I can t go down looking like this," he growled. 
 
 "Do you have to go down?" 
 
 "Have to get my horse, don t I ?" 
 
 "I ll bring it to you." , 
 
 "And say nothing about what has happened ?" 
 
 "I don t care to talk of it any more than you 
 do. I ll be a clam." 
 
 "All right I ll wait here." Tom sat down on 
 a boulder and chewed tobacco, his head sunk in his 
 clenched palms. 
 
 Keller walked down the trail to the ranch. He 
 was glad to go in place of Dixon; for he felt that 
 the young man was unstable and could not be de 
 pended upon not to fall into a rage, and, in a pas 
 sionate impulse, tell all he knew. He saddled the 
 horse, explaining casually to the wrangler that he 
 had lost a bet with Tom, by the terms of which he 
 had to come down and saddle the latter s mount. 
 
 He swung to the back of the pony and cantered 
 up the trail. But before he had gone a hundred 
 yards, he was off again, examining the hoofmarks 
 the animal left in the sand. The left hind mark 
 differed from the others in that the detail was 
 blurred and showed nothing but a single flat stamp. 
 
 This seemed to interest Keller greatly. He picked 
 up the corresponding foot of the cow pony, and 
 found the cause of the irregularity to be a deform 
 ity or swelling in the ball of the foot, which appar- 
 
180 MAVERICKS 
 
 ently was now its normal condition. The young 
 man whistled softly to himself, swung again to the 
 saddle, and continued on his way. 
 
 The owner of the horse had his back turned and 
 did not hear him coming as he padded up the soft 
 trail. The man was testing in his hand something 
 that clicked. 
 
 Larrabie swung quietly to the ground, and 
 waited. His eyes were like tempered steel. 
 
 "Here s your horse," he said. Before the other 
 man moved, he drawled: "I reckon I d better tell 
 you I m armed, too. Don t be hasty." 
 
 Dixon turned his swollen face to him in a child 
 ish fury. He had picked up, and was holding in his 
 hand, the revolver Larrabie had taken from him 
 and later thrown down. "Damn you, what do 
 you mean? It s my own gun, ain t it? Mean to 
 say I m a murderer?" 
 
 "I happen to know you have impulses that way. 
 I thought I d check this one, to save you trouble." 
 
 He was standing carelessly with his right hand 
 resting on the mane of the pony; he had not even 
 taken the precaution of lowering it to his side, 
 where the weapon might be supposed to lie. 
 
 For an instant Tom thought of taking a chance. 
 The odds would be with him, since he had the re 
 volver ready to his fingers. But before that indom 
 itable ease his courage ebbed. He had not the 
 stark fighting nerve to pit himself against such a 
 man as this. 
 
MAVERICKS 181 
 
 "I don t know as I said anything about shooting. 
 Looks like you re trying to fasten another row on 
 me," the craven said bitterly. 
 
 "I m content if you are; and as far as I m con 
 cerned, this thing is between us two. It won t go 
 any further." 
 
 Keller stood aside and watched Dixon mount. 
 The hillman took his spleen out on the horse, find 
 ing that the safest vent for his anger. He jerked 
 its head angrily, cursed it, and drove in the spurs 
 cruelly. With a leap, the cow pony was off. In 
 fifty strides it reached the top of the hill and dis 
 appeared. 
 
 Keller laughed grimly, and spoke aloud to him 
 self, after the manner of one who lives much alone. 
 
 "There s a nice young man yellow clear 
 through. Queer thing she could ever have fancied 
 him. But I don t know, either. He s a right good 
 looker, and has lots of cheek ; that goes a long way 
 with girls. Likely he was mighty careful before 
 her. And he d not been brought up against the 
 acid test, then." 
 
 His roving eyes took in with disgust the stains of 
 tobacco juice plastered all over the clean surface of 
 the rocks. 
 
 "I ll bet a doughnut she never knew he chewed. 
 Didn t know it myself till now. Well, a man lives 
 and learns. Buck Weaver told me he came on a 
 dead cow of his just after the rustlers had left. Fire 
 still smoldering. Tobacco stains still wet on the 
 
182 MAVERICKS 
 
 rocks. And one of the horses had a hind hoof 
 that left a blurred trail. Surely looks like Mr. Tom 
 Dixon is headed for the pen mighty fast." 
 
 He turned and strolled back to the house, smiling 
 to himself. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION 
 
 Breakfast finished, Weaver cast about for some 
 diversion to help him pass the time. 
 
 This room, alone of those he had seen in the 
 house, seemed to reflect something of the teacher s 
 dainty personality. There were some framed prints 
 on the walls cheap, but, on the whole, well se 
 lected. The rugs were in subdued brown tints that 
 matched well the pretty wall paper. To the cattle 
 man, it was pathetic that the girl had done so much 
 with such frugal means to her hand. For plainly 
 her meagre efforts were circumscribed by the purse 
 limitation. 
 
 Ranging over the few books in the stand, he se 
 lected a volume of verse by Markham, and, turning 
 the leaves aimlessly, chanced on "A Satyr Song." < 
 
 I know by the stir of the branches 
 
 The way she went; 
 And at times I can see where a stem 
 
 Of the grass is bent. 
 She s the secret and light of my life; 
 
 She allures to elude; 
 But I follow the spell of her beauty* 
 
 Whatever the mood. 
 
 183 
 
184 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Knows what he s talking about some poet, 
 that fellow," Buck cried aloud to himself, for it 
 seemed to him that the Calif ornian had put into 
 words his own feeling. He read on avidly, from 
 one poem to another, lost in his discovery. 
 
 It was perhaps an hour later that he came back 
 to a realization of a gnawing desire. He wanted a 
 pipe, and the need was an insistent one. It was of 
 no use to argue with himself. He surely had to 
 have one smoke. Longingly he fingered his pipe, 
 filled it casually with the loose tobacco in his coat 
 pocket, and balanced the pros and cons in his mind. 
 From behind the window curtain he examined the 
 plaza. 
 
 "Not a soul in sight. Don t believe there s a 
 man about the place. No risk at all, looks to me." 
 
 With that, he swept the match to a flame, and 
 lit the pipe. He sat close to the open window, so 
 that the smoke could drift out without his being 
 seen. 
 
 The experiment brought no disaster. He fin 
 ished his smoke undisturbed, and went back to read 
 ing. 
 
 The hours dragged slowly past. Noon came and 
 went; mid-afternoon was upon him. His watch 
 showed a few minutes past four when he decided 
 on another smoke. From the corner of his pocket 
 he raked the loose tobacco into the bowl of his pipe, 
 and pressed it down. Presently he was again puff 
 ing in pleasant serenity. 
 
MAVERICKS 185 
 
 Suddenly there came a blinding flash and a roar. 
 
 Buck started to his feet in amazement, the stem 
 of the pipe still in his mouth, the bowl shattered 
 into a hundred bits. His first thought was that he 
 had been the target for a sharpshooter. There was 
 a neat hole through the framework of the window 
 case, showing where the bullet had plowed. But an 
 investigation left him in the air; for the direction 
 of the bullet hole was such that, if anybody from 
 outside had fired it, he must have been up in a 
 balloon. 
 
 The explanation came to him like a flash. In 
 raking the tobacco into his pipe with his fingers, 
 he must have pressed into the bowl a stray cartridge 
 left some time in the pocket. This had gone off 
 after the heat had reached the powder. 
 
 By the time he had reached this conclusion some 
 one came running along the passage and tried the 
 locked door. After some rattling at the knob, the 
 footsteps retreated. Buck could hear excited voices. 
 
 "Coming back in force, I ll bet," he told himself, 
 with a dubious grin. 
 
 The fat was surely in the fire now. 
 
 Footsteps made themselves heard again, this 
 ftime in numbers. The door was tried cautiously. 
 A voice demanded admittance sharply. 
 
 Buck opened the door and gazed at the intruders 
 in mild surprise. Old Sanderson and Phil were 
 there, together with Slim and a cow-puncher known 
 as Cuffs. All of them were anned. 
 
186 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Want to come in, gentlemen?" Weaver asked. 
 
 "So you re here, are you?" spoke up Phil. 
 
 " That s right. I m here, sure enough." 
 
 "How long you been here ?" 
 
 "Been hanging round the place ever since my 
 escape. You kept so close a watch I couldn t make 
 my getaway. Some time the other side of noon I 
 drifted in here, figuring some of you would drive 
 me from cover by accident during the day if I 
 stayed out in the chaparral. This room looked 
 handy, so I made myself right at home and locked 
 the door. I hate to shoot up a lady s boudoir, but 
 looks like that s what I ve done." 
 
 "You durn fool! Who were you shooting at?" 
 Phil asked contemptuously. 
 
 But his father stepped forward, and with a cer 
 tain austere dignity, more menacing than threats, 
 took the words out of the mouth of his son. 
 
 "I think I ll negotiate this, Phil." 
 
 Buck explained the accident amiably, and re 
 lieved himself of the imputation of idiocy. "Serves 
 a man right for smoking without permission in a 
 lady s room," he admitted humorously. 
 
 A man came up the stairway two steps at a time, 
 panting as if he had been running. It was Keller. 
 
 That the cattleman must have been discovered, 
 he knew even before he saw him grinning round 
 on a circle of armed foes. Weaver nodded recog 
 nition, and Larrabie understood it to mean also 
 thanks for what he had done for him last night. 
 
MAVERICKS 187 
 
 "We ll talk this over downstairs," old Sanderson 
 announced grimly. 
 
 They went down into the big hall with the open 
 fireplace, and the old sheepman waved his hand 
 toward a chair. 
 
 "Thanks. Think I ll take it standing," said Buck, 
 an elbow on the mantel. 
 
 He understood fully his precarious situation; he 
 knew that these men had already condemned him 
 to death. The quiet repression they imposed on 
 themselves told him as much. But his gaze passed 
 calmly from one to another, without the least 
 shrinking. All of them save Keller and Phil were 
 unusually tall men as tall, almost, as he; but in 
 breadth of shoulder and depth of chest he dwarfed 
 them. They were grim, hard men, but not one so 
 grim and iron as he when he chose. 
 
 "Your life is forfeit, Buck Weaver," Sanderson 
 said, without delay. 
 
 "Made up your mind, have you?" 
 
 "Your own riders made it up for us when they 
 murdered poor Jesus Menendez." 
 
 "A bad break, that and me a prisoner here. 
 Some of the boys had been out on the range a week. 
 I reckon they didn t know I was the rat in your 
 trap." 
 
 "So much the worse for you." 
 
 "Looks like," Weaver nodded. Then he added, 
 almost carelessly: "I expect there wouldn t be any 
 
188 MAVERICKS 
 
 use mentioning the law to you? It s here to pun 
 ish the man that shot Menendez." 
 
 "Not a bit of use. You own the sheriff and half 
 the juries in this county. Besides, we ve got the 
 man right here that is responsible for the killing of 
 poor Jesus." 
 
 "Oh! If you look at it that way, of course -" 
 
 "That s the way to look at it. I don t blame your 
 riders any more than I blame the guns they fired. 
 You did that killing." 
 
 "Even though I was locked up on your ranch, 
 more than twenty miles away." 
 
 "That makes no difference." 
 
 "Seems to me it makes some," suggested Keller, 
 speaking for the first time. "His riders may have 
 acted contrary to orders. He surely did not give 
 any specific orders in this case." 
 
 "His actions for months past have been orders 
 enough," said Cuffs. 
 
 "You d better investigate before you take action," 
 Larrabie urged. 
 
 "We ve done all the investigating we re going to 
 do. This man has set himself up like a czar. I m 
 not going through the list of it all, but he has 
 more than reached the limit months ago. He s 
 passed it now. He s got to die, by gum," the old 
 sheepman said, his eyes like frozen stars. 
 
 "We all have to do that. Just when does my 
 time come?" Weaver asked. 
 
 "Now," cried Sanderson, with a bitter oath. 
 
MAVERICKS 189 
 
 Phil swallowed hard. He had grown white be 
 neath the tan. The thing they were about to do 
 seemed awful to him. 
 
 "Good God! You re not going to murder him, 
 are you?" protested Larrabie. 
 
 "He murdered poor Jesus Menendez, didn t he ?" 
 
 "You mean you re going to shoot him down in 
 cold blood?" 
 
 "What s the matter with hanging?" Slim asked 
 brutally. 
 
 "No," spoke up Keller quickly. 
 
 The old man nodded agreement "No they 
 didn t hang Menendez." 
 
 "Your sheep herder died if he died at all, and 
 we have no proof of it with a gun in his hands," 
 Larrabie said. 
 
 "That s right," admitted Phil quickly. "That s 
 right. We got to give him a chance." 
 
 "What sort of a chance would you like to give 
 him?" Sanderson asked of the boy. 
 
 "Let him fight for his life. Give him a gun, and 
 me one. We ll settle this for good and all." 
 
 The eyes of the old Confederate gleamed, though 
 Ihe negatived the idea promptly. 
 
 "That wouldn t be a square deal, Phil. He s our 
 prisoner, and he has killed one of our men. K 
 wouldn t be right for one of us to meet him on 
 even terms." 
 
 "Give me a gun, and I ll meet all of you !" cried 
 Weaver, eyes gleaming. 
 
190 MAVERICKS 
 
 "By God, you re on! That s a sporting prop 
 osition," Sanderson retorted promptly. "Lets us 
 out, too. I don t fancy killing in cold blood, my 
 self. Of course we ll get you, but you ll have a run 
 for your money first, by gum." 
 
 "Maybe you ll get me, and maybe you won t. Is 
 this little vendetta to be settled with revolvers, or 
 rifles?" 
 
 "Make it rifles," Phil suggested quickly. 
 
 There was always a chance that, if the battle 
 were fought at long range, the cattleman might 
 reach the hill canons in safety. 
 
 Keller was helpless. He lived in a man s world, 
 where each one fought for his own head and took 
 his own fighting chance. Weaver had proposed an 
 adjustment of the difficulty, and his enemies had ac 
 cepted his offer. Even if the Sandersons would 
 have tolerated further interference, the cattleman 
 would not. 
 
 Moreover Keller s hands were tied as to taking 
 sides. He could not fight by the side of the owner 
 of the Twin Star Ranch against the father and 
 brother of Phyllis. There was only one thing to 
 do, and that offered little hope. He slipped quietly 
 from the room and from the house, swung to the. 
 back of a horse he found saddled in the place and 
 galloped wildly down the road toward the school- 
 house. 
 
 Phyllis tiad much influence over her father. If 
 
MAVERICKS 191 
 
 she could reach the scene in time, she might pre 
 vent the duel. 
 
 His pony went up and down the hills as in a 
 moving-picture play. 
 
 Meanwhile terms of battle were arranged at 
 once, without haggling on either side. Weaver was 
 to have a repeating Winchester and a belt full of 
 cartridges, the others such weapons as they chose. 
 The duel was to start with two hundred and fifty 
 yards separating the combatants, but this distance 
 could be increased or diminished at will. Such cover 
 as was to be found might be used. 
 
 "Whatever s right suits me," the cattleman said. 
 "I can t say more than that you are doing hand 
 somely by me. I reckon I ll make that declaration 
 to some of your help, if you don t mind." 
 
 The horse wrangler and the Mexican waiter were 
 sent for, and to them the owner of the place ex 
 plained what was about to occur. Their eyes stuck 
 out, and their chins dropped, but neither of the two 
 had anything to say. 
 
 "We re telling you boys so you may know it s all 
 right. I proposed this thing. If I m shot, nobody 
 is to blame but myself. Understand?" Weaver 
 drove the idea home. 
 
 The wrangler got out an automatic "Sure," and 
 Manuel an amazed "Si, senor" upon which they 
 were promptly retired from the scene. 
 
 Having prepared and tested their weapons, the 
 parties to the difficulty repaired to the pasture. 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "I d like to try out this gun, if you don t mind. 
 It s a new proposition to me," the cattleman said. 
 
 "Go to it," nodded Slim, seating himself tailor- 
 fashion on the ground and rolling a cigarette. He 
 was a black, bilious-tempered fellow, but this par 
 ticular kind of gameness appealed to him. 
 
 Weaver glanced around, threw the rifle to his 
 shoolder, and fired immediately. A chicken, one 
 hundred and fifty yards away, fell over. 
 
 "Accidents will happen," suggested Slim. 
 
 "That accident happened through the neck, you ll 
 find," Weaver retorted calmly. 
 
 "Betcher." 
 
 Buck dropped another rooster. 
 
 "You ain t happy unless you re killing something 
 of ours," Slim grinned. "Well, if you re satisfied 
 with your gun, we ll go ahead and see how good 
 you are on humans." 
 
 They measured the distance, and Sanderson 
 called: "Are you ready?" 
 
 "I reckon," came back the answer. 
 
 The father gave the signal the explosion of a 
 revolver. Even as it flashed, Buck doubled up like 
 a jack rabbit and leaped for the shelter of a live 
 oak, some thirty yards distant. Four rifles spoke 
 almost at the same instant, so that between the first 
 and the last not a second intervened. One of 
 them cracked a second time. But the runner did 
 not stop until he reached the tree and dropped be 
 hind its spreading roots. 
 
MAVERICKS 193 
 
 "Hunt cover, boysp the father gave orders. 
 "Don t any of you expose yourself. We ll have to 
 outflank him, but we ll take our time about it." 
 
 He got this out in staccato jerks, the last part of 
 it not until all were for the moment safe. The 
 strange thing was that Weaver had not fired once 
 as they scurried for shelter, even though Phil s foot 
 had caught in a root and held him prisoner for an 
 instant while he freed it. But as they began cir 
 cling round him carefully, he fired first at one of 
 them and then at another. His shooting was close, 
 but not one of them was hit. Recalling the incident 
 of the chickens, this seemed odd. In Slim s phras 
 ing, he did not seem to be so good on "humans." 
 
 Behind his live oak, Buck was so well protected 
 that only a chance shot could reach him before his 
 enemies should outflank him. How long that would 
 have taken nobody ever found out ; for an interven 
 tion occurred in the form of a flying Diana, on 
 horseback, taking the low fence like a huntress. 
 
 It was Phyllis, hatless, her hair flying loose a 
 picture long to be remembered. Straight as an ar 
 row she rode for Weaver, flung herself from the 
 saddle, and ran forward to him, waving her 
 handkerchief as a signal to her people to cease 
 firing. 
 
 "Thank God, I m in time!" she cried, her voice 
 deep with feeling. Then, womanlike, she leaned 
 against the tree, and gave way to the emotion that 
 had been pent within her. 
 
194 MAVERICKS 
 
 Buck patted her shoulders with awkward tender 
 ness. 
 
 "Don t you ! Don t you !" he implored. 
 
 Her collapse lasted only a short time. She dried 
 her tears, and stilled her sobs. "I must see my 
 father," she said. 
 
 The old man was already hurrying forward, and 
 as he ran he called to his boys not to shoot. Phyl 
 would not move a single step of the way to meet 
 him, lest they take advantage of her absence to 
 keep up the firing. 
 
 "How under heaven did you get here?" Buck 
 asked her. 
 
 "Mr. Keller came to meet me. I took his horse, 
 and he is bringing the buggy. I heard firing, so I 
 cut straight across," she explained. 
 
 "You shouldn t have come. You might have been 
 hit." 
 
 She wrung her hands in distress. "It s terrible 
 terrible! Why will you do such things you and 
 them?" she finished, forgetting the careful gram 
 mar that becomes a schoolmarm. 
 
 Buck might have told her but he did not that 
 he had carefully avoided hitting any of her people ; 
 that he had determined not to do so even if he 
 should pay for his forbearance with his life. What 
 he did say was an apologetic explanation, which ex 
 plained nothing. 
 
 "We were settling a difference of opinion in the 
 old Arizona way, Miss Phyl" 
 
MAVERICKS 195 
 
 "In what way? By murdering my father?" she 
 asked sharply. 
 
 "He s covering ground right lively for a dead 
 one," Buck said dryly. 
 
 "I m speaking of your intentions. You can t 
 deny you would have done it." 
 
 "Anyhow, I haven t denied it." 
 
 Sanderson, almost breathless, reached them, 
 caught the girl by the shoulders, and shook her 
 angrily. 
 
 "What do you mean by it ? What are you doing 
 here? Goddlemighty, girl! Are you startc mad?" 
 
 "No, but I think all you people are." 
 
 "You ll march home to your room, and stay there 
 till I come." 
 
 "No, father." 
 
 "Yes, I say!" 
 
 "I must see you alone." 
 
 "You can see me afterward. We ll do no talking 
 till this business is finished." 
 
 "Why do you talk so? It won t be finished 
 it can t," she moaned. 
 
 "We ll attend to this without your help, my girl." 
 
 "You don t understand." Her voice fell to the 
 lowest murmur. "He came here for me." 
 
 "For you-all?" 
 
 "Oh, don t you see? He brought me back here 
 because he cared for me." A tide of shame 
 flushed her cheeks. Surely no girl had ever been so 
 cruelly circumstanced that she must tell such things 
 
196 MAVERICKS 
 
 before a lover, who had not declared himself ex 
 plicitly. 
 
 "Cared for you? As a wolf does for a lamb!" 
 
 "At first, maybe but not afterward. Don t you 
 see he was sorry? Everything shows that." 
 
 "And to show that he was sorry, he had poor 
 Jesus Menendez killed!" 
 
 "No he didn t know about that till I told him." 
 
 "Till you told him?" 
 
 "Yes. When I freed him and took him to my 
 
 room." 
 
 "So you freed him and took him to your 
 room?" She had never heard her father speak in 
 such a voice, so full at once of anger and incred 
 ulous horror. 
 
 "Don t look at me like that, father! Don t you 
 
 see can t you see Oh, why are you so cruel 
 
 to me ?" She buried her face in her forearm against 
 the rock. 
 
 Her father caught her arm so savagely that a 
 spasm of pain shot through her. "None of that! 
 Give me the truth. Now this instant!" 
 
 Anger at his injustice welled up in her. "You ve 
 had the truth. I knew of the attack on the sheep 
 cam p heard of it on the way home from school, 
 from Manuel. Do you think I ve lived with you 
 eighteen years for nothing? I knew what you 
 would do, and I tried to save you from yourself. 
 There was no place where he would be safe but in 
 
MAVERICKS 197 
 
 my room. I took him there, and slept with Anna. 
 I did right. I would do it again." 
 
 "Slept with Anna, did you?" 
 
 She felt again that furious tide of blood sv/eep 
 into her face. "Yes. From the time of the shoot- 
 ing." 
 
 "Goddlemighty, gyurl, I wisht you d keep out of 
 my business." 
 
 "And let you do murder?" 
 
 "Why did you save him? Because you love 
 him?" demanded Sanderson fiercely. 
 
 "Because I love you. But you re too blind to see 
 it." 
 
 "And him do you love him? Answer me!" 
 
 "No!" she flamed. "But if I did, I would be 
 loving a man. He wouldn t take odds of five to 
 one against an enemy." 
 
 Her father s great black eyes chiselled into hers. 
 "Are you lying to me, girl?" 
 
 Weaver spoke out quietly. "I expect / can an 
 swer that, Mr. Sanderson. Your daughter has 
 given me to understand that I m about as mean a 
 thing as God ever made." 
 
 But Phyl was beyond caution now. Her resent 
 ment against her father, for that he had forced her 
 to drag out the secret things of her heart and speak 
 of them in the presence of the man concerned, 
 boiled into words quick, eager, full of passion. 
 
 "I take it all back then every word of it!" she 
 
198 MAVERICKS 
 
 cried. "You are braver, kinder, more generous to 
 me than my own people more chivalrous. You 
 would have gone to your death without telling them 
 that I took you to my room. But my own father, 
 who has known me all my life, insults me grossly." 
 
 "I was wrong," Sanderson admitted uneasily. 
 
 Keller climbed the pasture fence, and came run 
 ning up at the same time as Phil and Slim. 
 
 "Menendez is alive!" he cried. "He is at the 
 Twin Star Ranch. The boys there are taking care 
 of him, and the doctor says he will pull through." 
 
 "Who told you?" 
 
 "Bob Tryon. I met him not five minutes ago. 
 He is on his way here." 
 
 This put a new face on things. If Menendez 
 were still alive, Weaver could be held to await de 
 velopments. Moreover, since the sheep herder was 
 a prisoner at the Twin Star Ranch, retaliation 
 would follow any measures taken against the cat 
 tleman. 
 
 Phyllis gave a glad little cry. "Then it s all right 
 now." 
 
 Weaver s face crinkled to a leathery grin. 
 
 Mighty unfortunate ain t it, boys? Puts a kind 
 
 3f a kink in our plans for the little entertainment 
 
 we were figuring on pulling off. But maybe you ve 
 
 a notion of still going on with it." 
 
 "If we don t, it won t be on your account, seh, I 
 don t reckon," Sanderson answered reluctantly. 
 
 But though he would not admit it, the old man 
 
MAVERICKS 199 
 
 was beginning to admire this big fellow, who could 
 afford to miss his enemies on purpose even in the 
 midst of a deadly duel. He was coming to a grudg 
 ing sense of quality in Weaver. The cattleman 
 might be many things that were evil, but undeniably 
 he possessed also those qualities which on the fron 
 tier count for more than civilized virtues. He was 
 game to the core. And he knew how to keep his 
 mouth shut at the right time, no matter what it 
 was going to cost him. On the whole Buck Weaver 
 would stand the acid test, the old soldier was com 
 ing to think. And because he did not want to be 
 lieve any good of his enemy, old Jim Sanderson, 
 when he was alone in the corral with the horses or 
 on a hillside driving his sheep, would shake his 
 gnarled fist impotently and swear fluently until his 
 surcharged feelings were relieved. 
 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE BRAND BLOTTER 
 
 Two riders followed the trail to Yeager s Spur 
 one a man, brown and forceful; the other a girl, 
 with sunshine in her dancing eyes and a voice full 
 of the lilt of laughter. What they might come to 
 be to each other both were already speculating about, 
 though neither knew as yet. They were the best of 
 friends good comrades, save when chance eyes said 
 unguardedly too much. For the girl that sufficed, 
 but it was not enough for the man. He knew that 
 he had found the one woman he wanted for his wife. 
 But Phyllis only wondered, let her thoughts rove 
 over many things. For instance, why queer throbs 
 and sudden shyness swept her soft young body. She 
 liked Larrabie Keller oh, so much ! but her untu 
 tored heart could not quite tell her whether she 
 loved him. His eyes drilled into her electric pul- 
 sations whenever they met hers. The youth in him 
 called to the youth in her. She admired him. He 
 stirred her imagination, and yet and yet 
 
 They rode through a valley of gold and russet, 
 all warm with yellow sunlight. In front of them, 
 
 200 
 
"DROP THAT QUN I 
 
 Pace 205 
 
MAVERICKS 201 
 
 the Spur projected from the hill ridge into the 
 mountain park. 
 
 "Then I think you re a cow-puncher looking for 
 a job, but not very anxious to find one," she was 
 hazarding, answering a question. 
 
 "No. That leaves you one more guess/ 
 
 "That forces me to believe that you are what you 
 say you are," she mocked; "just a plain, prosaic 
 homesteader." 
 
 She had often considered in her mind what busi 
 ness might be his, that could wait while he lingered 
 week after week and rode trail with the cowboys; 
 but it had not been the part of hospitality to ask 
 questions of her friend. This might seem to imply 
 a doubt, and of doubt she had none. To-day, he 
 himself had broached the subject. Having brought 
 it up, he now dropped it for the time. 
 
