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 WHISPFRINf 
 
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 HARRY SINCLAIR DRAG< 
 JOSEPH NOEL 
 
[WHISPERING SAGE 
 
Whispering Sage 
 
 By HARRY SINCLAIR DRAGO 
 and JOSEPH NOEL 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY 
 
 Publishers New York 
 
 Published by arrangement with The Century Company 
 Printed in U. S. A. 
 
Copyright, 1922, by 
 THE CENTURY Co. 
 
 Copyright, 1922, by 
 THE MtmsiY Co. 
 
 Printed in TJ. S. A. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE scorching rays of the noonday sun beat down 
 upon the Nevada desert. For mile on mile the 
 alkali flats stretched away until the eye wearied of 
 distance. 
 
 Across the waste two tiny specks moved. Save for 
 them all life seemed, dead. Long before sunrise they 
 had crossed the mighty range to the north, now 
 dwarfed by distance into little, fantastic hills of pur- 
 ple cotton. Both horses and men were gray with 
 dust. The horses snorted from time to time, to blow 
 the biting alkali from their nostrils. The men's 
 throats were bricky dry, too; and yet the taller of 
 the two hummed a song. Ahead of them green trees 
 beckoned. It was the fringe of stunted cedars that 
 had been their sign-post all morning long. They 
 expected to find water and grass in the Timbered 
 Buttes. Beyond that, they had no plans. 
 
 Abruptly they began climbing the bench lands. 
 Their circle of vision widened. They topped the crest, 
 and the country of the Little Washoe burst upon 
 them. Paradise Valley spread out in a gigantic horse- 
 shoe. A range, the Santa Rosas, banked three sides 
 
 3 
 
 M69670 
 
4 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 of it, the never-failing willows marking where Rebel 
 Creek came tumbling out of the hills at the apex 
 of the horseshoe, and being deftly turned, swung off 
 to the right, hugging the base of the hills until it 
 met the river that crossed the valley from one end 
 of the horseshoe to the other. 
 
 Tired and thirsty as he was, the tall man stopped 
 for a brief second to appraise that wonderful valley. 
 
 "Aia't that a sweet country, Shorty?" he mur- 
 mured to the short, bandy-legged man, hard of face 
 and slow of speech, who rode beside him. 
 
 Shorty's answer was a grunt. He glanced with a 
 trace of annoyance at the suave, whimsical Buck; 
 and yet he pulled his horse to a halt. It was sig- 
 nificant. In this, as in all things, he followed the 
 other. Bodine had won from him such allegiance 
 as Shorty had little expected to give to any man. 
 
 Early yesterday morning, over the Oregon line at 
 Denio, and again last night at the old Ashdown mine 
 they had feasted. Bodine had talked much of Oregon 
 and little of Idaho or Wyoming; but if the truth 
 were told, he had seen almost nothing of Oregon and 
 a great deal of Idaho and Wyoming in the past year. 
 They had been harried sore in their old haunts. 
 They were in a new country. Buck felt that he 
 could afford to smile. 
 
 "Yes, sir/' he exclaimed. "This country suits 
 me. No railroads, no telegraph, no talk ; just a dinky 
 local telephone line. We 11 stay here and 'Let the 
 rest of the world go by.' ' He hummed the words 
 of that popular song of the day. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 5 
 
 The grass was good in the buttes. They camped 
 there. Life grew rosy again. But even such security 
 and ease as was theirs began to pall. For two nights 
 they had watched the twinkling lights which marked 
 the little town of Paradise. The lure was insistent, 
 and on the third evening they rode into the town 
 and to Benavides's bar. 
 
 Benavides was a Basque, and most of his customers 
 were of the same blood. Bodine and Shorty found 
 the place filled; freighters, sheep-men, the Basque 
 genie, and a sprinkling of Double A boys comprised 
 the crowd. 
 
 Buck and Shorty edged to the bar and waited. In 
 all that room no man knew them! Their pleasure 
 in the evening grew accordingly. But still they 
 waited, and now to their displeasure. One-eyed 
 Manuel, the Mexican bartender, was busy elsewhere. 
 The delay irked Bodine. Catching the butt of his 
 glowing cigarette between thumb and forefinger, he 
 shot it straight as a bullet into Manuel's face. The 
 red-hot coal burned into the poor wretch 's cheek with 
 the sting of a knife slash. The Mexican slapped it 
 to the floor. Murder flared in his heart, but some- 
 thing metallic in Buck's eyes made him pause. 
 
 "Move, you greaser, or I '11 bring you to life in 
 a hurry," Bodine warned. 
 
 Manuel's hand trembled as he set out the glasses for 
 the two strangers. He smiled evilly. Things were 
 too even now. "Wait; time would bring an opportu- 
 nity when the odds would be all his way, so caution 
 counseled him. 
 
6 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 The incident had passed quite unnoticed by the 
 crowd. Wash Taylor, a ragged old mule-skinner, had 
 been one of the very few to observe it. He laughed 
 immoderately. Wash was an unmoral old person, 
 all life being raw to him. When Buck bade him 
 drink, he acquiesced with alacrity. 
 
 Shorty had to grin to himself at the adroitness 
 with which Bodine drew from the old skinner the 
 complete history of the valley. 
 
 "I 'm sort of lookin' round for a place," Buck was 
 saying. "If I could find a small ranch hereabouts 
 at the right price, I might be interested." 
 
 This was news to Shorty. He half suspected that 
 Buck was merely talking, but he spoke with such 
 conviction that the bandy-legged one eyed him curi- 
 ously. 
 
 "You won't find no place for sale round here; that 
 is, with water on it. And water 's gold in this coun- 
 try." 
 
 "It's gold, and precious stones, and the whole damn 
 works," Buck asserted. " Without it you and your 
 stock have only got a big thirst." 
 
 "Fact is, water or no water, the only place for 
 sale in this hull valley is the old Webster ranch. 
 No water there at all now. Used to be plenty in the 
 old days." 
 
 Wash drained his glass. 
 
 "Used to be some place then. Hank owned due 
 west from where Rebel Creek forked into the Webster. 
 Maybe you've seen those dead willows stringin' across 
 the valley 1 They follow the dry wash that used to be 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 7 
 
 "Webster Creek. Wa'n't another ranch below him 
 clear to the river. He had all the water. A cloud- 
 burst changed that in one night. Water came rushin' 
 down carryin' ever 'thin ' before it. When it was 
 all over, Hank found the mouth of the Webster 
 damned up like a mason had done the job. Rebel 
 Creek has been some stream ever since. That was a 
 long time ago." 
 
 Wash paused to ponder over that miracle. 
 
 "Yep," he went on, " there was the hull valley 
 changed overnight. Hank moaned and cursed. 
 Nothin' doin'! The courts could n't go back on old 
 Mother Nature. Say," he queried, " ain't the lawyers 
 got sumthin' to cover a trick like that? The 'accom- 
 plished fact'? Well, it was that, all right. That 
 there 'accomplished fact' made Paradise Valley. 
 Look at those ranches bedded down along the Rebel 
 clear to the Washoe. Pretty near all Basques down 
 there. I ain't so fond of them; but they know how 
 to work. I guess nature knew her business. She 
 most generally does." 
 
 "What happened to Hank?" Buck demanded. 
 
 "Oh, Hank gave up the ship. He 's runnin' a 
 store down in Golconda, accordin' to last reports. 
 He tried to sell his place; but shucks, you couldn't 
 give that ranch away." 
 
 By the time they left, the sleek Bodine, with his 
 piercing black eyes and jaunty manner, could have 
 retailed the past history of the valley. Old man 
 Webster's passing particularly interested Buck. For 
 a day it worried and then obsessed him. 
 
8 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "Why did lie let go without a fight T" he repeatedly 
 asked the puzzled Shorty. "It don't sound right to 
 me. Somebody wanted to get him out of the way; 
 some friend! There ain't no big cattle outfit here 
 except the Double A. Maybe they wanted to grab 
 it; but ten years is a long time to wait. Nobody 
 seems to have made a move in all that time. I 
 tell you this thing just gets my nanny. " 
 
 "Don't make no difference to us," Shorty grum- 
 bled. "We got other things to worry about. " 
 
 "Don't make no difference?" Buck exclaimed. 
 "Why don't it? I smell easy money here." 
 
 Shorty and he came down from the hills and camped 
 at the deserted ranch. The obsession grew on Bodine. 
 Shorty, in his dumb way, tried to follow the work- 
 ings of Bodine 's nimble mind. On the morning of 
 the second day Buck came to a decision. He called 
 Shorty to his side. 
 
 "I 'm going into Winnemucca and have a look at 
 the county records. If old Webster made a filing 
 on his water rights, I 'm going to buy him out. 
 You wait here; I may be back to-morrow. If I go 
 to Golconda to see Webster, I may be gone a week. 
 You wait a week. If I don't come back by then, 
 you find Gloomy and go over into the Malheur Lake 
 country. ' ' 
 
 The filing had been made. The State of Nevada 
 guaranteed to Henry Webster the right to use a 
 minimum of fourteen miner's inches of water from 
 Webster Creek. 
 
 Bodine 's enthusiasm for the deal in hand soared. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 9 
 
 Even the State was on record that there were water 
 rights along Webster Creek ! 
 
 Five days later Bodine returned. Behind him 
 lumbered a freighter, bringing the tools and neces- 
 saries of life. Shorty shook his head. No need to 
 ask; Bodine had done as he had said he would. 
 
 Shorty found his tongue then, and what he said 
 was to the point. He wiped the perspiration from his 
 forehead. 
 
 "This is the cuckoo," he stated. "You'll be 
 gettin' married next." 
 
 "You watch my smoke," Bodine answered know- 
 ingly. "I '11 grow dollars on this little old ranch; 
 before I 'm through you '11 see that creek runnin* 
 full of water. We 're goin' to be so respectable it 11 
 hurt. But you sit tight and keep still. You 're my 
 hired man from now on. Somebody 's goin' to wake 
 up one of these mornin's to find us sittin' right on 
 his tail." 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 IN a thinly settled country, where every man's 
 movements are marked, news spreads quickly. 
 People talked and wondered about Bodine. Who was 
 he, and what foolish ambition led him to try his luck 
 on such a hopeless place? 
 
 Of all those who watched and wondered no one was 
 more interested than Dick Acklin, the Big Boss of the 
 Double A. He had been quite content to see old 
 man Webster go. For ten years the Double A had 
 taken both its own and his share of water from Rebel 
 Creek. Even so, it did not suffice. Acklin 's crying 
 need was more water. Many times he had been in- 
 clined to buy in the Webster place, but it was so 
 worthless that he had never taken it seriously. 
 Bodine 's buying it awakened old misgivings. Acklin 
 knew that the right man could make him a lot of 
 trouble. Webster's water rights might still be made 
 the basis of a long, expensive lawsuit. 
 
 He stood it as long as he could; and then, instead 
 of bearding Bodine, he rode to the Rancho Buena 
 Vista to see the Senor Arrascada. The old Basque 
 met him as a friend. Jose was the most powerful of 
 the Basque genie. The patriarchal old man abated 
 not one whit of his dignity in the presence of his 
 powerful neighbor. Acklin, indeed, was a frequent 
 visitor. The Rancho Buena Yista did honor in his 
 
 10 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 11 
 
 behalf. And, yet, more often, the feudal lord came 
 to do honor to the Sefiorita Mercedes, its beautiful 
 mistress. 
 
 The hacienda was a low, rambling structure, its 
 wings enclosing a patio which, to all practical pur- 
 poses, made the rear of the house the front. 
 
 Acklin surveyed it with a trace of envy. The cool, 
 quiet, half -darkened house was a relief after the noise 
 and glare of the Bull's Head. Jose led him to the 
 patio, where cool zephyrs seemed eternally playing. 
 With a sigh of relief Acklin sank into the big, com- 
 fortable chair his host offered. The old man clapped 
 his hands, and the wrinkled, leathery Mariano, his 
 mozo, or house-boy, came on the run. Jose sent him 
 for refreshments. Almost instantly he was back, bear- 
 ing tall, tinkling glasses of cool delight. 
 
 They sipped their drinks in silence. From where 
 they sat they could hear the crooning waters of Rebel 
 Creek, seventy-five yards away. Acklin 's eyes roamed 
 the patio, with its beds of Indian pinks and lupines. 
 A cleverly contrived ditch brought its life-giving 
 waters to the flowers. From the shelter of its grassy 
 banks a frog croaked querulously. 
 
 Jose offered him one of his choice cigars. 
 
 "My friend/' he asked, "what brings you to the 
 Rancho Buena Vista this time ; business, or pleasure ? ' ' 
 
 "It 's always a pleasure to come here, Senor. But 
 business; that 's something else. By the way," and 
 Acklin 's big, blue eyes contracted until they seemed 
 to shade to gray, "have you seen the fellow who 
 bought the old Webster place?" 
 
' 12 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 " Several times. He 's here to-day, down at the 
 corral. Esteban and the vaqueros are breaking 
 horses. ' ' 
 
 "What 's his game?' 7 Acklin snapped. 
 
 "Senor, the man is no fool! I sold him a bull two 
 days ago. He haggled over the price to the last 
 penny. I think he will do what he says he will do." 
 
 " Humph! He 's a fool! "Where is he going to 
 get his water? A well? That makes me laugh. I 
 wouldn't take that ranch as a gift. As a matter of 
 fact, have n't you warned half a dozen of your people 
 against taking it?" 
 
 "That is true, my friend," Jose asserted. "Yon 
 remember how the creek used to lose itself in the 
 quicksands below the house? "Webster tried to save 
 that water many times; but everywhere he turned 
 he found quicksand. I am afraid a well there would 
 fill up as soon as it was dug." 
 
 ' ' There you are ! ' ' Acklin got to his feet. He was 
 a big man, good to look at and younger than his 
 appearance implied. "Did you tell him about the 
 quicksand ? ' ' 
 
 "Si! He said it did n't worry him 'none,' I think 
 he said." 
 
 "Of course not; it 's a game. You mark my 
 words. What 's he going after; sheep or cattle?" 
 
 Old Ironsides smiled. 
 
 "No more sheep, my friend. Don't let that worry 
 you. But enough of this man Bodine. How is every- 
 thing at the Bull's Head?" 
 
 " Oh, so-so. Still losing a lot of calves." 
 
WHISPEEING SAGE 13 
 
 "My people, I hope, are not suspected?" 
 
 "No. We are losing them in the other direction, 
 toward the Owyhee." 
 
 The talk drifted to cattle and the crops. The old 
 Basque had a sense of poise and a choice of words 
 that enabled him to hold his own with the college-bred 
 Acklin. 
 
 A little tot of six, unnoticed by them as they talked, 
 had felt his way upon the veranda. His sensitive 
 fingers touched each familiar table and chair, as if 
 they were sign-posts to his unseeing eyes. The mur- 
 mur of his father's voice told his keen ears where 
 the gray-haired Jose sat. With uncanny swiftness 
 the boy made his way toward him. Once he almost 
 stumbled, and the sound of his scuffing feet caught 
 the old man's ears. Instantly the father arose, and 
 lifted the little fellow up to him. 
 
 "El hi jo mio," he said tenderly. "Those bad 
 chairs are always in the way, eh?" 
 
 The boy rubbed his bruised leg and laughed as his 
 father petted him. He was a beautiful child. His 
 brown, staring eyes made a mute appeal to friend and 
 foe. 
 
 For close to five years, Jose had been both father 
 and mother to the little blind Basilio. In spite of 
 all his size and strength, it was with the delicate 
 touch of a woman that the old Basque caressed the 
 child. 
 
 Acklin stretched out his hands to the boy. 
 
 "How is my little buckaroo to-day?" he asked 
 playfully. 
 
14 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "Fine," the child answered timidly, but he made 
 no attempt to go to him. 
 
 "It is Senor Acklin, mno mio," the old man 
 prompted. "Can't you shake hands with the 
 Senor?" 
 
 Basilio did as he was bid. Acklin had often tried 
 to make friends with him; but the boy held aloof as 
 if he sensed with that faculty the blind possess an 
 enemy, rather than a friend, in the big cow-man. 
 
 His father set the boy down at his feet. From the 
 fence at the end of the patio, a magpie scolded in 
 raucous tones. Basilio knew that particular magpie. 
 In a flash he slid off the steps and ran down the 
 graveled walk of the patio. There were no chairs or 
 tables to trip him there. As he ran he cawed and 
 shrieked, until the patio seemed alive with magpies. 
 
 When he had almost reached the fastness of the 
 vine-covered fence, a black head bobbed up beyond it, 
 and calling again, dashed up a side-path of the gar- 
 den, with the boy in keen pursuit. It was the Senorita 
 Mercedes. Hair flying, her skirts tucked up about 
 her, she fled helter-skelter around the patio until she 
 dropped in a heap. A second later and Basilio was 
 upon her, pulling her hair and showering her with 
 fine spray from the tiny ditch. 
 
 This romp was a daily pastime. From the veranda 
 Jose and Acklin watched. Old Ironsides pretended 
 to be shocked with such conduct in the presence of 
 his distinguished visitor ; at the same time he gloried 
 in their fun. Acklin laughed. He had had evidence 
 enough of the tomboy spirit of the beautiful girl. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 15 
 
 Jose would have been surprised if he had known that 
 the mighty Acklin had felt the sharpness of her tongue 
 more than once. 
 
 In answer to her father's call she came up the steps 
 truculently, the boy hanging on to the ribbons of her 
 dress. 
 
 "Querida, you are worse than a boy," the old man 
 scolded. "What kind of play is this, before our 
 guest?" 
 
 She laughed mischievously, her black eyes snapping. 
 She flashed them belligerently at Acklin. He had 
 never seen her more beautiful; her gleaming teeth, 
 well rounded shoulders and bust, and warm lips all 
 made her adorable. 
 
 "You come to see me, huh?" she asked. 
 
 Acklin blushed. It was disconcerting to say the 
 least. 
 
 The fact that he might be coming so regularly to 
 the Rancho Buena Vista to see its mistress had begun 
 to dawn on old Jose some time back. He had proved 
 how astute he was by not saying a word. What an 
 alliance that would be! Mercedes would in reality 
 be the queen of the land then. But now that his 
 daughter had blurted out her tomboy question, he 
 blushed as furiously as Acklin. 
 
 The uncomfortable visitor tried to turn her blunt 
 question at her expense. 
 
 "Now what else could bring me all the way from 
 the Bull's Head? Why, Miss Mercedes, without you 
 the Rancho Buena Vista would be deserted. You 
 lure all of us here." 
 
16 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "The Senor Bodine he say that, too. ( Si, Senorita,' 
 he say, 'you are a little desert rose.' 'The love of 
 Mike,' I say. 'You try to squeeze my hand again, 
 this desert rose stick her thorns in you. ' ' ' 
 
 "The rogue!" Jose scolded. 
 
 "What hurt that make?" she demanded. "I like 
 very much to have man squeeze my hand if he is 
 nice man." 
 
 Jose shook his finger at her. Mercedes was 
 thoroughly enjoying herself. Acklin got to his feet. 
 He knew she was watching him. 
 
 "When you try that, eh?" she asked saucily. 
 
 "Stop inmediamente! Enough!" her father cried. 
 "You are a hopeless minx. You 11 not stay for sup- 
 per, Senor?" 
 
 "No, I 11 be getting back, I guess." 
 
 The old Basque caught up Basilio and said good- 
 by to his guest, pleading the need of his presence 
 elsewhere. Jose knew that extreme youth and old 
 age are not handmaidens to love. Acklin watched the 
 stately old man out of sight. Mercedes had caught 
 up a guitar and was strumming it idly. 
 
 The shadows began to creep along the veranda, but 
 both she and the tall man leaning against the stone 
 pillar seemed unmindful of them. The hour and the 
 stillness had taken Mercedes to the knee of the beauti- 
 ful mother who had sat here years ago and sung 
 these same tunes to her. 
 
 All of the wild, tomboy side of her dropped away, 
 leaving her the sweet, emotional little chatelaine her 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 17 
 
 mother had prayed she might be. The lightly held 
 guitar fell to her lap. 
 
 Acklin sat down beside her. l ' Sing some more, ' ' he 
 pleaded. 
 
 Mercedes shook her head. 
 
 "Why you always come see me?" she demanded. 
 
 1 ' I 've got something for you, ' ' Acklin smiled. 
 
 "A present?" 
 
 Acklin held up a small package. He waved it in 
 front of her eyes, as one does with a toy for a child. 
 Mercedes clapped her hands joyfully. She started to 
 unwrap it, when she stopped short. 
 
 "Why you bring me presents, huh?" she de- 
 manded. 
 
 "I er why " Acklin was flustered. He had 
 foreseen this moment, but his rehearsed speech failed 
 him. Her eyes dared him to go on with it. 
 
 "You'll let me bring you a little present now and 
 then, won't you, ninaf" 
 
 It was a lame effort to turn her question, and she 
 laughed in glee. 
 
 "You like me so much, mister?" she pursued. 
 
 "You know I do. This little present came all the 
 way from the city." 
 
 "City" in that country meant San Francisco. 
 
 From the tissue-paper, Mercedes drew forth a tiny 
 vanity-case. Her nimble fingers found the spring 
 that unlocked it. With delight she glimpsed the 
 dainty articles the case contained. 
 
 Acklin knew Mercedes was pleased. 
 
18 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "What you call that?" she murmured. 
 
 "A vanity-case. Quite the thing in the city." 
 
 "Those things to make your lips and cheeks red 
 that 's vanity, huh?" 
 
 She laughed heartily. Acklin was forced to smile 
 at her naivete. Mercedes tried to release the small 
 compartment that held the powder-puff. Acklin 
 reached out his hand to help her. She felt his fingers 
 pressing her own. In a flash she jerked her hand 
 away. 
 
 "You 're foxy, huh, like the Senor Bodine?" she 
 cried. 
 
 "Oh, damn Bodine," Acklin rasped out. 
 
 "Eavesdroppers hear no good of themselves," a 
 voice answered in unctuous sweetness. 
 
 Mercedes and Acklin turned. Bodine lounged 
 against a pillar at the end of the veranda. He had 
 been, an interested witness of the present-making. 
 Acklin acknowledged the introduction with a curt 
 nod of his head. Buck grinned. A less hardy man 
 than Bodine would have wilted under the look of 
 contempt with which she swept him from head to 
 foot. 
 
 "So, Mr. Fresh! For once you tell the truth, 
 huh?" 
 
 "I sure did n't know I was intruding on any party, 
 Senorita. I just came up to say good-by. I broke 
 that bad gray for Esteban. That caballo 11 be gentle 
 enough for you to ride now." 
 
 Acklin got to his feet. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 19 
 
 "Well, I guess I '11 get my hat and run along," 
 he said, in that tired way which was common with 
 him. 
 
 Bodine waited until the big cow-man was out of 
 ear-shot. 
 