 He had shaded his eyes, and was gazing at some 
 thing that held his attention a little curl of smoke, 
 rising from the wash in front of them. 
 
 "What is it?" she asked, impatient that his mind 
 could so easily be diverted from her. 
 
 "That is what I m going to find out. Stay here !" 
 
 Rifle in hand, Keller slipped forward through the 
 brush. His imperative "Stay here!" annoyed her 
 just a little. She uncased her rifle, dropped from 
 the saddle as he had done, and followed him through 
 the cacti. Her stealthy advance did not take her far 
 before she came to the wash. 
 
 There Keller was standing, crouched like a 
 
202 MAVERICKS 
 
 panther ready for the spring, quite motionless and 
 silent watching now the bushes that fringed the 
 edge of the wash, and now the smoke spiral rising 
 faintly from the embers of a fire. 
 
 Slowly the man s tenseness relaxed. Evidently 
 he had made up his mind that death did not lurk 
 in the bushes, for he slid down into the wash and 
 stepped across to the fire. Phyllis started to follow 
 him, but at the first sound of slipping rubble her 
 friend had her covered. 
 
 "I told you not to come," he reproached, lowering 
 his rifle as soon as he recognized her. 
 
 "But I wanted to come. What is it? Why are 
 you so serious?" 
 
 His eyes were busy making an inventory of the 
 situation, his mind, too, was concentrated on the 
 thing before him. 
 
 "Do you think it is rustlers? Is that what you 
 mean?" she asked quickly. 
 
 "Wait a minute and I ll tell you what I think." 
 He finished making his observations and returned to 
 her. "First, I ll tell you something else, something 
 that nobody in the neighborhood knows but you and 
 Jim Yeager. I belong to the ranger force. Lieu 
 tenant O Connor sent me here to clean up this rust 
 ling that has been going on for several years." 
 
 "And a lot of the boys thought you were a rustler 
 yourself," she commented. 
 
 "So did one or two of the young ladies," he 
 smiled. "But that is not the business before this 
 
MAVERICKS 203 
 
 meeting. Because I m trained to it I notice things 
 you wouldn t. For instance, I saw a man the other 
 day with a horse whose hind hoof left a trail like 
 that" 
 
 He pointed to one, and then another track in the 
 t soft sand. "Maybe that might be a coincidence, but; 
 1 the owner of that horse had a habit of squirting to 
 bacco juice on clean rocks like that and that." 
 
 "That doesn t prove he has been rustling." 
 
 "No; but the signs here show he has been brand 
 ing, and Buck Weaver ran across these same marks 
 left by a waddy who surely was making free with a 
 Twin Star calf." 
 
 "How long has he been gone?" 
 
 "There were two of them, and they ve been gone 
 about twenty minutes." 
 
 "How do you know?" 
 
 He pointed to a stain of tobacco juice still moist. 
 
 "Who is he?" she asked. 
 
 He knew her stanch loyalty to her friends, and 
 Tom Dixon had been a friend till very lately. He 
 hesitated; then, without answering, made a second 
 thorough examination of the whole ground. 
 
 "Come if we have any luck, I ll show him to 
 f you," he said, returning to her. "But you must do 
 just as I say must be under my orders." 
 
 "I will," she promised. 
 
 Forthwith, they started. After they had ridden in 
 silence for some distance, covering ground fast, they 
 drew to a walk. 
 
204 MAVERICKS 
 
 "You know by the trail for where they were 
 heading," she suggested in a voice that was a ques 
 tion. 
 
 "I guessed." 
 
 Presently, at the entrance to a little canon, Kel 
 ler swung down and examined the ground carefully, 
 seemed satisfied, and rode with her into the gully. 
 But she noticed that now he went cautiously, eyes 
 narrowed and wary, with the hard face and the look 
 of a coiled spring she had seen on him before. Her 
 heart drummed with excitement. She was not 
 afraid, but she was fearfully alive. 
 
 At the other entrance to the canon, Larrabie was 
 down again for another examination. What he 
 seemed to find gave him pleasure. 
 
 "They ve separated," he told Phyllis. "We ll give 
 our attention to the gentleman with the calf, and 
 let his friend go, to-day." 
 
 They swung sharply to the north, taking a pre 
 cipitous trail of shale that Phyllis judged to be a 
 short cut. It was rough going, but their mountain 
 ponies were good for anything less than a perpen 
 dicular wall. They clambered up and down like cats, 
 as sure-footed as wild goats. 
 
 At the summit of the ridge, Keller pointed out 
 something in the valley below a rider on horse 
 back, driving a calf. 
 
 "There goes Mr. Waddy, as big as coffee/ 
 
 "He s going to swing round the point. You mean 
 to drop down the hill and cut him off?" 
 
MAVERICKS 205 
 
 "That s the plan. Better do no more talking after 
 we pass that live oak. See that little wash ? We ll 
 drop into it, and hide among the cottonwoods." 
 
 The rustler was pushing along hurriedly, driving 
 the calf at a trot, half the time twisted in the saddle, 
 with anxious eyes to the rear. Revolvers and a rifle 
 garnished him, but quite plainly they gave him no 
 sense of safety. 
 
 When the summons came to him to "Drop that 
 gun !" it was only a confirmation of his fears. Yet 
 he jumped as a boy jumps under the unexpected 
 cut of a cane. 
 
 The rifle went clattering to the stony trail. With 
 out being ordered to do so, the hands of the waddy 
 were thrust skyward. 
 
 "Why, it s Tom Dixon ! We ve made a mistake," 
 Phyllis discovered, and moved forward from her 
 hiding place. 
 
 "We ve made no mistake. I told you I d show 
 you the rustler, and I ve shown him to you," Keller 
 answered, as he too stepped forward. And to 
 Tom, whose hands dropped at sight of Phyllis: 
 "Better keep them reaching till I get those guns. 
 That s right. Now, you may light." 
 
 "What s got into you?" demanded Dixon, his 
 teeth still chattering. "Holding up a man for 
 nothing. Take away that gun you got bent on 
 me!" 
 
 "You re under arrest for rustling, seh," the cattle 
 detective told him sternly. 
 
206 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Prove it. Prove it!" Dixon swung from the 
 saddle, and faced the other doggedly. 
 
 "That calf you re driving now is rustled. You 
 branded it less than two hours ago in Spring Valley, 
 right by the three cottonwoods below the trail to 
 Yeager s Spur." 
 
 "How do you know?" cried the startled youth. 
 And on the heels of that : "It s a lie !" He was get 
 ting a better grip on his courage. He spat defiantly 
 a splash of tobacco juice on a flat pebble which his 
 eye found. "No such thing ! This calf was a mav 
 erick. Ask Phyl. She ll tell you I m no rustler." 
 
 Phyllis said nothing. Her gaze was very steadily 
 on Tom. 
 
 Keller pointed to the evidence which the hoof of 
 the horse had printed on the trail, and to that which 
 the man had written on the pebble. "We found both 
 these signs once before. They were left by one of 
 the rustlers operating in this vicinity. That time it 
 was a Twin Star brand you blotted. You ve done 
 a poor job, for I can see there has been another 
 brand there. Your partner left you with the cow 
 at the entrance to the canon. Caught red-handed as 
 you have been driving the calf to your place, you ll 
 find all this aggregates evidence enough to send 
 you to the penitentiary. Buck Weaver will attend 
 to that." 
 
 "It s a conspiracy. You and him mean to rail 
 road me through," Tom charged sullenly. "I tell 
 you, Phyllis knows I m no rustler." 
 
MAVERICKS 207 
 
 "I ve known you were one ever since the day you 
 wanted to go back and tell where Weaver was hid 
 den. You and your pony scattered the evidence 
 around then, just as you re doing here," the ranger 
 answered. 
 
 "You ve got it cooked up to put me through, 
 Dixon insisted desperately. "You want to get me 
 out of the way, so you ll have a clear track with 
 Phyl. Think I don t sabe your game?" 
 
 The angry color sucked into Keller s face beneath 
 the tan. He avoided looking at Phyllis. "We ll 
 not discuss that, seh. But I can say that kind of 
 talk won t help buy you anything." 
 
 The girl looked at Dixon in silent contempt. She 
 was very angry, so that for the moment her embar 
 rassment was swamped. But she did not choose 
 to dignify his spleen by replying to it. 
 
 There was no iron in Dixon s make-up. When 
 he saw that this attack had reacted against him, he 
 tried whining. 
 
 "Honest, you re wrong about this calf, Mr. Kel 
 ler. I don t say, mind you, it ain t a rustled calf. 
 It may be ; but I don t know it if it is. Maybe the 
 rustlers were scared off just before I happened on 
 it." 
 
 "We ll see how a jury looks at that. You re go 
 ing to get the chance to tell that story to one, I ex 
 pect," Larrabie remarked dryly. 
 
 "Pass it up this time, and I ll get out of the coun 
 try," the youth promised. 
 
208 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Take care! Whatever you say will be used 
 against you." 
 
 "Suppose I did rustle one of Buck Weaver s 
 calves mind, I don t say I did but say I did? 
 Didn t he bust my father up in business? Ain t he 
 aiming to do the same by your folks, Phyl?" He 
 was almost ready to cry. 
 
 The girl turned her head aside, and spoke in a 
 low voice to Keller. She was greatly angered and 
 disgusted at Tom; but she had been his friend, and 
 on this occasion there had been some justification for 
 him in the wrong the cattleman had done his family. 
 
 "Do you have to report him and have him prose 
 cuted?" 
 
 "I m paid to stop the rustling that has been going 
 on," answered Keller, in the same undertone. 
 
 "He won t do it again. He has had his scare. It 
 will last him a lifetime." Even while she promised 
 it for him, it was not without contempt for the poor- 
 spirited craven who could be so easily driven from 
 his evil ways. If a man must do wrong, let it be 
 boldly as Buck Weaver did it. 
 
 "Yes, but his pals haven t had theirs." 
 
 "But you don t know them." 
 
 "I can guess one man in it with him. We ve got 
 to root the thing out." 
 
 "Why not serve warning on him by Tom ? Then 
 they would both clear out." 
 
 Dixon divined that she was pleading for him, 
 
MAVERICKS 209 
 
 and edged in another word for himself. "Whatever 
 wrong I ve done Fve been driven to. There s been 
 an older man to lead me into it, too." 
 
 "You mean Red Hughes ?" Keller said sharply. 
 
 Tom hesitated. He had not got to the point of 
 betraying his accomplice. "I ain t saying who I 
 mean. Nor, for that matter, I ain t admitting I ve 
 done any particular wrong no more than other 
 young fellows." 
 
 Keller brought him sharply to time. "You ve 
 used your last wet blanket. I ve got the evidence 
 that will put you behind the bars. Miss Phyllis 
 wants me to let you off. I can t do it unless you 
 make a clean breast of it. You ll either come 
 through with what I want to know, and do as I say, 
 or you ll have to stand the gaff." 
 
 "What do you want to know ?" 
 
 "How many pals had you in this rustling?" 
 
 "You said you would use against me anything I 
 said." 
 
 "I say now I ll use it for you if you tell the truth 
 and meet my conditions." 
 
 "What are your conditions?" 
 
 "Never mind. You ll learn them later. Answer 
 my question. How many?" 
 
 "One" very sullenly. 
 
 "Red Hughes ?" 
 
 "That s the one thing I can t tell you," the lad 
 cried. "Don t you see I can t?" 
 
210 MAVERICKS 
 
 "It s the one thing I don t need to know. I ve 
 got Red cinched about as tight as you, my boy. How 
 long has this been going on?" 
 
 The information came from Dixon as reluctantly 
 as a tight cork comes from a bottle. "Nearly a 
 year." 
 
 Sharp, incisive questions followed, one after an 
 other; and at the end of the quiz Tom was pumped 
 nearly dry. Those who heard his confession lis 
 tened to the story of how and why he had first 
 started rustling the tale of each exploit, the loca 
 tion of the mountain cache where the calves had been 
 driven, even the name of the Mexican buyer who 
 once had come across the line to receive a bunch of 
 stolen cattle. 
 
 Keller laid down his conditions. "You ll go to 
 Red muy pronto, and tell him he s got thirty-six 
 hours to get across the line. He and you will go 
 to Sonora, and you ll stay there. We ve got you 
 dead to rights. Show up in this country again, and 
 you ll both go to Yuma. Understand?" 
 
 Tom understood well enough. He writhed un 
 der it, but he was up against the need of surrender. 
 Sullenly he waited until the other had laid down 
 the law, then asked for his weapons. Keller emptied 
 the chambers of the cartridges, and returned the re 
 volvers, looking also to the magazine of the rifle 
 before he handed it back. Without a word, with 
 out even a nod or a glance, Dixon rode out of the 
 gulch. 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 The eyes of the remaining two met, and became 
 tangled at once. Hastily both pairs withdrew. 
 
 "We ll have to drive the calf back, won t we?" 
 said Phyllis, seizing on the first irrelevant thing that 
 occurred to say. 
 
 "Yes as far as Tryon s." 
 
 Presently she said : "Do you think they will leave 
 the country?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 Her glance swept him in surprise. "Then why 
 did you let him go so easily?" 
 
 He smiled. "Didn t you ask me to let him off?" 
 
 "Yes; but " How could she explain that by 
 
 lapsing from his duty so far, even at her request, 
 he had disappointed her! 
 
 "No, ma am! I m a false alarm. It wasn t out 
 of gallantry I unroped him. Shall I tell you why it 
 was? I kept naming Red as his partner. But 
 Hughes ain t in this. He has been in Sonora for a 
 year. When Tom goes back all worried and tells 
 what has happened to him, the gentleman who is the 
 brains for the outfit is going to be right pleased I m 
 following a false trail. That s liable to make him 
 more careless. If we had had the evidence to cinch 
 Dixon it would have been different. But a roan 
 calf is a roan calf. I don t expect the owner could 
 swear to it, even if we knew who he was. So I 
 made my little play and let him go." 
 
 "And I thought all the time you were doing it 
 for me," she laughed, and on the heels of it made 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 her little confession: "And I was blaming you for 
 giving way." 
 
 "I ll know now that the way to please you is not 
 to do what you want me to do/ 
 
 "You know a lot about girls, don t you?" she 
 mocked. 
 
 "Me, I m a wiz," he agreed with her derision. 
 
 Keller spoke absently, considering whether this 
 might be the propitious moment to try his luck. 
 They had been comrades together in an adventure 
 well concluded. Both were thinking of what Dixon 
 had said. It seemed to Larrabie that it would be a 
 wonderful thing if they might ride back through 
 the warm sunlight with this new miracle of her love 
 in his life. It was at the meeting of their fingers, 
 when he gave her the bridle, that he spoke. 
 
 "I ve got to say it, Miss Phyllis. I ve got to know 
 where I stand." 
 
 She understood him of course. The touch of 
 their eyes had warmed her even before he began. 
 But "Stand how?" she repeated feebly. 
 
 "With you. I love you! We both know that. 
 What about you ? Could you care for me ? Do you ?" 
 
 Her shy, deep eyes met his fairly. "I don t know. 
 Sometimes I think I do, and then sometimes I think 
 I don t that way." 
 
 The touch of affection that made his face occasion 
 ally tender as a woman s, lit his warm smile. 
 
 "Couldn t you make that first sometimes always, 
 don t you reckon, Phyllis?" 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "Ah! If I knew! But I don t truly, I don t. 
 I I want to care," she confessed, with divine shy 
 ness. 
 
 "That s good listening. Couldn t you go ahead 
 on those times you do, honey?" 
 
 "No!" She drew back from his advance. "No 
 give me time. I m I m not sure I m not at all 
 sure. I can t explain, but " 
 
 "Can t decide between me and another man?" he 
 suggested, by way of a joke, to lighten her objec 
 tion. 
 
 Then, in a flash, he knew that by accident he had 
 hit the truth. The startled look of doubt in her 
 eyes told him. Perhaps she had not known it her 
 self before, but his words had clarified her mind. 
 There was another man in the running one not to 
 be thrust aside easily. 
 
 Phyllis first impulse was to be alone. She turned 
 her face away and busied herself with a stirrup 
 leather. 
 
 "Don t say anything more now please. I m such 
 a little goose ! I don t know yet. Won t you wait 
 and forget it till say, till next week?" 
 
 He promised to wait, but he did not promise to 
 forget it. As they rode home, he made cheerful talk 
 on many subjects; but the one in both their minds 
 was that which had been banned. Every silence 
 was full charged with it. Its suppression ran like 
 quicksilver through every spoken sentence. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A WATERSPOUT 
 
 Almost imperceptibly, Buck Weaver s relation to 
 his jailers changed. It was still understood that their 
 interests differed, but the personal bitterness was 
 largely gone. He went riding occasionally with the 
 boys, rather as a guest than as a prisoner. 
 
 At any time he might have escaped, but for a tacit 
 understanding that he would stay until Menendez 
 was strong enough to be sent home from the Twin 
 Star. 
 
 One pleasure, however, was denied him. He saw 
 nothing of Phyllis, save for a distant glimpse or 
 two when she was starting to school or returning 
 from a ride with Larrabie Keller. He knew that 
 her father and her brother were studiously eliminat 
 ing him, so far as she was concerned. Certain events 
 had been of a nature to induce whispered gossip. 
 Fortunately, such gossip had been nipped in the bud. 
 They intended that there should be no revival of it. 
 
 Weaver had sent word to the riders of the Twin 
 Star that there was to be nothing doing in the matter 
 of the feud until his return. 
 
MAVERICKS 215 
 
 He had at the same time ordered from them a 
 change of linen, a box of his favorite cigars, and 
 certain papers to be found in his desk. These in due 
 time were delivered by Jesus Menendez in person, 
 together with a note from the ranch. 
 
 TWIN STAR RANCH, Tuesday Morning. 
 DERE BUCK : You ve sure got us up in the air. 
 The boys was figurring some on rounding up the 
 whole Seven Mile outfit in a big drive, but looks like 
 you got other notions. Wise us if you want the co 
 operation of 
 
 PESKY and the other boys. 
 
 With a smile, Weaver showed it to Phil. "Shall 
 I send word to the boys to start on the round 
 up?" 
 
 "It won t be necessary. You don t need their co 
 operation. Fact is, now Menendez is back, you re 
 free to go. Rastus is getting your horse right 
 
 now." 
 
 The cattleman realized instantly that he did not 
 want to go. Business affairs at home pressed for 
 his attention, but he felt extremely reluctant to pull 
 out and leave the field in possession of Larrabie 
 Keller, even temporarily. He could not, however, 
 verj well say so. 
 
 "Good enough," he said brusquely. "Before I go, 
 we d better settle the matter of the range. Send 
 for your father, and I ll make him a proposition that 
 looks fair to me." 
 
216 MAVERICKS 
 
 When Sanderson arrived, he found the cattleman 
 with a map of the county spread before him upon 
 the table. With a pencil he divided the range in a 
 zigzag, twisting line. 
 
 "How about that? I ll take all on the valley side. 
 You take what is in the hills and the parks." 
 
 Sanderson looked at him in astonishment. "That s 
 all we ve been contending for!" 
 
 Buck nodded. "Since you get what you want, you 
 ought to be satisfied," he said gruffly. "Of course, 
 there will have to be some give-and-take about this. 
 My cattle will cross the line. So will yours. That 
 can t be helped. I ve worked out this problem of 
 the range feed pretty thoroughly. My territory will 
 feed just about as many as yours. Each year we 
 can arrange together to keep the number of cattle 
 down." 
 
 Under his shaggy brows, Sanderson looked at 
 him in perplexity. The proposition was more than 
 generous. It meant that Weaver would have to sell 
 off about a thousand head of cattle, while the hill- 
 men, on the other hand, could increase their hold 
 ings. 
 
 "What about sheep?" the old man asked bluntly. 
 
 Buck s stony gaze met his steadily. "I m going 
 to leave those sheep on your conscience, Mr. San 
 derson. You ll have to settle that matter for your 
 self." 
 
 "You mean you ll not stand in the way, if I want 
 to keep them?" 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "That s what I mean. It s up to you." 
 
 Phil, who was sitting on the porch sewing on a 
 pair of leather chaps, indulged in a grin. "I see 
 this is where we go out of the sheep business," he 
 said. 
 
 "The market s good. I don t know but what it 
 would be the right thing to sell," his father agreed. 
 "I want to meet you halfway in settling this trouble, 
 Mr. Weaver." 
 
 The matter was discussed further at some length, 
 after which the cattleman shook hands all round and 
 departed. Out of the tail of his eye he saw Keller 
 saddling a horse at the stables. 
 
 "Think I ll beat you out of that ride with the 
 schoolmarm to-day, my friend. A steady diet of 
 rides like that is liable to intoxicate a man," he told 
 himself, with his grim smile. In plain sight of all, 
 he turned the head of his horse toward the road that 
 led to the schoolhouse. 
 
 Presently he met pupils galloping home, calling 
 to each other joyously as they rode. Others fol 
 lowed more sedately in buggies. Nearer the school- 
 house he came on one walking. 
 
 After Phyllis had looked over some papers, made 
 up her weekly report, and outlined on the board work 
 for next day, she saddled her pony and set out home 
 ward. Not in ten years had the country been so 
 green and lovely as it was now. There had been 
 many winter snows and spring rains, so that the 
 alfilaria covered the hills with a carpet of grass. 
 
S18 MAVERICKS 
 
 Muddy little rivulets, pouring down arroyos on their 
 way from the mountains, showed that there had been 
 recent rains. These all ran into the Del Oro, a 
 creek which was dry in summer but was now full 
 to its banks. 
 
 She followed the river into the canon of the sam-r 
 name, a narrow gulch with sheer precipitous walls. 
 So much water was in the river that the trail along 
 the bank scarce gave the pony footing. Half a mile 
 from the point where she had entered the Del Oro 
 the trail crept up the wall and escaped to the mesa 
 above. Phyllis was nearing the ascent when a sound 
 startled her. She swung round in her saddle, to see 
 a wall of water roaring down the lane with the leap 
 of some terrible wild beast. Somewhere in the hills 
 there had been a waterspout. 
 
 She called upon her pony with spur and voice, 
 racing desperately for the place where the trail rose. 
 Of that wild dash for life she remembered nothing 
 afterward save the overmastering sense of peril. 
 She knew that the roan was pounding forward with 
 the best speed in him, and presently she knew too 
 that no speed could save her. The roar of the ad 
 vancing water grew louder as it swept upon her. 
 With a cry of terror she dragged the pony to its 
 haunches, slipped from the saddle, and attempted to* 
 climb the rock face. 
 
 Catching hold of outcropping ledges, mesquit, and 
 even cactus bushes, she went up like a mountain 
 goat. But the water swept upon her, waist high, 
 
MAVERICKS 219 
 
 and dragged at her. She clung to a quartz knob 
 her fingers had found, but her feet were swept from 
 her by the suction of the torrent. Her hold re 
 laxed, and she slid back into the river. 
 
 Like a flash of light a rope descended over her 
 outstretched arms, tightened at her waist, and held 
 her taut. She felt the pain of a tremendous tug th?.t 
 seemed to tear her in two. Dimly her brain re 
 ported that somebody was shouting. A long time 
 afterward, as it seemed to her then, a strong arm 
 went round her. Inch by inch she was dragged from 
 the water that fought and wrestled for her. Phyllis 
 knew that her rescuer was working up the cliff wall 
 with her. Then her perceptions blurred. 
 
 "I ll never make it this way," he told himself 
 aloud, half way up. 
 
 In fact, he had come to an impasse. Even with 
 out the burden of her weight, the sheer smooth wall 
 rose insurmountable above him. He did the one 
 thing left for him to do. Leaving her unconscious 
 body in a sort of trough formed by the juncture of 
 two strata, he lowered himself into the rushing 
 stream, searched with his foot for a grip, and swung 
 to the left into the niche formed by a mesquit bush 
 growing from the rock. From here, after stiff climb 
 ing, he reached the top. 
 
 He found, as he had expected, his cow pony with 
 feet braced to keep the rope taut. Old Baldy was 
 practising the lesson learned from scores of roped 
 steers. No man in the Malpais country was stronger 
 
220 MAVERICKS 
 
 than this one. In another minute he had drawn up 
 the girl and laid her on the grass. 
 
 Soon she opened her eyes and looked into his 
 troubled face. 
 
 "Mr. Weaver," she breathed in faint surprise. 
 "Where am I?" 
 
 But her glances were already answering the ques 
 tion. They took in the rope under her arms, fol 
 lowed it to the horn of the saddle, around which 
 the other end was tied, and came back to the leath 
 ery weather-beaten face that looked down into hers. 
 
 "You have saved my life." 
 
 "Not me. Old Baldy did it. I never could have 
 got you out alone. When I roped you, he backed off 
 same as if you had been a steer, and pulled for all 
 there was in him. Between us we got you up." 
 
 "Good old Baldy!" She let it go at that for the 
 moment, while she thought it out. "If you hadn t 
 
 been right here " She finished her sentence with 
 
 a shudder. 
 
 She could not guess how that thought stabbed 
 him, for he replied cheerfully: "I heard you call, 
 and Baldy brought me on the jump." 
 
 Phyllis covered her face with her hands. She 
 was badly shaken and could not quite control her 
 self. "It was awful awful." And short staccato 
 sobs shook her. 
 
 Buck put his arm around her shoulders, and 
 soothed her gently. "Don t you care, Phyllis. It s 
 all past now. Forget it, little girl." 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "It was like some tremendous wild beast a thou 
 sand times stronger and crueller than a grizzly. It 
 leaped at me, and Oh, if you hadn t been here !" 
 
 She caught at his sleeve and clung to it with both 
 hands. 
 
 "If a fellow sticks around long enough he is sure 
 to come in handy/ Buck told her lightly. 
 
 She did not answer, but presently she walked 
 across a little unsteadily and put her arms around the 
 neck of the white-faced broncho. Her face she 
 buried in its mane. Weaver knew she was crying 
 softly, and he wisely left her alone while he recoiled 
 the rope. 
 
 Presently she recovered her composure and began 
 to pat the white silken nose of the pony. 
 
 "You helped him to save my life, Baldy. Even he 
 couldn t have done it without you. How can I ever 
 pay you for it?" 
 
 Weaver had an inspiration. "He s yours from 
 this moment. You can pay him by taking him for 
 your saddle horse. Baldy will never ride the round 
 up again. We ll give him a Carnegie medal and re 
 tire him on a good-service pension so far as the 
 rough work goes." 
 
 Without looking at him, the girl answered softly : 
 "Thank you. I know I m taking from you the best 
 cow-pony in Arizona, but I can t help it." 
 
 "A cow-pony is a cow-pony, but a horse that saves 
 the life of Miss Phyllis Sanderson is a gentleman 
 and a hero." 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "And what about the man who saves her life?" 
 Her voice was very small and weepy. 
 
 "Tickled to death to have the chance. Well for 
 get that." 
 
 Still she did not look at him. "Never ! Never as 
 long as I live/ she cried vehemently. 
 
 It came to him that if he was ever going to put 
 his fortune to the test now was the time. He strode 
 across and swung her round till she faced him. 
 
 "As long as you live, Phyllis. And you re only 
 eighteen. Me, I m thirty-seven. I lack just a year 
 of being twice as old. What about it? Am I too 
 old and too hard and tough for you, little girl?" 
 
 "I don t understand." 
 
 "Yes, you do. I m asking you to marry me. Will 
 you?" 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Weaver !" she gasped. 
 
 "I ought to wrap it up pretty, oughtn t I? But 
 there s nothing pretty about me. No woman should 
 marry me if she can help it, not unless her heart 
 brings her to me in spite of herself. Is it that way 
 with you?" 
 
 Never before had she met a man like him, so mas 
 terful and virile. He took short cuts as if he did not 
 notice the "No Trespassing" sign. She read in him 
 a passion clamped by a will of iron, and there thrilled 
 through her a fierce delight in her power over this 
 splendid type of the male lover. She lived in a 
 world of men, lean, wide-shouldered fellows, who 
 moved and had their being in conditions that made 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 hickory withes of them physically, hard close- 
 mouthed citizens mentally. But even by the fron 
 tier tests of efficiency, of gameness, of going the 
 limit, Weaver stood head and shoulders above his 
 neighbors. She had lifted her gaze to meet his, quite 
 sure that her answer was not in doubt, but now her 
 heart was beating like a triphammer. She felt her 
 self drifting from her moorings. It was as though 
 she were drowning forty fathoms deep in those calm, 
 unwinking eyes of his. 
 
 "I dont think so," she cried desperately. 
 
 "You ve got to be sure. I don t want you else/* 
 
 "Yes yes!" she cried eagerly. "Don t rush me." 
 
 "Take all the time you need. You can t be any too 
 sure to suit me." 
 
 "I I don t think it will be yes," she told him 
 shyly. 
 
 "I m betting it will," he said confidently. "And 
 now, little girl, it s time we started. You ll ride 
 your Carnegie horse and I ll walk." 
 
 Her eyes dilated, for this brought to her mind 
 something she had forgotten. "My roan ! What do 
 you think has become of it?" 
 
 He shook his head, preferring not to guess aloud. 
 As he helped her to the saddle his eyes fell on a 
 stain of red running from the wrist of her gauntlet. 
 
 "You ve hurt your hand," he cried. 
 
 "It must have been when I caught at the cactus." 
 
 Gently he slipped off the glove. Cruel thorns had 
 torn the skin in a dozen places. He drew the little 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 spikes out one by one. Phyllis winced, but did not 
 cry out. After he had removed the last of them he 
 tied her handkerchief neatly round the wounds and 
 drew on the gauntlet again. It had been only a 
 small service, nothing at all compared to the great 
 one he had just rendered, but somehow it had tight 
 ened his hold on her. She wondered whether she 
 would have to marry Buck Weaver no matter what 
 she really wanted to do. 
 
 With her left hand she guided Baldy, while Buck 
 strode beside, never wavering from the easy, power 
 ful stride that was the expression of his sinuous 
 strength. 
 
 "Were you ever tired in your life?" she asked 
 once, with a little sigh of fatigue. 
 
 He stopped in his stride, full of self-reproach. 
 "Now, ain t that like me! Pluggin ahead, and 
 never thinking about how played out you are. We ll 
 rest here under these cottonwoods." 
 
 He lifted her down, for she was already very stiff 
 and sore from her adventure. An outdoor life had 
 given her a supple strength and a wiry endurance, of 
 which her slender frame furnished no indication, but 
 the reaction from the strain was upon her. To Buck 
 she looked pathetically wan and exhausted. He put 
 her down under a tree and arranged her saddle for a 
 pillow. Again the girl felt a net was being wound 
 round her, that she belonged to him and could not 
 escape. Nor was she sure that she wanted to get 
 away from his possessive energy. In the pleasant 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 sun glow she fell asleep, without any intention of 
 doing so. Two hours later she opened her eyes. 
 
 Looking round, she saw Weaver lying flat on his 
 back fifty yards away. 
 
 "I ve been asleep," she called. 
 
 He leaped to his feet and walked across the sand 
 to her. 
 
 "I suspected it," he said with a smile. 
 
 "I feel like a new woman now/ 
 
 "Like one of them suffragettes?" 
 
 "That isn t quite what I meant," she smiled. "Fra 
 ready to start." 
 
 Half an hour later they reached her home. It 
 was dese to supper time, but Weaver would not 
 stay. 
 
 "See you next week," he said quietly, and turned 
 his horse toward the Twin Star ranch. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE HOLD-UP 
 
 f 
 
 From the wash where the sink of the Mimbres 
 edges close to Noches two riders emerged in mid- 
 afternoon of a day that shimmered under the heat 
 of a blazing sun. They travelled in silence, the 
 core of an alkali dust cloud that moved with them 
 and lay thick upon them. Well down over their 
 eyes were drawn the broad-rimmed hats. One of 
 them wore sun goggles .and both of them had their 
 lower faces covered by silk bandannas as if to keep 
 out the thick dust their ponies stirred. For the rest 
 their costumes were the undistinguished chaps, spurs, 
 shirt, neckerchiefs, and gauntlets of the range. 
 
 With one distinction, however : these were better 
 armed than the average cow-puncher jaunting to 
 town for the quarterly spree. Revolver butts peeped 
 from the holsters of their loosely hung cartridge 
 belts. Moreover, their rifles were not strapped be 
 neath the stirrup leathers, but were carried across 
 the pommels of the saddles. 
 
 The bell in the town hall announced three o clock 
 as they reached the First National Bank at the cor 
 ner of San Miguel and Main Streets. Here one of 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 the riders swung from the saddle, handed the reins 
 and his rifle to the other man, and jingled into the 
 bank. His companion took the horses round to the 
 side entrance of the building, and waited there in 
 such shade as two live oaks offered. 
 
 He had scarce drawn rein when two other riders 
 joined him, having come from a direction at right 
 angles to that followed by him. One of them rode 
 an iron-gray, the other a roan with white stockings. 
 Both of these dismounted, and one of them passed 
 through the side door into the bank. Almost in 
 stantly he reappeared and nodded to his comrade, 
 who joined him with his own rifle and that of the 
 first man that had gone in. 
 
 There was an odd similarity in arms, manner, and 
 dress between these and the first arrivals. Once in 
 side the building, each of them slipped a black mask 
 over his face. Then one stepped quickly to the front 
 door and closed and locked it, while the other simul 
 taneously covered the teller with a revolver. 
 
 The cashier, busy in conversation with the first 
 horseman about a loan the other had said he wanted, 
 was sitting with his back to the cage of the teller. 
 The first warning he had of anything unusual was 
 the closing of the door by a masked man. One 
 glance was enough to tell him the bank was about 
 to be robbed. 
 
 His hand moved swiftly toward the drawer in his 
 desk which contained a weapon, but stopped halfway 
 to its destination. For he was looking squarely 
 
228 MAVERICKS 
 
 into the rim of a six-shooter less than a foot from 
 his forehead. The gun was in the hands of the client 
 with whom he had been talking. 
 
 "Don t do that," the man advised him brusquely. 
 Then, more sharply: "Reach for the roof. No 
 monkeying." 
 
 Benson, the cashier, was no coward, but neither 
 was he a fool. He knew when not to take a chance. 
 Promptly his arms shot up. But even while he 
 obeyed, his eyes were carrying to his brain a classi 
 fication of this man for future identification. The 
 bandit was a stranger to him, a heavy-set, bandy 
 legged fellow of about forty-five, with a leathery 
 face and eyes as stony as those of a snake. 
 
 "What do you want?" the bank officer asked 
 quietly. 
 
 "Your gold and notes. Is the safe open ?" 
 
 Before the cashier could reply a shot rang out. 
 The unmasked outlaw slewed his head, to see the 
 president of the bank firing from the door of his 
 private office. The other two robbers were already 
 pumping lead at him. He staggered, clutched at the 
 door jamb, and slowly sank to the floor after the re 
 volver had dropped from his hand. 
 
 Benson seized the opportunity to duck behind his 
 desk and drag open a drawer, but before his fingers 
 had closed on the weapon within, two crashing blows 
 descended with stunning force on his head. The 
 outlaw covering him had reversed his heavy re 
 volver and clubbed him with the butt. 
 
MAVERICKS 229 
 
 "That ll hold him for a while," the bandit re 
 marked, and dragged the unconscious man across the 
 floor to where the president lay huddled. 
 
 One of the masked men, a lithe, sinuous fellow 
 with a polka-dot bandanna round his neck, took 
 command. 
 
 "Keep these men covered, Irwin, while we get the 
 loot," he ordered the unmasked man. 
 
 With that he and the boyish-looking fellow who 
 had ridden into town with him, the latter carrying 
 three empty sacks, followed the trembling teller to 
 the vault. 
 
 No sound broke the dead silence except the loud 
 ticking of the bank clock and an occasional groan 
 from the cashier, who was just beginning to 
 return to consciousness. Twice the man left 
 on guard called down to those in the vault to 
 hurry. 
 
 There was need of haste. Somebody, attracted 
 by the sound of firing, had come running to the 
 bank, peered in the big front window, and gone fly 
 ing to spread the alarm. 
 
 Outside a shot and then another shattered the sul 
 try stillness of the day. The man left on guard ran 
 to the door and looked out. An upper window 
 down the street was open, and from it a man with a 
 rifle was firing at the outlaw left in charge of the 
 horses. 
 
 The wrangler had taken refuge behind a bulwark 
 of horseflesh, and was returning the fire. 
 
230 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Hurry the boys, Brad ! Hell s broke loose !" he 
 called to his companion. 
 
 The town was alarmed and buzzing like a hornet s 
 nest. Soon they would feel the sting 1 of the swarm 
 unless they beat an immediate retreat. One sweep 
 of his eyes told the bandy-legged fellow as much. 
 He could hear voices crying the alarm, could see 
 men running to and fro farther down the street. 
 Even in the second he stood there a revolver began 
 potting at him. 
 
 "Back in a moment," he cried to the wrangler, and 
 disappeared within to shout an urgent warning to 
 the looters. 
 
 Three men came up from the vault, each carrying 
 a sack. The teller was pushed into the street first, 
 and the rest followed. A scattering fire began to 
 converge at once upon them. The roan with the 
 white stockings showed a red ridge across its flank 
 where a bullet had furrowed a path. 
 
 The teller dropped, wounded by his friends. Two 
 of the robbers loaded the horses, while the others an 
 swered the townsmen. In the inevitable delay of 
 getting started, every moment seemed an hour to 
 the harassed outlaws. 
 
 But at last they were in the saddle and galloping 
 /down the street, firing right and left as they went. 
 At the next street crossing two men, one fat and 
 the other lean, came running, revolvers in hands, to 
 intercept them. They were too late. Before they 
 reached the corner the outlaws had galloped past in 
 
MAVERICKS 231 
 
 a cloud of white dust, still flinging bullets at the in 
 visible foe they were escaping. 
 
 The big lean cow-puncher stopped with an oath 
 as the riders disappeared. "Nothing doing, Budd," 
 he called to the fat man. "The show s moved on 
 to a new stand." 
 
 Jim Budd, puffing heavily and glistening with per 
 spiration, nodded the answer he could not speak. 
 Presently he got out what he wanted to say. 
 
 "Notice that leading hawss on the nigh side, 
 Slim?" he asked. 
 
 "So you noticed it, too, Jim. I could swear to 
 that roan with the four stockings. It s the hawss 
 Mr. Larrabie Keller mavericks around on, durn his 
 forsaken hide! And the man on it wore a polka- 
 dot bandanna. So does Keller. He ll have to go 
 some to explain away that. I reckon the others 
 must be nesters from Bear Creek, too." 
 
 "We ve got em where the wool s short this time," 
 Budd agreed. "They been shootin around right 
 promiscuous. If anybody s dead, then Keller has 
 put a rope round his own neck." 
 
 Men were already saddling and mounting for the 
 first unorganized pursuit. Slim and his friend joined 
 these, and cantered down the dusty street scarce ten 
 minutes after the robbers. 
 
 The suburbs of the town fell to the rear, and left 
 them in the fall and rise of the foothills that merged 
 to the left in the wide, flat, shimmering plain of 
 the Malpais, and on the other side in the saw-toothed 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 range that notched the horizon from north to south. 
 Somewhere in that waste of cow-backed hills, in that 
 swell of endless land waves, the trail of the robbers 
 vanished. 
 
 Men rode far and wide, carrying the pursuit late 
 into the night, but the lost trail was not to be picked 
 up again. So one by one, or in pairs, under the 
 yellow stars, they drifted back to Noches, leaving 
 behind the black depths of blue-canopied hills that 
 had swallowed the fleeing quartette. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 BRILL HEALY AIRS HIS SENTIMENTS 
 
 To Phyllis, riding from school near the close of 
 a hot Friday afternoon along the old Fort Lincoln 
 Trail, came the voice of Brill Healy from the ridge 
 above. She waved to him the broad-brimmed hat 
 she was carrying in her hand, and he guided his 
 pony deftly down the edge of the steep slope. 
 
 "Been looking for some strays down at Three 
 Pines," he explained. "Awful glad I met you." 
 
 "Where were you going now?" she asked. 
 
 "Home, I reckon ; but I ll ride with you to Seven 
 Mile if you don t mind." 
 
 She looked at her watch. "It s just five-thirty. 
 We ll be in time for supper, and you can ride home 
 afterward." 
 
 "I guess you know that will suit me, Phyllis," he 
 answered, with a meaning look from his dark eyes, 
 
 "Supper suits most healthy men so far as I ve no 
 ticed," she said carelessly, her glance sweeping keenly 
 over him before it passed to the purple shadowings 
 that already edged the mouth of a distant canon. 
 
 Til bet it does when they can sit opposite Phyl 
 Sanderson to eat it." 
 
 233 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 She frowned a little, the while he took her in out 
 of half-shut, smoldering eyes, as one does a picture 
 in a gallery. In truth, one might have ridden far to 
 find a living picture more vital and more suggestive 
 of the land that had cradled and reared her. 
 
 His gaze annoyed her, without her quite knowing 
 why. "I wish you wouldn t look at me all the time," 
 she told him with the boyish directness that still oc 
 casionally lent a tang to her speech. 
 
 "And if I can t help it?" he laughed. 
 
 "Fiddlesticks! You don t have to say pretty 
 things to me, Brill Healy," she told him. 
 
 "I don t say them because I have to." 
 
 "Then I wish you wouldn t say them at all. 
 There s no sense in it when you ve known a girl 
 eighteen years." 
 
 "Known and loved her eighteen years. It s a long 
 time, Phyl." 
 
 Her eyes rained light derision on him. "It would 
 be if it were true. But then one has to forget truth 
 when one is sentimental, I reckon." 
 
 "I m not sentimental. I tell you I m in love," he 
 answered. 
 
 "Yes, Brill. With yourself. I ve known that a 
 long time, but not quite eighteen years," she mocked. 
 
 "With you," he made answer, and something of 
 sullenness had by this time crept into his voice. 
 "I ve got as much right to love you as any one else, 
 haven t I? As much right as that durned waddy, 
 Keller?" 
 
MAVERICKS 235 
 
 Fire flashed in her eyes. "If you want to know, I 
 despise you when you talk that way." 
 
 The anger grew in him. "What way? When I 
 say anything against the rustler, do you mean? 
 Think I m blind? Think I can t see how you re 
 running after him, and making a fool of yourself 
 about him?" 
 
 "How dare you talk that way to me?" she flamed, 
 and gave her surprised pony a sharp stroke with the 
 quirt. 
 
 Five minutes later the bronchos fell again to a 
 walk, and Healy took up the conversation where it 
 had dropped. 
 
 "No use flying out like that, Phyl. I only say 
 what any one can see. Take a look at the facts. 
 You meet up with him making his getaway after 
 he s all but caught rustling. Now, what do 
 you do?" 
 
 "I don t believe he was rustling at all." 
 
 "Course you don t believe it. That proves just 
 what I was saying." 
 
 "Jim doesn t believe it, either." 
 
 "Yeager s opinion don t have any weight with me. 
 I want to tell you right now that the boys are getting" 
 mighty leary of Jim. He s getting too thick with 
 that Bear Creek bunch." 
 
 "Brill Healy, I never saw anybody so bigoted and 
 pig-headed as you are," the girl spoke out angrily. 
 "Any one with eyes in his head could see that Jim is 
 as straight as a string. He couldn t be crooked if 
 
236 MAVERICKS 
 
 he tried. Long as you ve known him I should think 
 you wouldn t need to be told that." 
 
 "Oh, you say so," he growled sullenly. 
 
 "Everybody says so. Jim Yeager of all men," she 
 scoffed. Then, with a flash of angry eyes at him, 
 "How would you like it if your friends rounded on 
 you? By all accounts, you re not quite a plaster 
 saint. I ve heard stories." 
 
 "What about?" 
 
 "Oh, gambling and drinking. What of it? That s 
 your business. One doesn t have to believe all the 
 talk that is flying around." She spoke with a 
 kind of fine scorn, for she was a girl of large gener 
 osities. 
 
 "We ve all got enemies, I reckon," he said sulkily. 
 
 "You re Phil s friend, and mine, too, of course. I 
 dare say you have your faults like other men, but 
 I don t have to listen to people while they try to 
 poison my mind against you. What s more, I 
 don t." 
 
 She had been agile-minded enough to shift the at 
 tack and put him upon the defensive, but now Heary 
 brought the question back to his original point. 
 
 "That s all very well, Phyl, but we weren t talk 
 ing about me, but about you. When you found this 
 Keller making his escape you buckled in and helped 
 him. You tied up his wound and took him to 
 Yeager s and lied for him to us. That s bad enough, 
 but later you did a heap worse." 
 
 "In saving him from being lynched by you ?" 
 
MAVERICKS 237 
 
 "Before that you made a fuss about him and had 
 to tie up his wounds. I had a cut on my cheek, but 
 I notice you didn t tie it up!" 
 
 "I m surprised at you, Brill. I didn t think you 
 were so small; and just because I didn t let a 
 wounded man suffer." 
 
 "You can put it that way if you want to," he 
 laughed unpleasantly. 
 
 Her passion flared again. "You and your insinu 
 ations! Who made you the judge over my actions? 
 You talk as if you were my father. If you ve got to 
 reform somebody, let it be yourself." 
 
 "I m the man that is going to be your husband," 
 he said evenly. "That gives me a right." 
 
 "Never! Don t think it," she flung back. "I d 
 not marry you if you were the last man on earth." 
 
 "You ll see. I ll not let a scoundrel like Keller 
 come between us. No, nor Yeager, either. Nor 
 Buck Weaver himself. I notice he was right atten 
 tive before he went home." 
 
 Resentment burned angrily on her cheek. "Any 
 body else?" she asked quietly. 
 
 "That s all for just now. You re a natural-born 
 flirt, Phyllis. That s what s the matter with you/ 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Healy. You re the only one of 
 my friends that has been so honest with me," she 
 assured him sweetly. 
 
 "I m the only one of them that is going to marry 
 you. Don t think I ll let Keller butt in. Not oa 
 your life." 
 
238 MAVERICKS 
 
 Her rage broke bounds. "I never in my life heard 
 of anything so insolent. Never ! You ll not let me 
 do this or that. Who are you, Brill Healy?" 
 
 "I ve told you. I m the man that means to marry 
 vou," he persisted doggedly. 
 
 "You never will. I m not thinking of marrying, 
 but when I do I ll not ask for your indorsement. 
 Be sure of that." 
 
 "I ll not stand it! He d better look out!" 
 
 "Who do you mean?" 
 
 "Keller, that s who I mean. This thing is hang 
 ing over his head yet. He s got to come through 
 with proofs he ain t a rustler, or he s got to pull his 
 freight out of the Malpais country." 
 
 "And if he won t?" 
 
 "We ll finish that little business you interrupted," 
 he told her, riding his triumph roughshod over her 
 feelings. 
 
 "You wouldn t, Brill ! Not when there is a doubt 
 about it. Jim says he is innocent, and I believe he 
 is. Surely you wouldn t!" 
 
 "You ll see." 
 
 "If you do I ll never speak to you again! Never, 
 as long as I live ; and I ll never rest till I have you 
 in the penitentiary for his murder!" she cried 
 tensely. 
 
 "And yet you don t care anything about him. 
 You ve just been kind to him out of charity," he 
 mocked. 
 
 For some minutes they had seen Seven Mile 
 
MAVERICKS 239 
 
 Ranch lying below them in the faint twilight. They 
 rode the rest of the way in silence, each of them too 
 bitter for speech. When they reached the house, 
 she swung from the saddle and he kept his seat, for 
 both of them considered her supper invitation and 
 his acceptance cancelled. 
 
 He bowed ironically and turned to leave. 
 
 "Just a moment, Brill," called an excited voice. 
 "I ve got a piece of news that will make you sit up." 
 
 The speaker was the young mule skinner known 
 as Cuffs. He came running out to the porch and 
 fired his bolt. 
 
 "The First National Bank at Noches was held up 
 two hours ago, and the robbers got away with their 
 loot after shooting three or four men!" 
 
 "Two hours ago," the girl repeated. "You got it 
 over the phone, of course." 
 
 "Yep. Slim called me up just now. He got back 
 right this minute from following their trail. They 
 lost the fellows in the hills. Four of em, Slim says, 
 and he thinks they re headed this way." 
 
 "What makes him think so?" asked Healy. 
 
 "He figures they are Bear Creek men. One of 
 them was recognized. It was that fellow Keller," 
 
 "Keller!" Phyllis and Healy cried the word to 
 g-ether. 
 
 Cuffs nodded. "Slim says he can swear to his 
 hawss, and he s plumb sure about the man, too. He 
 wants we should organize a posse and nail them 
 as they go into the Pass for Bear Creek. He figures 
 
240 MAVERICKS 
 
 we ll have time to do it if we jump. Noches is fifty- 
 five miles from here, and about forty from the Pass. 
 
 "With their bronchs loaded they can t make it in 
 much less than five hours. That gives us most three 
 hours to reach the Pass and stop them. What think,* 
 Brill? Can we make it?" 
 
 "We ll try damned hard. I m not going to let 
 Mr. Rustler Keller slip through my fingers again !" 
 Healy cried triumphantly. 
 
 "I don t believe it was Bear Creek men at all. 
 I m sure it wasn t Mr. Keller," Phyllis cried, with 
 a face like parchment. 
 
 There was an unholy light of vindictive triumph 
 in Healy s face. "We ll show you about that, Miss 
 Missouri. Get the boys together, Cuffs. Call up 
 Purdy and Jim Budd and Tom Dixon on the phone. 
 Rustle up as many of the boys as you can. Start em 
 for the Pass just as soon as they get here. I m go 
 ing right up there now. Probably I can t stop them, 
 but I may make out who they are. Notify Buck 
 Weaver, so he can head them off if they try to cross 
 the Malpais. And get a move on you. Hustle the 
 boys right along." 
 
 And with that he put spurs to his horse and gal 
 loped off. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE ROAN WITH THE WHiTE STOCKINGS 
 
 Unerringly rode Healy through the tangled hills 
 toward a saddle in the peaks that flared vivid with 
 crimson and mauve and topaz. A man of moods, 
 he knew more than one before he reached the Pass 
 for which he was headed. Now he rode with his 
 eyes straight ahead, his face creased to a hard smile 
 that brought out its evil lines. Now he shook his 
 clenched fist into the air and cursed. 
 
 Or again he laughed exultingly. This was when 
 he remembered that his rival was trapped beyond 
 hope of extrication. 
 
 While the sky tints round the peaks deepened to 
 purple with the coming night he climbed canons, 
 traversed rock ridges, and went down and up rough 
 slopes of shale. Always the trail grew more dif 
 ficult, for he was getting closer to the divide where 
 Bear Creek heads. He reached the upper regions of 
 the pine gulches that seamed the hills with wooded 
 crevasses, and so came at last to Gregory s Pass. 
 
 Here, close to the yellow stars that shed a cold 
 wintry light, he dismounted and hobbled his horse. 
 After which he found a soft spot in the mossy rocks 
 
 241 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 and fell asleep. He was a light sleeper, and two 
 hours later he awakened. Horses were laboring up 
 the Pass. 
 
 He waited tensely, rifle in both hands, till the 
 heads of the riders showed in the moonlight. Three 
 four five of them he counted. The men he saw 
 were those he expected, and he lowered his rifle at 
 once. 
 
 "Hello, Cuffs! Purdy! That you, Tom? Well, 
 you re too late." 
 
 "Too late/ echoed little Purdy. 
 
 "Yep. Didn t get here in time myself to see who 
 any of them were except the last. It was right 
 dark, and they were most through before I reached 
 here." 
 
 "But you knew one," Purdy suggested. 
 
 Healy looked at him and nodded. "There were 
 four of them. I crept forward on top of that flat 
 rock just as the last showed up. He was ridin a 
 hawss with four white stockings." 
 
 "A roan, mebbe," Tom put in quickly. 
 
 "You ve said it, Tom a roan, and it looked to me 
 like it was wounded. There was blood all over the 
 left flank." 
 
 "O course Keller was riding it," Purdy ventured. 
 
 "Rung the bell at the first shot," Healy answered 
 grimly. 
 
 "The son of a gun!" 
 
 "How long ago was it, Brill ?" asked another. 
 
 "Must a-been two hours, anyhow." 
 
MAVERICKS 243 
 
 j 
 
 "No use us following them now, then." 
 
 * No use. They ve gone to cover. " 
 
 They turned their horses and took the back trail. 
 The cow ponies scrambled down rocky slopes like 
 cats, and up steep inclines with the agility of moun- , 
 tain goats. The men rode in single file, and conver-j 
 sation was limited to disjointed fragments jerked 
 out sow and again. After an hour s rough going 
 they reached the foothills, where they could ride two 
 abreast. As they drew nearer to the ranch country, 
 now one and now another turned off with a shout of 
 farewell. 
 
 Healy accepted Purdy s invitation, and dis 
 mounted with him at the Fiddleback. Already the 
 first glimmering of dawn flickered faintly from the 
 serrated range. The men unsaddled, watered, fed, 
 and then walked stiffly to the house. Within five min 
 utes both of them lay like logs, dead to the world, 
 until Bess Purdy called them for breakfast, long 
 after the rest of the family had eaten. 
 
 "What devilment you been leading paw into, 
 Brill?" demanded Bess promptly when he appeared 
 in the doorway. "Dan says it was close to three 
 when you got home." 
 
 She flung her challenge at the young man with a 
 flash of smiling teeth. Bess was seventeen, a romp, 
 very pretty, and hail-fellow-well-met with every 
 range rider in a radius of thirty miles. 
 
 "We been looking for a beau for you, Bess," 
 Healy immediately explained. 
 
244 MAVERICKS 
 
 Miss Purdy tossed her head. "I can find one for 
 myself, Brill Healy, and I don t have to stay out till 
 three to get him, either." 
 
 "Come right to your door, do they?" he asked, as 
 she helped him to the ham and eggs. 
 
 "Maybe they do, and maybe they don t." 
 
 "Well, here s one come right in the middle of the 
 night. Somehow, I jest couldn t make out to wait 
 till morning, Bess." 
 
 "Oh, you," she laughed, with a demand for more 
 of this sort of chaffing in her hazel eyes. 
 
 At this kind of rough give and take he was an 
 adept. After breakfast he stayed and helped her 
 wash the dishes, romping with her the whole time 
 in the midst of gay bursts of laughter and such 
 repartee as occurred to them. 
 
 He found his young hostess so entertaining that 
 he did not get away until the morning was half gone. 
 By the time he reached Seven Mile the sun was past 
 the meridian, and the stage a lessening patch of 
 dust in the distance. 
 
 Before he was well out of the saddle, Phyllis San 
 derson was standing in the doorway of the store, 
 with a question in her eyes. 
 
 "Well ?" he forced her to say at last. 
 
 Leisurely he turned, as if just aware of her pres 
 ence. 
 
 "Oh, it s you. Mornin , Phyl." 
 
 "What did you find out?" 
 
 "I met your friend." 
 