 In a voice that held all the intimacy he could put 
 into it, he whispered, "He 'd be a great catch for 
 you, little girl." 
 
 His sedulous eyes appraised her as they had at 
 their first meeting. All women interested Bodine, 
 but not in quite the particular way that she did. It 
 was because of Mercedes that he cultivated her 
 brother, Esteban. 
 
 "You think so, eh?" she asked tauntingly. "For 
 why I want to catch him?" She stamped her foot 
 angrily. 
 
 Bodine bent over her : "You can trust me, querida; 
 I won't tell." 
 
 "Trust you," she mimicked. "I wouldn't trust 
 you that far." She snapped her fingers to show 
 him. 
 
 Buck grinned. There was a charm, a certain air 
 of ease, here at the Rancho Buena Vista that had 
 eluded Bodine all his life; something from which it 
 seemed he had been excluded. It nettled him. 
 
 Mercedes caught the thought in his eyes. 
 
 "You 're plumb beautiful when you get het up, 
 Miss Mercedes," he said insidiously. "I hope to ad- 
 mire you are. I like spirit in a woman, same as I do 
 in a horse." 
 
20 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 ' * You like to break that spirit, too, huh ? You best 
 not try those trick on me. You make me what you 
 call tired. " 
 
 Like an angry terrier, she flounced out of her chair, 
 and left Bodine to himself. She slammed the screen 
 door behind her. 
 
 * * Burn up, you little she-devil, ' ' he muttered under 
 his breath. "I bet I 11 break you of that before 
 I 'm through." 
 
 Acklin came along then, and they walked to their 
 horses together. 
 
 " Which way you going?" Bodine asked. 
 
 " Back to the Bull's Head." 
 
 "I '11 side you as far as the Webster, if you have 
 no objection." 
 
 "No harm in that," Acklin answered. "Come 
 along." 
 
CHAPTEE III 
 
 ACKLIN was anxious to talk to Bodine. Esteban 
 waved them good-by as they cantered away. 
 
 Buck was the first to break the silence. 
 
 "Nice little bag of tricks back there. " 
 
 He laughed. Acklin looked at him, but did not 
 answer. 
 
 "Her bosco dad might hold her down to conven- 
 tion," the other went on. "But her mother 's white 
 blood might make her listen to reason. " He paused 
 until he was sure Acklin followed him. "That is, 
 if the Big Boss used a little reason. " 
 
 "What are you hinting at?" Acklin demanded 
 peremptorily. 
 
 "You don't mean to tell me you are serious with 
 that kid, do you?" 
 
 They were walking their horses. Acklin pulled up. 
 He held Bodine 's eye. 
 
 "Suppose we leave her out of this," he said icily. 
 
 "It 's none of my business, Acklin. I just won- 
 dered what your game was." 
 
 "What 's yours?" 
 
 Acklin drove his question home so suddenly that 
 Bodine was stumped for an answer. 
 
 "Well," he said at last, "now we are getting 
 somewheres. ' ' 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 21 
 
22 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "Oh, nothing; only these foreigners seem to be 
 damned prosperous around here, don't they? From 
 your nest at the Bull's Head, these ranches down 
 here must look pretty sweet. What a place this 
 valley would be to fatten cattle in. And to think that 
 you could have had it for a song." 
 
 Bodine clucked his tongue at the pity of it. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 Acklin's patience was running out. 
 
 "Those Basques have got the water that belongs 
 to me by rights. You know that, Acklin." 
 
 "Why don't you go after it, then?" 
 
 "I 'm going after it. Don't let that worry you. 
 And if you are half as wise as I think you are, 
 Acklin, I '11 get it. All I want is a little Double A 
 backing, to put this deal through." 
 
 Acklin's eyes contracted. His surmise had been 
 correct. 
 
 "You make me smile, Bodine," he said. "The 
 Double A isn't pulling coals out of the fire for 
 others. You '11 run bang into the law if you touch 
 that water. ' ' 
 
 "Law! Say, I 've got all the law I need. The 
 county records say I am entitled to fourteen inches. 
 But why talk of law? If you '11 back me up, the 
 law will be the last thing to worry about." 
 
 ' ' I don 't Imow how you figure to cut me in, Bodine ; 
 but you don't think I 'd be a party to a deal to do 
 these people out of their water, do you?" 
 
 Bodine almost fell off his horse as Acklin uttered 
 his sanctimonious words. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 23 
 
 "0 hell!" he cried impatiently. "Say, Acklin, do 
 you think I am a fool ? Listen to me ; I 'm no Basque ! 
 Maybe you can get away with that drivel on them. 
 You flew off your handle a little while back when I 
 tried to twit you about that Basque kid. As if I 
 did n 't know you were only playing ! Tell me when 
 the Double A ever held out a helping hand to a 
 bosco? Why, if you could grab up these ranches 
 down here for a song, you 'd do it quicker than scat. 
 I know how things have gone along this creek. These 
 Basques have caught you, time after time, taking 
 more than your share of water. You need it! You 
 ought to have twice as much as you Ve got. You 'd 
 like to get every drop of it; but even with your pull 
 in the courts you 're afraid to tackle this. It isn't 
 old Arrascada and his crowd who Ve held you back. 
 No, sir ! It 's those ranchers along the Little Washoe. 
 This creek is their big alee. Without it, that river 
 would be bone-dry by July. That 's why the sign 
 is up, 'Hands Off !' : Bodine paused for breath. 
 "Well," he went on, "now that we understand each 
 other, can we go on with this conversation without 
 any more of that Sunday-school stuff ? ' ' 
 
 Acklin smiled; but his eyes were gray, instead of 
 their accustomed blue. The smile meant nothing. 
 
 "Seeing you-Jre fully grown," he said, "I 11 waive 
 the * Sunday-school stuff/ What have you got up 
 your sleeve?" 
 
 "Just this, Acklin. You and I can get every inch 
 of water there is in this creek. And we 11 make the 
 law help us. I '11 get the water I need, and you '11 
 
24 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 get enough to irrigate the entire upper end of the 
 valley. Soon as these Basques find their water is 
 gone, they 11 throw up the sponge. Of course they '11 
 fight for a while ; but in the end you 11 buy up their 
 places for a package of gum. Now, if you 're willing 
 to talk turkey, you come to my place in the morn- 
 ing. Think it over. No need telling you what I 've 
 got on my mind, if you 're not interested. . . . I 'm 
 going to leave you here. . . . Adios." 
 
 Acklin rode on. When he reached the Bull's Head 
 he retired to the little room that served him as an 
 office, and smoked many pipefuls as he pondered over 
 the astuteness of Mr. Bodine. 
 
 What the fellow had told him did not cause Acklin 
 a moment's worry. He had said nothing but what 
 the merest tyro in Paradise knew of his needs and 
 dreams. But while he dismissed Bodine 's talk lightly, 
 he took the man seriously enough. 
 
 "He 's a blow-hard," he muttered to himself. 
 "He 's theatrical; he '11 be a bad loser, too. Yes, sir, 
 Bodine, your ego is entirely too large. I think you '11 
 cheat, but will you shoot and inquire afterwards; 
 or do it in the back, and make the inquiring un- 
 necessary? Well, we '11 see. I shouldn't wonder but 
 you 're the bird I have been waiting for. ' ' 
 
 The Webster Creek rancher had touched fire to 
 plans long dormant in Acklin 's mind. He smiled at 
 Bodine 's patronizing of him. If what Bodine had 
 to tell him was as he expected, he knew the final 
 outcome would be such that a little lording now by 
 that individual was a cheap enough price to pay. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 25 
 
 In the clean blue and white morning Acklin rode 
 to Webster Creek. Far off down the valley the white- 
 washed buildings of the Rancho Buena Vista and its 
 distant neighbors glistened in the sun. Lowering 
 skies with their sinister clouds of black would have 
 been more appropriate for this meeting. 
 
 "All right, Acklin," Bodine answered in reply to 
 the other's question. "I 11 put my cards on the 
 table. Here they are. I 'm going to turn that water 
 back into the Webster ! I 've been over the spot where 
 the creeks used to fork a hundred times. Nature 
 changed that water in one night. I '11 do it quicker 
 than that. There is nothing but sand and small rock 
 there. Two days after it is done, no man on earth 
 can prove that old lady Nature did n't twist it for the 
 second time. These Basques were satisfied to take 
 what she gave them once. By God, they 11 have to 
 be satisfied a second time! I won't have any cloud- 
 burst to help me out. They can think I turned it; 
 but they won't be able to prove it; not if I can keep 
 them away for a few days. Remember all the time, 
 too, that the State says I am to have fourteen inches 
 of water here. No one has ever proved that I have n 't 
 the right by law to turn that water back. Only, 
 when I turn it back, I 'm going to turn all of it. 
 That 's where you are going to be interested. Web- 
 ster Creek peters out in that sink two miles below 
 here. Once the water is in this creek it isn't 'con- 
 tiguous water' to any stream on earth. Between us, 
 we 11 take what we please and let the balance go to 
 the devil. My boys will be here in a day or so, they '11 
 
26 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 do this job. They won't talk either. I '11 tip you 
 off the night I intend to do it. You be there, or send 
 your foreman. Just so I '11 know I don't stand 
 alone." 
 
 Bodine bent over and picked up a stick. With it 
 he drew in the sand at his feet a rough map of the 
 valley. 
 
 "It 's almost due east from here to the old forks 
 of these creeks. But right here, just as Webster 
 Creek neared the other one, it turned north. For 
 almost half a mile they paralleled each other before 
 they met. Your line follows this creek across the 
 valley, only it keeps straight on right into those foot- 
 hills. That means that Webster Creek flowed through 
 your property for that half-mile. That 's right, 
 ain't it?" 
 
 Acklin nodded in assent. 
 
 "Well, when the night comes I want you to have 
 your men ride your line. Don't let any one through. 
 Keep your boys there for a few days. Pass the word 
 that some one 's runnin ' an iron on your stuff. That '11 
 be excuse enough. We '11 be safe then." 
 
 "But what about the morning after? As soon as 
 the water drops the Basques will come on the run. 
 They won't wait for the law." 
 
 f l Let 'em come ! It means a fortune to us. We 've 
 got to expect a fight. There '11 be gun-play and hell 
 for fair. I 'm willing to risk it. Are you ? ' ' 
 
 Acklin got to his feet and brushed the dust from 
 his corduroys. 
 
 "Bodine," he said, "you underestimate what this 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 27 
 
 fight will be. Old Jose will rally his crowd around 
 him for a real war. They can't live without that 
 water. I Ve been through these affairs before; I 
 know what they mean. There will be reprisals; cat- 
 tle will be killed or run off. It will take a lot of 
 my men. The whole routine of the place will be 
 scrambled ; and that 's got to be ironed out before 
 the fall round-up is on. You keep still for a couple 
 days. I 11 give you my answer then." 
 
 Although by this arrangement the matter rested, 
 neither man waited to act. 
 
 Acklin had not even reached home before Bodine 
 had started Shorty on his way to the Malheur Lakes, 
 to find Gloomy and his other men. And once Acklin 
 had reached the Bull's Head, he immediately sent for 
 Morrow, his foreman. 
 
 "Cash," he said, "we 've been thick-headed. This 
 fellow Bodine has put his finger on the thing we 
 should have seen first shot." 
 
 He repeated their conversation to him. 
 
 ' * Don 't that beat all ! " Cash exclaimed. ' ' With all 
 of the water flowing into the Webster, and petering 
 out in the sink, why, we wouldn't have to give a 
 whoop for those fellows down on the Washoe. Web- 
 ster Creek and the Little Washoe River don't get 
 within ten miles of each other. It was just a case of 
 whole hog or none. We 're getting too refined. ' ' 
 
 "Well, I 'm tempted to risk it, Cash. Suppose we 
 string along for a while. Let him and his men do 
 the actual work. You just drop around about the 
 time they are there you know, casual-like if you 
 
28 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 ever have to swear to it. In the meantime send some 
 of the boys down to the Benoist water-hole. We are 
 having trouble enough with the calves. Don't tell 
 them anything else is in the wind. Give them the 
 word not to let any one through. Make Skip the 
 straw-boss down there. I rather fancy him. We can 
 go that far without a hitch. If Bodine turns the 
 water, you run a drift fence along our line across the 
 valley. Straight east and west with those dead trees 
 is near enough. We 've got the wire and posts. Most 
 of the boys will be back from the north to-morrow. 
 You can get that fence up in a hurry if you have 
 to." 
 
 "You leave that to me," Cash cut in. "Soon as 
 the fence is up I '11 drive enough stock into the 
 valley to make that fence look on the square. Say, 
 sounds like old times, getting ready for a war like 
 this. How your pa enjoyed it. But honest, I hate 
 to see Old Ironsides get it in the neck. Old Jose is 
 such a white Basque. But as your pa used to say, 
 'Business is like marriage. You got to take the bitter 
 with the sweet. ' ' ' 
 
 Acklin turned back to his desk when Morrow had 
 left. He pursed his lips as he thought of Jose and 
 Mercedes. If this deal went through and with his 
 money and political power, it would, well, she 'd be 
 his to a certainty. Paradise Valley would be his. 
 He 'd be its feudal lord even as he was the lord now 
 of a domain larger than the Balkans. 
 
 The thought brought the perspiration to his brow. 
 He was about to steal from her; but he stole as did 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 29 
 
 the robber barons of old, from the many, that he might 
 have riches to pour into the lap of his favorite one. 
 
 But all his musing carried one reservation; he re- 
 mained the lord! 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 TEN days later a stranger crossed the desert from 
 Golconda. He headed due north for the Benoist 
 water-hole. He knew he was entering Paradise Val- 
 ley by forbidden ways. The hint that he take the 
 south road had reached him a day back. 
 
 Rumor said the Double A was losing untold num- 
 bers of calves. Therefore crossing Double A country 
 without the official Acklin "0. K." was not being 
 done. Henry Adams and old man Acklin had been 
 monarchs of more than they surveyed, both figura- 
 tively and actually, for so long that no one questioned 
 any right the Double A arrogated to itself. 
 
 They had learned early in life that though it is 
 well to know the law, it is even better to know the 
 judge. Other cow outfits had disappeared, but the 
 mighty Double A empire had survived, proving that 
 the younger Acklin had learned his lesson well. 
 
 It was not the stranger's whim to oppose him. By 
 the merest chance he had taken the north fork at 
 "Wyand's. The willows ahead of him, he surmised, 
 marked the water-hole. North, over the rise, he would' 
 find the valley. 
 
 He sent his horse ahead at a hard gallop. He found 
 that the spring had made a small pool in the willows. 
 He swung to the ground and loosened the cinches, 
 but almost instantly the animal lifted his dripping 
 
 30 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 31 
 
 muzzle and turned an inquiring eye behind him. The 
 stranger followed suit. In the shadow of the trees 
 two men sat. 
 
 The older of the two, a black-visaged fellow, spoke : 
 " Howdy, stranger !" 
 
 It was Skip Lavelle, Acklin's straw-boss. 
 
 * 'Howdy!" Kildare responded in the same flat, tell- 
 nothing tone in which he had been accosted. His keen 
 eyes took in the rifles reposing so conveniently in 
 their laps, the soiled cards, and the interrupted game 
 of monte. 
 
 The man who had addressed him got to his feet. 
 
 "What 's your name, stranger?" 
 
 "Kildare; Blaze Kildare." 
 
 "Yuh ain't aimin' to linger around here, be yah?" 
 
 Blaze eyed him thoughtfully as he drawled his re- 
 ply: "Why, that all depends, don't it?" 
 
 He turned and started to lift the saddle off his 
 horse. 
 
 "No use takin' that down, mister; nary nit!" 
 
 For answer, Kildare pulled it to the ground. 
 
 "Now listen to me, muchacho," he purred. "I 'm 
 going to breathe my horse, and we 're going to drink 
 our bellies full of water before we light out of here. 
 What 's all the big excite, anyways. I got a permit 
 to cross this country." 
 
 "Let 's see it," Skip and the other, Chet Devine, 
 demanded. 
 
 "Now what did I do with that permit?" 
 
 He took his hat off, and peered into it. 
 
 "Oh, yes!" He laughed. "Here it is!" 
 
32 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 And in his hand Kildare held a derringer that had 
 been strapped in his sombrero. 
 
 " Stick 'em up!" he said in velvety tones. 
 
 "Well, I '11 be damned!" Skip began. 
 
 He stopped short, and instinctively Blaze sensed 
 that some one was back of him ; but he dared not turn 
 around. Before Skip could recover his tongue, a 
 voice droned in sweet and dreadful tones in Kildare 's 
 ear: "That 's good! That's awfully good! It's 
 your turn to elevate, stranger!" 
 
 Blaze felt a gun-barrel boring into his neck. He 
 obliged with alacrity. With nimble fingers his guns 
 were taken from him. 
 
 This detail attended to, the man at his back con- 
 tinued not unpleasantly: 
 
 "Take your hands down, and shake. I 'm Cash 
 Morrow, the foreman of the outfit these innocent little 
 lambs belong to; but I can appreciate art when I 
 see it. Shake!" 
 
 The bronzed, lean, sinewy Cash, for all his years, 
 was a fit mate for the big man before him. Kildare 
 grinned at him as Cash handed back his guns. 
 
 "Sure 'nough. I didn't know I was giving a 
 show," he said easily, with the familiarity bred of 
 the desert. I 'm mighty sorry I discommoded your 
 boys, Cash. I thought maybe they were some of those 
 Basque sheepmen I hear this valley is loaded up 
 with." 
 
 The delicious twinkle, which was one of his happiest 
 mannerisms, came into Kildare 's eyes as he uttered 
 this rank falsehood. Chet and Skip were as uncom- 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 33 
 
 fortable as two bashful schoolboys. A laugh from the 
 direction of the lower end of the willows was little 
 calculated to restore their equanimity. 
 
 " Basque sheepmen !" a voice .cried mockingly. 
 
 A freckled face topped by a shock of red hair ap- 
 peared above a green mahogany bush. The red- 
 haired one sized up Blaze. 
 
 "Say, pardner," he asked, "who are you ridin* 
 fort" 
 
 There was a noticeable drawl in Kildare's voice; 
 an ease of expression that made him at home among 
 these buckaroos. Also there was that elision of un- 
 necessary words, and at the same time an indirection 
 of approach to the main subject, which stamped him 
 desert-bred. 
 
 "Why/* and although he answered the man with 
 the flaming hair, his eyes followed Cash, * ' I 'm riding 
 for the Double A, if the foreman gets the right dope. 
 We," nodding toward his horse, "been getting our 
 eats from the Lonely O up in Monty. Old Ted 
 reckoned I 'd wind up here." 
 
 "Take him on, Cash," the owner of the freckles 
 urged, coming out of the shelter of the bushes. ' * Chet 
 and Skip ain't no darn use, nohow, except to help 
 Chink Charlie in the cook-house. You 11 save one 
 man's wages." 
 
 "You lay off the boys, Melody," Cash cut in. 
 "They '11 both make hands yet. Although that hat 
 trick is older than I am. It '11 be forty and cakes 
 until the fall round-up is over, Kildare. Are you 
 on?" 
 
34 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Blaze grinned. 
 
 "You 've sure hired a man, mister. " 
 
 "You 'II double that, if you throw a wise crap/' 
 Melody added. "To-day is pay-day, and pay-day 
 aim is poor, or you wouldn't have got away with the 
 hat trick. " 
 
 "Skip will tell you what to do/' Cash went on. 
 "You better drift down into the valley to-night, Skip. 
 String out along the old Webster wash. Don't let 
 any one through. Here, Kildare, you take my rifle. " 
 
 "What, Basques?" Blaze questioned. 
 
 "Basques will do," Cash nodded. "I '11 be down 
 in the morning. " 
 
 He mounted his horse and rode off. 
 
 "Here 's where the boscos get it/' Melody said 
 gloomily as he made coffee for Blaze. Skip and Chet 
 were asleep. "All this talk of losin' stock is bunk. 
 We 're just gettin' ready for another grab. I got 
 eyes, and sense/' 
 
 "Land?" Blaze queried. 
 
 "No. We got all the land in the world. It 's water 
 this time." 
 
 As Blaze ate, Melody explained himself, and his 
 surmise was more correct than he knew: "There 
 wasn't a thing in the wind until this fellow buys 
 in the old Webster place." 
 
 "I heard down in Golconda that Hank had sold it," 
 Blaze smiled. "He's been drunk ever since. Sounds 
 as though he must a met up with somebody from the 
 effete East." 
 
 "No, not this hombre. He throws a mean leg over 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 35 
 
 a horse. He 's Western by his talk. Too talky for 
 me, though. Says he 's goin' to ranch it. Can't do 
 that without water. The big boss and he 's been 
 gettin* thick. We 're goin' to have trouble. If 
 you 're done let 's ride up and have a look at the 
 valley." 
 
 Melody pointed out the broken edge of dead willows 
 and buckthorn that marked the spot where Rebel 
 Creek had divided its water in the past, and sent part 
 of its precious burden across the heart of the valley. 
 
 They sat in their saddles and smoked as the red- 
 haired man talked. 
 
 "That 's a big place there in the bend, just before 
 Rebel Creek gets to the river," Blaze drawled. He 
 could see the irrigation-ditches which crisscrossed the 
 land as though they were ribbons of silver that bound 
 it together. 
 
 1 ' That 's the Rancho Buena Vista. Wait till you 
 see the girl that lives there Old Ironsides 's daughter. 
 She 's the reason they named this place Paradise. 
 Her daddy is the king-pin of the Basques. He 's all 
 right, is Jose. Only bosco I ever savvied. He 's got 
 a son, too. Always pullin' on the bit, that boy. Too 
 much fire in him ! Then there 's a blind kid Basilio. 
 No mother either. Pretty tough that, eh? I knew 
 the old lady. Wasn't any Basque. Guess that 's 
 how the Senorita gets her spunk. But wait till you 
 see this Mercedes girl. Man, when I look at her I 
 don't miss sugar. She 's sweet. . . . G'wan you ole 
 fool," he growled to his horse. "Let 's go back." 
 
 "You go on, Melody. I 'm going down to the 
 
36 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 river and let my horse roll around in the water. He 
 needs it if I 'm going to use him to-night." 
 
 "Keep your eyes open. I got a hunch some of 
 these Basques ain't dumb to what 's goin' to be 
 pulled." 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE first cool hint of evening reached Kildare as 
 he picked his way along the Little "Washoe. The 
 water gurgled at his feet. Both horse and man be- 
 came anxious to sport in it. The river narrowed 
 directly ahead of him. It was a likely place for a 
 swim. There were willows on the opposite bank. He 
 pressed his knees into his horse's sides and was about 
 to ford the stream when the animal threw back its 
 ears. It was an unmistakable sign. Some one was 
 coming! Kildare reached for his gun. As he did 
 so, he heard a child crying. He wheeled his horse 
 and sent him along the soft bank about fifty yards to 
 where the river turned. What he beheld caused him 
 to shake with laughter. He put away his gun 
 guiltily. 
 