MAVERICKS 245 
 
 "What friend?" 
 
 "Mr. Keller, the rustler and bank robber," he 
 drawled insolently, looking full in her face. 
 
 "Tell me at once what you found out." 
 
 "I found Mr. Keller riding a roan with four 
 white stockings and a wound on its flank." 
 
 She caught at the jamb. "You didn t, Brill!" 
 
 "I ce tainly did," he jeered. 
 
 "What what did you do?" Her lips were white 
 as her cheeks. 
 
 "I haven t done anything yet. You see, I was 
 alone. The other boys hadn t arrived then." 
 
 "And he wasn t alone?" 
 
 "No; he had three friends with him. I couldn t 
 make out whether any more of them were college 
 chums of yours." 
 
 Without another word, she turned her back on 
 him and went into the store. All night she had lain 
 sleepless and longed for and dreaded the coming of 
 the day. Over the wire from Noches had come at 
 dawn fuller details of the robbery, from her brother 
 Phil, who was spending two or three days in town. 
 
 It appeared that none of the wounded men would 
 die, though the president had had a narrow escape. 
 Posses had been out all night, and a fresh one was 
 just starting from Noches. It was generally be 
 lieved, however, that the bandits would be able to 
 make good their escape with the loot. 
 
 Her father was absent, making a round of his 
 sheep camps, and would not be back for a week. 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 Hence her hands were very full with the store and 
 the ranch. 
 
 She busied herself with the details of her work, 
 nodded now and again to one of the riders as they 
 drifted in, smiled and chatted as occasion demanded, 
 but always with that weight upon her heart she 
 could not shake off. Now, and then again, came to 
 her through the window the voices of Public Opin 
 ion on the porch. She made out snatches of the 
 talk, and knew the tide was running strongly against 
 the nester. The sound of Healy s low, masterful 
 voice came insistently. Once, as she looked through 
 the window, she saw a tilted flask at his lips. 
 
 Suddenly she became aware, without knowing 
 why, that something was happening, something that 
 stopped her heart and drew her feet swiftly to the 
 door. 
 
 Conversation had ceased. All eyes were deflected 
 to a pair of riders coming down the Bear Creek trail 
 with that peculiar jog that is neither a run nor a 
 walk. They seemed quite at ease with the world. 
 Speech and laughter rang languid and carefree. But 
 as they swung from the saddles their eyes swept the 
 group before them with the vigilance of searchlights 
 in time of war. 
 
 Brill Healy leaned forward, his right hand resting 
 lightly on his thigh. 
 
 "So you ve come back, Mr. Keller," he said. 
 
 "As you see." 
 
 "But not on that roan of yours, I notice/ 
 
MAVERICKS 247 
 
 "You notice correctly, seh." 
 
 "Now I wonder why." Healy spoke with a 
 drawl, but his eyes glittered menacingly. 
 
 "I expect you know why, Mr. Healy," came the 
 quiet retort 
 
 "Meaning?" 
 
 "That the roan was stolen from the pasture two 
 nights ago. Do you happen to know the name of the 
 thief?" 
 
 The cattleman laughed harshly, but behind his 
 laughter lay rising anger. "So that s the story 
 you re telling, eh? Sounds most as convincing as 
 that yarn about the pocketknife you picked up." 
 
 "I m not quite next to your point. Have I got to 
 explain to you why I do or don t ride a certain 
 horse, seh?" 
 
 "It ain t necessary. We all know why. You ain t 
 riding it because there is a bullet wound in the roan s 
 flank that might be some hard to explain." 
 
 "I don t know what you mean. I haven t seen 
 the horse for two days. It was stolen, as I say. 
 Apparently you know a good deal about that roan. 
 I d be right pleased to hear what you know, Mr. 
 Healy." 
 
 "Glad to death to wise you, Mr. Keller. That 
 roan was in Noches yesterday, and you were on its 
 back." 
 
 The nester shook his head. "No, I reckon not." 
 
 Yeager broke in abruptly: "What have you got 
 tip your sleeve, Brill? Spit it out." 
 
248 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Glad to oblige you, too, Jim. The First Na 
 tional at Noches was held up yesterday, about half- 
 past three or four, by some masked men. Slim and 
 Jim Budd were around and recognized that roan and 
 its rider." 
 
 "You mean " 
 
 "You ve guessed it, Jim. I mean that your friend, 
 the rustler, is a bank robber, too." 
 
 "Yesterday, you say, at four o clock?" 
 
 "About four, yes." 
 
 Yeager s face cleared. "Then that lets him out. 
 I was with him yesterday all day." 
 
 "Any one else with him?" 
 
 "No. We were alone." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "Out in the hills." 
 
 "Didn t happen to meet a soul all day maybe ?" 
 
 "No; what of it?" 
 
 Healy barked out again his hard laugh of incre 
 dulity. "Go slow, Jim. That ain t going to let him 
 out. It s going to let you in." 
 
 Yeager took a step toward him, fists clenched, and 
 eyes flashing. "I ll not stand for that, Brill." 
 
 Healy waved him aside. "I ve got no quarrel 
 with you, Jim. I ain t making any charges against 
 you to-day. But when it comes to Mr. Keller, that s 
 different." His gaze shifted to the nester and car 
 ried with it implacable hostility. "I back my play. 
 He s not only a rustler, he s a bank robber, too. 
 
MAVERICKS 249 
 
 What s more, he ll never leave here alive, except 
 with irons on his wrists!" 
 
 "Have you a warrant for my arrest, Mr. Healy ?" 
 inquired Keller evenly. 
 
 "Don t need one. Furthermore, I d as lief take 
 you in dead as alive. You cayn t hide behind a girl s 
 skirts this time," continued Healy. "You ve got to 
 stand on your own legs and take what s coming. 
 You re a bad outfit. We know you for a rustler, 
 and that s enough. But it ain t all. Yesterday you 
 gave us surplusage when you shot up three men in 
 Noches. Right now I serve notice that you ve 
 reached the limit" 
 
 "You serve notice, do you?" 
 
 "You re right, I do." 
 
 "But not legal notice, Mr. Healy." 
 
 At sight of his enemy standing there so easy and 
 undisturbed, facing death so steadily and so alertly, 
 Brill s passion seethed up and overflowed. Fury 
 filmed his eyes. He saw red. With a jerk, his re 
 volver was out and smoking. A stop watch could 
 scarce have registered the time before Keller s 
 weapon was answering. 
 
 But that tenth part of a second made all the dif 
 ference. For the first heavy bullet from Healy s .44 
 had crashed into the shoulder of his foe. The shock 
 of it unsteadied the nester s aim. When the smoke 
 cleared it showed the Bear Creek man sinking to the 
 ground, and the right arm of the other hanging 
 limply at his side. 
 
250 MAVERICKS 
 
 At the first sound of exploding revolvers, Phyllis 
 had grown rigid, but the fusillade had not died away 
 before she was flying along the hall to the porch. 
 
 Brill Healy s voice, cold and cruel, came to her 
 in even tones : 
 
 "I reckon I ve done this job right, boys. If be 
 hadn t winged me, and if Jim hadn t butted in, I d 
 a-done it more thorough, though." 
 
 Yeager was bending over the man lying on the 
 ground. He looked up now and spoke bitterly: 
 "You ve murdered an innocent man. Ain t that 
 thorough enough for you?" 
 
 Then, catching sight of Cuffs on the porch of the 
 house, Yeager issued orders sharply: "Get on my 
 horse and ride like hell for Doc Brown! Bob, you 
 and Luke help me carry him into the house. What 
 room, Phyl?" 
 
 "My room, Jim. Oh, Cuffs, hurry, please !" With 
 that she was gone into the house to make ready the 
 bed for the wounded man. 
 
 Healy picked up the revolver that had fallen from 
 his hand, and slid it back into the holster. 
 
 "That s right, boys. Take him in and let Phyl 
 patch up the coyote if she can. I reckon this time 
 she ll have her hands plumb full. Beats all how a 
 decent girl can take up with a ruffian and a scoun 
 drel." 
 
 "That will be enough from you, seh," Yeager 
 told him sharply. 
 
 Purdy nodded. "Jim s right, Brill. This man 
 
MAVERICKS 251 
 
 has got what was coming to him. It ain t proper to 
 jump him right now, when he s down and out." 
 
 "Awful tender-hearted you boys are. Come to 
 that, I ve got a pill in me, too, but of course that 
 don t matter," Healy retorted. 
 
 "If he dies you ll have another in you, seh," 
 Yeager told him quietly, meeting his eyes steadily 
 for an instant. "Steady, Bob. You take his feet. 
 That s right." 
 
 They carried the nester to the bedroom of Phyl 
 lis and laid him down gently on the bed. His eyes 
 opened and he looked about him as if to ask where 
 he was. He seemed to understand what had hap 
 pened, for presently he smiled faintly at his friend 
 and said: 
 
 "Beat me to it, Jim. I m bust up proper this 
 time." 
 
 "He shot without giving warning." 
 
 Keller moved his head weakly in dissent. "No, 
 I knew just when he was going to draw, but I had 
 to wait for him." 
 
 The big, husky plainsmen undressed him with 
 the tenderness of women, and did their best with 
 ; the help of Aunt Becky, to take care of his wounds 
 temporarily. After these had been dressed Phyllis 
 and the old colored woman took charge of the nurs 
 ing and dismissed all the men but Yeager. 
 
 It would be many hours before Doctor Brown ar 
 rived, and it took no critical eyes to see that this 
 man was stricken low. All the supple strength and 
 
S52 MAVERICKS 
 
 gay virility were out of him. Three of the bullets 
 had torn through him. In her heavy heart the girl 
 believed he was going to die. While Yeager was 
 eut of the room she knelt down by the bedside, un 
 ashamed, and asked for his life as she had never 
 prayed for anything before. 
 
 By this time his fever was high and he was wan 
 dering in his head. The wild look of delirium was 
 in his eyes, and faint weak snatches of irrelevant 
 speech on his lips. His moans stabbed her heart. 
 There was nothing she could do for him but watch 
 and wait and pray. But what little was to be done 
 in the way of keeping his hot head cool with wet 
 towels her own hands did jealously. Jim and Aunt 
 Becky waited on her while she waited on the sick 
 man. 
 
 About midnight the doctor rode up. All day and 
 most of the night before he had been in the saddle. 
 Cuffs had found him across the divide, nearly forty 
 miles away, working over a boy who had been bit 
 ten by a rattlesnake. But he brought into the sick 
 room with him that manner of cheerful confidence 
 which radiates hope. You could never have 
 guessed that he was very tired, nor, after the first 
 few minutes, did he know it himself. He lost him 
 self in his case, flinging himself into the breach to 
 turn the tide of what had been a losing battle. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 YEAGER RIDES TO NOCHES 
 
 Jim Yeager had not watched through the long 
 day and night with Phyllis without discovering how 
 deeply her feelings were engaged. His unobtru 
 sive readiness and his constant hopefulness had 
 been to her a tower of strength during the quiet, 
 dreadful hours before the doctor came. 
 
 Once, during the night, she had followed him 
 into the dark hall when he went out to get some 
 fresh cold water, and had broken down completely. 
 
 "Is he is he going to die?" she besought of him, 
 bursting into tears for the first time. 
 
 Jim patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Now, 
 don t you, Phyl. You got to buck up and help pull 
 him through. Course he s shot up a heap, but then 
 a man like him can stand a lot of lead in his body. 
 There aren t any of these wounds in a vital place. 
 Chief trouble is he s lost so much blood. That s 
 where his clean outdoor life comes in to help build 
 him up. I ll bet Doc Brown pulls him through." 
 
 "Are you just saying that, Jim, or do you really 
 think so?" 
 
 "I m saying it, and I think it. There s a whole 
 
254 MAVERICKS 
 
 lot in gaming a thing out. What we ve got to do is 
 to think he s going to make it. Once we give up, 
 it will be all off." 
 
 "You are such a help, Jim," she sighed, dabbing 
 at her eyes with her little handkerchief. "And 
 you re the best man." 
 
 "That s right. I ll be the best man when we pull 
 off that big wedding of yours and his." 
 
 Her heart went out to him with a rush. "You re 
 the only friend both of us have," she cried impul 
 sively. 
 
 With the coming of Doctor Brown, Jim resigned 
 his post of comforter in chief, but he stayed at 
 Seven Mile until the crisis was past and the patient 
 on the mend. Next day Slim, Budd, and Phil San 
 derson rode in from Noches. They were caked 
 with the dust of their fifty-mile ride, but after they 
 had washed and eaten, Yeager had a long talk with 
 them. He learned, among other things, that Healy 
 had telephoned Sheriff Gill that Keller was lying 
 wounded at Seven Mile, and that the sheriff was ex 
 pecting to follow them in a few hours. 
 
 "Coming to arrest Brill for assault with intent 
 to kill, I reckon," Yeager suggested dryly. 
 
 Phil turned on him petulantly. "What s the use- 
 of you trying to get away with that kind of talk, 
 Jim? This fellow Keller was recognized as one of 
 the robbers." 
 
 "That ain t what Slim has just been telling, Phil. 
 He says he recognized the hawss, and thinks it was 
 
MAVERICKS 255 
 
 Keller in the saddle. Now, I don t think anything 
 about it. I know Keller was with me in the hills 
 when this hold-up took place." 
 
 "You re his friend, Jim," the boy told him sig 
 nificantly. 
 
 "You bet I am. But I ain t a bank robber, if 
 that s what you mean, Phil." 
 
 His clear eyes chiselled into those of the boy and 
 dominated him. 
 
 "I didn t say you were," Phil returned sulkily. 
 "But I reckon we all recall that you lied for him 
 once. Whyfor would it be a miracle if you did 
 again ?" 
 
 Jim might have explained, but did not, that it 
 was not for Keller he had lied. He contented him 
 self with saying that the roan with the white 
 stockings had been stolen from the pasture before 
 the holdup. He happened to know, because he was 
 spending the night in Keller s shack with him at 
 the time. 
 
 Slim cut in, with drawling sarcasm : "You ve got 
 a plumb perfect alibi figured out for him, Jim. I 
 reckon you ve forgot that Brill saw him riding 
 through the Pass with the rest of his outfit." 
 
 "Brill says so. I say he didn t," returned Yeager 
 calmly. 
 
 Toward evening Gill arrived and formally put 
 Keller under arrest. Practically, it amounted only 
 to the precaution of leaving a deputy at the ranch 
 as a watch, for one glance had told the sheriff that 
 
256 MAVERICKS 
 
 the wounded man would not be in condition to 
 travel for some time. 
 
 It was the following day that Yeager saddled and 
 said good-by to Phyllis. 
 
 "I m going to Noches to see if I cayn t find out 
 something. It don t look reasonable to me that 
 those fellows could disappear, bag and baggage, 
 into a hole and draw it in after them." 
 
 "What about Brill s story that he saw them at 
 the Pass?" the girl asked. 
 
 "He may have seen four men, but he ce tainly 
 didn t see Larrabie Keller. My notion is, Brill lied 
 out of whole cloth, but of course I m not in a posi 
 tion to prove it. Point is, why did he lie at all?" 
 
 Phyllis blushed. "I think I know, Jim." 
 
 Yeager smiled. "Oh, I know that. But that 
 ain t, to my way of thinking, motive enough. I 
 mean that a white man doesn t try to hang an 
 other just because he well, because he cut him 
 out of his girl." 
 
 "I never was his girl," Phyllis protested. 
 
 "I know that, but Brill couldn t get it through his 
 thick head till a stone wall fell on him and give him 
 a hint." 
 
 "What other motive are you thinking of, Jim? 
 
 He hesitated. "I ve just been kinder milling 
 things around. Do you happen to know right when 
 you met Brill the day of the robbery?" 
 
 "Yes. I looked at my watch to see if we would 
 be in time for supper. It was five-thirty." 
 
MAVERICKS 25T 
 
 "And the robbery was at three. The fellows 
 didn t get out of town till close to three-thirty, I 
 reckon," he mused aloud. 
 
 "What has that got to do with it? You don t 
 
 mean that " She stopped with parted lips and 
 
 eyes dilating. 
 
 He shook his head. "I ve got no right to mean 
 that, Phyllie. Even if I did have a kind of notion 
 that way I d have to give it up. Brill s got a steel- 
 bound, copper-riveted alibi. He couldn t have beeh 
 at Noches at tkree o clock and with you two hours 
 later, fifty-five miles from there. No hawss alive 
 could do it." 
 
 "But, Jim why, it s absurd, anyway. We ve 
 known Brill always. He couldn t be that kind of a 
 man. How could he?" 
 
 "I didn t say he could," returned her friend non- 
 committally. "But when it comes to knowing him, 
 what do you know about him or about me, say: 
 I might be a low-lived coyote without you knowing 
 it. I might be all kinds of a devil. A good girl 
 like you wouldn t know it if I set out to keep it 
 still." 
 
 "I could tell by looking at you," she answered 
 promptly. 
 
 "Yes, you could," he derided good-naturedly, 
 "How would you know it? Men don t squeal on 
 each other." 
 
 "Do you mean that Brill isn t what we ve al 
 ways thought him?" 
 
258 MAVERICKS 
 
 "I m not talking about Brill, but about Jim Yea- 
 ger," he evaded. "He d hate to have you know 
 everything that s mean and off color he ever did." 
 
 "I believe you must have robbed the bank your 
 self, Jim," she laughed. "Are you a rustler, too?" 
 
 He echoed her laugh as he swung to the saddle. 
 "I m not giving myself away any more to-day." 
 
 Brill Healy rode up, his arm in a sling. Deep 
 rings of dissipation or of sleeplessness were under 
 his eyes. He looked first at Yeager and then at the 
 young woman, with an ugly sneer. "How s your 
 dear patient, Phyl ?" 
 
 "He is better, Brill," she answered quietly, with 
 her eyes full on him. "That is, we hope he is bet 
 ter. The doctor isn t quite sure yet." 
 
 "Some of us don t hope it as much as the rest of 
 us, I reckon." 
 
 She said nothing, but he read in her look a con 
 tempt that stung like the lash of a whip. 
 
 "He ll be worse again before I m through with 
 him," the man cried, with a furious oath. 
 
 Phyllis measured him with her disdainful eye, 
 and dismissed him. She stepped forward and 
 shook hands with Yeager. 
 
 "Take care of yourself, Jim, and don t spare any 
 expense that is necessary," she said. 
 
 For a moment she watched her friend canter off, 
 then turned on her heel, and passed into the house, 
 utterly regardless of Healy. 
 
 Yeager reached Noches late, for he had unsad- 
 
MAVERICKS 259 
 
 died and let his horse rest at Willow Springs dur 
 ing the heat of the broiling day. 
 
 After he had washed and had eaten, Yeager 
 drifted to the Log Cabin Saloon and gambling 
 house. Here was gathered the varied and turbulent 
 life of the border country. Dark-skinned Mexi 
 cans rubbed shoulders with range riders baked al 
 most as brown by the relentless sun. Pima Indians 
 and Chinamen and negroes crowded round the faro 
 and dice tables. Games of monte and chuckaluck 
 had their devotees, as had also roulette and poker. 
 
 It was a picturesque scene of strong, untamed, 
 self-reliant frontiersmen. Some of them were out 
 laws and criminals, and some were as simple and 
 tender-hearted as children. But all had become ac 
 customed to a life where it is possible at any mo 
 ment to be confronted with sudden death. 
 
 A man playing the wheel dropped a friendly nod. 
 at Jim. He waited till the wheel had stopped and 
 saw the man behind it rake in his chips before he 
 spoke. Then, as he scattered more chips here and 
 there over the board, he welcomed Yeager with a 
 whoop. 
 
 "Hi there, Malpais! What s doing in the hills 
 these yere pleasant days?" 
 
 "A little o nothin , Sam. The way they re tell 
 ing it you been having all the fun down here." 
 
 Sam Wilcox gathered the chips pushed toward 
 him by the croupier and cashed in. He was a heavy- 
 set, bronzed man, with a bleached, straw-colored 
 
260 MAVERICKS 
 
 mustache. Taking his friend by the arm, he led 
 him to one end of the bar that happened for the 
 moment to be deserted. 
 
 "Have something, Jim. Oh, I forgot. You re 
 ridin the water wagon and don t irrigate. More n 
 I can say for some of you Malpais lads. Some of 
 them was in here right woozy the other day." 
 
 "The boys will act the fool when they hit town. 
 Who was it?" 
 
 "Slim and Budd and young Sanderson." 
 
 "Was Phil Sanderson drunk?" Yeager asked, 
 hardly surprised, but certainly troubled. 
 
 "I ain t sure he was, but he was makin the fur 
 fly at the wheel, there. Must have dropped two 
 hundred dollars." 
 
 Jim s brows knit in a puzzled frown. He was 
 wondering how the boy had come by so much 
 money at a time. 
 
 "Who was he trailin with?" 
 
 "With a lad called Spiker, that fair-haired guy 
 sitting in at the poker table. He s another young 
 ster that has been dropping money right plentiful." 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 "He s what they call a showfer. He runs one o* 
 these automobiles; takes parties out in it." 
 
 "Been here long? Looks kind o like a tinhorn 
 gambler." 
 
 "Not long. He s thick with some of you Malpais 
 gents. I ve seen him with Healy a few." 
 
 "Oh, with Healy." 
 
MAVERICKS 261 
 
 Jim regarded the sportive youth more attentively, 
 and presently dropped into a vacant seat beside 
 him, buying twenty dollars worth of chips. 
 
 Spiker was losing steadily. He did not play 
 either a careful or a brilliant game. Jim, playing 
 very conservatively, and just about holding his own, 
 listened to the angry bursts and the boastings of 
 the man next him, and drew his own conclusions as 
 to his character. After a couple of hours of play 
 the Malpais man cashed in and went back to the 
 hotel where he was putting up. 
 
 He slept till late, ate breakfast leisurely, and after 
 an hour of looking over the paper and gossiping 
 with the hotel clerk about the holdup he called 
 casually upon the deputy sheriff. Only one thing of 
 importance he gleaned from him. This was that 
 the roan with the white stockings had been picked 
 up seven miles from Noches the morning after the 
 holdup. 
 
 This put a crimp in Healy s story of having seen 
 Keller in the Pass on the animal. Furthermore, it 
 opened a new field for surmise. Brill Healy said 
 that he had seen the horse with a wound in its flank. 
 Now, how did he know it was wounded, since Slim 
 had not mentioned this when he had telephoned? 
 It followed that if he had not seen the broncho 
 and that he had seen it was a sheer physical im 
 possibility he could know of the wound only be 
 cause he was already in close touch with what had 
 happened at Noches. 
 
262 MAVERICKS 
 
 But how could he be aware of what was happen 
 ing fifty miles away? That was the sticker Jim 
 could not get around. His alibi was just as good 
 as that of the horse. Both of them rested on the 
 assumption that neither could cover the ground be 
 tween two given points in a given time. There was 
 one other possible explanation that Healy had 
 been in telephonic communication with Noches be 
 fore he met Phyllis. But this seemed to Jim very 
 unlikely, indeed. By his own story he had been cut 
 ting trail all afternoon and had seen nobody until 
 he met Phyllis. 
 
 Yeager called on the cashier, Benson, later in the 
 day, and had a talk with him and with the presi 
 dent, Johnson. Both of these were now back at 
 their posts, though the latter was not attempting 
 much work as yet. Jim talked also with many 
 others. Some of them had theories, but none of 
 them had any new facts to advance. 
 
 The young cattleman put up at the same hotel as 
 
 Spike r and struck up a sort of intimacy with him. 
 
 They sometimes loafed together during the day, and 
 
 at night they were always to be seen side by side 
 
 , at the poker table. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 BREAKING DOWN AN ALIBI 
 
 Keller found convalescence under the superin 
 tendence of Miss Sanderson one of the great pleas 
 ures of his life. Her school was out for the sum 
 mer and she was now at home all day. He had 
 never before found time to be lazy, and what 
 dreaming he had done had been in the stress of 
 action. Now he might lie the livelong day and not 
 too obviously watch her brave, frank youth as she 
 moved before him or sat reading. For the first 
 time in his life he was in love! 
 
 But as the nester grew better he perceived that 
 she was withdrawing herself from him. He puz 
 zled over the reason, not knowing that her brother, 
 Phil, was troubling her with flings and accusations 
 thrown out bitterly because his boyish concern for 
 her good name could find no gentler way to express 
 Itself. 
 
 "They re saying you re in love with the fellow 
 and him headed straight for the pen," he charged. 
 
 "Who says it, Phil ?" she asked quietly, but with 
 flaming cheeks. 
 
 He smote his fist on the table. "It don t matter 
 268 
 
264 MAVERICKS 
 
 who says it. You keep away from him. Let Aunt 
 Becky nurse him. You haven t any call to wait on 
 him, anyhow. If he s got to be nursed by one of 
 the family, I ll do it." 
 
 He tried to keep his word, and as a result of it 
 the wounded man had to endure his sulky presence 
 occasionally. Keller was man of the world enough 
 to be amused at his attitude, and yet was interested 
 enough in the lad s opinion of him to keep always 
 an even mood of cheerful friendliness. There was 
 a quantity of winsome camaraderie about him that 
 won its way with Phil in spite of himself. More* 
 over, all the boy in him responded to the nester s 
 gameness, the praises of which he heard on all 
 sides. 
 
 "I see you have quite made up your mind I m a 
 skunk," the wounded man told him amiably. 
 
 "You robbed the bank at Noches and shot up 
 three men that hadn t hurt you any," the boy re 
 torted defiantly. 
 
 "Not unless Jim Yeager is a liar." 
 
 "Oh, Jim! No use going into that. He s your 
 friend. I don t know why, but he is." 
 
 "And you re Brill Healy s. That s why you 
 won t tell that he was carrying your sister s knife 
 the day I saw you and him first." 
 
 The boy flashed toward the bed startled eyes. 
 Keller was looking at him very steadily. 
 
 "Who says he had Phyl s knife?" 
 
 "Hadn t he?" 
 
MAVERICKS 265 
 
 "What difference does that make, anyhow? I 
 hear you re telling that you found the knife beside 
 the dead cow. You ain t got any proof, have you?" 
 challenged young Sanderson angrily. 
 
 "No proof," admitted the other. 
 
 "Well, then." Phil chewed on it for a moment 
 before he broke out again: "I reckon you cayn t 
 talk away the facts, Mr. Keller. We caught you 
 in the act caught you good. By your own story, 
 you re the man we came on. What s the use of you 
 trying to lay it on me and Brill ?" 
 
 "Am I trying to lay it on you?" 
 
 "Looks like. On Brill, anyhow. There s noth 
 ing doing. Folks in this neck of the woods is for 
 him and against you. Might as well sabe that right 
 now," the lad blurted. 
 
 "I sabe that some of them are," the other 
 laughed, but not with quite his usual debonair gay- 
 ety. For he did not at all like the way things 
 looked. 
 
 But though Phil had undertaken to do all the 
 nursing that needed to be done by the family, he 
 was too much of an outdoors dweller to confine 
 himself for long to the four walls of a room. Be 
 sides, he was often called away by the work of look 
 ing after the cattle of the ranch. Moreover, both 
 he and his father were away a good deal arranging 1 
 for the disposal of their sheep. At these times her 
 patient hoped, and hoped in vain, that Phyllis would 
 take her brother s place. 
 
266 MAVERICKS 
 
 Came a day when Keller could stand it no longer. 
 In Becky s absence, he made shift to dress himself, 
 bit by bit, lying on the bed in complete exhaustion 
 after the effort of getting into each garment. He 
 could scarce finish what he had undertaken, but at 
 last he was clothed and ready for the journey. 
 Leaning on a walking stick, he dragged himself into 
 the passage and out to the porch, where Phyllis was 
 sitting alone. 
 