 A burro stood knee-deep in the middle of the river. 
 Marooned on his back was a frightened child, madly 
 clutching a fishing-pole in one hand, while in the other 
 he held a string of small bass. With his tiny heels 
 he beat the burro's sides, and alternately shrieked 
 and cried at him to move. Struggling in the water 
 at the burrow's head was a girlj the most beautiful 
 girl Blaze had ever seen. 
 
 She had taken off her shoes and stockings. Bare- 
 legged, her dress held high about her waist, she 
 
 37 
 
the Senorita Meneeto 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 39 
 
 her in his arms, however, and she could see the twinkle 
 in his friendly eyes, a feeling of awe and embarrass- 
 ment filled her. Unconsciously she tried to draw her 
 wet dress about her bare legs. 
 
 When Blaze had set her on the bank, he smiled 
 despite himself. Mercedes's intuition told her there 
 was only kindliness back of that smile. She felt her 
 own mouth relax, and they both laughed. 
 
 Fifty yards away he had thought her beautiful; 
 now that she was so near he found her entrancing. 
 
 The finely carved nose, her well drawn chin yes, 
 he looked away and remembered them ; but the thing 
 that set his heart beating was not her face or her 
 flashing eyes; it was the unbroken, unsophisticated 
 spirit of her. He had lived in the wilds, and knew 
 its creatures well enough to sense in her a vague 
 similarity to them. 
 
 His discovery of her and the ensuing incident had 
 taken only a few seconds, but even so he had half 
 guessed who she was. He saw that the little fellow 
 was blind. It served to bring Melody's words back 
 to him. 
 
 "You are not frightened?" he asked. 
 
 ' ' Oh, no, Senor, ' ' she answered with a smile. ' ' But 
 the baby see?" 
 
 "I '11 get him off in a second; then we 11 try to 
 persuade the burro." 
 
 Blaze waded out to get the boy. As he reached up 
 his hands to lift him, he spoke. 
 
 1 'Here we are, Basilic," he said. " Don't drop 
 those sh now." 
 
40 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Mercedes felt a delicious thrill pass through her 
 as she listened to his voice. She saw her brother 
 wrap his arms about the big man's neck. It came 
 back to her then as a second thought that he had 
 addressed the child by his name. And yet the man 
 was a stranger. She had never seen either him or 
 his horse in the valley before. 
 
 Basilio had stopped crying. Something in Blaze's 
 voice reassured him. And then, too, Blaze had em- 
 phasized what to the boy was the most imperative 
 need to save the fish. A second later he set him on 
 his feet beside his sister. 
 
 "There we are/' he said with a laugh, "safe and 
 sound, fish and all. Now we '11 make Mr. Burro 
 move." 
 
 He drew his six-gun and, holding it back of the 
 animal's ears, pulled the trigger. The burro leaped 
 for shore as if he had been shot out of a cannon. 
 
 * * Ha, Capitan ! Par Dios, you move quick enough 
 now/' Mercedes trilled. 
 
 Capitan stood on the bank, waving his long ears in 
 Blaze's direction, apparently determined that he 
 would not be taken by surprise a second time. Wet, 
 but laughing and happy, Kildare waded ashore. The 
 girl regarded him with a smile as he stood before her, 
 the water pouring from his clothes in tiny streams. 
 Her eyes caused Blaze to look down at himself. He 
 was a sorry sight. 
 
 "Shucks," he said ruefully; "now I Ve gone and 
 got my feet all wet." 
 
 Mercedes had pulled on her shoes and stockings, 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 41 
 
 and now, while one arm was around Basilio, with her 
 free hand she sought to tuck her rebellious hair into 
 place. 
 
 "Did the man shoot Capitan?" the child asked 
 timidly. 
 
 "What, shoot that good twelve-dollar-and-a-half 
 burro ? No, sir ! ' ' Blaze asserted. ' ' I just creased his 
 ears for him. When you say arre to him, now, he 11 
 move. ' ' 
 
 "Senor," Mercedes asked, "how you know the 
 baby's name?" 
 
 Blaze hung his head sheepishly. 
 
 "Why, missy," he stammered, "I just guessed at it. 
 But I reckoned I knew who you were as soon as I 
 saw you. I allowed he was your brother, too." 
 
 "You are a stranger, though, eh?" 
 
 "Er . . . yes. I was taking my first look at Para- 
 dise when I met you. I guess I better be on my 
 way," he concluded, hoping to turn the conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 Mercedes had no such intention. 
 
 "How you know me, then, Senor?" she pursued. 
 
 "Well, you see a ... er ... a man once told me, 
 that ..." Blaze knew his feet were stepping on each 
 other in embarrassment . . . "some day I 'd meet a 
 Basque girl here, with beautiful black hair, . . . and 
 black eyes . . . and pearly white teeth. . . . 'Yes, 
 and when you do,' he said, 'you '11 know why they 
 call this place Paradise.' " 
 
 Blaze regarded his twitching feet. 
 
 "And when I saw you," he went on with eyes 
 
42 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 averted, "I knew lie had n't lied. I guess that 's how 
 I knew you were Miss Mercedes." 
 
 The girl's long lashes dropped over her eyes. 
 "Virgin santa," she murmured softly. "But you say 
 very nice things, Senor . . .?" 
 
 "Blaze/ 1 
 
 " Senor Blaze, " she said. 
 
 Kildare 's horse had not moved from the spot where 
 Blaze had dropped the rein. He held his head erect, 
 ears expectant. His master's continued interest on 
 the other side of the little stream seemed to worry 
 him. He pawed the ground, and when that failed 
 to earn him a word, he whinnied. 
 
 Blaze whistled so low that Mercedes barely heard 
 it. Instantly the horse came to him and allowed the 
 girl to stroke his head. Blaze lifted Basilio into the 
 empty saddle. 
 
 "He 's safe up there," he assured her. "My Man 
 likes children." 
 
 "What a strange name for a horse!" Mercedes 
 said. 
 
 "We are old pals. Gentle as a girl, isn't he?" 
 Blaze paused for a moment. "Yes," he went on, "a 
 sight gentler than some I used to know." 
 
 It was Mercedes's turn to look away. 
 
 "You remember them still, eh, Senor?" 
 
 Blaze shook his head and smiled. Before he could 
 answer, the hoof -beat of a horse being driven at furi- 
 ous speed interrupted him. Mercedes got to her feet 
 and took Basilio out of the saddle. 
 
 "This will be my brother Esteban, or one of our 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 43 
 
 vaqueros. Maybe some day you will try and find the 
 Raneho Buena Vista, eh?" she added naively. 
 
 "Some day/' Blaze answered. "And I'll try 
 hard enough to find it, too." 
 
 Mercedes blushed under her tan. 
 
 The oncoming horse splashed through the water, 
 covering them with a mist of silver spray. On his 
 back sat Esteban, a thin, wiry, narrow-hipped youth. 
 He leaped to the ground and, staring inimically at 
 Blaze, launched into a tirade of excitable Spanish. 
 The girl saw that he was upset and tried to restrain 
 him. 
 
 "Collar!" she cried. "Hush! Have you gone 
 mad?" 
 
 Blaze had a fair smattering of Spanish and of the 
 universally understood Mexican idioms which the 
 Basques had adopted, but he was unable to follow the 
 rapid words Esteban continued to shower upon his 
 sister. He did catch the reiterated el agua (water), 
 and 'cequia madre (mother-ditch). It meant only 
 one thing. The Basques did suspect their danger. 
 
 But Esteban found himself in quite the same posk 
 tion with Mercedes as did the boy with the horn. 
 He had cried wolf so often that his sister refused 
 to believe that things were as bad as he painted 
 them. 
 
 When her brother had finished, she tried to tell him 
 that Blaze was a stranger and to explain how he had 
 helped Basilio and her. Esteban thanked Blaze with 
 .some show of gratitude. He swung into his saddle 
 caught the child up beside him. Mercedes got on 
 
44 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Capitan 's back. With Esteban leading the burro, they 
 started off. 
 
 "You come to the hacienda some day," Basilio 
 called back. "I know where there 's lots of fish." 
 
 Mercedes looked at her brother for confirmation of 
 the invitation. 
 
 "You will be welcome if you come, Senor," Esteban, 
 answered. 
 
 With a tightening of the heart Blaze watched the 
 girl go. He tarried to roll a smoke. Swimming had 
 lost its attraction. Melody's talk came back to haunt 
 him. If the freckle-faced man was right, the future 
 was black enough for this girl. 
 
 "Basques seem to have a habit of always getting 
 the worst of it," he mused. 
 
 It never had mattered to him before. He thought 
 of his own possible future part in this conflict. His 
 mouth straightened into a grim smile as he realized 
 how his being a Double A man would temper her 
 opinion of him when she discovered it. Yet what dif- 
 ference would the little weight that he could throw 
 on either side make ? If Acklin was intent on driving 
 out the Basques, he would bring forces enough to win 
 without him. 
 
 There was going to be a fight. It was in the air. 
 It meant something to Kildare now. He couldn't 
 go away. Paradise Valley had a claim on him. He 
 had not come there by accident. 
 
 My Man reveled in the cool waters of the Washoe 
 as Blaze dreamed on the bank. The shadows deep- 
 ened. The man's mouth lost its hardness. Old mem- 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 45 
 
 ories of home and the brother he had raised and lost 
 came to him. 
 
 "Gee, kid," he murmured, "you M like her, too. 
 I can't see her get a raw deal. I suppose it 's as 
 natural for some men to hog it all as it is for fish to 
 swim, but if anybody steps on her toes I 'm going to 
 get personal. I '11 chalk that down so I won't forget 
 it, either." 
 
 My Man stared at him curiously. Blaze laughed 
 half-heartedly. 
 
 "Old-timer," he said, "I guess I Ve gone crazy. 
 But she was sweet, wasn't she?" 
 
 He got to his feet and stretched himself. 
 
 "What 's the use?" he said deprecatorily. "A 
 rolling stone hasn't any business thinking such 
 things." 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 QTRETCHED out around the tiny fire in the wil- 
 O lows, heads pillowed on their saddles, the four 
 men waited. The long twilight was over. From the 
 nodding sage came the sad, plaintive cry of the 
 whippoorwill, lonely and foreboding in its three- 
 toned monotony. 
 
 Punctual, almost to the minute, the night wind 
 came whispering, sweet with the fragrance of purple 
 sage and clean brown earth. To the eastward the 
 crystalline peaks of the Santa Rosas, fringed with a 
 delicate tracery of stunted cedars, stood outlined, 
 glowing in the witchery of the desert night. The 
 world waited for the wonder they withheld. And 
 then suddenly valley and mesa were bathed in vibrant 
 light. The round, heavy, golden-yellow moon hung 
 low above the mighty range; the cedars no longer 
 trees, but gossamer webs of silver. 
 
 Skip yawned and got to his feet. 
 
 "Late enough/ 7 he sighed. "The moon 's up. 
 Let's go !" 
 
 In Indian file they left the shelter of the trees. 
 Half an hour later they forded the Little Washoe 
 and held north for the dry wash of the Webster. 
 
 The ghost-like willows that lined the old wash 
 rustled and creaked in the wind ; but the kindly moon 
 had touched their limbs with its magic. 
 
 46 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 47 
 
 Skip held up his hand. 
 
 "That fringe of dead willows marks the wash, 
 Kildare. Melody, you side him east aways. Better 
 let him stick around Rebel Creek. It 's the least 
 likely place for any one to come through. Chet will 
 trail me. I '11 hang out around the Winnemucca 
 road. If we have any trouble, it 11 be there- 
 freighter or somethin'. I 11 drop Chet about half- 
 way over." 
 
 He turned to Chet. 
 
 "You and Melody keep in touch with each other 
 You can see a long ways in this light. Come on ! ' ' 
 
 He wheeled his horse and loped off after the reced 
 ing Chet. Blaze and Melody jogged on. The red 
 haired one was quiet, serious. Kildare had said noth* 
 ing about meeting Mercedes, but he had thought ot 
 little else ever since. A rabbit scurried across the 
 trail ahead of them. Melody came up alert, his hand 
 on his gun. Blaze smiled. 
 
 "Even a rabbit scares you to-night, eh?" 
 
 Melody shivered. "Just fidgety," he grumbled. 
 
 They rode into a little arroyo. Blaze snapped a 
 match with his thumb. 
 
 "Take a squint at this picture, Melody. Is that 
 Bodine?" 
 
 Melody shook his head. He took the photograph 
 in his own hands. 
 
 "Nope," he repeated. "Nature didn't spare him 
 any either, did she?" he chuckled. "No! This fel- 
 low Bodine is tall and wiry. About the size of the 
 Big Boss." 
 
48 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 The match flared out. 
 
 "Say," he asked, "what made you think that was 
 Bodine?" 
 
 "Nothing. Just a chance. " 
 
 They rode on without speaking for a spell. 
 
 "You aimin' to meet up with that bird?" 
 
 Blaze nodded. "I 'd sure admire to do that." 
 
 "Humph! It 's a big country." 
 
 "I got lots of time." 
 
 Ten minutes later they came to Rebel Creek. Mel- 
 ody lay down to drink his fill for the night. 
 
 "Here 's the source of all evil," he punned. "We 
 own all this valley above the old Webster ; every foot 
 of it. And back of those ranges? Say, man, you could 
 ride for a week before you got through seein ' Double 
 A steers." Melody threw away his half -burnt 
 cigarette. "Guess I '11 fan it back. You meet me 
 every now and anon, in that little arroyo where you 
 flashed the picture." 
 
 Blaze got out of his saddle. A rock for a back- 
 rest, he sat in the shelter of the willows and smoked. 
 Melody faded away in the distance. My Man munched 
 the tender, green grass, which grew lush in the creek- 
 bottom. Minutes dragged by and no one came. He 
 yawned and nodded. The sound of the browsing horse 
 always prevented him from falling asleep. 
 
 Time after time he met Melody in the arroyo. 
 Nothing happened to break the monotony of their 
 vigil. The moon rode high. Blaze knew it was near- 
 ing midnight. Innumerable cigarettes had parched 
 his throat. When he reached the creek again he got 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 49 
 
 down to drink ; but the water, which had been so clear 
 and cold, was muddy to the taste. He struck a match. 
 He could see that his tongue had not deceived him. 
 Some one had crossed the stream above him! 
 
 Blaze listened. The wind bore him no sound. 
 Quickly and silently he broke open his rifle. The 
 breach slid in and out in its oiled perfection. He 
 snapped it shut. Ten seconds later man and horse 
 picked their way upstream. 
 
 It was pitch-black in the willows and brush-filled 
 creek-bottom; but it would have been foolhardy to 
 risk the open. He knew he would be visible at close 
 to three hundred yards in that light. 
 
 Blaze figured he had come half a mile or more 
 when My Man stumbled. Any but a Western horse 
 would have been down. He slid to the ground, rifle 
 in hand, and went on, knowing his horse would be 
 waiting there if he returned. Another hundred yards 
 and he stopped. Was it the fallacious breath of the 
 night wind or his own ears that had deceived him 
 into hearing the sound of shod steel grating on rock 
 and gravel? Intently he listened ... a pause . . . 
 and then, clear and unmistakable, it came again. 
 
 Kildare felt his pulse quicken. He edged to the 
 moonlight. Not a hundred yards away loomed the 
 whitened trees which stood beside the old Webster 
 wash. He sensed from the contour of the country 
 that the creek-bottom widened out here. A low mesa 
 rose between him and the dead trees. He correctly 
 reasoned that this barrier had caused that widening, 
 the water swinging around to pass it. 
 
50 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Flat on all fours he crouched as he crawled to the 
 mesa's rim. He was twenty feet above the water. 
 Cautiously he peered over. His breath stopped. 
 Right below him seven men toiled in the water. Rebel 
 Creek was being dammed! 
 
 The face of the mesa threw the creek-bottom into 
 shadow. Some one spoke. The voice was familiar. 
 He craned his neck to hear. Too late he knew his 
 mistake. The vagrant night wind eddying on the 
 canon wall laid heavy hands on his sombrero and sent 
 it sailing down upon the heads of the men below. 
 The weight of the little gun inside the hat made it 
 drop like a shot. A surprised voice retreated from 
 its blow. Kildare knew he was discovered. Cries of 
 rage and anger came up to him. His rifle crawled 
 out beyond the crest, black and ominous to those 
 below. 
 
 "Freeze where you are/' he cried. "With his left 
 hand he drew his six-gun and fired the three shots 
 that would bring Melody and Chet rushing to his 
 side. Below him one sought to steal away. 
 
 " Listen to me," he purred in dulcet tones, "I 11 
 bust the first one of you that moves, and I don't care 
 how soon you start running." 
 
 In an incredibly short time Melody dashed across 
 the mesa. He saw Kildare with rifle to his shoulder. 
 
 "What is it?" he said huskily. 
 
 "Come here and see." 
 
 "That 's pretty, ain't it?" Melody growled. "Say, 
 who in hell are you fellows?" 
 
 There was no mistaking the voice that rolled up 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 51 
 
 in answer to the red-haired one's question. It was 
 Morrow 's. He was thoroughly angry. ' ' Melody, ' ' he 
 roared, "who 's that fool up there with the gun?" 
 
 Blaze and Melody exchanged glances. 
 
 "It 's me, Kildare," the former shot back. "I 
 did n't know I was making you sit so nice and pretty." 
 
 "My God!" Cash groaned. "Held up by my own 
 man! What are you doin' here?" 
 
 Blaze explained about the water. The laugh was 
 on Morrow. "Well, you get back to the willows and 
 stay there. All this damn fool shootin' is likely to 
 wake up somebody." 
 
 The two men rode away together. Melody shook 
 his head. ' ' I had it sized up about right, I guess. ' ' 
 
 "Did you recognize the others?" 
 
 ' ' Sure ! Bodine 's crowd. The big fellow was 
 Bodine. The batalla grande is about to begin." 
 
 Blaze stared ahead. "I suppose the Basques will 
 be bumping into us in the early dawn. ' ' 
 
 "No, they won't know what they 've lost till morn- 
 in'. I heard once that they had a ginny hired to 
 measure the water they ought to get. ' ' 
 
 Blaze smiled half-heartedly. 
 
 "Well, he '11 be like the coon in ' Othello'; he 11 
 find his occupation gone." 
 
 The weary-eyed Kildare waited out the hours. No 
 one tried to get past him. It got to be five o'clock and 
 yet the sky held only the murky gray the stars had 
 left as they winked out. It grew cold in the creek- 
 bottom. My Man moved about restlessly. To the 
 east, black clouds sailed low above the range. A drop 
 
52 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 of rain splashed against his face. Even before he 
 had produced his tarpaulin from his cached bed-roll, 
 the rain came down in earnest; cold and blood-chill- 
 ing in a way that only the mountain-desert knows. 
 
 Sitting in his saddle, his tarp about him, he warmed 
 enough to smile at this break of fortune for the 
 Double A. Rain in this country was the great eradi- 
 cator. 
 
 And while Kildare smiled so grimly, Acklin, Bo- 
 dine, and the solemn-eyed Cash laughed aloud. Every 
 drop of rain was as manna from heaven. It was the 
 last touch needed to make their work as flawless as 
 the black art of the devil. 
 
 "What a godsend," Bodine cried, without a trace 
 of irony. 
 
 "No," Acklin murmured unpleasantly, "it 's the 
 luck of the wicked: it 's always good." 
 
 "Let them prove their case now," Buck sang. 
 "Why, we don't even need that fence." 
 
 "Well, it will go up just the same," the sleepy Ack- 
 lin mumbled. 
 
 In the ranch yard, a line of heavy freighting- 
 wagons were lined up, piled high with fence- wire and 
 posts. From the direction of the long barns came 
 the teams, whiffle-tree chains jangling on the flinty 
 ground, and rising above the clatter, the sharp, im- 
 patient cursing of a sorely tried teamster. 
 
 The foreman closed his watch with a click. "We 11 
 move in twenty minutes. Better get a bite now," 
 he said to Bodine. 
 
 It was long after seven when Blaze saw Cash and 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 53 
 
 Bodine ride into sight. The rain had stopped, but the 
 sky still held sullen and gray. Kildare recognized 
 the man with Morrow. In an indefinable way there 
 was something vaguely familiar about him. Blaze 
 wondered if the other man felt it too, because they 
 scrutinized each other closely before Cash spoke : 
 
 "The wagon will be here in a few minutes. "Widget 
 will stir up some breakfast. Brent will relieve you. 
 I 11 send Melody and the rest of them back here. 
 When you all have eaten, you can drift home and 
 roll in. Skip will fix you up. Say, it 's a wonder you 
 did n 't bump off somebody last night, Kildare. ' ' 
 
 "I wasn't even nervous, Cash. I 'm slow on the 
 trigger; but I aim to be pretty efficient when I get 
 started/' 
 
 "Your path will be covered with roses if you 11 
 only remember to keep your eyes open and your 
 mouth shut. It 's my way of judging whether a 
 man is worth his salt or not. I fancy you 11 do to 
 take along." 
 
 The boys rode up at that instant, closely followed 
 by the heaving wagon. Cash jogged over to see it 
 safely across the creek. Bodine offered Blaze a 
 cigarette. 
 
 "Cash told me about your part in that little show 
 last night," he laughed. "You must have given the 
 boys a thrill." 
 
 Bodine 's cordiality grated on Blaze. For a brief 
 second Kildare had thought the big man might be 
 Acklin; but Cash would have made that known in- 
 stantly. Blaze was tired and sour on the world after 
 
54 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 the long stretch; and the sight of this individual's 
 pleasure in the morning, as well as a sudden inbred 
 dislike for the man, led him to fire away at a guess : 
 
 1 'You were there then?" 
 
 Bodine stared at him for a while before his jaw 
 relaxed. 
 
 " Don't be so positive. I 'm not a Double A man." 
 
 "Now that makes my vote unanimous," Blaze 
 drawled. "That little show was strictly a family 
 party. I don't guess Cash would be exactly talkative 
 about it." 
 
 The threat and implication were not lost on Bodine ; 
 but he chose to ignore them. Quite cleverly he re- 
 treated from his position by the means of bluff cama- 
 raderie. 
 
 "We '11 see quite a lot of each other in the next 
 few weeks," he went on, "so I 11 backwater on my 
 whereabouts. I 'm Buck Bodine. I bought the old 
 Webster place a while back. You can guess where 
 we line up." 
 
 Cash joined them, and he and Bodine went on. 
 Blaze ambled over to where Widget was going 
 through the motions that meant breakfast for him. 
 The new hand was looked over by the boys, and, with 
 the freemasonry of the cow-country, was given a nod 
 and a greeting. Right or wrong, these men stuck by 
 their first likes and dislikes. Brother Jones, timeworn 
 but still effective, chewed the ends of his mustache. 
 
 "Say, son," he mumbled, "they 's no hell like a 
 cowboy hell, as it would seem you have lived to learn ; 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 55 
 
 but this outfit will add to your education. I am quite 
 won to you by your kindly eye. It 's a full month 
 to pay-day. Seek my advice often and with consid- 
 eration, if you would prosper. In me you see a man 
 bent with age, and penniless, too, because of these 
 young thieves. They draw their pay from the Double 
 A, but they work the double-cross. Oh, yes, they 
 do!" 
 
 Cries of "Liar!" and "Amen!" greeted this 
 speech. 
 
 "Come and git it," Widget bawled. Brent cut out 
 from the bunch, and the others paced away. Having 
 eaten his fill, Blaze crawled under the wagon to 
 sleep. 
 
 The sun was out and riding high by the time the 
 four men headed for home. Half a mile east of the 
 creek they met the fencing gang. There was no lost 
 motion here. No sooner were the holes dug than the 
 cedar posts were in place. Another man tamped 
 down the ground around them. Drums of wire were 
 mounted on a wagon. The teamster would cluck to 
 his horses; the wagon would move ahead, the drums 
 would revolve, and the busy hammers would send the 
 staples home. There was art in its precision. 
 
 Noontime brought Blaze to the Bull's Head. No 
 sign of rain lingered. It was hot. Green bottleflies 
 droned in the white, plastered rooms above. Mac- 
 Gregor, the ranch blacksmith, was busy at his forge ; 
 but for him the Bull's Head appeared to slumber. 
 
 Melody had been silent for an hour, but as they 
 tramped up the stairs, the nearness of a comfortable 
 
56 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 bed awakened life within him. In a mournful voice 
 he bawled one of his saddest numbers : 
 
 I lost my watch, 
 I lost my ring, 
 I lost my wife 
 And everything; 
 Oh, I got bad luck. 
 Oh, I ... 
 
 The agony of his song brought Acklin to the door. 
 He saw his new man. "That you, Kildare?" he 
 asked. "Step in here a minute." The cut of Kil- 
 dare's fighting jaw, his poise, and his calm, unemo- 
 tional eyes told Acklin plainer than words that here 
 was a buzz-saw when aroused ; a man without excuses, 
 hard-headed, and at his best when unbossed. 
 
 "Kildare," he began, "Cash says he fancies you. 
 I 've rarely ever found him mistaken. We 're going 
 to have trouble in the valley from now on. I want 
 you to know where I stand. I ask no man to do for 
 me what I wouldn't do myself. It 's the rule on 
 which this ranch is run. My father once said to me : 
 'I hate orders and the giving of them, but sometimes 
 they are necessary. And the man who can't take 
 them without asking why is no fit man to have.' I 've 
 never found anything but wisdom in those words." 
 
 This was a tacit admission on Acklin 's part that 
 Blaze knew what had happened at the fork of the 
 Webster. Kildare felt the question behind the words. 
 He knew Acklin was asking him where he stood as 
 plainly as though he had said so. Covertly the Big 
 Boss watched his new man's face and saw a shadow 
 of impatience cross it. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 57 
 
 "I guess I understand you, sir/ 1 Blaze stated. 
 
 The "sir" was his way of showing that he had no 
 liking for the lack of frankness in the Big Boss. He 
 meant it to mark a difference between them, of his 
 making, and not Acklin's. 
 
 "I 'm glad you. do." Acklin sensed the intent of 
 that "sir." "You get some sleep now. I 11 call you 
 about five. I want you to go into Paradise to-night, 
 just to hear the news. You 're a stranger; you '11 be 
 safe. I want to know what the talk is. I '11 have 
 a message for Bodine, too. No trouble finding the 
 place." 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 UNDER orders, Kildare took the road that led 
 through the foot-hills to the river. Keeping 
 to the south bank, he followed it until he came to the 
 mouth of the Rebel. The wide shoal of sand the creek 
 had carried there, the round, well-polished boulders, 
 and the deep marks of erosion in granite outcroppings 
 told plainly enough that this had been a turbulent 
 stream in the past. But now he could have stopped 
 with his hands the trickle of water that wound through 
 the dry sand. 
 
 Purposely he struck west below the Rancho until 
 he came upon the well-traveled road that led into 
 Paradise. It was the time of day when the ranchers 
 in the valley were in the habit of going into town. 
 More than one passed, giving Blaze a curt nod and a 
 searching glance that was less than friendly. Be- 
 fore he reached the village he had met so many men 
 that there could be no question what was bringing 
 them in. 
 
 The town consisted of two general stores, a tiny, 
 white church, a broken-down, third-rate hotel, and 
 three saloons. About half a dozen buildings with 
 store-fronts flanked the others on the main street. 
 They had long since failed to house any profitable 
 
 68 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 59 
 
 business and were now occupied as dwellings. Fifty 
 or more small frame houses backed up this array. 
 
 Three hundred yards north of the town a shallow 1 
 creek, a tiny branch of the Webster, cut across the 
 road. Except after a heavy rain, or in the early 
 spring when the winter snow was going off, it was 
 dry. Springs alone could account for the rank growth 
 of cottonwoods and poplars that hedged it in. In 
 the lea of these trees the Mexicans, who worked out 
 during the haying, or on the roads at irregular inter- 
 vals, had their homes. 
 
 Blaze reined up in front of Chase's store. The 
 post-office was located there. Seven or eight men 
 lounged on the planked sidewalk in front of it. He 
 gave them a nod and went in to drop his letters. Old 
 man Chase and his sons were busy, so that he passed 
 out unnoticed. 
 
 Benavides's place was down the street several doors. 
 A small crowd stood before it. Half an hour ago 
 these Basques, excitable like all Southern races, had 
 been noisy enough. They were glum now and silent 
 only because they had talked themselves out. 
 
 The loss of the water had been discovered before 
 noon. Several of them, Esteban included, had ridden 
 up the creek to find the cause. They had not gone 
 far before they ran into the Double A wire. Brother 
 Jones had been waiting on the other side of it. He 
 was hardly hospitable. 
 
 When they had sought to crawl under the fence, 
 he had waved his gun with an alarming lack of re- 
 gard for their safety. 
 
60 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "No, no, nada, amigos," he had cried. "Yon 
 want to watch out, cuidado! I 'm sorry; but I ain't 
 foolish." 
 
 They had tried to engage him in further talk but 
 he had told them to go to Acklin, and to several other 
 destinations more remote. As a consequence, the 
 Double A, and not Bodine, had become the object of 
 their hatred. Remembering the past, it was not hard 
 for them to lay this new outrage at Acklin 's door. 
 But like the sheep they owned, they needed a leader 
 before they could strike back. Some of them had 
 been in town all afternoon, drinking and cursing their 
 luck. But whisky, contrary to the rules affecting 
 most people, only seemed to calm them and make 
 them more determined to fight for their rights. In 
 this they showed how greatly they differed from the 
 Mexicans especially, with whom they were often con- 
 fused. 
 
 Blaze found the saloon filled. At a table six men 
 played cards. They were the only ones present who 
 seemed untouched by the general air of disaster. 
 
 Blaze bought a drink. He understood very little 
 of the conversation going on about him; but that 
 these men were worked up and only awaited a leader, 
 he did not doubt for a moment. 
 
 The card-game ended. Blaze caught the reflection 
 of the players in the fly-specked mirror over the back- 
 bar. 
 
 "You boys are too dod-gasted lucky for me," the 
 smallest of them cackled. "I been going for the case- 
 card every time." 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 61 
 
 Benavides had been sitting in. He smiled at the 
 man in the faded clothes. Faded was the correct 
 word. His trousers were baggy; his hat warped out 
 of shape, the band of it raveled and wind-whipped; 
 but one forgot these and remembered only the lack 
 of color in him. Everything he wore seemed to have 
 settled into a sedate greenish-gray; that is, save for 
 his eyes. They still held their hazel hue. 
 
 11 Joe," the Basque called, as the little man got up r 
 "have a drink on the house before you go. It 's time 
 for a celebration when you lose." 
 
 Blaze moved over, and the faded one edged into 
 the bar beside him. 
 
 "I '11 call that bluff," he cawed. "I was a child 
 when you set 'em up the last time, you old tight- 
 wad." 
 
 In the mirror, Blaze could see that he had caught 
 the little man's attention. It was half dark in the 
 saloon, but he sensed the alertness in the other's eyes. 
 Blaze reached for his glass to finish his drink. 
 
 "Well, if it ain't old Timberline," the little man 
 exclaimed. 
 
 The sound of his old nom de guerre caused Blaze 
 to freeze with his glass in midair. Until that second 
 he would have staked his life that no man north of 
 the Humboldt could have called him by that name. 
 
 Blaze set his drink down and turned to scrutinize 
 his neighbor. Recognition came quickly. 
 
 "Joe Kent!" he cried. "What are you doing way- 
 over here, Tuscarora?" 
 
62 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "Why, I been over this-a-ways some time. What 
 you doin' here?" 
 
 Blaze smiled and winked an eye at him. 
 
 "Side me out of town a ways and I 11 let you 
 guess. But lay off that Timberline. It belongs in my 
 wicked past. I 'm headed for Webster Creek. That 
 out of your way?" 
 
 Benavides waved him good-by as he and Blaze left. 
 Tuscarora was a fixture in the valley. He had won 
 his sobriquet placering over in the Tuscarora Range. 
 His experiences there were only a small part of his 
 education. For forty years he had roamed the desert. 
 It had been his boast that he had missed only one gold 
 rush in twenty years. He knew the old camps like 
 Virginia City and Austin, as well as the more recent 
 ones at Rawhide and Bullfrog. 
 
 In his time he had worked at all the odd jobs the 
 desert knows; freighting, running a stage-line, being 
 a government trapper all these had occupied differ- 
 ent periods in his life. He had put in one winter as 
 a station-agent down in Esmeralda County. 
 
 Although he lived in town he owned a small ranch 
 on the Little Washoe. But for him the hotel would 
 have closed, Joe being its only regular guest. Old 
 man Pasquale, the proprietor, refused to dispossess 
 him. 
 
 "What 's on, son?" he asked, when they had 
 crossed the little bridge north of town. "You acted 
 back there as if I had handed you a jolt." 
 
 "You sure gave me a surprise," Blaze admitted. 
 "You heard about the Kid, I suppose?" 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 63 
 
 "Yeh! Too bad! That ain't bringin' you over 
 here, is it?" 
 
 "It 's taken me a lot of places. I hired out to the 
 Double A yesterday." 
 
 "Yeh?" There was frank disbelief in Kent's eyes. 
 "What else?" 
 
 * ' Nothing much. Just that and the Kid. I have n 't 
 forgotten him." 
 
 "Now looka here, Blaze!" Joe exclaimed as he 
 pulled up his horse. "You don 't belong in this 
 fuss. And it 's gonna be a fuss. There '11 be killin' 
 before it 's through. Acklin 's over his head. As 
 long as it don 't mean anythin' to you, why not get 
 out of it?" 
 
 "I 'm playing a hunch; that 's all! I 've got to 
 see it through. Anyway, Joe, I never was much of a 
 hand at running away." 
 
 "Course not. You 11 get killed yet. Why don 't 
 you marry and settle down?" 
 
 The telltale twinkle came into Blaze's eyes. 
 
 "Is that what you Ve done?" 
 
 "There you are," Tuscarora scolded. "You never 
 answered a straight question in all your life." 
 
 "They take the loss of the water pretty bad back 
 there, don't they?" Blaze countered, jabbing in the 
 direction of Paradise. 
 
 "How 'd you take the loss of your bank-roll and 
 three squares a day? I 'm no outsider in this. I 've 
 got a little place on the river. I know what it 's 
 going to do to me." 
 
 Blaze shook his head thoughtfully. 
 
64 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "I didn't think these Basques had a chance. Of 
 course if you 're going to string along with them, 
 you old weasel, they may get somewhere. But re- 
 member, I 'm no man 's man but my own when it gets 
 down to scratch. I 'm not going to back out. You 're 
 the only man in this country that knows me. You 
 forget Timberline and all the rest of it, Tuscarora. 
 I 'm just Blaze Kildare now." 
 
 ''You never give up, do yuh?" Kent exclaimed. 
 "I know how you feel, Blaze ; but two years is a long 
 time to stick to one idea. It 's goin' to be tough to 
 see us lined up against each other ; and that 's what 
 it 's goin' to mean. This won't be any children's 
 party. Acklin can't rob us that-a-ways. " 
 
 They rode on for a mile or more before Blaze spoke. 
 
 "Why don't you take the thing to court? This is 
 still the United States, isn't it? You've got the 
 law." 
 
 "Law?" Joe mocked. "The country is smeared 
 with it; but it 's all made for the other fellow. But 
 don't you fret. We '11 get started. I '11 have every 
 man- jack in the valley down to the Rancho Buena 
 Vista to-morrow night. I '11 see to it, too, that we 
 don't make any small-town affair of this row. I been 
 county commissioner twice. I know how Acklin 's 
 got things tied up around here. He 's strong enough 
 down in Carson, too. But I '11 take a lot of beating 
 before I 'm dead. Election 's coming on soon. Tom 
 Brand is out for district attorney down in Winne- 
 mucca. Acklin and the Anaconda Cattle Co. may 
 beat him. Still, he 's got a following. Folks have 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 65 
 
 had about enough of your San Francisco millionaires. 
 These big ranches will be broken up some day. Then 
 this State will amount to something. I know this 
 country better than most. You wait! We '11 bring 1 
 water here all the way from the south fork of the 
 Owyhee when these big holdings have been cut up. 
 If you was a decent law-abiding citizen with four or 
 five kids, you might be interested/' 
 
 They had almost reached the road where Blaze 
 was to turn to the left. Tuscarora's words brought 
 back to Kildare a picture of Mercedes. The thought 
 of what she faced stiffened him. 
 
 The little man caught the click of his friend's jaws. 
 
 " Don't shoot!" he mimicked. "I didn't know I 
 was riding you so hard. There 's your road, old- 
 timer." 
 
 Joe's jocularity brought the smile back to Blaze's 
 face. 
 
 "Anyway," he laughed, "I won't shoot in the 
 back." 
 
 "That 's why I wonder how you and Acklin are 
 going to get along. That surprises you, eh? Well, 
 you wait till he gets pressed. I knew his old man ; so 
 I wouldn't put anything past his son." 
 
 Tuscarora bit off a piece of his tobacco by way of 
 saying good-by. 
 
 "And just so you won't get to thinking that I 'm 
 ready for the junk-pile," he went on, "let me tell 
 you that your friend Bodine is in this deal up to his 
 neck. But he 's only a stool-pigeon for the Double A. 
 The Basques blame it all on Acklin." Joe shook his 
 
66 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 head. " Pretty foxy of him to send a dummy out 
 to buy in the place and hold it down until the Double 
 A could turn the water on. I '11 bet Acklin 's got 
 a deed for that ranch in his safe this minute. If he 
 hain't, this Buck Bodine will wake up some morn- 
 ing to find himself chasing his own tail. ' ' 
 
 They drew apart. Blaze waved his hand. 
 
 "You come see me some time, Blaze," Tuscarora 
 called. "You always got an ace in the hole in me." 
 
CHAPTER VIU 
 
 BLAZE jogged on. When he turned a moment 
 later to look back, Tuscarora had become a gray 
 blur on the swaying sage. 
 
 "Just the same old bag of bones he used to be," 
 he murmured wistfully. "Kid always liked him, 
 too." 
 
 Pictures of Laramie, Yellowstone Park, Washakie 
 Needles, the Buffalo Fork of the Snake, and memories 
 of the winning fights they had been through together 
 filled Blaze 's mind and made him oblivious to his sur- 
 roundings. He came up with a start when My Man's 
 feet splashed through water. 
 
 Webster Creek paralleled the road about three 
 hundred yards to the north. Blaze headed his horse 
 for it. 
 
 He found the creek running over its banks. The 
 adjacent soil had become so thoroughly dried out 
 during its ten years' drought that the rush of water 
 ate into it voraciously, and in some places the banks 
 had crumbled away entirely. 
 
 Blaze got back on the road, musing as he went 
 along on the Aladdin-like effect of last night's work. 
 He continued to see evidences of it time after time. 
 My Man's hoofs kicked up a spray in at least a dozen 
 places before Blaze sighted the buildings of the Web- 
 ster ranch. 
 
 67 
 
68 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 It was late twilight when he walked his horse into 
 Bodine's yard. Webster Creek cut across it between 
 house and barn. The place being new to him, he 
 stopped momentarily before crossing the stream. 
 
 The incongruity of all this water, without sign of 
 living green thing, shrieked aloud. Ahead of him 
 the house bulked dark and silent. From its windows 
 came no ray of lamp or candle. Blaze thought it 
 strange that the place should be deserted at this time 
 of the evening. He sent My Man prancing through 
 the water and was about to cry out to see if he could 
 arouse any one when a short, bandy-legged shadow 
 detached itself from the blackness of the house and 
 dashed madly for the barn. 
 
 Instinctively Blaze reached for his gun. It was 
 plain to him that the noise of his horse 's feet had sur- 
 prised the man into his precipitous flight. Kildaro 
 had caught only a brief glimpse of him. Recognition 
 was impossible in the light that held. Nevertheless 
 Blaze felt his muscles tense as he tried to recall the 
 figure of the man. He could not forget the shadow's 
 legs. They were too peculiar, and the picture of them 
 remained in his mind as a definite thing. He would 
 have pursued the thought further ; but a voice boomed 
 out from the steps of the house asking what he 
 wanted. Blaze recognized it for Bodine's. 
 
 "I Ve got a letter for you/ 7 Blaze answered. 
 "ThisisKildare." 
 
 "Come ahead! I '11 light a lamp." 
 
 Blaze grinned. The place was waking up with a 
 vengeance. He saw a match flicker in the kitchen. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 69 
 
 Bodine had the lamp lighted by the time Blaze dis- 
 mounted. 
 
 "You didn't come through Paradise?" the rancher 
 asked skeptically. 
 
 "I sure did! Left there about an hour ago." 
 
 "How are they takin' it?" There was genuine 
 concern in Bodine 's voice. 
 
 ' ' They 're stunned. They '11 mill around for a day 
 or two until they find a leader; there '11 be trouble 
 then ! The word has been passed for a big pow-wow 
 to-morrow night at the Rancho. I wouldn't be sur- 
 prised if the old don throws the thing into the courts 
 from the start. From what I hear, he 's got the 
 backing of all the other ranchers." 
 
 "Courts the old fool! Why doesn't he fight it 
 out?" 
 
 "They wouldn't have a chance," Blaze said, ob- 
 viously drawing Bodine on. "The law is the best 
 way, isn't it?" 
 
 "Law, hell! It ain't no way! Who wants the 
 law when you can do without it?" 
 
 Blaze sat down on the porch while Bodine went 
 inside to read Acklin's letter. He fancied he saw 
 some one staring at him from the blackness of the 
 barn door. 
 
 "You tell Acklin my boys are in the Buttes now," 
 Bodine stated when he came out. "I '11 be over to 
 the Bull's Head to-morrow." 
 
 Blaze made no effort to leave. By even the shortest 
 way, he knew it would be after ten before he reached 
 the Bull's Head. He had not eaten, except for a 
 
70 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 piece of jerky and a bowl of coffee, since morning. 
 The appetizing- odors coming from the kitchen were 
 too much for him. 
 
 "I guess you won't have any trouble finding your 
 way back home," Bodine insinuated to speed his 
 guest. 
 
 "Not on an empty stomach," Blaze said with a 
 sour face. "It 's pretty near time to eat, is n 't it ? " 
 
 Their eyes met, and Bodine laughed. 
 
 "Say, pardner," he answered, "you ain't going 
 to miss nothing if asking will get it for you. Come 
 on in." 
 
 They went inside. With relish, Blaze eyed the sage- 
 hen cooking on the stove, but his curiosity more than 
 his appetite had made him stay. 
 
 "You must have been expecting me," he said with 
 a grin. "I see you got the knives and forks set for 
 two. I thought you were alone." 
 
 Bodine turned suspiciously and searched Kildare's 
 eyes. What he found in them seemed to reassure him. 
 
 1 ' That 's the way I housekeep, ' ' he mumbled as he 
 fussed with the stove. ' ' Supper on one side the table ; 
 breakfast the other. Wash 'em all up together. 
 Saves time! Let 's eat." 
 
 Blaze drew out a chair that would leave him facing 
 the window. 
 
 "Sit on the other side," Bodine cut in. "I 11 be 
 handy to the stove here, so I can hot up the coffee. 
 I Ve got some biscuits in the oven." 
 
 The lie seemed to pass muster. Buck kept on won- 
 dering why Shorty had taken to his heels. He studied 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 71 
 
 Kildare's face cautiously. The cow-boy smiled. They 
 ate in silence for a while. Blaze praised Bodine 's 
 cooking, not knowing Shorty had been the chef be- 
 fore his mad dash to the barn. 
 
 Blaze had been careful to note that the window had 
 been closed when he sat down. Yet as he finished the 
 last of the biscuits he felt the first touch of the cold 
 night wind on the back of his neck. He knew the 
 window was being slowly opened. 
 
 Blaze sensed his danger; but no hint of it came 
 into his eyes as they met Bodine's. Quite naturally 
 he turned the talk to the work at hand. The over- 
 intentness with which Bodine heard him convinced 
 Blaze that his imagination was not playing him tricks. 
 And yet he dared not turn around. He knew that if 
 the man at the window was minded to shoot him 
 down in cold blood any movement he made would be 
 sure to bring on the climax. But why was he singled 
 out? He had seen enough to make him realize that 
 something moved under the surface here on Webster 
 Creek, but gun-play was more than he had expected. 
 
 The shining biscuit-tin, acting as a mirror, re- 
 flected the troubled face of Bodine. Inspiration came 
 to Blaze. Reaching out, he took the pan and stood it 
 on end as if to shake the crumbs from it ; then quickly 
 held it before him and caught on the polished sur- 
 face the picture of a hat and the lower part of a face. 
 With the barrel of a heavy gun the owner of the hat 
 was pushing the window open. In vain Blaze tried 
 to penetrate the shadow which the hat threw over 
 the man's face, and which concealed his identity. 
 
72 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Bodine was quick to grasp the action. With an 
 oath he kicked his chair behind him and made for 
 the window. 
 
 "That damned wind comes out of the canon every 
 night about this time. Cools your victuals off before 
 you Ve got time to get them down." 
 
 He closed the window with a bang. Had Shorty 
 recognized an enemy in Kildare ? When Buck turned 
 he found Blaze was on his feet. 
 
 "Going already?" he asked, torn between anger 
 and fear. A break with the Double A now would be 
 a calamity. 
 