 She gave a startled cry at sight of him standing 
 there, haggard and white, his clothes hanging on 
 his gaunt frame much as if he had been a skeleton. 
 
 "What are you doing?" she cried, running to his 
 aid. 
 
 After she had got him into her chair, he smiled 
 up at her and panted weakly. He was leaning back 
 in almost complete exhaustion. 
 
 "You wouldn t come to see me, so I came - 
 to see you," he gasped out, at last. 
 
 "But you shouldn t have! You might have 
 done yourself a great injury. It s it s criminal of 
 you." 
 
 "I wanted to see you/ he explained simply. 
 
 "Why didn t you send for me?" 
 
 "There wasn t anybody to send. Besides, you 
 wouldn t have stayed. You never do, now." 
 
 She looked at him, then looked away. "You 
 don t need me now and I have my work to do/ 
 
 "But I do need you, Phyllie." 
 
 It was the first time he had ever spoken the dv 
 
MAVERICKS JW7 
 
 minutive to her. He let out the word lingeringly, 
 as if it were a caress. The girl felt the color floMt 
 beneath her dusky tan. She changed the subject 
 abruptly. 
 
 "None of the boys are here. How am I to get 
 you back to your room?" 
 
 "I ll roll a trail back there presently, ma am/ 
 
 She looked helplessly round the landscape, in 
 hope of seeing some rider coming to the store. But 
 nobody was in sight. 
 
 "You had no business to come. It might have 
 killed you. I thought you had better sense," she 
 reproached. 
 
 "I wanted to see you," he parroted again. 
 
 Like most young women, she knew how to ig 
 nore a good deal. "You ll have to lean on me. Do 
 you think you can try it now?" 
 
 "If I go, will you stay with me and talk?" he 
 bargained. 
 
 "I have my work to do," she frowned. 
 
 "Then I ll stay here, thank you kindly." He 
 settled back into the chair and let her have his gay 
 smile. Nevertheless, she saw that his lips were 
 colorless. 
 
 "Yes, I ll stay," she conceded, moved by her anx 
 iety. 
 
 "Every day?" 
 
 "We ll see." 
 
 "An right," he laughed weakly. "If you don t 
 come, 1*11 take a pas ear and go look for you." 
 
268 MAVERICKS 
 
 She helped him to his feet and they stood for 
 a moment facing each other. 
 
 "You must put your hand on my shoulder and 
 lean hard on me," she told him. 
 
 But when she saw the utter weakness of him, 
 her arm slipped round his waist and steadied him. 
 
 "Now then. Not too fast," she ordered gently. 
 
 They went back very slowly, his weight leaning 
 on her more at every step. When they reached his 
 room, Keller sank down on the bed, utterly ex 
 hausted. Phyllis ran for a cordial and put it to his 
 lips. It was some time before he could even speak. 
 
 "Thank you. I ain t right husky yet," he ad 
 mitted. 
 
 "You mustn t ever do such a thing again," she 
 charged him. 
 
 "Not ever?" 
 
 "Not till the doctor says you re strong enough to 
 
 move." 
 
 "I won t if you ll come and see me every day," 
 he answered irrepressibly. 
 
 So every afternoon she brought a book or her 
 sewing, and sat by him, letting Phil storm about 
 it as much as he liked. These were happy hours. 
 Neither spoke of love, but the air was electrically 
 full of it. They laughed together a good deal at 
 remarks not intrinsically humorous, and again 
 there were conversational gaps so highly charged 
 that she would rush at them as a reckless hunter 
 takes a fence. 
 
MAVERICKS 269 
 
 As he got better, he would be propped up in bed, 
 and Aunt Becky would bring in tea for them both. 
 If there had been any corner of his heart unwon it 
 would have surrendered then. For to a bachelor 
 the acme of bliss is to sit opposite a girl of whom 
 he is very fond, and to see her buttering his bread 
 and pouring his tea with that air of domesticity 
 that visualizes the intimacy of which he has 
 dreamed. Keller had played a lone hand all his 
 turbulent life, and this was like a glimpse of Heaven 
 let down to earth for his especial benefit. 
 
 It was on such an occasion that Jim Yeager 
 dropped in on them upon his return from Noches. 
 He let his eyes travel humorously over the room 
 before he spoke. 
 
 "Whyfor don t I ever have the luck to be shot 
 up?" he drawled. 
 
 "Oh, you Jim !" Keller called a greeting from the 
 bed. Phyllis came forward, and, with a heightened 
 color, shook hands with him. 
 
 "You ll sit down with us and have some tea, 
 Jim," she told him. 
 
 "Me? I m no society Willie. Don t know the 
 game at all, Phyl. Besides, I m carrying half of 
 Arizona on my clothes. It s some dusty down in 
 the Malpais." 
 
 Nevertheless he sat down, and, over the biscuits 
 and jam, told the meagre story of what he had 
 found out. 
 
 The finding of the stocking- footed roan near 
 
270 MAVERICKS 
 
 Noches so soon after the robbery disposed of Healy s 
 lie, though it did not prove that Keller had not 
 been riding it at the time of the holdup. As for 
 Healy, Yeager confessed he saw no way of impli 
 cating him. His alibi was just as good as that of 
 any of them. 
 
 But there was one person his story did involve, 
 and that was Spiker, the tinhorn, tenderfoot sport 
 of Noches. During the absence of this young man 
 at the gaming table, Jim and his friend, Sam 
 Weaver, had got into his room with a skeleton key 
 and searched it thoroughly. They had found, in a 
 suit case, a black mask, a pair of torn and shiny 
 chaps, a gray shirt, a white, dusty sombrero, much 
 the worse for wear, and over three hundred dol 
 lars in bills. 
 
 "What does he pretend his business is?" Keller 
 asked, when Jim had finished. 
 
 "Allows he s a showfer. Drives folks around in 
 a gasoline wagon. That s the theory, but I notice 
 he turned down a mining man who wanted to get 
 him to run him into the hills on Monday. Said he 
 hadn t time. The showfer biz is a Huff, looks like." 
 
 The nester made no answer. His eyes, narrowed 
 to slits, were gazing out of the window absently. 
 Presently he came from deep thought to ask Yea 
 ger to hand him the map he would find in his inside 
 coat pocket. This he spread out on the bed in front 
 of him. When at last he looked up he was smiling. 
 
MAVERICKS 271 
 
 "I reckon it s no bluff, Jim. He s a chauffeur, 
 all right, but lie only drives out select outfits." 
 
 "Meaning?" 
 
 The map lying in front of Keller was one of 
 Noches County. The nester located, with his in- 
 dex finger, the town of that name, and traced the 
 road from it to Seven Mile. Then his finger went 
 back to Noches, and followed the old military road 
 to Fort Lincoln, a route which almost paralleled 
 the one to the ranch. 
 
 The eyes of Phyllis were already shining with ex 
 citement. She divined what was coming. 
 
 "Is this road still travelled, Jim?" 
 
 "It goes out to the old fort. Nobody has lived 
 there for most thirty years. I reckon the road 
 ain t travelled much." 
 
 "Strikes through Del Oro Canon, doesn t it, right 
 after it leaves Noches?" 
 
 "Yep." 
 
 "I reckon, Jim, your friend, Spiker, drove a party 
 out that way the afternoon of the holdup," the 
 nester drawled smilingly. "By the way, is your 
 friend in the lockup?" 
 
 "He sure is. The deputy sheriff arrested him 
 same night we went through his room." 
 
 "Good place for him. Well, it looks like we got 
 Mr. Healy tagged at last. I don t mean that we ve 
 got the proof, but we can prove he might have 
 been on the job." 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "I don t see it, Larry. I reckon my head s right 
 thick." 
 
 "I see it," spoke up Phyllis quickly. 
 
 Keller smiled at her. You tell him." 
 
 "Don t you see, Jim ? The motor car must have 
 been waiting for them somewhere after they had 
 robbed the bank," she explained. 
 
 "At the end of Del Oro Canon, likely," sug 
 gested the nester. 
 
 She nodded eagerly. "Yes, they would get into 
 the canon before the pursuit was in sight. That is 
 why they were not seen by Slim and the rest of 
 the posse." 
 
 Yeager looked at her, and as he looked the cer 
 tainty of it grew on him. His mind began to piece 
 out the movements of the outlaws from the time 
 they left Noches. "That s right, Phyl. His car 
 is what he calls a hummer. It can go like blazes 
 forty miles an hour, he told me. And the old fort 
 road is a dandy, too." 
 
 "They would leave the automobile at Willow 
 Creek, and cut across to the Pass," she hazarded. 
 
 "All but Brill. Being bridlewise, he rode right 
 for Seven Mile to make dead sure of his alibi, 
 whilst the others made their getaway with the loot. 
 When he happened to meet you on the way, he 
 would be plumb tickled, for that cinched things 
 proper for him. You would be a witness nobody 
 could get away from." 
 
 "And what about their hawsses ? Did they bring 
 
MAVERICKS 273 
 
 the bronchs in the car, too?" drawled Keller, an 
 amused flicker in his eyes. 
 
 The others, who had been swimming into their 
 deductions so confidently, were brought up abruptly. 
 Phyllis glanced at Jim and looked foolish. 
 
 "The bronchs couldn t tag along behind at a forty 
 per clip. That s right," admitted Yeager blankly. 
 
 "I hadn t thought about that. And they had to 
 have their horses with them to get from Willow 
 Creek to the Pass. That spoils everything," the 
 girl agreed. 
 
 Then, seeing her lover s white teeth flashing 
 laughter at her, she knew he had found a way 
 round the difficulty. "How would this do, part 
 ners just for a guess: The car was waiting 
 for them at the end of the Del Oro Canon. They 
 dumped their loot into it, then unsaddled and threw 
 all the saddles in, too. They gave the bronchs a 
 good scare, and started them into the hills, knowing 
 they would find their way back home all right in a 
 couple of days. At Willow Creek they found 
 hawsses waiting for them, and Mr. Spiker hit the 
 back trail for Noches, with his car, and slid into 
 town while everybody was busy about the robbery." 
 
 "Sure. That would be the way of it," his friend 
 nodded. "All we got to do now is to get Spiker to 
 squeal." 
 
 "If he happens to be a quitter." 
 
 "He will under pressure. He s that kind." 
 
 A knock came on the door, and Tom Benwell, 
 
274 MAVERICKS 
 
 the store clerk, answered her summons to come in. 
 
 "It s Budd, Miss Phyl. He came to see about 
 getting that stuff you was going to order for a 
 dress for his little girl," the storekeeper explained. 
 
 Phyllis rose and followed the man back to the 
 store. When she had gone, Jim stepped to the 
 door and shut it. Returning, he sat down beside 
 the bed. 
 
 "Larry, I didn t tell all I know. That hat in 
 Spiker s room had the initials P. S. written on the 
 band. What s more, I knew the hat by a big coffee 
 stain splashed on the crown. It happens I made 
 that stain myself on the round-up onct when we 
 were wrastling and I knocked the coffeepot over." 
 
 Keller looked at his friend gravely. "It was 
 Phil Sanderson s hat?" 
 
 Yeager nodded assent. "He must have loaned 
 his old hat to Spiker for the holdup." 
 
 "You didn t turn the hat over to the sheriff?" 
 
 "Not so as you could notice it. I shoved it in my 
 jfcans and burnt it over my camp fire next day." 
 
 "This mixes things up a heap. If Phil is in this 
 thing and it sure looks that way it ties our 
 hands. I d like to have a talk with Spiker before, 
 Iwe do anything." 
 
 "What s the matter with having a talk with Phil ? 
 Why not shove this thing right home to him?" 
 
 The nester shook his head. "Let s wait a while, 
 don t want to drive Healy away yet. If the 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 kid s in it he would go right to Healy with the 
 wbole story." 
 
 Yeager swore softly. "It s all Brill s fault He s 
 been leading Phil into devilment for two years 
 now." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And all the time been playing himself for the* 
 leader of us fellows that are against the rustlers 
 and that Bear Creek outfit," continued Jim bitterly. 
 "Why, we been talking of electing him sheriff. 
 Durn his forsaken hide, he s been riding round 
 asking the boys to vote for him on a promise to 
 dean out the miscreants." 
 
 "You can oppose him, of course. But we liav^ 
 no absolute proof against him yet We must have 
 proof that nobody can doubt." 
 
 "I reckon. And ll likely have to wait till we re 
 gray." 
 
 "I don t think so. My guess is that he s right 
 near the end of his rope. We re going to make a 
 clean-up soon as I get solid on my feet." 
 
 "And Phil ? What if we catch him in the gather, 
 and find him wearing the bad-man brand?" 
 
 Keller s eyes met those of his friend. "There 
 never was a rodeo where some cattle didn t sHp 
 through unnoticed, Jim." 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 SURRENDER 
 
 The weeks slipped away and brought with them 
 healing to the wounded man at Seven Mile. He 
 moved from the bed where at first he had spent his 
 days to a lounge in the living room, and there, from 
 the bay window, he could look out at the varied life 
 of the cattle country. Men came and went in the 
 dust of the drag drive, their approach heralded by 
 the bawl of thirsty cattle. Others cantered up and 
 bought tobacco and canned goods. The stage ar 
 rived twice a week with its sack of mail, and al 
 ways when it did Public Opinion gathered upon the 
 porch of the store, as of yore. Phil Sanderson he 
 saw often, Yeager sometimes, and once or twice 
 he caught a glimpse of Healy s saturnine face. 
 
 A scarcity of beef and a sharp rise in prices 
 brought the round-up earlier than usual. Every 
 spare man was called upon to help comb the hills for 
 the wild steers that ran the wooded water-sheds, as 
 untamed as the deer and the lynx. Even the store 
 keeper, Benwell, was pressed into the service. Ras- 
 tus and the nester were the only men about the 
 
 276 
 
MAVERICKS 277 
 
 place, the deputy sheriff having been recalled to 
 Noches on the collapse of Healy s story. 
 
 The removal to a distance of the rest of her ad 
 mirers did not have the effect of throwing Keller 
 alone with Phyllis more often. The young mis 
 tress of the ranch invited Bess Purdy to visit her, 
 and now he never saw her except in the presence of 
 her other guest. 
 
 Bess took him in at once, evidencing her approval 
 of him by entering upon a spirited war of repartee 
 with him. She had not been in the house twenty- 
 four hours before she had unbosomed herself of a 
 derisive confidence. 
 
 "I don t believe you re a bank robber, at all! I 
 don t believe you are even a rustler! You re a 
 false alarm!" 
 
 Both Keller and Miss Sanderson smiled at the 
 daring of the girl s challenge. But the former de 
 fended himself with apparent heat. 
 
 "What makes you think so? Why should you 
 undermine my reputation with such an assertion? 
 You can t talk that way about me without proving 
 it, Miss Purdy." 
 
 "Well, I don t. You don t look it." 
 
 "I can t help that. You ask Mr. Healy. He ll 
 tell you I am." 
 
 "You ll need a better witness than Brill before 
 I ll believe it." 
 
 "And I thought you were going to like me," he 
 lamented. 
 
278 MAVERICKS 
 
 "I like a lot of people who aren t ruffians, but of 
 course I can t admire you so much as if you were a 
 really truly bad man." 
 
 "But if I promise to be one?" 
 
 "Oh, anybody can promise/ she flung back, eyes 
 bubbling with laughter. 
 
 "Wait till I get on my feet again." 
 
 A youth galloped up to the house in a cloud of 
 alkali dust 
 
 "There s Cuffs," announced Phyllis, smiling at 
 Bess. 
 
 That young woman blushed a little, supposed, 
 aloud, she must go out to see him, and withdrew 
 in seeming reluctance. 
 
 "He wants Bess to go with him to the Frying 
 Pan dance. He sent a note over from the round 
 up to ask her. She hasn t had a chance yet to tell 
 him that she would/ explained her friend. 
 
 "How will he take her?" asked the nester, his 
 eyes quickening. 
 
 "In the surrey, I suppose. Why?" 
 
 "The surrey will hold four." 
 
 She made no pretense of not understanding. Her 
 3 _ook met his in a betrayal of the pleasure his invi 
 tation gave her. Yet she shook her head. 
 
 "No, thank you." 
 
 "But whyif I may ask?" 
 
 "Ah! But you mayn t," she smiled. 
 
 He considered that. "You like to dance." 
 
 "Most girls do." 
 
MAVERICKS 279 
 
 "Then it is because of me," he soliloquized aloud. 
 
 "Please," she begged lightly. 
 
 "My reputation, I suppose." 
 
 She began to roll up the embroidery upon which 
 she was busy. But he got to the door before her. 
 
 "No, you don t." 
 
 "You are not going to make me tell you why I 
 can t go with you, are you?" 
 
 "That, to start with. Then I m going to make 
 you tell me some other things." 
 
 "But if I don t want to tell?" Her eyes were 
 wide open with surprise, for he had never before 
 taken the masterful line with her. Deep down, 
 she liked it ; but she had no intention of letting him 
 know so. 
 
 "There are times not to tell, and there are times 
 to tell. This will be one of the last kind, Phyllis." 
 
 She tried mockery. "When you throw a big 
 chest like that I suppose you always get what you 
 want." 
 
 "You act right funny, girl. I never see you 
 alone any more. We haven t had a good talk for 
 more than a week. Now, why?" 
 
 She thought of telling him she had been too busy ; 
 ^then, moved by an impulse of impatience, met his 
 gaze fully, and told him part of the truth. 
 
 "I should think you would understand that a girl 
 has to be careful of what she does!" 
 
 "You mean about us being friends?" 
 
280 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Oh, we can be friends, but If you can t 
 
 see it, then I can t tell you/ she finished. 
 
 "I can see it, I reckon. You saved my life, and 
 I expect some human cat got his claws out and 
 said it was because you were fond of me. 
 
 "Then you saved it again by your nursing. No 
 two ways about that. Doc Brown says you and 
 Jim did. I was so sick folks knew it had to be. 
 But now I m getting well, you have to show them 
 you re not interested in me. Isn t that about it ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "But you don t have to show me, too, do you?" 
 
 "Am I not courteous?" 
 
 "I ain t worrying any about your courtesy. But, 
 look here, Phyllie. Have you forgotten what hap- 
 pened in the kitchen that night you helped me to 
 escape ?" 
 
 She flashed him one look of indignant reproach. 
 "I should think you would be the last person in the 
 world to remind me of it." 
 
 "I ve got a right to mention it because I ve asked 
 you a question since that ain t been answered. That 
 week s been up ten days." 
 
 "I m not going to answer it now." 
 
 And with that she slipped past him and from the 
 room. 
 
 He ran a hand through his curls and voiced his 
 perplexity. "Now, if a woman ain t the strangest 
 ever. Just as a fellow is ready to tell her things, 
 she gets mad and hikes." 
 
MAVERICKS 281 
 
 Nevertheless he smiled, not uncheer fully. What 
 experience he had had with young 1 women told him 
 the signs were not hopeless for his success. He 
 was not sure of her, not by a good deal. He had 
 captured her imagination. But to win a girl s 
 fancy is not the same as to storm her heart. He 
 often caught himself wondering just where he stood 
 with her. For himself, he knew he was fathoms 
 deep in love. 
 
 She was in his thoughts when he fell asleep. 
 
 He awoke in the darkness, and sat upright in the 
 bed, a feeling of calamity oppressing him. Some 
 thing pungent tickled his nostrils. 
 
 A faint crackling sounded in the air. 
 
 Swiftly he slipped on such clothes as he needed 
 and stepped into the passage. A heavy smoke was 
 pouring up the back stairway. He knocked in 
 sistently upon the door where Phyllis and her guest 
 were sleeping. 
 
 "What is it ?" a voice demanded. 
 
 "Get up and dress, Miss Sanderson! The house 
 is on fire! You have plenty of time, I think. If 
 there s any hurry I ll let you know after I ve 
 looked." 
 
 He went down the front stairs and found that 
 the fire was in the back part of the house. Already 
 volumes of smoke with spitting tongues of flame 
 were reaching toward the foot of the stairs. He 
 ran up to the room where the girls were dressing, 
 and called to them: 
 
282 MAVERICKS 
 
 " ""9 
 
 "Are you ready?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The door opened, to show him two very pale 
 girls, each carrying a bundle of clothes. They 
 were only partially dressed, but wrappers covered: 
 their disarray. Keller went to the clothes closet, 
 emptied it with a sweep and lift of his arm, and 
 returned, to lead the way downstairs. 
 
 "Take a breath before you start. The smoke s 
 bad, but there is no real danger," he told them as 
 he plunged forward. 
 
 At the foot of the stairs he stopped to see that 
 they were following him closely, then flung open 
 the outer door and let in a rush of cool, sweet air. 
 In another moment they were outside, safe and 
 unhurt. 
 
 Phyllis drew a long breath before she said : 
 
 "The house is gone!" 
 
 "If there is anything you want particularly from 
 the living room I can get in through the window," 
 Keller told her. 
 
 She shuddered. Flame jets were already shoot 
 ing out here and there. "I wouldn t let you go 
 back for the world. We didn t get out too soon/ 
 
 "No," he agreed. 
 
 A sniveling voice behind them broke in : "Where 
 is Mr. PhiJ ? I yain t seen him yet" 
 
 Larrabie swung round on Rastus like a flash. 
 "What do you mean? He s at the round-up, of 
 course." 
 
MAVERICKS 283 
 
 The little fellow began to bawl : "No, sah. He 
 done come home late last night. Aftah you-all had 
 gone to bed. He s in his room, tha s where he is." 
 
 Phyllis caught at the arm of Keller to steady her. 
 She was colorless to the lips. 
 
 "Oh, God! Oh, God!" she cried faintly. 
 
 The nester pushed her gently into the arms of her 
 guest. 
 
 "Take care of her, Bess. I ll get PhiL" 
 
 He ran round the house to the back. The bed 
 room occupied by young Sanderson was on the 
 first floor. The ranger caught up a stick, smashed 
 the window, and tore out the frame by main 
 strength. Presently he was inside, groping through 
 the dense smoke toward the bed. 
 
 Flames leaped at him from out of it like darting 
 serpents. His hair, his face, his clothes, caught 
 fire before he had discovered that the bed had been 
 used, but was now empty. The door into the hall 
 was open, and through it were pouring billows of 
 smoke. Evidently Phil must have tried to escape 
 that way and been overpowered. 
 
 The young man caught up a towel and wrapped 
 it around his throat and mouth, then plunged for 
 ward into the caldron of the passage. The smoke 
 choked him and the intense heat peeled his face 
 and made the endurance of it an agony. 
 
 He stumbled over something soft, and discovered 
 with his hands that it was a body. Smothered and 
 
884 MAVERICKS 
 
 choked, half frantic with the heat, he struggled 
 back into the bedroom with his burden. 
 
 Somehow he reached the window, stumbled 
 through it, and dragged the inanimate body after 
 him. Then, with Phil in his arms, he reeled for 
 ward into the fresh air beyond. 
 
 With a cry Phyllis broke from Bess and ran 
 toward him. But before she had reached the res 
 cuer and the rescued, Keller went down in total 
 collapse. He, too, was unconscious when she knelt 
 beside him and began with her hands to crush out 
 the smoldering fire in his clothes. 
 
 He opened his eyes and smiled faintly whek "he 
 saw who it was, 
 
 "How s the boy?" he asked. 
 
 "He is breathing," cried Bess joyfully, from 
 where she was bending over Sanderson. 
 
 "You go attend to him. I m all right now." 
 
 "Are you truly?" 
 
 "Truly." 
 
 He proved it by sitting up, and presently by ris 
 ing and joining with her the group gathered 
 around Phil. For Aunt Becky had now emerged 
 from her cabin and taken charge of affairs. 
 
 Phil was supported to the bunk house and put to 
 bed by Keller and Rastus. It was already plain 
 that he would be none the worse for his adventure 
 after a night s good sleep. Aunt Becky applied to 
 his case the homely remedies she had used before, 
 while the others stood around the bed and helped as 
 
MAVERICKS 285 
 
 best they could. Strangely enough, he was not 
 burned at all. In this he had escaped better than 
 Keller, whose hair and eyebrows and skin were all 
 the worse for singeing. 
 
 The nester noticed that Phyllis, in handing a 
 bowl of water to Bess, used awkwardly her left 
 hand. The right one, he observed, was held with 
 the palm concealed against the folds of her skirt. 
 
 Presently Phyllis, her anxiety as to Phil re 
 lieved, left Aunt Becky and Bess to care for him, 
 while she went out to make arrangements for dis 
 posing of the party until morning. The nester fol 
 lowed her into the night and walked beside her 
 toward the house of the foreman. The darkness 
 was lit up luridly by the shooting flames of the 
 burning house. 
 
 "The store isn t going to catch fire. That s one 
 good thing," Keller observed, by way of comfort. 
 
 "Yes." There was a catch in her voice, for all 
 the little treasures of her girlhood, gathered from 
 time to time, were going up in smoke. 
 
 "You re insured, I reckon?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, it might be worse." 
 
 She thought of the narrow escape Phil had had v 
 and nodded. 
 
 "You ll have to sleep in the bunk house. Take 
 any of the beds you like. Bess and I will put up 
 \t the foreman s," she explained. 
 
 As is the custom among bachelors who attend 
 
286 MAVERICKS 
 
 to their own domestic affairs, they found the bed 
 just as the foreman had stepped out of it tw 
 weeks before. While Keller held the lantern, Phyl 
 lis made it up, and again he saw that she was using 1 
 her right hand very carefully and flinching when it 
 touched the blankets. Putting the lantern down 
 on the table, he walked up to her. 
 
 "I ll make the bed." 
 
 She stepped back, with a little laugh. "All right/ 
 
 He made it, then turned to her at once. 
 
 "I want to see your hand/ 
 
 She gave him the left one, even as he had done 
 on the occasion of their second meeting. He took 
 it, and kept it. 
 
 "Now the other." 
 
 "What do you want with it? 5> 
 
 "Never mind." He reached down and drew it 
 from the folds of her skirt, where it had again 
 fallen. Very gently he turned it so that the palm 
 was up. Ugly blisters and a red seam showed 
 where she had burned herself. He looked at her 
 without speaking. 
 
 "It s nothing/ she told him, a little hysterically. 
 
 For an instant her mind flashed back to the time^ 
 when Buck Weaver had drawn the cactus spines^ 
 out of that same hand. 
 
 His voice was rough with feeling. "I can see it 
 isn t. And you got it for me putting out the fire 
 ni my clothes. I reckon I cayn t thank you, you 
 
MAVERICKS 287 
 
 poor little tortured hand." He lifted the fingers 
 to his lips and kissed them. 
 
 "Don t," she cried brokenly. 
 
 "Has it got to be this way always, Phyllie you 
 giving and me taking?" His hand tightened on 
 hers ever so slightly, and a spasm of pain shot 
 across her face. He looked at the burned ringers 
 again tenderly. "Does it hurt pretty bad, girl?" 
 
 "I wish it was ten times as bad !" she broke out, 
 with a sob. "You saved Phil s life at the risk 
 of your own. I wish I could tell you how I feel, 
 what I think of you, how splendid you are." In 
 default of which ability, she began to cry softly. 
 
 He wasted no more time. He did not ask her 
 whether he might. With a gesture, his arm went 
 around her and drew her to him. 
 
 "Let me tell what I think of you, instead, girl o 
 mine. I cayn t tell it, either, for that matter, but 
 I reckon I can make out to show you, honey." 
 