 "Adios, then." Bodine waved his hand as Kil- 
 dare got into the saddle. He failed to note the tilt 
 of Kildare 's jaw. 
 
 Blaze forced My Man close to the porch. 
 
 "Years ago, way up in Montana, Bodine," he 
 warned, "I first heard of the Double A. And since 
 then whenever I 've heard cow-men speak of it, there 
 is one thing they have always said: 'The Double A 
 boys stick together.' They have a habit of not for- 
 getting. If one of them turns up missing and is dis- 
 covered months later lying face down in some lonely 
 little canon, plugged in the back by a rustler or 
 gunman, they don 't wait for the sheriff. They chased 
 * Soapy' Smith all the way into Utah; they got him, 
 too." Blaze paused. "That 's just something to 
 think about," he added sullenly and, giving My Man 
 the bit, cantered away. 
 
 This talk was plain enough for Bodine. His ad- 
 miration for Blaze continued to grow. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 73 
 
 "You 're a wise bird/' he murmured to himself. 
 * l There 's no flies on you. ' ' 
 
 Presently from the corner of the house, Shorty 
 inquired sotto voce: "Is he gone?" 
 
 Bodine turned on him angrily. 
 
 "What kind of a fool play was that you made?" 
 he demanded. ' * Running like a rabbit, and then try- 
 ing to get him in the back." 
 
 "He come up so quiet-like he threw a scare into 
 me," Shorty answered. "Why didn't you tip me off 
 if he was 0. K., when I opened the window?" 
 
 ' ' How could I ? He got you from the start. Held 
 up that tin plate for a mirror. I 've told you a dozen 
 times we have nothing to be scared of. Why start the 
 ball rolling by plugging one of these Double A boys ? 
 They 're with us in this game ! You make another 
 play like that and I 'm through with you. That goes, 
 and don't you forget it." 
 
 Bodine 's temper did not alarm Shorty. They had 
 been together too long. 
 
 "He didn't remind you of any one, huh?" 
 
 Bodine whirled on his pal. 
 
 "Who?" he demanded. 
 
 "I can't remember. But I 've seen that back 
 before, somewhere." 
 
 Shorty's vagueness only caused Bodine to break 
 out again. 
 
 "You 're loco. A lot of help you '11 be to me in this 
 fight." 
 
 Shorty said nothing but took a lantern and followed 
 Kildare's trail through the brush. It led straight 
 
74 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 to the road. Presently he turned back, convinced he 
 had made a mistake. 
 
 The Double A man had expected this very thought. 
 In spite of his aroused suspicions, he had kept on, 
 expecting to be trailed. 
 
 "I hope you 're satisfied/* Bodine snapped at 
 Shorty when he came back. "The man comes on 
 straight business, and rides away as he ought to, even 
 after you tried to spill the beans. You make me 
 sick!" 
 
 "Well, I 'm thinkin' you 11 be sorry some day that 
 you did n 't let me get him. ' ' 
 
 And while they continued to quarrel Blaze covered 
 the long miles to the Bull's Head where Acklin was 
 waiting for him. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 OLD IRONSIDES arose from his breakfast-table 
 the following morning determined to see 
 Acklin. So far Jose had met the issue stoically. For 
 that reason perhaps he realized fully his desperate 
 position. The value of every acre he owned was de- 
 pendent upon the water which had disappeared over- 
 night. Its loss meant the sweeping away of the 
 fruits of a lifetime of saving and unremitting toil. 
 He knew he was too old to begin all over again. 
 
 Even when Esteban had told him of the wire bar- 
 rier the Double A had strung across the valley he 
 refused to believe that Acklin had deliberately set 
 out to steal their water. A cloudburst back in the 
 hills, or a cave-in where the creek came through 
 Martin Canon, might be responsible. When Webster 
 Creek began to overflow its banks, however, the old 
 Basque had to admit the worst. What puzzled him 
 was Bodine's complicity. The Double A had always 
 played a lone hand. 
 
 Basque-like, he took no counsel of his womenfolk 
 in times of stress. Mercedes, however, stepped over 
 this age-old convention. She tried to persuade him 
 against going to the Bull's Head. 
 
 " Father, " she pleaded in Spanish, "is it safe? 
 Why won't you take your rifle?" 
 
 "Nonsense!" Jose answered, but he bent down 
 75 
 
76 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 from his horse to pat her head. "What need have 
 I of a gun? I go in broad daylight by the main 
 traveled road. Men know that I do not come to 
 steal/' 
 
 Tearfully Mercedes watched her father and brother 
 ride away. A great silence hung over the Rancho 
 Buena Vista. Even the tiny Basilio was subdued. 
 
 At the end of their fence Esteban pulled up his 
 horse and prepared to turn back. 
 
 "Do you think he will see you?" he asked, as his 
 father murmured good-by. 
 
 "If he is not guilty he will," Jose replied saga- 
 ciously. "I am as intent on finding out where he 
 stands as I am on seeing the man. I know, therefore, 
 that I will not have my ride for nothing." 
 
 Acklin had foreseen this visit. It was certain to 
 be a bad half-hour. Thought of its unpleasantness 
 solely, and not a sense of shame for his duplicity, 
 caused him to arrange hurriedly for an alleged trip 
 to the Owyhee. 
 
 "I '11 be back to-morrow," he told Cash. "But if 
 any one asks, say you don't know. In the meantime 
 you sit tight. Answer no questions. I doubt if they 
 can get a court order to cross our line. When I 've 
 finished at the Bar Circle, I 'm going over to the 
 X L. Peter has a 'phone, so you can get me there 
 if you need me in a hurry. If Bodine oversteps him- 
 self, you get in touch with me." 
 
 Therefore it followed that about the same time 
 Jose left the Rancho Acklin departed from the Bull 's 
 Head. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 77 
 
 By word of mouth from his men, the news of the 
 old Basque's coming had been relayed to Cash. He 
 had flashed back to them not to molest the visitor. 
 
 The foreman was guilty of staging his reception of 
 Old Ironsides. With an air of preoccupation he sat 
 down at Acklin's desk and began going over some 
 tally-books. When he saw the old man swing into 
 the ranch yard, he gave up his mimic show in dis- 
 gust. Cash stood ready to do him out of his ranch 
 if he could ; but the old man radiated such an air of 
 honesty that the foreman turned his back on any- 
 thing as petty as the dumb show he had arranged. 
 He knew Jose to be a speaker of true words. That 
 in itself was sufficient to gain respect from the un- 
 sentimental Cash. Consequently he got out of his 
 chair and walked to the open door. 
 
 "Buenos dias, Senor/' he called, as the dignified 
 old Basque strode up the steps. 
 
 Jose returned the salutation ceremoniously. 
 
 ' ' Is the Senor busy ? " he inquired. 
 
 Cash surmised the effort it cost the man to appear 
 so calm. His looks gave a hint of the strain he was 
 under. 
 
 "The boss isn't home," Morrow answered, almost 
 glad that he could speak the truth. "He left for the 
 Owyhee early this morning. Don't expect him back 
 to-day, neither." 
 
 Jose mopped his forehead. 
 
 * r Anything I can do for you ? ' ' Cash suggested. 
 
 It was a full minute before the other replied. 
 
 "There is hardly a drop of water in Rebel Creek," 
 
78 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 lie stated. "You know, of course, that the old wash 
 of the Webster is running over its banks. " 
 
 The foreman bent over to pick up a sliver of wood. 
 
 "Seems though I heard something about it." 
 
 "The Senor, he had heard of it, too?" 
 
 The foreman felt the rebuke for his flippancy. 
 
 "I imagine he did. We've been building some 
 fence down there." 
 
 "Yes!" Jose's tones were icy cold. "I came to- 
 day to ask permission to cross that fence. My neigh- 
 bors have sought to see beyond it, and they have been 
 driven away. Both you and Acklin know me. I lay 
 no hand on what is not mine. Unless there has been 
 trickery on your part, you cannot refuse me." 
 
 Cash hitched up his trousers. 
 
 "I ain't got any complaint against your honesty," 
 he stammered. "But you 're askin' something I can't 
 allow. I 've got orders to let no one through. And 
 for about twenty-five years I been aimin' to see that 
 orders are carried out around here." 
 
 "Your answer is what I should have expected," 
 Old Ironsides said, unable to smother his anger. "I 
 wanted Seiior Acklin to convict himself before I 
 judged him. I have my answer ! I see now, that he 
 runs away; he is a coward, too." 
 
 Without another word he mounted his horse and 
 struck off down the valley. Morrow shook his head 
 as he watched him go. Ten minutes later he had for- 
 gotten the incident. Life had proved to Cash that 
 sentiment is usually wrong. 
 
 Once he had arrived at the Rancho, Jose retired 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 79 
 
 to the patio to lay his plans for the meeting that 
 evening. Esteban he sent to Paradise. By noon the 
 result of Jose's errand had spread throughout the 
 valley. 
 
 The rebuff his father had met only increased Este- 
 ban's desire for quick revenge on Bodine and the 
 Double A. 
 
 This waiting and appealing to the law did not suit 
 the hot-headed boy. What had the law ever won 
 for any of them? 
 
 His eloquence soon gave Esteban a following. His 
 crowd had grown in strength until by night Tuscarora 
 and Jose had become alarmed. The boy's success in 
 town was sure to make him try to run away with the 
 meeting later on. 
 
 "You are right, Joe," Jose said when Tuscarora 
 told him. "Violence would win for us to-night. But 
 we could not hold our gains. We would be outside 
 the law. And I think that is just what Acklin is 
 hoping we will do. We won't start until ten o'clock. 
 That will give everybody a chance to get here before 
 we begin. You come early, my friend." 
 
 Esteban, however, did not plan to wait for the 
 meeting. With about half a dozen chosen companions 
 he schemed to ride around the Double A wire and see 
 for himself just what had happened. 
 
 He rightly figured that the men on guard would 
 be best caught unawares early in the evening. He 
 therefore planned to have his friends make a demon- 
 stration directly north of town; as soon as the twi- 
 light faded and while they were engaging the atten- 
 
80 WHISPEEING SAGE 
 
 tion of Acklin's men, he hoped to steal unobserved 
 through the foot-hills below the Chimney. 
 
 His father had been honest and considerate of every- 
 body; and too often had he turned the other cheek 
 that peace might continue in the valley. Under his 
 leadership his people had been satisfied with less 
 than their share. This humility, this bending of the 
 knee, might be well enough for Mexicans ; but he was 
 no Latin. In his veins was the blood of the gypsying 
 Celt. It gave him vision enough to see that the way 
 of the Basques and these English-speaking people did 
 not lie together. 
 
 The rat-tat-tat of firing put an end to his medita- 
 tion. As he listened, the shooting grew in violence. 
 It was far off. The reports came muffled, and 
 deadened. 
 
 From where he waited a short three hundred yards 
 brought him to the road that dipped down into the 
 valley across the Double A line. Once he had gained 
 it, he let his horse out in earnest. It was from the 
 rear that danger threatened. Speed was his safe- 
 guard. 
 
 He reached the willows in the creek-bottom none 
 too soon. Hardly had he thrown his horse when Cash 
 and his men thundered by. Morrow was determined 
 only upon getting to the scene of action as quickly 
 as possible. He began to wonder as he left the creek 
 behind if this sortie north of town was not a feint. 
 He knew, by the way in which the firing continued, 
 that his men were holding their own over there. 
 He held up his hand until he caught Blaze's eye. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 81 
 
 "Hike back to the creek, " he ordered. " Watch 
 out. This thing to the west looks crooked to me." 
 
 In ten minutes Blaze had retraced his way to 
 within a hundred yards of the spot where Esteban 
 was. So, unaware of each other, stalker and stalked 
 made their way downstream on opposite banks. 
 
 Blaze found the going much better on his side of 
 the creek. Once My Man stepped on a broken-down 
 willow that snapped with a bang under his weight. 
 The report reached the boy, now several hundred 
 yards behind. A cold sweat broke out on the young 
 Basque. The horse had passed on to a grassy knoll, 
 and no further sound reached the listener. Esteban. 
 dismissed it for a wildcat or coyote. 
 
 As he had listened, the murmur of purring, splash- 
 ing water sang in his ears. He nodded his head 
 silently. Rebel Creek still flowed here as of old! 
 He went on. Unseen branches of friendly willows 
 slapped him in the face as he led his pony along. 
 Less than half an hour from now the moon would be 
 up. He knew he must be below the wire before then. 
 
 Blaze had drawn ahead while Esteban waited. He 
 found everything quiet at the confluence of the two 
 creeks. He even stopped to light a cigarette. He sur- 
 veyed Bodine 's work with disgust. Fording the creek, 
 he followed the wire east of the willows for a short 
 distance. Seeing nothing suspicious, he turned and 
 was about to retrace his way to the darkness of the 
 trees when My Man's nostrils quivered. The wind 
 had borne the horse its telltale message. 
 
 The rim of the golden-yellow moon crept above the 
 
82 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 range at Kildare's back, silhouetting him in its glow- 
 ing fire. Catlike, he slid from his saddle. Below him 
 a few yards, a rock outcropping lay in shadow. Al- 
 ready the moon was searching out the hillside that 
 fell away to the willows. Dropping the rein over 
 My Man's head, Blaze wriggled on his stomach until 
 he reached the rocky ledge. 
 
 No hint of lurking danger came to Esteban as he 
 continued down the stream. Once his pony stopped 
 momentarily. The boy's voice quavered as he forced 
 his horse onward. He had not far to go. The sandy 
 bottom widened; a turning, and he stood where the 
 Rebel poured into the Webster. 
 
 Esteban got down on his hands and knees and 
 studied the bank of rock and sand that filled the 
 channel of the creek, all unmindful of the grim 
 figure that lay on the rocks above him. 
 
 He slid into the water. It came to his armpits. 
 Breasting the current, he waded to where the cloud- 
 burst had once closed the mouth of the Webster. No 
 such barrier arose now. Unimpeded, the water swept 
 by him. The theft was plain and certain. 
 
 Wet and bedraggled, Esteban crawled out on the 
 bank. A glance to the eastward told him he had 
 tarried too long. There was nothing to do but to 
 break for the open and race to the Chimney. The 
 firing below him had died away. With every nerve 
 on edge, he fingered his gun and raked the gray with 
 his spurs. 
 
 In a flash he was free of the underbrush. But he 
 had not gone twenty yards before something moved 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 83 
 
 in front of him. It was My Man, grazing where he 
 had been left. The boy could not turn back. A second 
 brought him abreast of the rocky ledge. 
 
 Esteban 's keen eyes located his enemy as he 
 crouched, rifle at his shoulder, on the outcropping. 
 Eye and finger acted at the same moment in the young 
 Basque. In wild panic he emptied his gun. 
 
 A curse and a low cry of pain said that a bullet 
 had found its mark. He saw the wounded man dis- 
 appear ; but the next instant he heard him running. 
 
 From the road across the creek came the cries of 
 men and the patter of rapidly driven horses. "With 
 savage energy Esteban drove his spurs home. His 
 mount, the gray Bodine had broken for him, leaped 
 ahead in mile-devouring strides. Once he reached the 
 road, he would be unbeatable. 
 
 Blaze felt his arm. It burned as though he had 
 been branded with an iron. He did not recognize 
 Esteban; but when he saw him head for the road he 
 guessed his intention. The way around by the Chim- 
 ney was the only means of escape. Kildare got into 
 his saddle and lined straight for it. The burning hole 
 in his shoulder made him realize where he stood. 
 
 His short cut took him beyond sound of the rein- 
 forcements coming to his aid. 
 
 He likewise lost track of Esteban ; the boy also lost 
 sight of him and began to breathe easier. The gray 
 had left his pursuers far behind. 
 
 Blaze reached the Chimney in advance of the 
 Basque by a full minute. He found the road, in front 
 of the wall of rock, in darkness. No ray of moonlight 
 
84 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 penetrated there. Slipping from his saddle, he 
 waited. In the distance he could hear the rush of a 
 madly ridden horse. Blaze sent My Man into the 
 brush at his left, and flattened himself against the 
 wall of the Chimney. 
 
 The tattoo of the flying hoofs grew louder and 
 louder. Another instant, and the gray was upon him. 
 The fence came almost to the road. The boy on the 
 gray's back pulled him up, and wheeled him to swing 
 down into the valley south of the wire. Blaze jumped 
 for the bridle, and with his uninjured arm jabbed his 
 six-gun into Esteban's ribs. 
 
 1 ' Stick up your hands ! " he whipped into the boy 's 
 very ear. 
 
 Esteban's surprise was complete. But instinctively 
 he made a lunge for his gun. 
 
 " Another inch,'" the man at his horse's head 
 warned, "and I '11 drop you out of that saddle !" 
 
 The gray shied, dragging Blaze into the moonlight. 
 Recognition was simultaneous with both. Blaze 
 brought his gun down with a shudder. The boy would 
 never know how near he had been to death. 
 
 Esteban saw the blood-covered arm. 
 
 "You?" He questioned, when he could speak. 
 "Well, why don't you shoot?" he dared. 
 
 Blaze shook his head. A memory of Mercedes came 
 to him. What was he to do with this young, hot- 
 headed, irresponsible boy? 
 
 The pursuing horsemen pounded at their back. 
 Esteban stiffened. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 85 
 
 "You fan it out of here!" Blaze growled. "You 
 thank the moon, not me, that you are alive to do it." 
 
 He brought his hand down on the gray's flank. 
 The horse bounded away. Blaze fired his gun to help 
 him along. 
 
 Another second and Cash reined up beside Blaze. 
 
 "Did you get him?" he roared. 
 
 "He got me!" Blaze winced as he lifted his arm. 
 "Plugged me back there, at the creek." 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 ONE-EYED MANUEL -was lazily polishing and 
 arranging his glasses into a formidable pyramid 
 when Buck Bodine banged open the swinging doors 
 and strode menacingly up to the bar. 
 
 He had not known what he would find. Over at 
 the ranch the noise of the guns had sounded like 
 the eclioes of a battle. Curiosity and his bravado 
 had brought him to this Basque stronghold. But the 
 wind had sent no murmur of the shooting into town. 
 Tuscarora and the others had left for the meeting 
 some time ago. 
 
 Bodine wondered if their absence argued any con- 
 nection with the fray. It did not seem reasonable 
 that every one had gone to the meeting. He had come 
 to town expecting to find all sorts of excitement. 
 Shorty and Gloomy had tried to dissuade Bodine. 
 He had smiled at them contemptuously. When he 
 wanted a thing, he went after it. 
 
 The firing had been sweet music to Bodine 's ears. 
 Whatever might be the outcome, he figured it could 
 not be other than to his liking. He wanted gun-play. 
 He had spoken the truth when he told Blaze that the 
 law was not his way. He hated the law. Life had 
 done nothing but make him suspicious of it. In his 
 heart he prayed that the Double A had become en- 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 87 
 
 tangled in a serious shooting affair. It would mean 
 an old-fashioned cow-man's war. Acklin could not 
 back out then. And if it came to a struggle of that 
 kind, his own insignificant forces would be only a 
 drop in the proverbial bucket. The Double A would 
 have to fight both his battle and their own. 
 
 The fact that the saloon was almost deserted did 
 not serve to soothe his temper. He had catapulted 
 into the place expecting to be jumped. Therefore 
 when he found he had girded his loins for nothing, 
 he sulked. 
 
 Manuel's back was to the door. He caught a flash 
 of his customer in the mirror. He had not forgotten 
 Bodine. The bad blood between the two men had not 
 turned to water. The Mexican's dead eye screwed 
 itself into an ugly wrinkle. His livid scars, left by 
 the knife that had cost him his eye, grew white. That 
 day fifty men had threatened Bodine 's life. Had the 
 man heard and come here for revenge ? 
 
 He kept his back to Bodine, pretending that he had 
 not seen him come in. It was his crude way of 
 attempting to play for time. 
 
 Buck took his action for something else. An empty 
 glass stood close to where he leaned against the bar. 
 "With an oath he picked it up and smashed.it against 
 the floor. 
 
 Manuel turned as if shot. 
 
 " Where 's all the Basque genie to-night?" he 
 asked insolently. ' ' Bah \ ' ' 
 
 He turned without waiting for the Mexican to re- 
 ply. In fact he expected no answer to his question. 
 
88 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 It was only his way of telling Manuel that he came 
 there without regard for any Basque. 
 
 Buck walked to the door. Over his shoulder he 
 threw a parting to the cowering Mexican: "You 
 need those pink pills for pale persons, carisima!" 
 
 With growing anger he strutted about the deserted 
 town, trying to learn what had happened at the fence. 
 His impatience was akin to that with which Juan and 
 Romero Ugarde and young Salvator Rodriguez and 
 their fellow-conspirators waited at the sheep corral 
 north of the Ugarde ranch for the belated Esteban. 
 
 They had come off untouched from their brush with 
 the Double A men. But their elation had waned per- 
 ceptibly as they sat there cooling their heels. The 
 pessimistic Romero voiced the opinion that they should 
 never see Esteban alive. The others were almost 
 ready to agree with him when the boy dashed in 
 among them. 
 
 Esteban 's regard for himself had altered largely 
 in the five miles he had come from the Chimney. With 
 the cheers of his followers ringing in his ears, he was 
 not inclined to tell them by what fortunate circum- 
 stance he was here, safe and sound. Therefore his 
 colorful recital held no mention of Kildare. When 
 he had finished, his position as their leader was 
 secure. 
 
 "Now they will listen to us!" Romero asserted. 
 "And if the old graybeards won't fight, we will strike 
 by ourselves. " 
 
 Cries of approval met this statement. 
 
 "You are right, Romero!" Esteban cried, fired by 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 89 
 
 their enthusiasm. "We '11 put an end, once for all, 
 to this talk of appealing to the law. When I 've told 
 them my story there '11 be plenty to side with us." 
 
 What a sweet morsel this bit of logic would have 
 been for Bodine ! He had foreseen it from the start. 
 
 With a jingle of spur-chains, they headed for the 
 Rancho. Esteban knew he could not change his story. 
 He had sworn to take sides against his father, and 
 these boys would see that he kept his word. The 
 nearer he drew to home the more formidable became 
 his task. He gritted his teeth in contemplation of it. 
 But this mood passed. Then for the first time he won- 
 dered why Kildare had let him escape. 
 
 This chain of reasoning led him to Mercedes. What 
 would she say when he told her about the man? Im- 
 mediately he realized that he could not tell her. 
 
 In the midst of this self-questioning, they came into 
 sight of the Eancho. Esteban stopped for a con- 
 sultation. He was against dashing into the meeting 
 hit-or-miss. His entrance, properly timed, was cal- 
 culated to have a very dramatic effect. He did not 
 intend to be cheated out of it. Accordingly he 
 despatched Romero to reconnoiter the ground for 
 him. 
 
 His lieutenant stole up to the hacienda unobserved. 
 Mingling with the crowd, he soon found that the sup- 
 posed attack on the fence was the sole topic of con- 
 versation. For although some of them had left Para- 
 dise in ignorance of it, the news had reached them 
 here. Only by inference had they been able to sur- 
 mise who had taken part in the affair. 
 
90 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Romero waited until the meeting got under way 
 before he stole back to his crowd. The dead silence 
 which had greeted old Jose's opening speech had im- 
 pressed young Ugarde. These men were here for 
 business ! 
 
 Tuscarora followed Jose. He had finished his ap- 
 peal for law and order and was about to show them 
 the foolhardiness of resorting to the tactics some of 
 their young men had employed earlier in the evening 
 when the wild clatter of rapidly driven horses forced 
 him to stop. 
 
 There was a hardening of faces, a quick look for 
 cover, and a drawing of guns. 
 
 Esteban could not have hoped for a more dramatic 
 entrance. He tramped authoritatively to the center 
 of the big room he knew so well. As soon as they 
 recognized him, the meeting resumed some of its or- 
 derly appearance. The boy's father got to his feet. 
 
 "What kind of play is this?" he demanded, his 
 face purple with anger. Jose felt that his son's con- 
 duct was nothing short of preposterous. The upstart ! 
 Had the boy no respect for his elders? 
 
 "Do I rightly suppose that you come from this 
 shooting affair?" 
 
 "I come from the other side of the Double A wire !" 
 the boy hurled back, determined to give as good as 
 he received. 
 
 In an instant the meeting was in an uproar. 
 Cries of "Tell us what you saw!" and "Now we 
 shall know the truth!" rang out. The ranchers had 
 not come there to listen to talk of peace and the law. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 91 
 
 They had been robbed, and they wanted action. At 
 last, it seemed, the meeting was going to get some- 
 where. 
 
 Cesar Ferri, a great hulk of a man from down on 
 the river, got to his feet, and, in a voice to match 
 his weight, shouted for silence. The very size of the 
 man seemed to have a commanding effect. 
 
 1 ' Give the boy a chance ! " he cried. ' ' Tell us how 
 you got by the fence. ' ' 
 
 Esteban told them; and the murmurs of approval 
 that greeted him as he went along gave the boy the 
 courage he needed. Jose and Tuscarora exchanged 
 glances. The thing they had feared was happening. 
 
 "I ran my hands over every inch of that pile of 
 rock and sand. No storm ever put it there! It is 
 full of granite and quartz stringers that are as sharp 
 as the day they were blown out of the solid rock." 
 
 He paused to let this information sink home. 
 
 "But they didn't stop there! The sandbar that 
 stretched across the mouth of "Webster Creek is gone. 
 The water came up to my neck. Now," he cried, 
 "you know the truth! Why did Acklin build that 
 fence to keep us out, if what I say is not so? Are 
 you satisfied to wait for the law in the face of this ? ' ' 
 
 "Dios mio, no!" Cesar yelled. "I fight! What 
 good is that water if we wait three months to get at ? 
 In two weeks our crops will be dead! Where will 
 we be next winter then?" 
 
 "It isn't only that we are robbed of our water," 
 Romero's father added, "but it is wasted before our 
 eyes. We all know about the sink that swallows every 
 
92 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 drop that reaches it ; and west of town Webster Creek 
 was running full to its banks to-day." 
 
 "Well, ain't it got a right to run there 1" The 
 question came over the heads of the crowd like the 
 snap of a whip. 
 
 As one man they turned and saw Bodine in the 
 doorway, standing head and shoulders above every- 
 body else in the room, a sardonic smile playing about 
 his mouth. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 FOR the second time that night revolvers were 
 snatched from their holsters. A hair-trigger 
 stillness crept into the room. Bodine's mouth lost its 
 grin and went hard. The cords in his neck stood 
 out. Into his eyes came the steely glitter of the killer. 
 
 Esteban was the first to move. Trembling with 
 fury that made him almost impotent, he walked to- 
 wards Bodine and, with his finger at the man's face, 
 shouted : ' ' You stool-pigeon ! You traitor ! Why do 
 you come here?" 
 
 Beside himself with rage, the boy drew his gun, 
 and, leveling it at Bodine, he cried in a voice that 
 shook with emotion: "Get out of here, or I '11 blow 
 your head off!" 
 
 Bodine expected such a play. He could have beaten 
 Esteban to the draw. But he showed his nerve in 
 choosing not to. If he had made the attempt some 
 one would have got him. He held the boy's eyes now 
 in a hypnotic stare. 
 
 Mercedes, attracted by the noise of her brother's 
 attack, had edged close to the storm-center. With 
 marvelous swiftness she reached for Esteban 's gun. 
 Bodine looked at her with a sense of relief. He was 
 glad that it had not been she who had attacked him. 
 
 93 
 
94 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 The boy tried to fight her off ; but Jose got between 
 them and took the gun. With blazing eyes he con- 
 fronted his son. 
 
 " Would you commit murder in your own home?" 
 he burst out. "This is still my house. I am still its 
 master!" 
 
 Father and son glared at each other, but the weight 
 of a score of years of submission was too much for 
 the boy. He turned and slunk away. At the door he 
 called back venomously: "Acklin's dog! That 's 
 what you are!" 
 
 Jose appeared not to notice his son's departure, so 
 intently did he watch Bodine. Even Mercedes had 
 slipped out without attracting his attention. 
 
 For the first time that night Buck began to grow 
 uneasy. The dignity of the old Basque was unas- 
 sailable. When all was said and done, it would be 
 from Jose and his kind, backed up by the law, that 
 the real danger would threaten, and he feared it. 
 
 He knew it was time for speech. He tried to ad- 
 dress them all, but against his will his gaze reverted 
 to Old Ironsides. 
 
 "He 's only a kid!" he repeated. "Just a kid! 
 This is no time for kindergarten cackle. I 'm going 
 to talk to men, like a man would. I bought out old 
 Hank Webster in good faith. I never saw Acklin 
 until I met him in this very Chouse. Before I bought 
 that place, I had the records searched. The State says 
 I am entitled to fourteen inches of water out of Web- 
 ster Creek. And I 'm going to get it." 
 
 "The law will decide that, Senor." It was Jose's 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 95 
 
 first direct statement to Bodine. There was an air 
 of finality about it. 
 
 " Fourteen inches ?" Tuscarora questioned sar- 
 castically. "You 've taken it all. 19 
 
 "You mean," Bodine contradicted, "that I 'm get- 
 ting it all. Well, I don't need it. Suppose we for- 
 get for a moment how the water changed its course 
 and consider the facts. I 've got the water now! 
 You can't go against that. Suppose we turn it back 
 into the Rebel, do I get my share?" 
 
 "If you did, Senor, there would be none left for 
 us," Jose answered. "I know Webster filed for four- 
 teen inches of water, but if we agree to any such 
 compromise, there won't be an inch of water left to 
 flow into the Washoe. Acklin and you would have 
 it all, and we would be helping you to it. We have 
 all filed, and been granted water rights on either 
 Rebel Creek or the Little Washoe. What about 
 that?" 
 
 "My rights have priority over all other water rights 
 in this valley, exceptin' Acklin 's!" Buck tried to 
 drop this statement like a bombshell. He gazed about 
 the room to watch its effect. 
 
 Jose shook his head judicially. 
 
 "Again I say, the law will decide! If Acklin 
 builds a fence on his own property to keep us out, 
 that is his right. If we destroy it, or trespass on 
 his land, and resort to our guns, then we are outside 
 the law. We want to go into court with clean hands ! ' ' 
 
 "You bet," Tuscarora chimed in. "In a week we 
 will find out where we 're at. We all know Tom 
 
96 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Brand. He 's been on the square with us every time. 
 I '11 run down and see him." 
 
 The little man stopped short. His eyes singled out 
 Bodine : 
 
 "Now, suppose you beat it out of here, big fellow. 
 The going may be rough if you wait until this meet- 
 ing breaks up." 
 
 "Don't come back, either!" some one yelled. 
 
 Bodine 's eyebrows flattened out. 
 
 "I '11 go," he muttered. "But not because any one 
 here looks bad to me. I came to talk peace j but all 
 I 've heard is a lot of mouthing about the law. I 
 hope you '11 be satisfied with what the law gives you. J ' 
 
 1 ' Make the thief go ! " a man in the back of the room 
 cried. 
 
 The remark made Buck's lips curl in scorn. In 
 silence he started out. He had not gone far when 
 some one tittered : "I hope he takes the right horse. ' ' 
 
 Bodine 's face went scarlet. Ridicule had broken 
 through his armor where everything else had failed. 
 He was thoroughly angry when he reached the door 
 that led to the patio. His offer to compromise had 
 been only a trick to get them on record as recognizing 
 some of his claims. That Jose had seen through it, 
 made it all the more bitter to his taste. With a curse, 
 he made for his horse. 
 
 He had reached the end of the veranda and was 
 about to open the patio gate when he almost stumbled 
 over Basilic. 
 
 Mercedes had found the boy awake when she had 
 left the room where the meeting was held, so she had 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 97 
 
 dressed him, and the two of them had wandered about 
 in the moonlight. 
 
 She heard the child cry, and saw Bodine raise his 
 foot and brush him aside. In a second she was up 
 with them, and took the little fellow into her arms. 
 
 "You fiend!" she cried. "You brute! There is 
 no part of a man about you. There! Don't cry, 
 fofmomfo," she crooned. "This beast will pay yet!" 
 To Bodine she said : "It is good you run away before 
 the men come." 
 
 Basilio ceased crying and Mercedes started him 
 into the patio ; but she stood her ground and laughed 
 contemptuously at her enemy. 
 
 Bodine 's cruel mouth held its diabolical grin as he 
 got into his saddle. Once seated, he wheeled his horse 
 on its hind legs and, reaching down, caught the sur- 
 prised girl around the waist and lifted her beside 
 him. She bit and scratched him; but he was too 
 strong for her. Bending his head, he kissed her pas- 
 sionately on her unprotected lips. Her finger nails 
 ripped his face as he put her down. 
 
 "Laugh now, you little spitfire!" he called back as 
 he used his spurs and waved his hand at her care- 
 lessly. 
 
 Hot tears came into the girl's eyes. "When she 
 gained her room, she scrubbed her lips with soap and 
 water until they burned. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 ESTEBAN'S ignominious retreat smarted him to 
 the heart. He sulked and fumed for a long time 
 before he found the courage to face Romero and the 
 caustic Salvator. 
 
 While he had been outside, venting his wrath on 
 the desert night, they made plans of their own. 
 Romero had passed the word to those apparently dis- 
 satisfied with the way the meeting was going to be 
 at Cesar's place atonidnight. They did .not importune 
 Esteban to join them. He felt the rebuff, and im- 
 mediately resolved to go. 
 
 Unobserved, he stole to his room, to wait there for 
 his father to retire. 
 
 It was his supposed absence that kept Jose awake. 
 When the meeting ha'd ended he had looked about 
 in vain for the boy. Knowing the ways of his hot- 
 tempered son, he did not believe that Esteban had 
 gone to his room. 
 
 Thoughts, gloomy and foreboding, filled the old 
 man's mind as he walked with lowered head among 
 the withered and dying flowers of the once beautiful 
 patio. He felt that he and his son were far apart in 
 this crisis. And he was old enough to want to lean 
 on his boy. Jose shook his head sadly. 
 
 Above him a window was raised. He saw Mer- 
 98 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 99 
 
 cedes gazing down into the patio. Jose's face re- 
 laxed as he caught sight of her. She more than made 
 up for all the trouble and care life had brought him. 
 Knowing she would not close her eyes until she heard 
 him retire, he shook the ashes from his pipe and went 
 indoors. 
 
 Esteban heard him, too, and he chafed in his im- 
 patience for fifteen minutes before he dared to move. 
 He had brought his reata to his room, and when 
 he had opened his window he quickly noosed the rope 
 over a bed-post and slid noiselessly to the ground. 
 
 It took him some time to reach Ferri's house. 
 
 "We have our guns with us ; Cesar has tools enough 
 to go around," Romero was saying as Esteban ar- 
 rived. "We '11 go up Rebel Creek as far as the wire. 
 We can cut it before we are discovered. Once inside, 
 you can hold off their men while some of us make 
 short work of that bank. A stick of dynamite will 
 blow it into Idaho! We won't wait for any law! 
 Once we get the water turned where it belongs, 
 Acklin and Bodine will never get it back. If you are 
 willing to try it, raise your hands!" 
 
 "Ole' cowipaneros!" the massive Cesar shouted. 
 "We will win our battle to-night! Let me see who 
 are the cowards!" 
 
 One by one the hands went up, until Romero 
 waved his followers to their horses. At the barn they 
 stopped for shovels and whatever tools Cesar could 
 find. Then with a flourish they fled into the north, 
 twenty strong, Esteban among them. 
 
 Talk died away as they rode. An eloquent silence 
 
100 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 hung upon them. And as they moved through the 
 velvety night the man whom they hoped to catch off 
 his guard sipped coffee with a dozen of his riders in 
 the dimly lighted dining-room at the Bull's Head. 
 Kildare, his arm bandaged, lounged across the table 
 from Morrow. Somebody yawned. Cash looked at 
 his watch. It was almost two o 'clock. Brother Jones 
 called for the coffee-pot. 
 
 "What ungodly hours for a man of my years and 
 manners ! " he moaned. ' ' When do we move, Cash ? ' ' 
 
 "Any time now," Morrow grumbled. "I suppose 
 if I take you boys down there for nothing, you '11 
 be biting your false teeth for missing a night's sleep. 
 But if we have a brush, and half of you are shot up, 
 it'll be O. K." He paused. "Somethin' sure to 
 come out of that meetin'. Get that coffee down, and 
 we '11 drift." 
 
 Melody, Brother Jones, Patterson, and the rest of 
 the men got to their feet and began buckling on their 
 guns. Cash scratched his head unconsciously. 
 
 "Wish the Big Boss was here," he said aloud. 
 "Tried to get him over to the X L. Peter said he 
 had n 't been there. That 's funny, too ; said he was 
 going there." The foreman paused. "Boys," he 
 went on slowly, in a tone that said he made his 
 decision as he went along, "we 're going into the 
 valley below our wire!" 
 
 Hands stopped moving. Some one dropped a gun. 
 With one accord they turned and regarded him ex- 
 pectantly. Cash caught the tension. 
 
 "The fence is fifty yards inside our line," he went 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 101 
 
 on. " We built it there so as to be safe without check- 
 ing up. We '11 go down through the Chimney, and 
 still-hunt from the little coulee that lies half-way 
 to the creek. If we have any trouble we '11 be on 
 our own land. They '11 never expect to find us outside 
 the fence." 
 
 Morrow looked his men over. They had finished 
 strapping on their holsters evidence that they were 
 agreeable to his plan. The foreman's eyes rested on 
 Blaze. He had picked up his gun along with the 
 others. 
 
 "You ain't goin', are you, Kildare; not with that 
 arm?" Cash asked, a note of gruff admiration for 
 the man 's pluck creeping into his voice. 
 
 "My business arm is all right," Blaze grinned. 
 "I 'm aimin' to see this thing through." 
 
 Dark screening clouds hid the moon as they made 
 the coulee. Brother Jones started for the creek-bot- 
 tom. He went a hundred yards when he turned to 
 send them a low cautious whistle. 
 
 Cash held up his hand. The little cavalcade moved 
 quietly to where the old man stood. 
 
 "They 're coming now," Brother Jones whispered. 
 "About two dozen! They '11 be up to the wire in 
 three or four minutes. I caught 'em jumping 'crost 
 that bare spot round the bend. Now there '11 be hell 
 to pay." 
 
 "Wait till they get to the fence," Morrow ordered. 
 
 One minute, . . . two minutes, ... a few seconds, 
 . . . and the creek bottom swarmed with men. Mor- 
 row 's hand went up. The old battle-cry of the Double 
 
102 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 A rang out and, like the fabled demons of the Andes, 
 Acklin's hired warriors crashed into the bewildered. 
 Basques. 
 
 In consternation and dismay the invaders tried to 
 recover from their surprise. But the unexpectedness 
 of the attack had destroyed whatever morale they 
 
 Esteban and Romero shrieked at their companions 
 to stand their ground. Neither could swing that 
 madly milling crowd. Shovels and picks were dropped 
 in panicky flight. To get away as quickly as possible 
 seemed to be the one ambition of most of the men from 
 the valley. 
 
 Little Salvator and four or five others, however, 
 fought their way to Esteban 's side and tried to re- 
 turn the fire of Acklin's riders. But every time the 
 Double A guns roared and ripped wide the darkness, 
 some one deserted. 
 
 The firing continued. Salvator looked for his com- 
 panions. Only Esteban, Romero, and he were left. 
 Then, seeing the battle was hopeless, he followed his 
 friends. Romero and Esteban had about enough of 
 it, too. The bank of the creek offered them fair pro- 
 tection. Around the bend the ground flattened out. 
 It meant a wild dash as the Double A men closed in. 
 
 Romero rolled the whites of his eyes. No matter 
 what the danger, he was going to chance it. It was 
 death to stay where they were. With a yell to Este- 
 ban, he started. The young firebrand was at his heels 
 instantly. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 103 
 
 Ten seconds brought them to the flat country where 
 they were an easy target. The Double A guns 
 flashed. One of the boys shrieked and toppled out of 
 his saddle. A second volley followed, but the other 
 Basque was out of sight. 
 
 "Who is he?" Cash cried, as Melody and Blaze 
 rode down into the botton. 
 
 The boy lay on his face. Melody turned him over. 
 
 "Ain't that too bad?" he groaned. Then to Cash: 
 "It's Old Ironsides 'skid!" 
 
 Blaze's face was a study. 
 
 * * Once was not enough for you, ' ' he murmured, not 
 unkindly, as he bent to lift Esteban's head. 
 
 The boy's face was covered with blood. Blaze 
 pushed the hair back to find the wound. A deep 
 furrow showed where the bullet had torn through the 
 scalp. 
 
 Blaze got to his feet. "I don't think he got it deep 
 enough to be serious. Better take him in. 
 
 "Sure, take him along," Cash growled. "We can't 
 eat him ! You take him up, Melody ? ' ' Melody nodded. 
 ' ' Take a look around, boys, ' ' Cash went on. * * Maybe 
 you '11 find another one or two along the creek. We '11 
 all turn in when you get back. Say," Cash grinned, 
 "those birds thought the hambone o' hell had hit 
 'em, did n 't they ? Yes, sir ! " 
 
 And as they carried Esteban to the Bull's Head, 
 Mercedes wondered why little Basilio sobbed as he 
 tossed in his tiny bed. Long desert-miles stretched 
 between the Rancho Buena Vista and the spot where 
 
104 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Esteban fell. And yet, with an intuition rare even 
 among the blind, the little lad knew that something 1 
 terrible had happened. 
 
 Mercedes awakened her brother and tried to com- 
 fort him. "What is the matter?" she implored. 
 
 "Esteban!" he cried; "something bad has come, 
 madrecita. " 
 
 The little pet name went unheard. Mercedes only 
 knew her throat was dry with sudden agony. She had 
 had her own misgivings about Esteban. Silently the 
 frightened girl stole to his room and knocked softly. 
 Getting no answer, she tried the knob, but the door 
 was locked. It seemed to confirm her fears. Doors 
 were never locked at the Rancho. 
 
 Mercedes returned to Basilio thoroughly upset. 
 She hesitated about calling her father; but as the 
 minutes went by, she felt she must. Hastily throwing 
 on a wrap, she started for Jose's room. The hallway 
 made a sharp angle as it turned to lead into the wing 
 where he slept. A small window opened on the front 
 yard from the angle. 
 
 Without thinking, Mercedes stopped and looked 
 down. Esteban 's window was plainly visible; and 
 hanging from it she saw the dangling reata. 
 
 "Madre de Dios!" she gasped; "the child is right!" 
 
 With swift feet, she ran for her father. Through 
 the closed door she told him what she had discovered. 
 Jose bade her go back to Basilio. He dressed hur- 
 riedly and followed her to the little fellow's bedside. 
 
 "Come here, el hi jo mio," he said in wistful tones, 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 105 
 
 as he took the boy into his arms. "What is wrong?" 
 
 "I heard guns bad guns. And I pointed my 
 finger where I heard them, and it was toward the end 
 of the bed north! And I saw Esteban! He was 
 hurt!" 
 
 Jose petted and caressed him until his tears stopped. 
 "There, there, don't let those bad dreams upset you, 
 nino." In a few minutes the child was asleep. 
 
 Then Mercedes and her father tiptoed downstairs. 
 The old Basque pulled the bell-cord for Mariano. 
 When the mozo appeared, frightened at being called 
 at this unusual hour, Jose ordered him to get his 
 horse. 
 
 Tears filled Mercedes's eyes as she saw her father 
 take down his rifle and fill his long-unused belt with 
 cartridges. His set face and sparing words did not 
 serve to lessen her dread. 
 
 Jose sighed and sank into a chair. Mercedes came 
 to him and put her arm about his shoulders. 
 
 1 1 The vagaries . . . the misunderstandings of youth 
 . . . And still he has been a good boy a good son. 
 But, qu&rida, a boy is only a boy! He forgets that, 
 and I need him now. Vdlgame Dios! I hope I find 
 him." 
 
 A hot tear from Mercedes's eyes fell on his cheek. 
 He drew her face down close to his. 
 
 "Don't cry, nina," he begged. "Tears in your 
 eyes always bring your mother close to me. And, 
 oh, you are so like her, so like her, little one. We '11 
 say a prayer for her before I go." 
 
106 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Jose 's eyes were misty when he got to his feet, and 
 to hide his emotion he stormed at the overdue 
 Mariano. 
 
 Mercedes caught her father's hand. She did not 
 want him to go. Bather, she wanted him to go, but 
 fear tugged at her heart and made her afraid of see- 
 ing him leave. 
 
 Jose bent down from his saddle to kiss her. Mer- 
 cedes clung to him. 
 
 "I am afraid," she said in tones choked with emo- 
 tion. 
 
 "Afraid!" 
 
 "For you, Father. Why not wait until sun-up?" 
 She held his hand to her face. He shook his head. 
 "You will be careful, dear? I '11 wait up until you 
 come back." 
 
 "Don't do that, muchacha," the old man pleaded. 
 "I 11 find Morrow, and learn from him if there has 
 been any trouble. I '11 be back in two hours. Adios, 
 querida!" 
 
 When Jose had crossed the creek he held to the 
 north until he came to the entrance of Smoky Canon. 
 In happier times he would have used the trail that 
 led through it to the mesa above, whence an old wood- 
 road crossed to the Bull's Head. 
 
 He turned his horse into the longer trail that led 
 to the fence and up to the Chimney. As he did so, 
 a gun flashed from the rim-rocks above him. His 
 horse jumped, and Jose lurched and fell head fore- 
 most to the ground. He rolled over on his side in a 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 107 
 
 brief convulsion and then lay still. No moan or sigh 
 of pain escaped him. 
 