 "I didn t mean that way," she protested, be 
 tween laughter and tears. 
 
 "Well, that s the way I mean." 
 
 Neither spoke again for a minute. Than: "Do 
 >you really love me?" she murmured. 
 
 "What do you think?" He laughed with the 
 sheer unconquerable boyish delight in her. 
 
 "I think you re pretending right well," she 
 smiled. 
 
 "If I am making believe." 
 
288 MAVERICKS 
 
 "If you are." Her arms slipped round his necK 
 with a swift impulse of love. "But you re not. Tell 
 me you re not, Larry. " 
 
 He told her, in the wordless way lovers have at 
 command, the way that is more convincing than 
 speech. 
 
 So Phyllis, from the troubled waters of doubt, 
 came at last to safe harborage. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 AT THE RODEO 
 
 There vas an exodus from Seven Mile the sec 
 ond day after the fire. Keller went up Bear Creek, 
 Phyllis accepted the invitation of Bess to stay with 
 her at the Fiddleback, and her brother returned to 
 the round-up. 
 
 The riders were now combing the Lost Creek 
 watershed. Phil knew the camp would be either at 
 Peaceful Valley or higher up, near the headwaters 
 of the creek. Before he reached the valley the 
 steady bawl of cattle told him that the outfit was 
 camped there. He topped the ridge and looked 
 down upon Cattleland at its busiest. Just below 
 him was the remuda, the ponies grazing slowly 
 toward the hills under the care of three half -grown 
 boys. 
 
 Beyond were the herded cattle. Here all was 
 activity. Within the fence of riders surrounding 
 the wild creatures the cutting out and the branding 
 were being pushed rapidly forward. Occasionally 
 some leggy steer, tail up and feet pounding, would 
 make a dash to break the cordon. Instantly one 
 
 289 
 
290 MAVERICKS 
 
 of the riders would wheel in chase, head off the 
 animal, and drive it back. 
 
 Brill Healy, boss of the rodeo by election, was in 
 charge. He was an expert handler of cattle, one 
 of the best in the country. It was his nature to 
 seek the limelight, though it must be said for him 
 that he rose to his responsibilities. The owners 
 knew that when he was running the round-up few 
 cattle would slip through the net he wound around 
 them. 
 
 "Hello, Brill!" shouted the young man as he 
 rode up. 
 
 "Hello, son! Too bad about the fire. I ll want 
 to hear about it later. Looking for a job?" he 
 flung hurriedly over his shoulder. For he had not 
 even a minute to spare. 
 
 "I reckon." 
 
 Phil did not wait to be assigned work, but joined 
 the calf branders. 
 
 Not until night had fallen and they were gath 
 ered round in a semicircle leaning against their 
 saddles did Phil find time to tell the story of the 
 fire. There was some haphazard comment when he 
 had finished, after which Slim spoke. 
 
 "So the nester hauled you out. Ce tainly looks 
 like he s plumb game. You said he was afire when 
 he got you into the open, didn t you, Phil?" 
 
 The boy nodded. "And all in. He fainted right 
 away." 
 
 "With him still burning away like tfae doctor * 
 
MAVERICKS 291 
 
 fire there," murmured Healy ironically, with a slight 
 gesture toward the cook. 
 
 Phil looked at him angrily. "I didn t say that 
 Some one put the fire out." 
 
 "Oh, some one! Might a man ask who?" 
 
 Phil had not had any intention of telling, but he 
 found himself letting Healy have it straight. 
 
 "Phyllis." 
 
 "About what I thought!" Healy said it signifi 
 cantly, and with a malice that overrode his dis 
 cretion. 
 
 "What do you mean?" demanded the boy fiercely.. 
 
 "I ain t said anything, have I ?" Healy came back 
 smoothly. 
 
 Yeager s quiet voice broke the silence that fol 
 lowed, while Phil was trying to voice the resent 
 ment in him. 
 
 "You mean what we re all thinking, Brill, I 
 reckon that she is the sort to forget herself when 
 somebody needs her help. Ain t that it?" 
 
 The eyes of the two met steadily in a clash of 
 wills. Healy s gave way for the time, not because 
 he was mastered, but because he did not wish to 
 alienate the rough, but fair-minded, men sitting 
 around. 
 
 "You re mighty good at explaining me to the 
 boys, Jim. I expect that is what I mean/ he an 
 swered sullenly. 
 
 "Sure," put in Purdy, with amiable intent. 
 
 "But when it comes to Mr. Keller I can explain 
 
292 MAVERICKS 
 
 myself tol able well. I don t need any help there, 
 Jim, not even if he is yore best friend." 
 
 "If you ve got anything to say against him, I ll 
 ask you to say it when I m not around," broke in 
 Phil. "You ll recollect, please, that he s my friend s 
 too." 
 
 "That so? Since when, Phil?" the rodeo boss 
 retorted sarcastically. 
 
 "Since he went into the fire after me and saved 
 my life. Think I m a coyote to round on him? I 
 tell you he s a white man clear through. In my 
 opinion, he s neither a rustler nor a bank robber." 
 He was flushed and excited, but his gaze met that 
 of his former friend and challenged him defiantly. 
 
 Healy s eyes narrowed. He gazed at the boy 
 darkly, as if he meant to read him through and 
 through. For years he had dominated Phil, had 
 shaped him to his ends, had led him into wild, law 
 less courses after him. Now the anchors were 
 dragging. He was losing control of him. He re 
 solved to turn the screws on him, but not at this 
 time and place. 
 
 "I ve always been considered a full-grown man, 
 Phil. What I think I aim to say out loud when the 
 ! notion hits me. That being so, I go on record as 
 having an opinion about Keller. You think he s on 
 the square, and you give him a whitewashed certifi 
 cate as a bony-fidy Sunday-school scholar. 
 
 "Different here. I think him a coyote and a 
 crook, and so I say it right out in meeting. Any 
 
MAVERICKS 293 
 
 objections?" The gaze of the boss shifted from 
 Sanderson to Yeager, and fastened. 
 
 "None in the world. You think what you like, 
 Brill, and we ll stick to our opinions," Yeager re 
 plied cheerfully. 
 
 "And when I get good and ready I ll act on 
 mine," Healy replied with an evil grin. 
 
 "If you find it right convenient. I expect Kel 
 ler ain t exactly a wooden cigar Indian. Maybe 
 he ll have a say-so in what s doing," suggested 
 Yeager. 
 
 "About as much as he had last time," sneered the 
 round-up boss. With which he rose, stretched him 
 self, and gave orders. "Time to turn in, boys. 
 We re combing Old Baldy to-morrow, remember." 
 
 "And Old Baldy s sure a holy terror," admitted 
 Slim. 
 
 "Come three more days and we d ought to be 
 through. I m not going to grieve any when we 
 are. This high life don t suit me too durned well," 
 put in Benwell. 
 
 "Yet when you come here first you was a right 
 skk man, Tom. Now, you re some healthy. Don t 
 that prove the outside of a hawss is good for the in 
 side of a man, like the docs say?" grinned Purdy. 
 
 "Tom s notion of real living is sassiety with a 
 capital S," explained Cuffs. "You watch him cut 
 ice at the Frying Pan dance next week. He ll be 
 the real-thing lady-killer. All you lads going, I 
 reckon. How about you, Jim?" 
 
 Yeager said he expected to be there. 
 
294 MAVERICKS 
 
 "With yore friend the rustler? * asked Healy in 
 solently over his shoulder. 
 
 "I haven t got any friend that s a rustler." 
 
 "I m speaking of Mr. Larrabie Keller." There 
 was a slurring inflection on the prefix. 
 
 "He ll be there, I shouldn t wonder." 
 
 "I d wonder a heap," retorted Healy. "You ll 
 see he won t show his face there." 
 
 "That s where you re wrong, Brill. He told me 
 he was going," spoke up Phil triumphantly. 
 
 "We ll see. He s wise to the fact that this coun 
 try knows him for an out-and-out crook. He ll stay 
 in his hole." 
 
 "You going, Slim?" asked Purdy amiably, to 
 turn the conversation into a more pacific channel. 
 
 "Sure," answered that young giant, getting laz 
 ily to his feet. "Well, sons, the boss is right. 
 Time to pound our ears." 
 
 They rolled themselves in their blankets, the 
 starry sky roofing their bedroom. Within five min 
 utes every man of them was asleep except the night 
 herders and one other. 
 
 Healy lay a little apart from the rest, partially 
 ^screened by some boxes of provisions and a couple 
 l bf sacks of flour. His jaw was clamped tight. He 
 looked into the deep velvet sky without seeing. For 
 a long time he did not move. Then, noiselessly, he 
 sat up, glanced around carefully to make sure he 
 was not observed, rose, and stole into the darkness, 
 carrying with him his saddle and bridle. 
 
MAVERICKS 295 
 
 One of his ponies was hobbled in the mesquite. 
 Swiftly he saddled. Leading the animal very care 
 fully so as to avoid rustling the brush, he zigzagged 
 from the camp until he had reached a safe distance. 
 Here he swung himself on and rode into the blur of 
 night, at first cautiously, but later with swift-pound 
 ing hoofs. He went toward the northwest in a bee 
 line without hesitation or doubt. Only when the lie 
 of the ground forced a detour did he vary his di 
 rection. 
 
 So for hours he travelled until he reached a canon 
 in which squatted a little log cabin, He let his voice 
 out in the howl of a coyote before he dismounted. 
 No answer came, save the echo from the cliff op 
 posite. Again that mournful call sounded, and this 
 time from the cabin found an answer. 
 
 A man came sleepily to the door and peered out. 
 "Hello! That you, Brill?" 
 
 Healy swung off, trailed his rein, and followed 
 the man into the cabin. "Don t light up, Tom. No 
 need." 
 
 For ten minutes they talked in low tones. Healy 
 emerged from the cabin, remounted, and rode back 
 to the cow camp. He reached it just as the first 
 faint streaks of gray tinged the eastern sky. 
 
 Silently he unsaddled, hobbled his pony, and car 
 ried his saddle back to the place where he had been 
 lying. Once more he lay down, glanced cautiously 
 round to see all was quiet, and fell asleep as soon as 
 his head touched the saddle. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 MISSING 
 
 From all over the Malpais country, from the wa 
 tersheds where Bear and Elk and Cow creeks head, 
 from the halfway house far out in the desert where 
 the stage changes horses, men and women dribbled 
 to the Frying Pan for the big dance after the round 
 up. Great were the preparations. Many cakes and 
 pies and piles of sandwiches had been made ready. 
 Also there was a wash boiler full of coffee and a 
 galvanized tub brimming with lemonade. For the 
 Frying Pan was doing itself proud. 
 
 Phil and his sister drove over together. The boy 
 had asked Bess to go with him, but Cuffs had beaten 
 him to it. The distance was only twenty-five miles, 
 a neighborly stroll in that country of wide spaces 
 and desert stretches filled with absentees. 
 
 When Phyllis came into the big room where the 
 dancing was in progress, her dark eye swept the 
 room without finding him for whom she looked. 
 There were many there she knew, not more than 
 two or three whom she had never met, but among 
 them all she looked at none who was a magnet for 
 her eyes. Keller had not yet arrived. 
 
 296 
 
MAVERICKS 297 
 
 Before she had taken her seat she had three en 
 gagements to dance, Jim Yeager had waylaid her ; 
 so, too, had Slim and Curly. She waltzed first with 
 Phil, and after he had done his duty he left her to 
 the besiegings of half a score of riders for various 
 ranches who came and went and came again. She 
 joked with them, joined the merry banter that went 
 on, laughed at them when they grew sentimental, 
 always with a sprightly devotion to the matter in 
 hand 
 
 Nevertheless, though they did not know it, her 
 mind was full of him who had not yet appeared. 
 Why was he late? Could he have missed the way 
 by any chance? And later as the hours passed 
 without bringing him could anything have hap 
 pened to him? More than once her troubled gaze 
 fell upon Brill Healy with a brooding question in it. 
 The man had received only the day before his party s 
 nomination for sheriff, and he was doing the gra 
 cious to all the women and children. 
 
 He had many of the qualities that make for popu 
 larity, even though he was often overbearing, re 
 vengeful, and sullen. When he chose he could be 
 hail fellow well met in a way Malpais found flatter 
 ing to its vanity. Now he was apparently having 
 the time of his life. Wherever he moved an eddy 
 of laughter and gayety went with him. The eyes of 
 men as well as women admiringly followed his dark, 
 lithe, picturesque figure. 
 
 Phyllis had declined to dance with him, giving as 
 
298 MAVERICKS 
 
 an excuse a full programme, and for an instant his 
 face had blazed with the suppressed rage in him. 
 He had bowed and swaggered away with a malicious 
 sneer. Her judgment told her it was folly to con 
 nect this man with the absence of her lover, but that 
 look of malevolent triumph had none the less shaken 
 her heart. What had he meant? It seemed less a 
 threat for the future than a gloating over some evil 
 already done. 
 
 When she could endure them no longer she car 
 ried her fears to Jim Yeager. They were dancing, 
 but she made an excuse of fatigue to drop out. 
 
 "First time I ever knew you to play out at a 
 dance, Phyl," he rallied her. 
 
 "It isn t that. I want to say something to you," 
 she whispered. 
 
 He had a guess what it was, for his own mind was 
 not quite easy. 
 
 "Do you think anything could have happened, 
 Jim?" she besought pitifully when for a moment 
 they were alone in a corner. 
 
 "What could have happened, Phyllie? Do you 
 reckon he fell off his hawss, and him a full-size 
 man?" he scoffed. 
 
 "Yes, but you don t know how Brill looked at 
 me. I m afraid." 
 
 "Oh, Brill !" His voice held an edge of scorn, but 
 none the less it concealed a real fear. He was mak 
 ing as much concession to it as to her when he 
 added lightly: "Tell you what I ll do, Phyl. I ll 
 
MAVERICKS 299 
 
 saddle up and take a look back over the Bear Creek 
 trail. Likely I ll meet him, and we ll come in to 
 gether." 
 
 Her eyes met his, and he needed no other thanks, 
 "You ll lose the dance," was her only comment. 
 
 Jim followed the road until it branched off to 
 join the Bear Creek trail. Here he deflected toward 
 the mountains, taking the zigzag path that ran like 
 a winding thread among the rocks as it mounted. 
 Now for the first time there came to him the faint 
 rhythmic sound of a galloping horse s hoofs. He 
 did not stop, and as he picked his way among the 
 rocks he heard for some time no more of it. 
 
 "Mr. Hurry-up-like-hell kept the road, I reckon," 
 Jim ruminated aloud, and even as he spoke he caught 
 again the echo of an iron shoe striking a rock. 
 
 He stopped and listened. Some one was climb 
 ing the trail behind him. 
 
 "Mebbe he s a friend, and then mebbe he isn t. 
 We ll let him have the whole road to himself, eh, 
 Keno?" 
 
 Yeager guided his pony to the left, and took up a 
 position behind some huge bowlders from whence he 
 could see without being seen. The pursuer toiled 
 into sight, a slim, wiry youth on a buckskin. He 
 came forward out of the shadows into the fretted 
 moonlight. 
 
 Yeager gave a glad whoop of recognition. "Hi- 
 yi, Phil!" 
 
200 MAVERICKS 
 
 "You re there, are you ? Did I scare you off the 
 trail, Jim?" 
 
 "That s whatever, boy. What are you doing 
 here?" 
 
 "Sis sent me. She got worried again, and we fig 
 ured I d better join you." 
 
 "I reckon there s nothing serious the matter. Still, 
 it ain t like Larry to say he would come and then not 
 show up." 
 
 "Brill is back there bragging about it." Phil nod 
 ded his head toward the lights of the Frying Pan 
 glimmering far below. "Says he knew the waddy 
 wouldn t show his head. You don t reckon, Jim, 
 he s turned a trick on Keller, do you?" 
 
 "That s what we have got to find out, Phil." 
 
 "Looks funny he d be so durned sure when we all 
 know how game Keller is," the boy reflected aloud. 
 
 "I don t expect you re armed, Phil?" Jim put 
 the statement as a question. 
 
 "Nope. Are you?" 
 
 "No, I ain t. Didn t think of it when I started. 
 Oh, well, we ll make out. Like enough there will be 
 no need of guns." 
 
 A gray light was sifting into the sky, and still 
 they rode, winding up toward the peaks of the di 
 vide. Jim, leading the way, drew rein and pointed 
 to a cactus bush beside the trail. Among its spines 
 lay a gray felt hat. From it his eye wandered to 
 the very evident signs of a struggle that had taken 
 place. Moss and cactus had been trampled down by 
 
MAVERICKS 301 
 
 boot heels. To the cholla hung here and there 
 scraps of cloth. A blood splash stared at them from 
 an outcropping slope of rock. 
 
 Jim swung from the saddle and rescued the hat 
 from the spines. Inside the sweat band were the 
 initials L. K. Silently he handed the hat to Phil. 
 
 "It s his hat/ the boy cried. 
 
 "It s his hat," Jim agreed. "They must have laid 
 for him here. He put up a good scrap. Notice 
 how that cholla is cut to ribbons. Point is, what 
 did they do to him ?" 
 
 They searched the ground thoroughly, and dis 
 covered no body hidden in the brush. 
 
 They ve taken him away. Likely he s alive," 
 Yeager decided aloud at last. 
 
 "Brill couldn t have been in this. He was at the 
 Frying Pan before I was." 
 
 "I reckon he ordered it done. If that s correct 
 they will be holding Larry till Brill gets there to give 
 further orders." 
 
 Phil entered an objection. "That doesn t look to 
 me like Brill s way. He s not scared of any man 
 that lives. When he squares accounts with Keller 
 he ll be on the job himself." 
 
 "That s so, too," admitted Yeager. "Still, I figure 
 this is Healy s work. Maybe he gave out there was 
 to be no killing. He was at the ranch himself, big 
 as coffee, so as to be sure of his alibi." 
 
 "What does he care about an alibi? When he 
 gets ready to go gunnin after Kel/er he won t care 
 
302 MAVERICKS 
 
 if the whole Malpais sees him. There s something 
 in this I don t sabe." 
 
 "There sure is. We ve got to run the thing down 
 muy pronto. No use both of us going ahead without 
 arms, Phil. My notion is this: You burn a shuck 
 back to the Frying Pan and round up some of our 
 friends on the q. t. Don t let Brill get a notion or 
 what s in the air. Better make straight for Greg 
 ory s Pass. I m going to follow this trail we ve cut 
 and see what s doing. Once I find out I ll double 
 back to the Pass and meet you. Bring along an 
 extra gun for me." 
 
 "I don t reckon I will, Jim. What s the matter 
 with me going on instead of you ? I can follow this 
 trail good as you can. I announce right here that 
 I m not going back. I ve got first call on this job. 
 Keller went into the fire after me. I m going to 
 follow this trail to hell if I have to." 
 
 Yeager tried persuasion, argument, appeal. The 
 lad was as fixed as Gibraltar. 
 
 "I m not going to go buttin in where I m not 
 wanted any more than you would, Jim. I ll play this 
 hand out with a cool head, but I m going to play it 
 my ownself." 
 
 "All right. It s your say-so. I ll admit you ve 
 got a claim. But you want to remember one thing 
 if anything happens to you I cayn t square it with 
 Phyl. Go slow, boy!" 
 
 Without more words they parted, Jim to ride 
 swiftly back for help, and young Sanderson to push 
 
MAVERICKS 303 
 
 on up the trail with his eyes glued to it. Ever since 
 he could swing himself to a saddle he had been a 
 vaquero in the cow country. 
 
 He was therefore an expert at reading the signs 
 left by travellers. What would have been invisible 
 to a tenderfoot offered evidence to him as plain as 
 the print on a primer. Mile after mile he covered 
 with a minute scrutiny that never wavered. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 LARRY TELLS A BEAR STORY 
 
 Keller rode blithely down the piney trail while 
 the sun flung its brilliant good-bye over the crotch of 
 the mountains behind which it was slipping. The 
 western sky was a Turner sublimated to the nth de 
 gree, a thing magnificent and indescribable. The 
 young man rode with his crisp curls bared to the 
 light, grateful breeze that came like healing from the 
 great peaks. From the joyous, unquenchable youth 
 in him bubbled snatches of song and friendly smiles 
 scattered broadcast over a world that pleased him 
 mightily. 
 
 He was going to see his girl, going down to the 
 Frying Pan to take her in his arms and whirl her 
 into the land of romance to the rhythm of the 
 waltz. He wanted to shout it out to the chipmunks 
 and the quails. Ever and again he broke out with a 
 line or two of a melody he had heard once from a 
 phonograph. No matter if he did not get the words 
 exactly. He was sure of the sentiment. So the hills 
 flung back his lusty: 
 
 "I love a lassie, 
 A bonnie Hieland lassie, 
 She s as pure as the lily of the dell." 
 304* 
 
MAVERICKS 305 
 
 Disaster fell upon him like a bolt out of a June 
 sky. His pony stumbled, went down heavily with its 
 weight on his leg. From the darkness men surged 
 upon him. Rough hands dragged at him. The butt 
 of a weapon crashed down on his hat and stunned 
 him. 
 
 He became dimly aware that his leg was free from 
 the horse, that he was struggling blindly to rise 
 against the force that clamped him down. He knew 
 that he reached his feet, that he was lashing out 
 furiously with both hands, that even as he grappled 
 with one assailant a gleam of steel flashed across the 
 moonlight and shot through him with a zigzag pain 
 that blotted out the world. 
 
 As his mind swam back to consciousness through 
 troubled waters a far-away voice came out of the 
 fog that surrounded him. 
 
 "He s coming to, looks like. I reckon you ain t 
 bust his head, after all, Brad." 
 
 Vague, grinning gargoyles mocked him from the 
 haze. Slowly these took form. Features stood out. 
 The masks became faces. They no longer floated 
 detached in space, but belonged definitely to human 
 beings. 
 
 "It ain t our fault if you re stove up some, pard- 
 ner. You re too durned anxious to whip yore 
 weight in wildcats," one of the men grinned. 
 
 "Right you are, Tom. He shore hits like a kick 
 ing mule," chimed in a third, nursing a cheek that 
 had been cut open to the bone. 
 
306 MAVERICKS 
 
 A fourth spoke up, a leather-faced vaquero with 
 hard eyes of jade. "No hard feelings, friend. All 
 in the way of business/ With which he gave a final 
 tug at the knot that tied the hands of his prisoner. 
 
 "I ve got Mr. Healy to thank for this, I expect/* 
 commented the nester quietly. 
 
 "We ve got no rope on yore expectations, Mr. 
 Keller; but this outfit doesn t run any information 
 bureau/ answered the heavy-set, sullen fellow who 
 had been called Brad. 
 
 There were four of them, all masked; but the 
 ranger was sure of one of them, if not two. The 
 first speaker had been Tom Dixon ; the last one was 
 Brad Irwin, a rider belonging to the Twin Star out 
 fit. 
 
 They helped the bound man to his horse and held 
 a low-voiced consultation. Three of his captors 
 turned their horses toward the south, while Irwin 
 took charge of Keller. With his rifle resting across 
 the horn of his saddle, the man followed his charge 
 up the trail, winding among the summits that stood 
 as sentinels around Gregory s Pass. Through the 
 defile they went, descending into the little-known 
 mountain parks beyond. 
 
 This region was the heart of the watershed where 
 Little Goose Creek heads. The peaks rose gaunt 
 above them. Occasionally they glimpsed wide vistas 
 of tangled, wooded canons and hills innumerable as 
 sea billows. Into this maze they plunged ever deeper 
 and deeper. Daylight came, and found them still 
 
MAVERICKS 307 
 
 travelling. The prisoner did not need to be told that 
 this inaccessible country was the lurking place of the 
 rustlers who had preyed so long upon the Malpais 
 district Nor did he need evidence to connect the 
 sinister figure behind him with the gang of outlaws 
 who rode in and out of these silent places on their 
 nefarious night errands while honest folks kept their 
 beds. 
 
 The sun was well up to its meridian before they 
 came through a thick clump of quaking aspens to 
 the mouth of a gulch opening from the end of a little 
 mountain park. On one of the slopes of the gulch 
 a cabin squatted, half hidden by the great boulders 
 and the matting of pine boughs in front. Here 
 Brad swung stiffly from the saddle. 
 
 "We ll light hyer," he announced. 
 
 "Time, too," returned Keller easily. "If anybody 
 asks you, tell them I usually eat breakfast some be 
 fore ten o clock." 
 
 "You ll do yore eating from now on when I give 
 the word," his guard answered surlily. 
 
 He was a big, dark man with a grouch, one who 
 took his duties sourly. Not by any stretch of im 
 agination could he be considered a brilliant conversa 
 tionalist. What he had to say he growled out audi 
 bly enough, but for the rest his opinions had to be 
 cork-screwed out of him in surly monosyllables. 
 
 There was a good deal of the cave man about 
 him. The heavy, slouching shoulders, the glare of 
 savagery, the long, hairy arms, all had their primor- 
 
808 MAVERICKS 
 
 dial suggestion. Given a club and a stone ax, he 
 might have been set back thousands of years with no 
 injustice to his mentality. 
 
 The man soon had a fire blazing in the stove, and 
 from it came a breakfast of bacon, black coffee, and 
 biscuits. He freed the hands of the nester and sat 
 opposite him at the table, a revolver by the side of 
 his plate for use in an emergency. 
 
 Keller smiled. "This is one of those fashionable 
 dinners where they have extra hardware beside the 
 plates/ he suggested. 
 
 "Get gay, and I ll blow the top of yore head off!" 
 the cow-puncher swore with gusto. 
 
 "Thanks. Under the circumstances, I reckon I ll 
 not get gay. I m in no hurry to put you in the pen, 
 seh. Plenty of time. I m going to need the top of 
 my head to testify against you." 
 
 Irwin swore violently. 
 
 "For two cents I d pump you full of holes right 
 now," he glared. 
 
 Keller laughed, meeting him eye to eye pleasantly. 
 
 "Those aren t the orders, friend. I m to be held 
 here till the boss shows up or gives the signal." 
 
 The big jaw of his captor fell from astonishment. 
 "Who told you that?" 
 
 The prisoner helped himself to more bacon and 
 laughed again. He had made a guess, but he knew 
 now that he had hit the bull s-eye with his shot in 
 the dark. 
 
 "Some things don t need telling. I don t have to 
 
MAVERICKS 309 
 
 be told, for instance, that if things get too hot for 
 Brill Healy he will slide out and leave you to settle 
 the bill with the law." 
 
 Irwin s eyes glared angrily at his smiling ones. 
 The unabashed impudence, the unfluttered aplomb, 
 but above all the uncanny prescience of this youth 
 disturbed him because he could not understand them. 
 Moreover, it happened that his suspicious mind had 
 lingered on the chance of a betrayal at the hands of 
 his chief. For which very reason he broke into an 
 gry denial. 
 
 "That s a lie ! Brill ain t that sort. He d stand 
 pat to a finish." Then, tardily, came the instinct for 
 caution. "And there s nothing to tell, anyways." he 
 finished sulkily. 
 
 "Sure. What s a little rustling and a little bank 
 robbing among friends?" Keller wanted to know 
 cheerfully. 
 
 For just an instant he thought he had gone too 
 far. The big ruffian opposite chdked over his bis^ 
 cuit, the while rage purpled his face. He caught up 
 the revolver, and his fingers itched at the trigger. 
 
 His prisoner, leaning back in the chair, held him 
 with quiet, unwavering eyes. "Steady! Steady!" 
 he drawled. 
 
 "That will be about enough from you," Irwin let 
 out through set teeth. "You padlock that mouth of 
 yours, mister." 
 
 Keller took his advice temporarily, but it was not 
 in him to long repress the spirit of adventure that 
 
310 MAVERICKS 
 
 bubbled in him. The temptation to bait this bear 
 drew him irresistibly. He could not let him alone, 
 the more that he sensed the danger to himself of 
 the prods he sent home through the thick skin. 
 
 Lying carelessly on the bed with his head on his 
 arm, or perhaps sitting astride a chair with his hands 
 crossed on the back support, he would smile with 
 childlike innocence and sent his barbs in gayly. And 
 Irwin, murder in his dull brain, would glare at him 
 like a maniac. 
 
 "Now would be a good time to blow off the top of 
 my cocoanut," the nester suggested more than once 
 to the infuriated cave man. "I m allowing, you 
 know, to send you to Yuma as soon as I get out of 
 this. Nothing like grabbing your opportunity by the 
 forelock." 
 
 "And when are you expecting to get out of here?" 
 his guard demanded huskily. 
 
 Keller waved his hand with airy persiflage. "No 
 exact information obtainable, my friend. Likely to 
 day. Maybe not till to-morrow. The one dead-sure 
 point is that I ll make my getaway at the right time." 
 
 "There s one more dead-sure point that I m go 
 ing to blow holes in you at the right time," retorted 
 the other. 
 
 "Like to bet on which of us is a true prophet ?" 
 
 Brad relapsed into black, sulky silence. 
 
 The hours followed each other, and still nobody 
 came to relieve the guard. Keller could not under- 
 
MAVERICKS 311 
 
 stand the reason for this, any more than he could 
 fathom an adequate one for his abduction. There 
 was of course something behind it something more 
 potent than mere malice. If the intention had been 
 merely to kill him, the thing could have been done 
 without all this trouble. But though he searched his 
 brain for an explanation, he could not find one that 
 satisfied. 
 
 The answer came to him later in the day. In the 
 middle of the afternoon a horse pounded up the 
 draw to the cabin. Irwin went to the door, his eye 
 still on his prisoner, except for a swift glance at the 
 newcomer. 
 
 "How s yore five-thousand-dollar beauty, Brad?" 
 inquired a voice that the nester recognized. 
 
 "Finer than silk, boss." 
 
 The rider swung from the saddle, trailed his rein, 
 and came with jingling spurs into the cabin. 
 
 "Good evening, Mr. Keller," he said with derisive 
 respect. 
 
 The nester, lying sideways on the bed with his 
 head on his hand, nodded a greeting. 
 
 "I didn t know you and Mr. Irwin had doubled 
 up and were bunkies," continued the jubilant voice. 
 "When did you-all patch up the partnership?" 
 
 "About eight o clock last night, Mr. Healy," re 
 turned the prisoner, eying him coolly. "And of 
 course I knew it would be a surprise to you when 
 you learned it." 
 
313 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Expecting to stay long with him ?" 
 
 "He seems right hospitable, but I don t reckon I ll 
 outstay my welcome." 
 
 Healy laughed, with mockery and not amusement. 
 "Brad s such a pressing host there s no telling when 
 he ll let you go." 
 
 He was as malevolent as ever, but it was plain to 
 be seen that he was riding high on a wave of tri 
 umph. Affairs were plainly going to his liking. 
 
 "The way I heard it you were expected down at 
 the Frying Pan last night. Changed yore mind about 
 going, I reckon/ he went on insolently. 
 
 "I reckon." 
 
 "Had business that detained you, maybe." 
 
 "You re a good guesser." 
 
 "Folks were right anxious down there, according 
 to the say-so that reached me." 
 
 Keller s cool eye measured him in silence, at which 
 his enemy laughed contemptuously and turned on his 
 heel. 
 
 Healy drew his confederate to one side of the 
 room and held a whispered talk with him. Appar 
 ently he did not greatly care whether his foe catight 
 the drift of it or not, for occasionally his voice 
 lifted enough so that scraps of sentences reached 
 the man lounging on the bed. 
 
 " close to two hundred head by the Mimbres 
 Pass the boys are ce tainly pushing the drive out 
 of danger by midnight wait for the signal before 
 you turn him loose " 
 
MAVERICKS SIS 
 
 "So-long, Mr. Keller. I cayn t spare the time to 
 stay longer with you," their owner jeered. 
 
 "Just a moment, Mr. Healy. I want to know 
 why you are keeping me here." 
 
 The man grinned. "Am I keeping you here, seh ? 
 Looks to me like it was Brad that s a-keeping you. 
 Make a break for a getaway, and I ll not do a thing 
 to you. Course I cayn t promise what Brad won t 
 do. He s such a plumb anxious host." 
 
 "You re his brains. What you tell him to do he 
 does. I hold you responsible for this !" 
 
 "You don t say!" 
 
 "And right now I ll add, for all the devilment that 
 has been going on in these parts for years. You ve 
 about reached the end of your rope, though." 
 
 "I ll bet dollars to doughnuts you reach the end of 
 one inside of forty-eight hours, Mr. Rustler," flashed 
 back Healy. 
 
 And with an evil, significant grin he was gone. 
 They heard the sound of retreating hoofs die in the 
 distance. 
 
 But his visit had told the prisoner two things. A 
 hurried wholesale drive of rustled cattle was being 
 made across the line into Sonora, and it was being 
 done in such a way as to fasten the suspicion of it 
 upon the nester who had not appeared at the dance 
 and had not been seen since that time. The irony 
 of the thing was superb in its audacity. Healy and 
 his friends would get the profit from the stolen cat 
 tle, and they would visit the punishment for the 
 
8141 MAVERICKS 
 
 crime upon him. Evidence would be cooked up of 
 course, and the retribution would be so swift that his 
 friends would not be able to save him. This time 
 his enemy would take no chances. He would be 
 wiped out like a troublesome insect. The thing was 
 diabolic in the simplicity of its cleverness. 
 
 Keller watched his jailer now like a hawk. He 
 was ready to take the first chance that offered, no 
 matter how slight a one it seemed. But the man 
 was vigilant and wary. He never let his hand 
 wander a foot from the handle of the weapon he 
 carried. 
 
 Silently Irwin cooked a second meal. They sat 
 down to it opposite each other, Keller facing the 
 open window. While his jailer plied the knife^ his 
 revolver again lay on the oilcloth within reach. 
 
 "While I m your guest and eating at your ex 
 pense, I want to be properly grateful," the nester 
 told his vis-a-vis. "Some folks might kick because 
 the me-an -you wasn t more varied, but I ain t that 
 kind. You re doing your best, and nobody could do 
 more." 
 
 "The which ?" asked Irwin puzzled. 
 
 "The me-an -you. It s French for just plain grub. 
 For breakfast we get bacon and coffee and biscuits. 
 For supper there s a variety. This time it is biscuits 
 and coffee and bacon. To-morrow I reckon " 
 
 Keller stopped halfway in his sentence, but took 
 up his drawling comment again instantly. Only an 
 added sparkle in his eyes betrayed the change that 
 
MAVERICKS 315 
 
 had suddenly wiped out his indolence and left him 
 tense and alert. For while he had been speaking a 
 head had slowly raised itself above the window case 
 ment and two eyes had looked in and met his. They 
 belonged to Phil Sanderson. 
 
 Never had the brain of the prisoner been more 
 alert. While his garrulous tongue ran aimlessly on, 
 he considered ways and means. The boy held up 
 empty hands to show him that he was unarmed. 
 The nester did not by the flicker of an eyelash be 
 tray the presence of a third party to the man at table 
 with him. Nevertheless his chatter became from 
 that moment addressed to two listeners. To one it 
 meant nothing in particular. To the other it was 
 pregnant with meaning. 
 
 "No, seh. Some might complain because you 
 ain t better provided with grub and fixings, but what 
 I say is to make out the best we can with what we ve 
 got," the slow, drawling voice continued. "Some 
 folks cayn t get along unless things are up to the 
 Delmonico standard. That s plumb foolishness. Re 
 minds me of a friend of mine that happened on a 
 grizzly onct while he was cutting trail. 
 
 "Not expecting to meet Mr. Bear, he didn t have 
 ;any gun along. Mr. Bear was surely on the wah- 
 path that day. He made a bee line for my friend to 
 get better acquainted. Nothing like presence of 
 mind. That cow-puncher got his rope coiled in 
 three shakes of a maverick s tail, his pinto bucking 
 for fair to make his getaway. The rope drapped 
 
816 MAVERICKS 
 
 over Mr. Bear s head just as the puncher and the 
 hawss separated company. 
 
 "Things were doing right sudden then. My friend 
 grabbed the end of that rope and twisted it round 
 and round a young live oak. Then he remembered 
 an appointment and lit out, Mr. Bear after him on 
 the jump. Muy pronto that grizzly came up awful 
 sudden. The more he jerked the nearer he was to 
 being choked. You better believe Mr. Puncher was 
 hitting that trail right willing in the meanwhile." 
 
 "You talk too much with yore mouth," growled 
 Irwin. 
 
 "It s a difference of opinion that makes horse 
 races. I was just aiming to show you that if my 
 friend hadn t happened to have a rope along he 
 would have been in a bad fix. But, you notice, he 
 used his brains, and a rope did just as well as a 
 gun/ 
 
 The eyes just above the window casing disap 
 peared. Brad attended to the business in hand, 
 which was that of getting away with bacon and bis 
 cuits while he kept an eye on the man opposite. His 
 prisoner also did justice to his supper, to his flow 
 of conversation, and to the window behind the un 
 conscious jailer. 
 
 In that open window were presently framed again 
 the head and shoulders of young Sanderson. Ir 
 win pushed back his chair to get some more coffee, 
 and the picture in the frame shot instantly down. 
 The guard, his coffee cup, and his revolver went to 
 
MAVERICKS 317 
 
 the stove and returned. Phil reappeared at the win 
 dow, his rope coiled for action. It slid gracefully 
 forward, dropped over the head of Brad, and was 
 instantly jerked tight. 
 
 Keller vaulted across the table, and flung himself 
 upon the struggling man. Brad s arms were en 
 tangled in the rope, but one leg shot out and hurled 
 back the nester. But before he could free himself 
 from the taut loop his prisoner was upon him again 
 and had borne him to the ground. 
 
 Of the two, Irwin was far the more powerful, 
 Keller the more agile and supple. He knew every 
 trick of the wrestling game, whereas the other was 
 clumsy and muscle-bound. By main strength the 
 older man got to his feet again. Over went the table 
 as they surged against it. 
 
 A chair, stamped into kindling, was hurled aside 
 by the force of their impact. The stove rocked, and 
 the bed collapsed as the locked figures crashed 
 down upon it. The ranger, twisting as they fell, 
 landed on top and his fingers instantly found the 
 throat of his foe. Simultaneously Phil came to his 
 assistance. 
 
 Even then, taken at an advantage, with two much 
 younger men against him, the big jailer fought to 
 the finish like a bear. Not till he was completely ex 
 hausted and they nearly so did he give up and lie 
 quiet. All three of them panted heavily, the allies ly 
 ing across his chest and legs. The nester managed 
 to draw the loop taut about Irwin s neck and insert 
 
318 MAVERICKS 
 
 his knuckles so that he could use them as a tourni 
 quet if necessary. 
 
 "Gather up the other end of the rope, loop it, and 
 tie his feet together," the nester ordered, getting his 
 sentence out in fragmentary jerks. 
 
 Phil did so, deftly and expertly, after which, in 
 spite of renewed struggles, they tied the hands of 
 their prisoner behind his back. 
 
 "Looks like a cyclone had hit the room," said the 
 boy, glancing at the debris. 
 
 Larrabie laughed. "He s the most willing mixer 
 I ever saw." 
 
 "What are you going to do with him?" 
 
 "We ll leave him tied right where he is. When 
 we get down into the settlement we ll notify his 
 friends, though I reckon they ll find him without 
 any help from us." 
 
 In order to make sure they went over the knots 
 again, tightening them here and there. The re 
 volver and the rifle of the bound man they appro 
 priated. The nester s horse was in a little corral 
 back of the house. He saddled, and shortly the two 
 were on the back trail. Phil knew the country as a 
 golfer knows his links. To him Keller put the ques 
 tion in his mind : > 
 
 "How far is the Mimbres Pass from here, and in* 
 what direction?" 
 
 The younger man looked at him in surprise. "A 
 dozen miles, I reckon. See that cleft over there? 
 That s the Mimbres." 
 
MAVERICKS 319 
 
 His friend drew rein and looked with level eyes 
 at him. 
 
 "Phil, it s come to a show-down! Are you for 
 Brill Healy or are you for me?" 
 
 "I m through with Brill." 
 
 "Dead sure of that?" 
 
 "Dead sure. Why?" 
 
 "Because you ve got to make your choice to-night 
 whether you re going to stand with honest men or 
 thieves. Healy s gang is rustling a bunch of cows 
 gathered at the round-up. They re heading for 
 Mimbres Pass. I m going to stop them if I can." 
 
 "I m with you, Larry." 
 
 "Good ! I was sure of you, Phil." 
 
 The boy flushed, but his eyes did not waver. "I 
 want to tell you something. That day we most 
 caught you over the dead cow of the C. O. outfit 
 Brill was carrying Phyl s knife. I had lent it to him 
 the night before." 
 
 Keller nodded. "I had figured it out that way." 
 
 "But that ain t all. Once when I was cutting trail 
 in the hills must have been about six months before 
 that time I happened on Brill driving a calf still 
 bleeding from the brand he had put on it. 
 
 "I didn t think anything of that, but I noticed he 
 was anxious to have me turn and join him. But I 
 kept on the way I was going, and just by a miracle 
 my pony almost stumbled over a dead cow lying in 
 the brush. That set me thinking. That night I 
 over to Healy s and asked an explanation. 
 
320 MAVERICKS 
 
 "He had one ready. Some one else must have 
 killed the cow. He found the calf wandering about 
 alone, and branded it. Somehow his story didn t 
 quite satisfy me, but I wasn t ready then to think 
 him a coyote. I liked him always had. And it 
 flattered me that he had picked me out to be his best 
 friend. So I said nothing, and figured it out that 
 he was on the square. Of course I knew he was 
 reckless and wild, but I didn t like him any the less 
 for that. I reckon nobody ever accused him of not 
 being game." 
 
 "Hardly," smiled Keller. "He ll stand the acid 
 that way." 
 
 "The thing that stuck in my craw was his lying 
 about seeing you on the night of the bank robbery. 
 He said you were riding the roan with white stock 
 ings. Later we found out that couldn t be true. 
 Then I knew Jim was telling the truth about you 
 being with him in the hills at the time. It kind of 
 sifted to me by degrees that you were a white man 
 and he was a skunk." 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 "Then we had it out one day. He had his reason 
 for wanting to stand well with me. I reckon you 
 know what it is." 
 
 "I know his reason. No man could have a better. 
 I reckon I ve a right to think so, Phil, because she 
 has promised to marry me." 
 
 The boy shook hands with him impulsively. "I m 
 
MAVERICKS 321 
 
 right glad to hear it and I want to say they don t 
 make girls any better than Phyl." 
 
 "That s not news to me. I have known it since 
 the first time I saw her." 
 
 Sanderson returned to the order of the day. 
 "Well, Brill and I had had one or two tiffs, mostly 
 about you and Phyl. He saw I was changed to 
 ward him, and he wanted to know why. I let him 
 have it straight, and since then we haven t been 
 friends." 
 
 "I m glad of that. It makes plain sailing for mg. 
 He s got to be run down and caged, Phil. Healy is 
 at the head of all this rustling that has been trem 
 bling the Malpais country. His gang stuck up the 
 Diamond Nugget stage, killed Sheriff Fowler, and 
 robbed the Noches Bank." 
 
 "How could he have robbed the bank when he 
 was seen fifty miles from there not two hours after 
 ward?" 
 
 Keller briefly explained his theorv then pushed 
 on at once to his plans. 
 
 "I m going to make straight for the Mimbres 
 Pass while you go back and rustle help. I ll try to 
 keep them from getting through the Pass until you 
 close in on them behind." 
 
 "That don t look good to me. How do I know 
 how long it will be before I can gather the boys 
 together or find Jim and his outfit? You might be 
 massacred before I got back." 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "A man has to take his fighting chance." 
 
 "Then let me take mine. We ll hold the pass to 
 gether. I ll bet we can. Don t you reckon?" 
 
 "What use would you be without a rifle? No, 
 Phil, you ll have to bring up the reinforcements. 
 That s the best tactics." 
 
 Sanderson protested eagerly, but in the end was 
 overborne. They turned their backs upon each 
 other, one headed for the Mimbres and the other 
 for the trail that ran down to the Malpais country, 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE MAN-HUNT 
 
 When Jim Yeager separated from Phil after their 
 discovery of Keller s hat and the deductions they 
 drew from it, the former turned his pony toward the 
 Frying Pan. Daylight had already broken before 
 he came in sight of it, but sounds of revelry still 
 issued boisterously from the house. 
 
 As he drew near there came to him the squeal of 
 sawing fiddles, the high-pitched voice of the dance 
 caller in sing-song drawl, the shuffling of feet keep 
 ing time to the rhythm of the music. For though 
 a new day was at hand, the quadrilles continued 
 with unflagging vigor, one succeeding another as 
 soon as the floor was cleared. 
 
 The cow country takes its amusements seriously. 
 A dance is infrequent enough to be an event. Men 
 and women do not ride or drive from thirty to fifty 
 miles without expecting to drink the last drop of 
 pleasure there may be in the occasion. 
 
 As Jim swung from the saddle, a slim figure in 
 white glided from the shadow of the wild cucum 
 ber vines that rioted over one end of the porch. 
 
 "Well, Jim?" 
 
 323 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 The man came to the point with characteristic di 
 rectness. "He has been waylaid, Phyl. We found 
 his hat and the place where they ambushed him." 
 
 "Is he " Her voice died at the word, but her 
 
 meaning was clear. 
 
 "I don t think it. Looks like they were aiming- to 
 take him prisoner without hurting him. They might 
 easily have shot him down, but the ground shows 
 there was a struggle." 
 
 "And you came back without rescuing him?" she 
 reproached. 
 
 "Phil and I were unarmed. I came back to get 
 guns and help." 
 
 "And Phil?" 
 
 "He s following the trail. I wanted him to let me 
 while he came back. But he wouldn t hear to it. 
 Said he had to square his debt to Larry." 
 
 "Good for Phil !" his sister cried, eyes like stars. 
 
 "Is Brill still here?" he asked. 
 
 "No. He rode away about an hour ago. He was 
 very bitter at me because I wouldn t dance with him. 
 Said I d curse myself for it before twenty- four hours 
 had passed. He must have Larry in his power, 
 Jim." 
 
 "Looks like," he nodded, and added grimly: "If 
 you do any regretting there will be others that will, 
 too." 
 
 She caught the lapels of his coat and looked into 
 his face with extraordinary intensity. "I m going 
 back with you, Jim. You ll let me, won t you ? I ve 
 
MAVERICKS 325 
 
 waited and waited. You can t think what an aw 
 ful night it has been. I can t stand it any longer! 
 I ll go mad! Oh, Jim, you ll take me, I know!" 
 Her hands slipped down to his and clung to them 
 with passionate entreaty. 
 
 "Why, honey, I cayn t. This is likely to be war 
 before we finish. It ain t any place for girls." 
 
 "I ll stay back, Jim. I ll do whatever you say, if 
 you ll only let me go." 
 
 He shook his head resolutely. "Cayn t be done, 
 girl. I m sorry, but you see yourself it won t do/ 
 
 Nor could all her beseechings move him. Though 
 his heart was very tender toward her he was granite 
 to her pleadings. At last he put her aside gently 
 and stepped into the house. 
 
 Going at once to the fiddlers, he stopped the mu 
 sic and stood on the little rostrum where they were 
 seated. Surprised faces turned toward him. 
 
 "What s up, Jim?" demanded Slim, his arm still 
 about the waist of Bess Purdy. 
 
 "A man was waylaid while coming to this dance 
 and taken prisoner by his enemies. They mean to 
 do him a mischief. I want volunteers to rescue 
 him." 
 
 "Who is it ?" several voices cried at once. 
 
 "The man I mean is Larrabie Keller." 
 
 A pronounced silence followed before Slim 
 drawled an answer: 
 
 "Cayn t speak for the other boys, but I reckon I 
 haven t lost any Kellers, Jim." 
 
326 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Why not? What have you got against him?" 
 
 "You know well enough. He s under a cloud. 
 We don t say he s a rustler and a bank robber, but 
 then we don t say he ain t/ 
 
 "I say he isn t! Boys, it has come to a show- 
 } down. Keller is a member of the Rangers, sent here 
 by Bucky O Connor to run down the rustlers." 
 
 Questions poured upon him. 
 
 "How do you know?" 
 
 "How long have you known?" 
 
 "Who told you?" 
 
 "Why didn t he tell us so himself, then?" 
 
 Jim waited till they were quiet. "I ve seen letters 
 from the governor to him. He didn t come here de- 
 daring his intentions because he knew there would 
 be nothing doing if the rustlers knew he was in the 
 neighborhood. He has about done his work now, 
 and it s up to us to save him before they bump him 
 off. Who will ride with me to rescue him ?" 
 
 There was no hesitation now. 
 
 Every man pushed forward to have a hand in it. 
 
 "Good enough," nodded Yeager. "We ll want 
 rifles, boys. Looks to me like hell might be a-pop- 
 ping before mo ning grows very ancient. We ll set 
 jout from Turkey Creek Crossroads two hours from 
 now. Any man not on hand then will get left be 
 hind. 
 
 "And remember this is a man hunt! No talk 
 ing, boys. We don t want the news that we re com 
 ing spread all over the hills before we arrive." 
 
MAVERICKS 327 
 
 As Jim descended from the rostrum, his roving- 
 gaze fell on Phyl Sanderson standing in the door 
 way. Her fears had stolen the color even from her 
 lips, but the girl s beauty had never struck him more 
 poignantly. 
 
 Misery stared at him out of her fine eyes, yet the 
 unconscious courage of her graceful poise erect, 
 with head thrown back so that he could even see the 
 pulse beat in the brown throat suggested anything 
 but supine surrender to her terror. Before he could 
 reach her she had slipped into the night, and he 
 could not find her. 
 
 Men dribbled in to the Turkey Creek Crossroads 
 along as many trails as the ribs of a fan running to 
 a common centre. Jim waited, watch open, and 
 when it said that seven o clock had come he snapped 
 it shut and gave the word to set out. 
 
 It was a grim, business-like posse, composed of 
 good men and true who had been sifted in the im 
 partial sieve of life on the turbid frontier. More 
 over, they were well led. A certain hard metallic 
 quality showed in the voice and eye of Jim Yeager 
 that boded no good for the man who faced him in 
 combat to-day. He rode with his gaze straight to 
 the front, toward that cleft in the hills where layt 
 Gregory s Pass. The others fell in behind, a silent, 
 hard-bitten outfit as ever took the trail for that most 
 dangerous of all big game the hidden outlaw. 
 
 The little bundi of riders had not gone far be- 
 
328 MAVERICKS 
 
 fore Purdy, who was riding in the rear, called to 
 Yeager. 
 
 "Somebody coming hell-to-split after us, Jim." 
 
 It turned out to be Buck Weaver, who had been 
 notified by telephone of what was taking place. A 
 girl had called him up out of his sleep, and he had 
 pounded the road hard to get in at the finish. 
 
 Jim explained the situation in a few words and 
 offered to yield command to the owner of the Twin 
 Star ranch. But Buck declined. 
 
 "You re the boss of this rodeo, Yeager. I m rid 
 ing in the ranks to-day." 
 
 "How did you hear we were rounding-up to 
 day?" Jim asked. 
 
 "Some one called me up," Buck answered briefly, 
 but he did not think it necessary to say that it was 
 Phyllis. 
 
 Behind them, unnoticed by any, sometimes hid 
 den from sight by the rise and fall of the rough 
 ground, sometimes silhouetted against the sky line, 
 rode a slim, supple figure on a white-faced cow pony. 
 Once, when the fresh morning wind swept down a 
 gulch at an oblique angle, it lifted for an instant 
 from the stirrup leather what might have been a 
 gray flag. But the flag was only a skirt, and it sig- 
 . nailed nothing more definite than the courage and 
 devotion of a girl who knew that the men she loved 
 best on earth were in danger. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THE ROUND-UP 
 
 The Mimbres Pass narrows toward the southern 
 exit where Point o Rocks juts into the canon and 
 commands it like a sentinel. Toward this column 
 of piled boulders slowly moved a cloud of white 
 dust, at the base of which crept a band of hard- 
 driven cattle. Swollen tongues were out, heads 
 stretched forward in a bellow for water taken up by 
 one as another dropped it. The day was still hot, 
 though the sun had slipped down over the range, 
 and the drove had been worked forward remorse 
 lessly. Every inch that could be sweated out of 
 them had been gained. 
 
 For those that pushed them along were in des 
 perate hurry. Now and again a rider would twist 
 round in his saddle to sweep back a haggard glance. 
 Dust enshrouded them, lay heavy on every exposed 
 inch; but through it seams of anxiety crevassed their 
 leathern faces. Iron men they were, with one ex 
 ception. Fight they could and would to the last 
 ditch. But behind the jaded, stony eyes lay a haunt 
 ing fear, the never-ending dread of a pursuit that 
 might burst upon them at any moment. Driven to 
 
 329 
 
330 MAVERICKS 
 
 the wall, they would have faced the enemy like 
 tigers, with a fierce, exultant hate. It was the never- 
 ending possibility of disaster that lay heavily upon 
 them. 
 
 Just as they entered the pass, a man came spurring 
 up the steep trail behind them. The drag drivers 
 shouted a warning to those in front and waited 
 alertly with weapons ready. The man trying to 
 overtake them waved a sombrero as a flag of truce. 
 
 "Keep an eye on him, Tom. If he makes a move 
 that don t look good to you, plug him !" ordered the 
 keen-eyed man beside one of the drag drivers. 
 
 "I m bridle wise, boss." But though he spoke 
 with bravado Dixon shook like an aspen in a breeze. 
 
 The man he had called boss looked every inch a 
 leader. He rode with the loose seat and the straight 
 back of the Westerner to the saddle born. Just now 
 he was looking back with impassive, reddened eyes 
 at the approaching figure. 
 
 "Hold on, Tom! Don t shoot! It s Brad," he 
 decided. "And I wonder what in Mexico he is do 
 ing here." 
 
 The leader of the outlaws was soon to learn. Ir- 
 win told the story of the strategy that had changed 
 him from jailer to prisoner and of the way he had 
 later freed himself from the rope that bound him. 
 
 Healy unloaded his sentiments with an emphasis 
 that did the subject justice. Nevertheless he could 
 not see that their plans were seriously affected. 
 
 "It s a leetle premature, but his getaway doesn t 
 
MAVERICKS 331 
 
 cut any ice. What we want to do is to nail him, 
 clamp the evidence home, and put him out of busi 
 ness before his friends can say Jack Robinson. The 
 story now is that he was caught driving a little 
 bunch of cows to met the big bunch his pals were, 
 rustling, and that we left him in charge of Brad; 
 while we tried to run down the other waddies. Un 
 derstand, boys?" 
 
 They did, and admired the more the versatility of 
 a leader who could make plans on the spur of the 
 moment to meet any emergency. 
 