 On the rocks high above, a tall figure arose and 
 peered down at his victim. A second and he was 
 gone. The sound of a galloping horse came down 
 the canon. It rapidly died away. 
 
 Jose's horse stared at his fallen master. He came 
 close and nudged him with his nose. But the wide- 
 open, unseeing eyes of the man who had ridden him 
 so long were glazed in death. 
 
 Old Ironsides would never ride the trails again ! 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 LONG- before the first faint hint of dawn had 
 tinged the sky, the Rancho Buena Vista was 
 awake. Mercedes was ashen. First her brother and 
 then her father had ridden away and had failed to 
 return. 
 
 Unable to stand inaction any longer, she left the 
 house and walked as far as the creek-bottom where 
 her father had crossed, listening for any sound that 
 might announce his return. 
 
 The stillness oppressed her. Thoroughly frightened, 
 she ran back to the hacienda and roused Mariano. 
 Teresa, his wrinkled and superannuated wife, came 
 with her lord. 
 
 The tone in which she commanded him to hurry 
 made the old mozo move faster than he had been wont 
 to do for some years. Teresa opened her eyes, too. 
 
 "When Mariano returned with only Henaro, Mer- 
 cedes's face fell. She had not known that her father 
 had sent the other men to the railroad with sheep. 
 But she lost no time in despatching the vaquero for 
 Kent. Old Mariano was put to service ; she sent him 
 to Ugarde's place, because it was nearest. 
 
 " Don't come back until you find them," she or- 
 dered. "At daylight I will go myself to the Bull's 
 Head. Senor Acklin will talk to me ! If my father 
 
 108 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 109 
 
 or brother return before I leave, you shall be told. 
 And if you have word, take no thought of your horses 
 in getting it to me. Ride!" 
 
 The men went out, and Mercedes sent Teresa up- 
 stairs to Basilio. The old Indian obeyed, but she 
 wagged her head from side to side as she left, chanting 
 oracularly in a voice that Mercedes could not help 
 but hear: "Por Dios! For Dios! The walls are 
 damp; the ditches smell; last night the sun paled as 
 it went to bed; the dogs ate grass: sorrow, sorrow 
 ... I could hear the crow 's black wings ! ' ' 
 
 The closing door put an end to her dismal words. 
 Mercedes caught her pinto and saddled him. A pale 
 yellow tinged the sky above the eastern range. The 
 cold yellow became pink; a frigid unreal pink: cool 
 blues and purples followed. And then, tone by tone, 
 fire and warmth and life crept into the sky. It was 
 dawn ! So long she sat in her saddle without moving. 
 No sound of hurrying horsemen reached her. 
 
 Loping along in the still uncertain light, Mercedes's 
 mind centered on the Bull 's Head and what she would 
 find there. Acklin's shadow darkened all of her 
 thoughts. But even so she became aware of the in- 
 sistence of the coyotes' barking. It was not their 
 short yip-yipping so much as the long-drawn, almost 
 wolfish cry that followed. It told her plainly enough 
 that they had cornered something and were waiting 
 for the kill. 
 
 Mercedes sent her horse into a gallop. When she 
 topped a shallow arroyo her heart stopped beating as 
 she caught sight of her father's powerful bay stand- 
 
110 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 ing riderless, his head lowered and sweeping from 
 side to side. 
 
 Something snapped in the girl. She lashed her pony 
 into a neck-breaking pace. As she drew near, she 
 saw the bay's eyes were rolling. He snorted as she 
 she came on, but continued to lace out right and left 
 with his hind legs. 
 
 Ringed about him, red tongues sliding out over their 
 wet fangs, crouched the coyote pack. Rabies had 
 spread among them so generally that they were no 
 longer the skulking cowards they had been. Mercedes 
 emptied her gun at them; they slunk away. 
 
 She walked her pinto to where the other horse 
 stood swaying. And then there at his feet, she saw 
 the huddled body of her father. Her flesh quivered; 
 her muscles refused to act. 
 
 "Oh! oh! oh! oh!" she moaned; it was a sob of 
 titter grief such as wild animals voice when they are 
 stabbed to the heart. "Without knowing how she ac- 
 complished it, she slid to the ground. The bay backed 
 off. 
 
 Mercedes got to her knees and felt her father's 
 cold hand. She promised herself she would be brave ; 
 that she would not give way. Then with sickening 
 heart, she saw the terrible wound. Tenderly her 
 hands caressed his snow-white beard and hair; the 
 cheeks so cold; the fine strong forehead, rugged even 
 in death. 
 
 Tears swam in her eyes. She begged him to speak 
 to her. "Come back to me ... come, come! Father 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 111 
 
 . . . Father . . . Father . . . Don't leave me like 
 this. Don't . . . don't . . . don't . . . oh!" 
 
 Then slowly and surely the truth began to creep 
 into her tortured brain. Conviction grew and settled 
 upon her. He was never coming back. Never ! 
 
 Her tears ceased. Into her face came the stoical 
 hardness of the Basque. In this minute Mercedes 
 left girlhood behind. She thought of her brother. 
 Had he shared a like fate? Dry-eyed she faced that 
 possibility. The depths of her had been sounded at 
 her dead father's side. 
 
 Trance-like, she got to her feet and picked up his 
 rifle. She broke it, to find that it had not been dis- 
 charged. She laid it beside him. The big bay watched 
 her carefully. Mercedes called the horse to her. She 
 stroked his nose. "He '11 never ride you again, Car- 
 bajal." 
 
 The sun was clear of the mountains. Above her 
 the buzzards began to circle. She scanned the horizon 
 nervously. What was she to do ? The threat of the 
 arching sun made the moving of her father's body 
 imperative. The scavenger horde, gathering above, 
 only waited for the girl to leave. Her own puny 
 strength was not equal to the task of lifting her dead 
 to the bay's back. 
 
 There came then, down Smoky Canon, the pitter- 
 patter of a horse. Mercedes caught sight of him as 
 he struck the flat that stretched back into the rocky 
 defile. With a thrill she recognized Kildare. 
 
 When Blaze saw who it was ahead of him, his knees 
 
112 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 bored into his horse's sides, and My Man raced to 
 where Mercedes stood. The grim figure on the 
 ground, the overwrought girl, and the empty-saddled 
 bay told their own story. The message he brought 
 her would have to wait now. He jumped down, and 
 unconsciously, in his instant sympathy, held out both 
 his hands to her. Without knowing that she did so, 
 her fingers caught and held them. 
 
 Blaze shot rapid questions at Mercedes. As she re- 
 told her discovery of her father's body, she cried in 
 spite of her determination not to. 
 
 " Don't cry, little woman," Blaze murmured con- 
 solingly. "Your father was a good man. You Ve 
 nothing but fine memories left of him. It 's hard to 
 see him go this way ; but whoever killed him will pay 
 for it. I promise you that." 
 
 He got down beside Jose and examined the torn 
 chest. 
 
 "A long-range gun and a high-power bullet did 
 this, ' ' he told her. After he got to his feet he scanned 
 the ragged rim-rocks nervously; and sought for an 
 excuse to get the girl away. "You 'd better ride 
 to the hacienda and get a rig; that is, if you think 
 you 're able to make it." 
 
 "If you will wait, I"ll go at once," Mercedes an- 
 swered. 
 
 "I 'm only too glad to help you." 
 
 Mercedes 's eyes showed her appreciation. 
 
 "You are very kind, Senor. Some day I may be 
 able to pay you back. ' ' 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 113 
 
 "I 've got all the pay I need right now, Senorita, ' ' 
 Blaze mumbled as he helped her into her saddle and 
 stood beside her, hat in hand. "I aim to be your 
 friend, if you '11 let me." 
 
 Mercedes's sad eyes searched his face. 
 
 "I have great need of a friend, Senor." 
 
 Impulsively she placed her hand on his head. In 
 low tones she murmured: " There is a Basque his- 
 toric . . . what you call ... a ... a ... saying: 
 'La verdad es amarga; quien te la dice te estima.' 
 The truth is bitter; he who speaks like that to thee 
 esteems thee very much." Mercedes paused. The 
 man's eyes held her own. "We will speak the truth 
 to each other, I guess, Senor." 
 
 Straight-backed, the little thoroughbred rode off. 
 Blaze watched her until she was out of sight. "God 
 bless you, ' ' he murmured aloud. " I 11 keep my word 
 with you." 
 
CHAPTER XIY 
 
 carefulness with which Kildare examined the 
 A death wound, now that he was alone, and the 
 patience with which he set about locating as nearly 
 as possible the spot from which the assailant had fired 
 his bullet, were methodically efficient. 
 
 In a dozen ways he pictured the shooting; but al- 
 ways, by the simple means of deduction and common- 
 sense, his answer led him to the point of rocks above 
 him. As his reasoning continued to bring him time 
 after time to the same conclusion, he became ob- 
 sessed with the desire to examine the ledge. 
 
 Blaze eyed the buzzards circling above him; he 
 picked up Jose 's gun and killed three of them. With 
 a wild screeching, the feathered horde rose until it 
 was a mere speck against the sky. 
 
 Hurriedly Blaze turned Jose's face downward and 
 pulled the old man's coat over the head. Quickly 
 then he tore off his own shirt and vest, and draped 
 them over a dead sage-brush. On top of it he placed 
 his hat. The result was a crude scare-crow. Leaping 
 into his saddle, he galloped off before the feathered 
 scavengers should return to discover his deception. 
 
 When he had gained the rim-rocks, Blaze crawled 
 on hands and knees to their edge. For twenty 
 yards, he studied the decayed rock. He came to a 
 
 114 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 115 
 
 flat spot, three yards square. Fine sand filled the 
 pockets in the decomposed granite. In one of them 
 there was the unmistakable imprint of a boot-mark. 
 Blaze threw himself down beside it and stretched his 
 length as he imagined the assassin had done. Op- 
 posite the indentions his elbow made as he held a 
 fancied rifle he found the mark of the other's arm. 
 But the man was taller than he. The distance from 
 toe-mark to elbow was a good five inches longer than 
 the impressions his own body made. 
 
 Without disturbing the sand, Blaze searched for 
 other signs that might tell him something. In a hol- 
 low, about where the waist of the assailant should 
 have come, he discovered the die-clear stamp of a 
 Navajo luck-charm. The outlines were clear and dis- 
 tinct. If lead had been poured into the impression 
 it would have hardened into a crude duplicate of the 
 charm which had made the mold. 
 
 Kildare 's brow wrinkled as he stared at the cryptic 
 Indian letters. The two crossed and inverted capital 
 L 's were used on gun-butts, wristlets, buttons, and all 
 the other cow-boy equipment that was made at Pen- 
 dleton. The lower tip of the swastika was bent in- 
 ward. 
 
 "Looks as if a watch-charm made that mark," he 
 murmured to himself. "That ought to prove some- 
 thing some day, maybe. Wonder where the empty 
 sheU is." 
 
 It lay in the roots of a dwarfed sage-brush, two 
 yards away, where the ejector had thrown it. 
 
 He was about to leave when, on second thought, he 
 
116 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 covered the marks in the sand with rocks so that 
 they would not be effaced. 
 
 A moving dust-cloud that hugged the Rebel caught 
 his eye as it grew in the distance. "That '11 be her, 
 poor little devil, ' ' he said to himself. A half an hour 
 later he had donned his shirt and hat and awaited 
 the girl's arrival. 
 
 Little Basilio sat beside Mercedes as she drew up 
 her team. She had found that the men had not 
 returned to the Rancho. 
 
 Blaze reached up his hands to lift the little fellow 
 to the ground. "Hello, little chief," he murmured, 
 trying to take the droop out of the lad's mouth. 
 
 The child recognized the friendly voice. He dug 
 his little fists into his blind eyes in a vain attempt to 
 check his tears. 
 
 "Wh wha where 's my daddy, Senor Blaze?" 
 he echoed. 
 
 Basilio knew his father's features only through the 
 touch of his sensitive fingers. And now, as he knelt 
 beside the still form, he felt for the beloved mouth 
 and nose and cheeks. "When his repeated pleadings 
 failed to arouse the old man, he wailed out the agony 
 in his soul. 
 
 Dry-eyed, Mercedes watched as Blaze held the little 
 fellow on his knee and petted him. Basilio had been 
 friendly with My Man once before, so Kildare put him 
 on the horse's back now. My Man arched his neck 
 and whinnied as he regarded the boy. The child was 
 reassured immediately. 
 
 Then, with Mercedes's help, all that was left of Old 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 117 
 
 Ironsides was placed in the wagon. While they had 
 been busy at their task, Basilio had continued his 
 friendship with the horse. They were ready to go 
 now, and both Mercedes and Blaze turned inquiring 
 eyes at the boy. He was busily playing with the 
 canteen that hung from the saddle. Mercedes's face 
 grew wistful as she regarded the little fellow. On the 
 heels of this, gratitude for the man's thoughtfulness 
 showed, too. 
 
 * ' I want a drink from your water-bag, Senor Blaze, 
 please," the child begged. 
 
 Mercedes looked at Kildare, and as he nodded ready 
 consent, she reached to the horn of the saddle to 
 lift the canteen to the boy's lips. Unconsciously, she 
 turned it over in her hands. There, stenciled on the 
 wet canvas covering, she saw the capital "A A" with 
 which Acklin stamped his property. 
 
 ' ' Oh-h-h ! Oh-h-h ! " she moaned. In that first ex- 
 clamation there was instant anger and hatred; but 
 the second held only a hurt, and comprehension of 
 shattered faith. Too late, Blaze understood. But be- 
 fore he could speak, Mercedes caught up the canteen, 
 and tiger-like hurled it to the ground. Swinging on 
 her heels she faced him. "You a Double A man?" 
 She waited for no answer. Her lips curled in con- 
 tempt : "A Double A spy I ' ' 
 
 Blaze felt his face go white. With cruel insistence 
 Mercedes's flaming eyes swept him. 
 
 "And I trusted you! Fool that I was! Siento 
 mucho que listed se hay a molestado," she cried, 
 breaking into Spanish hysterically as her over- 
 
118 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 wrought nerves collapsed. "I rather see my father 
 lie here for those birds in the air than you should 
 have touch him. O Holy Virgin, have you no heart ? ' ' 
 she moaned, as the tears choked her. "It is not 
 enough that they kill my father; Senor Acklin must 
 send you here to spy and pretend to help me/' 
 
 "Don't convict me without giving me a chance to 
 defend myself/' Kildare pleaded. "I am a Double 
 A man; but I didn't come here to spy. You don't 
 know what you 've said. Spy? I 'd sure take that 
 word from no man! Why do you say Acklin killed 
 your father?" 
 
 "Who else so much wanted him out of the way? 
 He had no enemies. Acklin!" It was an unholy 
 word as she uttered it: "And his greed; they were 
 all my father feared." 
 
 "Even so," Blaze countered, "it 's not a cow-man's 
 way to shoot in the back or from ambush. I was 
 going to the hacienda when I met you." 
 
 There was frank disbelief in the girl 's eyes. Blaze 
 knew there was nothing to do now but to tell her 
 the truth. 
 
 "We had some shooting at the fence last night. 
 Esteban " 
 
 ' ' Esteban ? Is he killed, too ? " 
 
 "No, he 's just wounded. The Big Boss sent me 
 down to get you. That 's the business that brought 
 me here. We took the boy in as soon as we found 
 him. He '11 be all right in a week or so." 
 
 "The Double A covers itself with the blood of my 
 people," she cried. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 119 
 
 "Esteban got his fair and square," Blaze an- 
 swered with heat. I don't aim to trail with a crowd 
 that kills old men from cover. That 's not my cut! 
 I 'd do anything I could to ease the ache you 've got 
 in your heart. We are goin' to go now. We can't 
 stay here/' 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 KENT was waiting for them at the Rancho. 
 Henaro had caught him and brought him back 
 as he was about to leave for Winnemucca. Jose's 
 death affected Tuscarora visibly. He tried his best 
 to console Mercedes. 
 
 When they had finished their sad task, the two men 
 went outside. 
 
 "I told you there 'd be killin'," he murmured. 
 
 ' * I know, but do you believe this fight had anything 
 to do with the old man's death?" 
 
 "Do I?" There was no mistaking his tone. 
 "What do you say? I 'd sure like to hear any other 
 reason for it." 
 
 "Well, just the same, I don't believe the Double A 
 had anything to do with it. ' ' 
 
 "I don't suppose you do," Tuscarora answered not 
 unkindly. "You know what I think about Acklin. 
 The two of you don't belong in the same county. 
 You '11 learn!" 
 
 Tuscarora retold the way in which Old Ironsides 
 had stood up for law and order at the meeting. 
 
 ' ' That 's why they wanted him out of the way, ' ' he 
 went on. "Jose wasn't fooled a bit by Acklin or 
 Bodine; so they got him." He paused, his mouth 
 cold and hard. "I suppose they '11 get me next. 
 
 120 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 121 
 
 Well! That won't be so bad. I 've risked my skin 
 times a-plenty for less. But if I live I aim to find 
 out who did the killing. " 
 
 Blaze was about to voice his own determination to 
 do likewise when Mercedes joined them, ready for the 
 ride to the Bull's Head. A stoical calmness rested 
 upon her, leaving her a beautiful, madonna-like crea- 
 ture. 
 
 Tuscarora rode with them for a mile before he 
 turned for town. He had offered to see the under- 
 taker and priest and do those other errands which 
 death makes necessary. 
 
 When they rode into the yard at the Bull's Head, 
 Acklin met them. He dismissed Kildare with a curt 
 nod but turned a covetous, ingratiating smile on 
 Mercedes. The whiteness of her face and her tired 
 eyes were not lost on Acklin. 
 
 "Even though it 's bad business that brings you 
 to the Bull's Head," he said sympathetically, in an 
 attempt to draw her out, "I 'm mighty glad to wel- 
 come you. This is the first chance you 've ever given 
 me to do it, Mercedes." 
 
 "I do not come here to make talk, Senor Acklin. 
 Where is my brother?" 
 
 "Why, he 's upstairs. Melody is looking after 
 him, ' ' he went on in an effort to conciliate her. * ' I 'm 
 right sorry the boy was hurt. He should have minded 
 his own business. I was n't here when this fight hap- 
 pened. Anyways, you shouldn't be so down on me. 
 When this thing has all blown over, you '11 find that 
 I 'm your friend." 
 
122 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 His words fell on deaf ears. The impatience and 
 annoyance which flashed alternately into her eyes 
 were the only signs she gave that she had heard. At 
 that moment, Acklin would have given his soul to 
 have taken her beautiful body into his arms and 
 smothered her red lips with his kisses. Mercedes 
 must have guessed his thought. She looked to where 
 Kildare lounged on the porch with Chet Devine. 
 
 "You sent word to me that Esteban is shot," she 
 said icily ; * ' that he is here ! I came willingly. If my 
 brother is here, take me to him." 
 
 ' ' Oh, what 's the matter, Senorita ? ' ' Acklin purred. 
 "Of course he 's here. You can see him right now. 
 Come on!" 
 
 Mercedes followed the big ranchman along the 
 porch to where the two riders sat opposite the en- 
 trance to the stairway. As they drew near they heard 
 a voice raised in song; a wild, rollicking, not overly 
 proper bunk-house song. Blaze and Chet had evi- 
 dently been taking it in. 
 
 The singer began another verse: 
 
 I battered down to old Salt Lake, 
 
 And found the prophets just a fake. 
 
 Dodgin' wives has soured their lives; 
 
 It 'e changed their laughs to frowns. 
 
 You never see them smile no more in the Mormon towns. 
 
 Gid-di-ap, gid-di-ap, who said polygamy! 
 
 Oh, I will never settle down, 
 
 A bachelor I will be, 
 
 I '11 get a ... 
 
 Acklin stopped in the doorway, impeding Mer- 
 cedes's entrance. "Tell him to stop that noise," he 
 demanded of Chet. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 123 
 
 "Hey! Ladies present, Melody !" Chet called. 
 "Cut the song." 
 
 Melody stuck his flaming head over the banister 
 above them, and called: " 'S'all right! Just made 
 his bed." 
 
 To Acklin's chagrin, Mercedes shook hands with 
 Melody. 
 
 "Sorry you heard me singin' that-a-way," the 
 red-haired one went on. "But that song 's the real 
 McCoy, though. It actually had your brother 
 smilin'." 
 
 He led them to where Esteban lay. 
 
 The meeting between the wounded boy and his 
 sister was more than the sensitive singer could stand. 
 Not knowing what lay back of the girl's reticence 
 when she failed to answer why their father had not 
 come with her, he turned and went downstairs. 
 
 "Come on, Melody," Chet begged. "Finish that 
 song." 
 
 But something too deep for words lay on the spirit 
 of the alkali poet. For once he failed to rise to the 
 occasion. 
 
 "What's up?" he asked Blaze. "That girl's 
 harder hit than that wound of the kid's should cause 
 her to be. I couldn't stand it." 
 
 1 ' That explains it ! " Melody exclaimed when Blaze 
 finished telling him about the death of Old Ironsides. 
 "She was game to come here, thinkin' all the time 
 that a Double A bullet got her old man. I 'd give 
 my shirt to know who did get him." 
 
 Acklin came down and went to his office. As soon 
 
124 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 as the big man left them, Esteban begged his sister 
 to ask his father to forgive him for his disobedience. 
 
 He told of the fight. "Our crowd ran! Only 
 Romero and I stayed to the end. At least, father 
 knows I am not a coward/ 7 
 
 Mercedes turned away; her brother's reference to 
 their father filled her eyes with tears. 
 
 She glanced hurriedly at Esteban. 
 
 "You are going home with me," she asserted. "At 
 once!" 
 
 Through the open window she called to Melody and 
 Blaze. 
 
 "Will you tell the Senor," she said, "that I am 
 going to take my brother with me now?" 
 
 Melody was back in a minute. 
 
 "The Big Boss says he can't be taken out," he 
 reported in a crestfallen manner. 
 
 Esteban 's eyes flashed. Some of Mercedes's old fire 
 came back to her. 
 
 "What has he to do with it?" she demanded. "I 
 take him when I want to ! I will tell him so ! " 
 
 She found Acklin in his office. He greeted her, 
 seemingly, in a friendly spirit. 
 
 "Well, Mercedes," he remarked, "your brother is 
 cheerful enough. He '11 pull through." 
 
 "I want to take him home." 
 
 Acklin got out of his chair. 
 
 "Oh, no, not right away!" 
 
 "Yes, right away, Senor!" 
 
 A hard look came into the eyes of the feudal lord : 
 "You can't take him! Don't you know that if I 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 125 
 
 turned him over to the sheriff, he would go to the 
 pen for last night's work?" 
 
 Acklin came toward her; but she held her ground. 
 
 "He can't leave here until I say so," he exclaimed. 
 
 He made a movement to reach for her hand, but 
 something in her eyes held him back. 
 
 "I am not afraid!" Her voice was defiant. "If 
 my brother go to jail, you go, too. Not to jail, Senor; 
 to the hangman!" 
 
 "What are you getting at?" Acklin cried. 
 
 "You know very well what I am getting at, you 
 beast! My father was killed last night; shot dead; 
 while he was riding here!" 
 
 Acklin 's face blanched. 
 
 "Good God! Not dead?" 
 
 "You should know, Senor!" 
 
 "I had nothing to do with it, do you hear?" His 
 voice rose with a nasty threat. "I don't shoot from 
 ambush. ' ' 
 
 "You had more to gain by that shooting than any 
 one else! You have been afraid of my father. My 
 father wanted everything kept within the law. That 
 is why he was killed!" 
 
 The sound of their loud talking had reached Melody, 
 who had come downstairs on an alleged errand. 
 
 Mercedes saw him. ' ' Senor Acklin has changed his 
 mind," she stated. "Will you get my brother 
 ready?" 
 
 Melody looked at the Big Boss for confirmation of 
 this order. He nodded his head and, turning to his 
 own quarters, slammed the door behind him. 
 
126 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Blaze was sitting on the edge of Esteban's bed 
 'when Melody and Mercedes returned. He was as 
 downcast as the boy. Acklin's treatment of the girl 
 puzzled him. Was it possible. that she was the stake 
 the owner of the Double A was playing for ? Kildare 
 had noticed the Big Boss's appraisal of Old Iron- 
 sides 's daughter. Could it be construed into a motive 
 for killing her father? 
 
 If Blaze had been free to do as he pleased, he would 
 not have sat idly by. Life was losing its flavor. He 
 tried to throw off this mood. In responding to it, he 
 knew he was being swaj'ed by sentiment. And senti- 
 ment would defeat his ends. 
 
 Melody's smile had taken its accustomed place. 
 Blaze was quick to notice the change in him. 
 
 "The kid 's goin' home all right," the sorrel-topped 
 one informed him. 
 
 Esteban, forgetting his nurse's orders, sat up in 
 bed. 
 
 1 ' Maybe you could dress him, ' ' Melody went on, to 
 Blaze. "I '11 go down and see about a rig then." 
 
 So while Mercedes went to the window, Blaze got 
 her brother ready for the trip home. He called to 
 her when he had finished. And as Mercedes saw the 
 tender way in which he cared for Esteban, she re- 
 gretted her unkind words of that morning. 
 
 She wanted to show Blaze that she appreciated all 
 he had done. She came over and sat on the bed 
 beside her brother. 
 
 Kildare smiled at her. He had drawn up a chair 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 127 
 
 and was seated alongside of Esteban. Mercedes made 
 a brave attempt to smile back at him. Impulsively 
 she put her hand on his arm. 
 
 * * I thank you so much for all you have done for me, 
 Senor. You have been very kind to us. I hope you 
 will forgive those hot words of mine." 
 
 Blaze felt her hand tremble in his. The blood 
 mounted to his face. ' * I have n 't done anything, Miss 
 Mercedes," he replied with embarrassment. "That 
 is not as much as I 'd like to. And as for forgivin* 
 you, shucks! there isn't anything to forgive." 
 
 Esteban wondered just what the import of this talk 
 was. Had it anything to do with his conduct ? Time 
 after time, as he had lain there, he had asked himself 
 why Kildare had spared him. The man's kindness 
 was still as big a mystery as ever. 
 
 "I ought to ask your forgiveness, too," he said 
 sincerely. 
 
 1 ' You ? ' ' Mercedes caught a hint of mystery in her 
 brother's voice. She looked at Blaze. He got to his 
 feet. 
 
 "Better forget it," he mumbled. "Don't amount 
 to anything." 
 
 The implication was plain now. The girl knew she 
 was being excluded from something. 
 
 "What have you done?" she demanded of Esteban. 
 
 "He can thank me for the bullet he got in his 
 shoulder. I shot him last evening!" 
 
 "Was he the one that shot you?" Mercedes asked. 
 
 "No! I got hit when we came back later." 
 
128 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Blaze stuck his head out of the window, trying to 
 locate Melody, as Esteban told his sister what had 
 happened at the Chimney. 
 
 "His gun was against my ribs," he finished; "but 
 when he recognized me, he let me go." 
 
 "You tried to kill him! He did not shoot back? 
 Madre de Dios!" she cried. "And I called him a 
 spy!" 
 
 Blaze came toward her quickly as he heard her 
 little gasp. "What 's the matter?" he asked, looking 
 from one to the other. 
 
 "You make me seem ungrateful, Senor," Mercedes 
 said in a whisper, as she dabbed at her eyes with a 
 tiny handkerchief. "A spy! I must have been mad." 
 
 Her voice broke with a sob. Mercedes thought she 
 was beyond tears ; Blaze touched her hair softly. 
 
 "That 's all right, little girl. You folks don't owe 
 me anything. You were pretty excited when I met 
 you this morning your father and " 
 
 "Father?" Esteban 's face went white. Blaze 
 could have cut off his tongue for his slip. 
 
 "What 's that about father?" the boy demanded 
 again. "Has he been hurt killed? Did somebody 
 get him?" His voice rose to a scream as he tried to 
 get to his feet. 
 
 With a cry, Mercedes's head dropped to the edge 
 of the bed. In spite of Kildare's pleading, she broke 
 down and wept bitterly. A shadow crossed the boy's 
 face. He understood. This explained everything to 
 him. As Blaze watched the young Basque he seemed 
 to grow mature ; to be touched by the hand of time. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 129 
 
 "Pobre de mi padre!" he cried. His breath seemed 
 to stop. Murder came into his eyes. 
 
 Kildare turned to Mercedes. As Blaze did so, Este- 
 ban managed to get to his feet by clutching a bed- 
 post. Melody came in just then and caught the boy 
 as he tottered. 
 
 Esteban struggled to free himself from Melody's 
 arms. "Don't touch me!" he cried. "Damn the 
 Double A!" 
 
 They were all on their feet. Blaze tried to get 
 hold of the boy. The young Basque turned on him. 
 "That goes for you, too, Kildare. I don't want any 
 favors from any man that takes his bread from 
 Acklin." 
 
 Mercedes implored him to stop. "No!" he an- 
 swered her. ' ' Get me out of here right away. I don't 
 care if I die on the way; get me out of here!" 
 
 The boy was no match for Melody's strength. 
 Against his will he was forced down to the bed. 
 
 "For the love of Pete! "What 's the matter?" the 
 happy-go-lucky poet demanded. 
 
 "Matter? My father's been killed! Killed! 
 Some one in this outfit did it, too!" 
 
 "You don't think we would do a rotten thing like 
 that, do you?" Blaze asked sharply. 
 
 "I do!" Esteban glared back defiantly. "Cow- 
 men are always right," he mocked; "and sheep-men 
 are always wrong. Say, I 'm sick of that kind of talk. 
 Get me out of here!" 
 
 "Well, you can't go alone," Kildare answered, 
 "I '11 take you, if you '11 let me." 
 
130 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "Please," Mercedes begged. "Don't make another 
 scene. ' ' 
 
 "Anything to get away," replied Esteban. 
 
 "Guess I '11 have to drive him home," Melody 
 stated. 
 
 "How's that?" Blaze asked rather pointedly. 
 
 "When I drove up with the rig, Acklin called me 
 in and told me I should go. If you '11 give me a hand 
 we '11 get started." 
 
 Blaze saw them off. When they were gone he tried 
 to sleep, but as tired as he was, sleep would not come. 
 
 Overhead the sun hung in the sky, a copper-colored 
 ingot fresh from a furnace. Its heat waves blistered 
 the poplars and crept into the house. McDermot, the 
 filer, was sharpening tools in a shed in the yard. 
 Every time he put steel to the grindstone, the result- 
 ing screech sent a shiver through Kildare's body. 
 
 Charlie was hammering his supper-call on his an- 
 vil when Melody returned. Blaze came downstairs, 
 and they went in to eat together. 
 
 * ' You did n 't miss anything by not goin ', ' ' Melody 
 began. "The girl 's a whiz, as I 've always said; 
 but Esteban is a bad hombre. His sister stands the 
 gaff better than he does. Things are beginnin' to 
 look awful in the valley. The alfalfa is a sight ! The 
 Hancho 's just burnt brown." 
 
 With an angry clank of spur-chains, Cash strode 
 into the room. "Is this a tea-party?" he bellowed. 
 "Or are you fellows on a vacation? Snap it up! I 
 want you on that fence before the sun goes down." 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE day of Jose's funeral dawned bright and 
 clear. Little dust-clouds rose in a hundred 
 places from the desert roads, as the widely scattered 
 people from the Little Washoe country and the val- 
 leys north of the Humboldt gathered to do honor to 
 their murdered leader. 
 
 As they rode along in the cool of the early morning, 
 something sad, and deeper than the death of the man 
 they had made their leader could account for, sat 
 upon their faces. It was the horror of failure. In 
 all that long ride they saw nothing but burnt-up fields 
 and the unchanging sage. Less than a week had 
 passed since the precious water had been denied, but 
 already the desert was beginning to reclaim its own. 
 Here and there, amid the rattling husks and yellow 
 leaves of the once green corn and alfalfa, a newer, 
 darker green appeared. It marked the places where 
 the insidious grease-wood reared its tenacious head. 
 
 The men gritted their teeth ; the women stared va- 
 cantly. In the mind of each one of them was the same 
 grim question: had their saving, and suffering, and 
 toiling been in vain ? 
 
 Quite in contrast with them was the tall, thin man 
 hunched over the wheel of an outlandish contraption 
 that he called an automobile. But the alleged auto- 
 
 131 
 
132 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 mobile, for all its lack of paint and its unconcealed 
 vitals, was, like its owner, thoroughly efficient. The 
 man was Brand, coming all the way from Winne- 
 mucca. He clutched the wheel of the car as he 
 skidded over the soapstone patches in the road. 
 
 Brand had left Winnemucca before breakfast. 
 Mealtime, however, meant little in his existence. A 
 cigarette to take the edge off of his nerves was all the 
 nourishment he seemed to need. All his life he had 
 been so busy worrying about other folks that he never 
 had found time to worry about himself. He was in 
 politics ; but not of it. There is quite a difference. 
 
 The thirsty, restless cattle and the withered crops 
 might cause others to despair, but they only served 
 to stir the fighting blood in Brand. Acklin and he 
 had been potential enemies for so long that he viewed 
 this new move by the Double A with little or no sur- 
 prise. Jose's death, however, came as a shock. He 
 wondered about Acklin 's possible connection with the 
 killing. 
 
 The truth would not down, that the elimination of 
 the old Basque removed the greatest obstacle in the 
 ranchman's path. "Was it possible that, somewhere 
 among political wheels the Double A had always con- 
 trolled, the cogs were slipping? Or did old man 
 Acklin 's son begin to hear the rumbling of public 
 opinion, and doubt the security of his position? 
 
 The big interests had smiled when Brand and one 
 or two others first attacked them. But the whisper 
 had grown into a mighty roar, sufficient to reach even 
 to the stronghold where Adams and Acklin had held 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 133 
 
 forth for so many years. All over northern Nevada 
 the cry was being raised : the big ranches must go ! 
 
 Acklin was proving, at that moment, his keen in- 
 terest in Jose's passing. He was in his office, and 
 Morrow and Kildare were with him. The latter 's face 
 wore a sullen look. 
 
 Acklin was saying : ' ' People in general don 't know 
 you, Kildare. That 's why I want you to go. You 
 can drop in at the church, or mix in with the crowd 
 at the cemetery. " 
 
 Something in Kildare ? s eyes made the ranchman 
 add: "Not that I want you to do any spying. I just 
 want you to get the temper of that crowd. If they 've 
 had enough gun-play, all right. If not I want to 
 know it." 
 
 Blaze nodded his head a little and pulled his hat 
 lower over his eyes. He had been carefully scru- 
 tinizing a rifle that stood behind Acklin 's desk. He 
 reached over and picked it up and broke it open. It 
 was an almost new automatic. He threw a shell out 
 of the chamber. 
 
 "I reckon I 'd better take this," he murmured 
 offhandedly. * ' The old iron you gave me when I came 
 bucks about every second shot. This is a real rifle; 
 brand new, too. ' ' 
 
 "Only been fired a couple of times," Acklin 
 answered, rather proudly. "I J m going after bear 
 with it this fall if I can get away. I don't think 
 yon 'd better take it, though." 
 
 "No, don't take any gun," Cash drawled. "Ain't 
 you still got that hat trick if anybody jumps you?" 
 
134 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "That 's right, Kildare," Acklin went on. "I 'm 
 sending you because I particularly don't want a 
 fight. You had better get started." 
 
 Blaze had palmed one of the shells from Acklin 's 
 gun ; and he compared it, as soon as he got away, with 
 the one he had found on the rocks. There was no 
 question of their likeness. It was almost conclusive 
 proof of the man's guilt. In spite of this, however, 
 Kildare tried to find a loophole. But if the Big Boss 
 were not guilty, then who was? 
 
 A trail led from the creek toward the little ceme- 
 tery. A crowd was gathering there already. Dis- 
 mounting, he led his horse inside, as the procession 
 entered. 
 
 The Basques, bareheaded under the blazing sun, 
 murmured age-old Latin prayers for the repose of 
 their leader, as the body was lowered to its last resting- 
 place. Kildare took off his hat and whispered 
 ' * Amen ' ' in unison with the mourners. It was an un- 
 conscious, reverential touch ; a response to a tug at his 
 emotions that surprised him. 
 
 He saw Mercedes, with Basilio's hand in hers, 
 kneeling beside the grave as the earth was shoveled 
 on the coffin. It fell with a thud that found an echo 
 in his heart. Her unhappiness had become his own. 
 He wanted to take her away, to make her forget her 
 grief. As if in response to his penetrating gaze, she 
 turned and saw him. 
 
 Their eyes conveyed to each other an unspoken 
 message. Mercedes seemed to appeal dumbly to him 
 in her misery. Kildare stepped forward, but he 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 135 
 
 stopped almost immediately as he saw an expression 
 of intense fear creep over the girl's face. 
 
 Romero and Salvator had recognized the Double A 
 man. 
 
 They drew near, and still Blaze made no move. 
 Kent wondered why he did not draw. It dawned 
 on him then that his friend wore no guns. The three 
 of them saw the little man move toward them, rifle 
 held thigh-high. Romero had his six-gun ready for 
 action. 
 
 ''Drop that shootin '-iron quick!" Kent commanded. 
 
 It was said so quietly that not a whisper reached 
 those beside the grave. But Romero heard and 
 obeyed. Tuscarora was not fooling! Save for Mer- 
 cedes, no one in the crowd had been conscious of their 
 movements. 
 
 She saw Romero put away his gun, and realizing 
 that the crisis had passed bent her head and echoed 
 the final words of the Litany for the Dead. 
 
 The boys glared their hatred at Blaze. Tuscarora 
 had not endeared himself to them by his intervention, 
 either. The little man did not appear to mind. 
 
 "This ain't no time, and it ain't no place for such 
 goings on," Kent whipped out. 
 
 "Why does he come here?" Romero questioned 
 savagely. 
 
 "He 's a sneak for the Double A," Salvator choked. 
 
 Kildare's blood leaped. 
 
 "I '11 take that from no bosco!" he cried. 
 
 He used the cow-man's term of contempt for the 
 Basque, with a shade of emphasis that meant deadly 
 
136 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 insult. The word burned on his lips until it leaped 
 out to pay in kind for the insult offered by the hot- 
 headed boy. But it stopped midway on its passage. 
 The mourners had heard and were gathering about 
 them. Mercedes, with Basilio clutching at her dress, 
 stood between them. 
 
 "A bosco?" Romero questioned mockingly, as he 
 went for his gun. 
 
 "Yes, a bosco!" Salvator fumed, "a, greaser, only 
 more so, eh ? " 
 
 Mercedes caught Romero's arm. 
 
 "You see how he comes to this holy spot to insult 
 the dead and sneer at the living," Mercedes's uncle 
 cried in his native tongue. 
 
 Blaze, understanding only a word, caught the drift 
 of the accusation by the reflection of the contending- 
 emotions in the girl's eyes. 
 
 "I 'm sorry/' he told her. Rapidly and con- 
 vincingly he went on: "I came here to pay what 
 respect I might to your father, and " 
 
 "And yet you call us boscos?" 
 
 Mercedes's cheeks were red with shame. If he had 
 branded her with the word "nigger" he could not 
 have hurt her more. Her answer had been so low that 
 only Blaze had heard, yet Tuscarora caught the im- 
 port of it. 
 
 "Kildare was tending his own business," he stated 
 loud enough for all to hear. "These boys butted 
 in on him tried to jump him. We won't have any 
 rumpus. ' ' 
 
 "Oh, it doesn't matter." Mercedes's voice was 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 137 
 
 tired. Her head seemed too great a weight for her 
 slender neck to bear. ' ' Our ways lie far apart, ' ' she 
 went on, a note of despair creeping into her words 
 that stabbed Kildare. "We are boscos. We won't 
 forget again!" 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 LONG after the mourners had dispersed, Kildare 
 and Tuscarora sat in their saddles at the gate of 
 the cemetery. The gloom that had settled on Blaze 
 found expression in his taciturnity. He had always 
 come up smiling under the punishment and hardships 
 of the man- world in which he lived. Life had a habit 
 of buffeting and slamming him down, even as the sea 
 does with her chosen ones. But like the sea, life here 
 in the big West was strong and clean. It could whis- 
 per little songs to you; it could thrill you; and it 
 always left you ready to face to-morrow. That was 
 the great compensation. 
 
 But there was an ache in his heart now that he 
 was helpless to combat; it was something new. His 
 eyes followed Mercedes until she was out of sight. 
 
 Kent surmised what was going on in his friend's 
 mind. 
 
 "Well, you never can tell about women/' he said 
 wisely. "She 's only a girl yet; quien sabe; who 
 knows ? I caught that look in her eyes when she saw 
 you were here." He turned and faced Kildare. 
 "Blaze, I 'd like to think you were watching out for 
 her a bit." 
 
 The face of the Double A man relaxed. In tones 
 138 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 139 
 
 that hinted that his thoughts were far away he re- 
 plied : "If anybody hurts her, I 'm going to be pretty 
 well annoyed. " 
 
 Tuscarora had swung his horse around, and was 
 staring intently at the rise back of the cemetery down 
 which Blaze had come. Kildare saw immediately the 
 cause of the little man's interest. Silhouetted against 
 the sky were six horsemen. As the two of them 
 watched, the riders separated. One went north, and 
 the others dashed away to the east. 
 
 Kent whirled on Blaze. "Is that your bunch?" he 
 demanded. 
 
 "I came alone," the Double A man shot back, quick 
 to realize the insinuation. "I think I recognize the 
 "big fellow ahead!" 
 
 "Yeh?" 
 
 "Bodine! Let's find out what they Ve got on 
 their mind!" 
 
 "You said it, son. I don't fancy this Mr. Bodine 
 even a little bit." 
 
 To avoid seeming to trail the mysterious riders, 
 Blaze and Kent chose rather to intercept them by 
 following the road Mercedes had taken. She and 
 Basilic had left with old Peter, the head of the Bengoa 
 clan of Kings River. The gray-haired Basque was an 
 uncle to them by marriage. For all his years, he was 
 still hearty, and he sent his team along at a good 
 clip. So, although Blaze and Kent hurried, they 
 caught no sight of the rig until they saw it top a 
 wide, shallow draw a mile or more ahead of them. 
 They lost sight of the team almost instantly, how- 
 
140 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 ever, as Peter sent his horses down-grade into the 
 succeeding draw. 
 
 The way to the Rancho branched off in this wide, 
 flat bottom, and the little party quickly drew away 
 from the main road. But even as rapidly as they had 
 traveled, the horsemen Tuscarora had seen were 
 swifter. Rounding a bend in the road old Peter drove 
 right into them. With a distinct sense of alarm, the 
 girl recognized Bodine. The men with him were little 
 calculated to restore her composure. As her uncle- 
 quieted his team, the smiling Buck approached the 
 rig. 
 
 He spoke to Peter, but the old Basque had a knack 
 of not understanding English when he chose. This 
 was one of the times. He knew Bodine by sight, and 
 he heartily disliked him. Buck was not abashed, 
 however. He transferred his attention to Mercedes. 
 
 Hot anger flashed in her brown eyes as he grinned 
 at her. 
 
 "Don't go lookin' at me that way, Senorita," he 
 pleaded with a clumsy attempt at being playful. 
 * ' My friends '11 think you have the down on me. ' ' 
 
 Mercedes grew pale as Bodine 's men eyed her ap- 
 provingly. 
 
 "We 're all goin' to be neighbors. The boys have 
 taken up those spare quarter-sections beyond my 
 place. No use lettin' good water go to waste in that 
 sink." 
 
 Mercedes had not spoken, unless the flash of her 
 eyes from man to man might be interpreted as Ian* 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 141 
 
 guage. She scanned the horizon nervously. To the 
 south the desert stretched interminably. Eastward, 
 the Santa Rosa Range lifted its brooding peaks. Far 
 to the northwest the tip of Cleopatra's Needle pierced 
 the sky. Save for the low huddle of buildings to the 
 northeast that marked her home, no sign of human 
 habitation rested the eye. 
 
 Uncle Peter had almost enough of Bodine 's in- 
 solence. All of the men on horseback looked to him 
 as if they had been drinking. The old Basque was. 
 apprehensive of staying where there was danger for 
 his nephew and niece. He spoke rapidly to Mercedes 
 in Spanish. She nodded her head in reply. 
 
 * ' My uncle says he has a long way to go. "We can- 
 not stay here. If you be so kind, Senor, we drive 
 on." 
 
 Bodine had no intention of letting them go. He 
 knew they were frightened, and he reveled in it. 
 
 "You 're goin' to be mighty lonesome in that big^ 
 casa your daddy gone; Esteban all banged up. 
 You 'd better come over and see our lay-out. You 'd 
 never know the old place." 
 
 Mercedes stared at Bodine until some of his swagger 
 left him. Basilio, squirming beside his sister, was. 
 nervous and anxious to go on. 
 
 "I want to go home," he cried. "When are we 
 going to start?" 
 
 Bodine reached down to pick him up, but the little 
 fellow divined his intention. He scurried into his 
 Bister's arms. Bodine waved his men back. His own 
 
142 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 horse was so close to the rig that he had his foot 
 resting on the body of the blackboard. He bent down 
 confidentially. 
 
 "I lost my head a bit the last time I was at the 
 hacienda. I was as blind as the kid here, I guess. 
 And I 'm sorry for what I said j though I ain