 "We ll push right on, boys. Once we get through 
 the pass it will trouble anybody to find us. Before 
 mo ning you ll be across the line/ 
 
 "And you, Brill?" 
 
 "I m going back to settle accounts for good and 
 all with Mr. Keller," answered Healy grimly be 
 tween set teeth. "I ve got a notion about him. I 
 believe he s a spy." 
 
 Just before Point o Rocks a defile runs into the 
 Mimbres Pass at right angles. The leaders of the 
 cattle, pushed forward by the pressure from behind, 
 stopped for a moment, and stood bawling at the 
 junction. A rider spurred forward to keep them 
 from attempting the gulch. Suddenly he dragged 
 hi?, pony to its haunches, so quickly did he stop it 
 For a clear voice had called down a warning as if 
 from the heavens : 
 
 "You can t go this way ! The Pass is closed P 
 
 The rider looked up in amazement, and beheld a 
 
832 MAVERICKS 
 
 man standing on the ledge above with a rifle rest 
 ing easily across his forearm. 
 
 "By Heaven, it s Keller !" the rustler muttered. 
 
 He wheeled as on a half dollar, pushed his way 
 back along the edge of the wall past the cattle, and 
 shouted to his chief : 
 
 "We re trapped, Brill!" 
 
 None of the outlaws needed that notification. 
 Five pair of eyes had lifted to the ledge upon which 
 Keller stood. The shock of the surprise paralyzed 
 them for an instant. For it occurred to none of the 
 five that this man would be standing there so quietly 
 unless he were backed by a posse sufficient to over 
 power them. He had not the manner of a man tak 
 ing a desperate chance. The situation was as dra 
 matic as life and death, but the voice that had come 
 down to them had been as matter-of-fact as if it had 
 asked some one to pass him a cup of coffee at the 
 breakfast table. 
 
 The temper of the outlaws metal showed in 
 stantly. Dixon dropped his rifle, threw up his 
 hands, and ran bleating to the cover of some large 
 rocks, imploring the imagined posse not to shoot. 
 Others found silently what shelter they could. 
 Healy alone took reckless counsel of his hate. 
 
 Flinging his rifle to his shoulder, he blazed away 
 at the figure on the ledge once, twice, three times. 
 When the smoke cleared the ranger was no longer 
 to be seen. He was lying flat on his rock like a 
 lizard, where he had dropped just as his enemy 
 
MAVERICKS 333 
 
 whipped up his weapon to fire. Cold as chilled steel, 
 in spite of the fire of passion that blazed within him, 
 Healy slid to the ground on the far side of his horse 
 and, without exposing himself, slowly worked to 
 the loose boulders bordering the edge of the canon 
 bed. 
 
 The bawling of the cattle and the faint whimper 
 ing of Dixon alone disturbed the silence. Healy and 
 his confederates were waiting for the other side to 
 show its hand. Meanwhile the leader of the out 
 laws was thinking out the situation. 
 
 "I believe there s only two of them, Bart," he 
 confided in a low voice to the big fellow lying near. 
 "Keller must have heard us when we talked it over 
 at the shack. I reckon he and Phil hit the trail for 
 here immediate. They hadn t time to go back and 
 rustle help and still get here before us. 
 
 "We ll make Mr. Keller table his cards. I m go 
 ing to try to rush the cattle through. We ll see at 
 once what s doing. If they are too many for us to 
 do that we ll break for the gulch and fight our way 
 out that is, if we find we re hemmed in behind, 
 too." 
 
 He called to the rest of the bandits and gave crisp 
 instructions. At sound of his sharp whistle four 
 men leaped into sight, each making for his horse. 
 Dixon alone did not answer to the call. He lay white 
 and trembling behind the rock that sheltered him, 
 physically unable to rise and face the bullets that 
 would rain down upon him. 
 
334 MAVERICKS 
 
 Keller, watching alertly from above, guessed what 
 they would be at. His rifle cracked twice, and two 
 of the horses staggered, one of them collapsing 
 slowly. He had to show himself, and for three 
 heartbeats stood exposed to the fire of four rifles. 
 One bullet fanned his cheek, a second plunged 
 through his coat sleeve, a third struck the rock at 
 his feet. While the echoes were still crashing, he 
 was flat on his rock again, peering over the edge to 
 see their next move. 
 
 "He s alone," cried Healy jubilantly. "Must have 
 sent the kid back for help. Bart, get Dixon s gun, 
 steal up the ravine, and take him in the rear. I d 
 go myself, but I can t leave the boys now." 
 
 Slowly the cattle felt the impetus from behind, 
 and began to move forward. The voice above 
 shouted a second waring. Healy answered with a 
 derisive yell. Keller again stood exposed on the 
 ledge. 
 
 Rifles cracked. 
 
 This time the cattle detective was firing at men 
 and not at horses, and they in turn were pumping 
 at him fast as they could work the levers. One man 
 went down, torn through and through by a rifle 
 slug in his vitals. Healy s horse twitched and stag 
 gered, but the rider was unhurt. The officer on the 
 ledge, a perfect target, was the heart of a very hail 
 of lead, but when he sank again to cover he was by 
 some miracle still unhurt. 
 
MAVERICKS 335 
 
 "They ll trv a flank attack next time," Keller told 
 himself. 
 
 Up to date the honors were easily his. He had 
 put three horses out of commission and disabled one 
 of the outlaws so badly that he would prove negligi 
 ble in the attack. Peering down, he could see Healy, 
 with superb contempt for the marksman above, 
 slowly and carefully carry his wounded comrade to 
 shelter. The other men were already driven back 
 to cover. The cattle, excited by the firing, were 
 milling round and round uneasily. 
 
 Healy laid the wounded man down, knelt beside 
 him, and gave him water from his flask. The man 
 was plainly hard hit, though he was not bleeding 
 much. 
 
 "Where is it, Duke ? Can I do anything for you, 
 old fellow?" 
 
 The dying man shook his head and whispered 
 hoarsely: "I ve got mine, Brill. Shot to pieces. 
 I m dying right now. Get out while you can. Don t 
 mind me." 
 
 His chief swore softly. "We ll get him right, 
 Duke. Brad s after him now. Buck up, old pard. 
 You ll worry through yet." 
 
 "Not this time, Brill. I ve played rustler once too 
 often." 
 
 Keller, far up on the precipice, became aware of 
 approaching riders long before the outlaws below 
 could see them. He counted eight nine ten men, 
 
336 MAVERICKS 
 
 still black dots in a cloud of dust. This he knew 
 must be Phil s posse. 
 
 If he could hold the rustlers for ten minutes more 
 they would be caught like rats in a trap. Once or 
 twice he glanced behind him as a precaution against 
 some one of the enemy climbing Point o Rocks 
 from the defile, but he gave this little consideration. 
 He had not seen Brad when he disappeared into the 
 mesquite, and he supposed all of the rustlers were 
 still in the Pass five hundred feet below him. 
 
 What he had expected was that they would force 
 their way up the defile for a quarter of a mile and 
 strike the easy trail that ran from the rear to the 
 top of the Point. He wondered that this had not 
 occurred to Healy. 
 
 In point of fact it had, but the outlaw leader knew 
 that as they picked their way among the broken 
 boulders of the gulch bottom the enemy would have 
 them in the open for more than a hundred yards of 
 slow going. He had chosen the alternative of send 
 ing Brad quietly up the rough face of the cliff. The 
 other plan would do as a last resource if this failed. 
 
 Healy believed that his enemy had been delivered 
 into his hands. After Keller had been killed they | 
 would toss his body down into the Pass, and while 
 his companions continued the drive to Mexico, 
 Healy would return to get help for Duke and spread 
 the story he wanted to get out. The main features 
 of that tale would be that he and Duke had cut their 
 
MAVERICKS 337 
 
 trail by accident, suspected rustling, and followed as 
 far as the Mimbres Pass, where Keller had shot 
 Duke and been in turn shot by Healy. 
 
 It was a neat plan, and one that would have been 
 fairly sure of success but for one unforeseen con 
 tingency the approach of Yeager s posse a half 
 hour too soon. Healy heard them coming, knew he 
 was trapped, and attempted to force an escape 
 through the narrows in front of Point o Rocks. 
 
 The milling cattle had jammed the gateway. 
 Keller, shooting down one or two of them, blocked 
 the exit still more. Healy and his confederates 
 could not get through, and turned to try the defile 
 just as the first of the posse came flying down the 
 Pass. 
 
 Young Sanderson was in the van, a hundred yards 
 in front of Yeager, dashing over the uneven ground 
 in a reckless haste that Jim s slower horse could not 
 match. Loose shale was flying from his pony s 
 hoofs as it pounded forward. The outlaws just 
 beat him to the mouth of the intersecting gulch. 
 Dragging his broncho to a slithering halt, he fired 
 twice at the retreating men. He had taken no time 
 to aim, and his bullets went wild. 
 
 Brill laughed in mockery, covered him deliberately 
 with his rifle, and just as deliberately raised the bar 
 rel and fired into the air. The distance was scarce 
 a hundred yards. Phil could not doubt that his 
 former friend had purposely spared his life. The 
 boy s rifle dropped from his shoulder. 
 
338 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Brill wouldn t shoot at me ! I couldn t kill him !" 
 he shouted to Weaver, as the latter rode up. 
 
 Buck nodded. "Let me have him!" And he 
 plunged into the gorge after the men that had dis 
 appeared. 
 
 Twice Keller s rifle spat at Healy and his 
 companion as they plowed forward across the boul 
 der bed, but the difficulty of shooting from far above 
 at moving figures almost directly below saved the 
 rustlers. They reached a thick growth of aspens 
 and disappeared. Healy parted company with his 
 ally at the place where the trail to the summit of 
 Point o Rocks led up. 
 
 "Break south when you get out of the gulch, Sam. 
 In half an hour it will be night, and you ll be safe. 
 So-long." 
 
 "Where you going, Brill ?" 
 
 "I m going to settle accounts with that dashed 
 spy!" answered Healy, with an epithet. "Inside of 
 half an hour either Keller or I will be down and 
 out!" 
 
 The outlaw took the stiff incline leisurely, for he 
 knew Keller could come down only this way, and he 
 had no mind to let himself get so breathed as to dis 
 turb the sureness of his aim. The aspen grove ran 
 like a forked tongue up the ridge for a couple of 
 hundred yards. As Healy emerged from it he saw 
 a rider just disappearing over the shoulder of the 
 hill in front of him. For an instant he had an 
 amazed impression that the figure was that of a 
 
MAVERICKS 339 
 
 woman, but he dismissed this as absurd. He went 
 the more cautiously, for he now knew that there 
 would be two for him to deal with on the Point in 
 stead of one unless Brad reached the scene in time 
 to assist him. 
 
 The sound of a shot drifted down to him, fol 
 lowed presently by a far, faint cry of terror. What 
 had happened was this : 
 
 Keller, turning away from the overhanging ledge 
 from which he had seen the outlaws vanish into the 
 grove, looked down the long slope preliminary to 
 descending. He was surprised to see a horse and 
 rider halfway between him and the aspen tongue. 
 To him, too, there came a swift impression that it 
 was a woman, and almost at once something in the 
 poise of the gallant figure told him what woman. 
 His heart leaped to meet her. He waved a hand 
 and broke into a run. 
 
 But only for two strides. For there had come to 
 him a warning. He swung on his heel and waited. 
 Again he heard the light rumble of shale, and be 
 fore that had died away a sinister click. Alert in 
 every fiber, his gaze swept the bluff and stopped 
 when it met a pair of beady eyes peering at him 
 over the edge of the precipice. 
 
 The two pair of eyes fastened for what seemed 
 like an eternity, but could have been no longer than 
 four ticks of a clock. Neither of the men spoke. 
 The outlaw fired first wildly, for the arm which 
 held the rifle was cramped for space. Keller s re- 
 
840 MAVERICKS 
 
 volver flashed an answer which tore through Irwin s 
 teeth and went out beneath his ear. With a furious 
 oath the man dropped his weapon and flung himself 
 upward and forward, landing in a heap almost at the 
 -feet of the detective. 
 
 "Don t move!" ordered the latter. 
 
 Brad writhed forward awkwardly, knew the shock 
 of another heavy bullet in his shoulder, and catching 
 his foe by the legs dragged him from his feet. Kel 
 ler s revolver was jerked over the edge of the preci^ 
 pice as he let go of it to close with the burly ruffian. 
 
 Both of them were unarmed save for the weapons 
 nature had given them. The detailed purpose of the 
 struggle defined itself at once. Irwin meant by main 
 strength to fling the detective into the gulf that de 
 scended sheer for five hundred feet. The other 
 fought desperately to save himself by dragging his 
 infuriated antagonist back from the edge. 
 
 They grappled in silence, save for the heavy pant 
 ing that evidenced the tension of their efforts. Each 
 tried to bear the other to the ground, to establish a 
 grip against which his foe would be helpless. Now 
 they were on their knees, now on their sides. Over 
 and over they rolled, first one and then the other on 
 top, shifting so fast that neither could clinch any 
 temporary advantage. 
 
 Yet Keller, with a flying glance at the cliff, knew 
 that he was being forced nearer the gulf by sheer 
 strength of muscle. Irwin, his jaw shattered and his 
 
MAVERICKS 341 
 
 shoulder torn, was not fighting to win, but to kill. 
 He cared not whether he himself also went to death. 
 He was obsessed by the old primeval lust to crush 
 the life out of this lusty antagonist, and his whole 
 gigantic force was concentrated to that end. He 
 scarce knew that he was wounded, and he cared not 
 at all. Backward and forward though the battle 
 went, on the whole it moved jerkily toward the 
 chasm. 
 
 The end came with a suddenness of which Larra- 
 bie had but an instant s warning in the swift flare of 
 joy that lit the madman s face. His foot, searching 
 for a brace as he was borne back, found only empty 
 space. Plunged downward, the nester clung viselike 
 to the man above, dragged him after, and by the 
 very fury of Irwin s assault flung him far out into 
 the gulf head-first. 
 
 It was Phyl Sanderson s cry of horror that Healy 
 heard. She had put her horse up the steep at a head 
 long gallop, had seen the whole furious struggle and 
 the tragic end of it that witnessed two men hurled 
 over the precipice into space. She slipped from the 
 saddle, and sank dizzily to the ground, not daring 
 to look over the cliff at what she would see far be 
 low. Waves of anguish shot through her and shook 
 her very being. 
 
 A man bent over her, and gave a startled cry. 
 
 "My heaven, it s Phyl!" he cried. 
 
 "Yes." She spoke in a flat, lifeless voice he 
 could not have recognized as hers. 
 
342 MAVERICKS 
 
 "Where is he? What s become of him?" Healy 
 demanded. 
 
 She told him with a gesture, then flung herself or? 
 the turf, and broke down helplessly. The outlaw 
 went to the edge and looked over. The gulf of air 
 told no story except the obvious one. No wingless 
 living creature could make that descent without for 
 feiture of life. He stepped back to the girl and 
 touched her on the shoulder. 
 
 "Come." 
 
 She looked up, shuddering, and asked, "Where?" 
 
 "With me." 
 
 "With you? It was you that drove him to his 
 death, and I loved him !" 
 
 "Never mind that now. Come/ 
 
 "I hate you! I should kill you when I got a 
 chance! Why should I go with you?" she asked 
 evenly. 
 
 He did not know why. He had no definite plan. 
 All he knew was that his old world lay in ruins at 
 his feet, that he must fly through the night like a 
 hunted wolf, and that the girl he loved was beside 
 him, forever free from the rival who lay crushed 
 and lifeless at the foot of the cliff. He could not 
 give her up now. He would not. 
 
 The old savage instinct of ownership rose strong 
 in him. She was his. He had won her by the for 
 tune of war. He would keep her against all comers 
 so long as he had life to fight. Night was falling 
 softly over the hills. They would go forth into it 
 together to a new heaven and a new earth. 
 
MAVERICKS 343 
 
 He lifted her to her feet and brought up her horse. 
 She looked at him in a silence that stripped him of 
 his dreams. 
 
 "Come !" he said again, between clenched teeth. 
 
 "Not with you. I don t know you. Leave me 
 alone. You killed him ! You re a murderer !" 
 
 He stretched hands toward her, but she shrank 
 from him, still in the dull stupor of horror that was 
 on her spirit. 
 
 "Go away! Don t touch me! You and your 
 miscreants killed him!" And with that she flung 
 herself down again, and buried her face from the 
 sight of him. 
 
 He waited doggedly, helpless against her grief 
 and her hatred of him, but none the less determined 
 to take her with him. Across the border he would 
 not be a hunted man with a price on his head. They 
 could be married by a padre in Sonora, and per 
 haps some day he would make her love him and 
 forget this man that had come between them. At 
 all events, he would be her master and would tie her 
 life inextricably to his. He stooped and caught her 
 shoulder. She had fainted. 
 
 A footfall set rolling a pebble. He looked up 
 quickly, and almost of its own volition, as it seemed, 
 the rifle leaped to both of his hands. A man stood 
 looking at him across the plateau of the summit. 
 He, too, held a rifle ready for instant action. 
 
 "So it s you !" Healy cried with an oath. 
 
 "Have you killed him ?" 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 The outlaw lied, with swift, unblazing passion: 
 "Yes, Buck Weaver, and tossed his body to the buz 
 zards. Your turn now !" 
 
 "Then who is that with you there ?" 
 
 "The woman you love, the woman that turned 
 i you and him down for me," taunted his rival. 
 "After I ve killed you we re going off to be mar 
 ried." 
 
 "Only a coyote would stand behind a woman s 
 skirts and lie. I can t kill you there, and you know 
 it." 
 
 Healy asked nothing better than an even break 
 He might have killed with impunity from where he 
 stood. Yet pantherlike, he swiftly padded six paces 
 to the left, never lifting his eyes from his antagonist 
 
 Buck waited, motionless. "Are you ready?" 
 
 The outlaw s weapon flashed to the level and 
 cracked. Almost simultaneously the other answered. 
 Weaver felt a bullet fan his cheek, but he knew that 
 his own had crashed home. 
 
 The shock of it swung Healy half round. The 
 man hung in silhouette against the sky line, then the 
 body plunged to the turf at full length. Buck 
 moved forward cautiously, fearing a trick, his eyes 
 fastened on the other. But as he drew nearer he 
 knew it was no ruse. The body lay supine and inert, 
 as lifeless as the clay upon which it rested. 
 
 Once sure of this Buck turned immediately to 
 Phyllis. A faint crackling of bushes stopped him. 
 He waited, his eyes fixed on the edge of the preci- 
 
THEY GRAPPLED IN SILENCE SAVE FOTl THE HEAV T PYNTI.VO THAT EVIDENCED 
 THE TENSION OF THEIU EFFOBTS. 
 
 Page 340 
 
MAVERICKS 34S 
 
 pice from which the sound had come. Next there 
 came to him the slipping of displaced rubble. He 
 was all eyes and ears, tense and alert in every pulse. 
 
 From out of the gulf a hand appeared and groped 
 for a hold. Weaver stepped noiselessly to the edge 
 and looked down. A torn and bleeding face looked 
 up into his. 
 
 "Good heavens, Keller !" 
 
 Buck was on his knees instantly. He caught the 
 ranger s hand with both of his and dragged him up. 
 The rescued man sank breathless on the ground and 
 told his story in gasped fragments. 
 
 " caught on a ledge hung to some bushes 
 growing there climbed up lay still when Healy 
 looked over a near thing makes me sick still!" 
 
 "It was a millionth chance that saved you if it 
 was a chance." 
 
 "Where s Healy?" 
 
 Weaver pointed to the body. "We fought it out. 
 The luck was with me." 
 
 A faint, glad, terrified little cry startled them 
 both. Phyllis was staring with dilated eyes at the 
 man restored to her from the dead. He got up and 
 walked across to her with outstretched hands. 
 
 "My little girl." 
 
 "Oh, Larry! I don t understand. I thought 
 
 
 
 He nodded. "I reckon God was good to us, 
 sweetheart." 
 
 Her arms crept up and round his neck. "Oh, boy 
 
346 MAVERICKS 
 
 boy boy. I thought you were I thought you 
 were ." 
 
 She broke down, but he understood. "Well, I m 
 not," he laughed happily. Catching sight of Buck s 
 grim, set face, Larrabie explained what scarce 
 needed an explanation. "You ll have to excuse us, 
 I reckon. It s my day for congratulations." 
 
 Phyllis freed herself and walked across to her 
 other lover. "My friend, I know the answer now," 
 she told him. 
 
 "I see you do." 
 
 "Don t please don t be hurt," she begged. "I 
 have to care for him." 
 
 The hard, leathery face softened. "I lose, girl. 
 But who told you I was a bad loser ? The best man 
 wins. I ve got no kick to register/ 1 
 
 "Not the best man," Keller corrected, shaking 
 hands with his rival. 
 
 Phyllis summed it up in woman fashion: "My 
 man, whether he is the best or not. It s just that a 
 girl goes where her heart goes." 
 
 Weaver nodded. "Good enough. Well, I ll be 
 going. I expect you ll not miss me." 
 
 He turned and went down the hill alone. At the 
 foot of it he met Jim Yeager. 
 
 "What about Brill?" the younger man askea 
 quickly. 
 
 "He ll never rustle another cow," Buck answered 
 gravely. "I killed him on the top of Point o Rocks 
 after an even break." 
 
MAVERICKS 
 
 "Duke has cashed in. Game to the last. Wouldn t 
 say a word to implicate his pals. But Tom has con 
 fessed everything. The boys slipped a noose over 
 his head, and he came through right away. 
 
 "Says he and Duke and Irwin helped Healy rob 
 the Noches Bank and do a lot of other deviltry. It 
 was just like Keller figured. The automobile was 
 waiting for the bunch with the showfer, and took 
 them out the old Fort Lincoln Road. Dixon knows 
 where the gold is hidden, and is going to show the 
 boys." 
 
 "That clears up everything, then. I judge we ve 
 made a pretty thorough gather/ 
 
 Jim looked up and indistinctly saw the lovers com 
 ing slowly down through the grove. Dusk had fallen 
 and soon the cloak of night would be over the 
 mountains. 
 
 "Who is that?" 
 
 Buck did not look round. "I reckon it s Keller 
 and his sweetheart. She followed us here." 
 
 "I told her not to come." 
 
 "I expect she takes her telling from Mr. Keller." 
 He changed the subject abruptly. "We ll go on 
 down to the boys and see what s doing. They ll be 
 some glad, I shouldn t wonder, at making a gather 
 that cleans out the worst bunch of cutthroats and 
 rustlers in the Malpais. Don t you reckon?" 
 
 "I reckon," answered Yeager briefly. 
 
 THE END 
 
"The Books You Like to Read 
 at the Price You Like to Pay" 
 
 There Are Two Sides 
 to Everything 
 
 including the wrapper which covers 
 every Grosset & Dunlap book. When 
 you feel in the mood for a good ro 
 mance, refer to the carefully selected list 
 of modern fiction comprising most of 
 the successes by prominent writers of 
 the day which is printed on the back of 
 every Grosset & Dunlap book wrapper. 
 
 You will find more than five hundred 
 titles to choose from books for every 
 mood and every taste and every pocket- 
 book. 
 
 Don t forget the other side, but in case 
 the wrapper is lost, write to the publishers 
 for a complete catalog. 
 
 There is a Grosset & Dunlap Book 
 for every mood and for every taste 
 
EDGAR RICE BURROUGH S 
 NOVELS 
 
 May ba had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap s list 
 
 BANDIT OF HELL S BEND, THE 
 CAVE GIRL, THE 
 LAND THAT TIME FORGOT, THE 
 TARZAN AND THE ANT MEN 
 TARZAN AND THE GOLDEN LION 
 TARZAN THE TERRIBLE 
 TARZAN THE UNTAMED 
 
 JUNGLE TALES OF TARZAN 
 AT THE EARTH S CORE 
 THE MUCKER 
 A PRINCESS OF MARS 
 THE GODS OF MARS 
 THE WARLORD OF MARS 
 THUVIA, MAID OF MARS 
 THE CHESSMEN OF MARS 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK 
 
THE NOVELS OF TEMPLE BAILEY 
 
 May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap s list. 
 
 " Although my ancestry is all of New England, I was born 
 in the old town of Petersburg, Virginia. I went later to 
 Richmond and finally at the age of five to Washington, D. 
 C., returning to Richmond for a few years in a girl s school, 
 which was picturesquely quartered in General Lee s* 
 mansion. 
 
 PEACOCK FEATHERS 
 
 The eternal conflict between wealth and love. Jerry, the idealist who 
 is poor, loves Mimi, a beautiful, spoiled society girL 
 
 THE DIM LANTERN 
 
 The romance of little Jane Barnes who is loved by two 
 
 THE GAY COCKADE 
 
 Unusual short stones where Miss Bailey shows her keen knowledge 
 of character and environment, and how romance comes to different people. 
 
 THE TRUMPETER SWAN 
 
 Randy Paine comes back from France to the monotony of every-day 
 affairs. But the girl he loves shows him the beauty in the common-place 
 
 THE TIN SOLDIER 
 
 A man who wishes to serve his country, but is bound by a tie he can 
 not in honor break that s Deny. A girl who loves him, shares his humilia 
 tion and helps him to win that s Jean. Their love is the story. 
 
 MISTRESS ANNE 
 
 A girl in Maryland teaches school, and believes that work is worthy 
 service. Two men come to the little community ; one is weak, the other 
 strong, and both need Anne. 
 
 CONTRARY MARY 
 
 > An old-fashioned love story that is nevertheless modern. 
 
 GLORY OF YOUTH 
 
 A novel that deals with a question, old and yet ever new how far 
 should an engagement of marriage bind two persons who discover they no 
 longer love. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK 
 
MARGARET PEDLER S NOVELS 
 
 May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap s list 
 
 RED ASHES 
 
 A gripping story of a doctor who failed in a crucial opera 
 tionrand had only himself to blame. Could the woman he loved 
 forgive him? 
 
 THE BARBARIAN LOVER 
 
 A love story based on the creed that the only important things 
 between birth and death are the courage to face life and the love 
 to sweeten it. 
 
 THE MOON OUT OF REACH 
 
 Nan Davenant s problem is one that many a girl has faced 
 her own happiness or her father s bond. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF DREAMS-CQME-TRUE 
 
 How a man and a woman fulfilled a gypsy s strange prophecy. 
 
 THE HERMIT OF FAR END 
 
 How love made its way into a walled-in house and a walled-in 
 heart. 
 
 THE LAMP OF FATE 
 
 The story of a woman who tried to take all and give nothing. 
 
 THE SPLENDID FOLLY 
 
 Do you believe that husbands and wives should have no se 
 crets from each other ? 
 
 THE VISION OF DESIRE 
 
 An absorbing romance written with all that sense of feminine 
 tenderness that has given the novels of Margaret Pedler their 
 universal appeal. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK 
 
RUBY M. AYRES NOVELS 
 
 May be had wherever books are told. Ask for Grosset fc Dunlap s list 
 
 THE LITTL ST LOVER 
 
 CANDLE LIGHT 
 
 THE MAN WITHOUT A HEART 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF A ROGUE 
 
 THE MATHERSON MARRIAGE 
 
 RICHARD CHATTERTON 
 
 & BACHELOR HUSBAND 
 
 THE SCAR 
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF BARRY WICKLOW 
 
 THE UPHILL ROAD 
 
 WINDS OF THE WORLD 
 
 THE SECOND HONEYMOON 
 
 THE PHANTOM LOVER 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK 
 
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW 
 
 LOAN DEPT 
 
 This book is due on the 
 
YB 
 
 M15821 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY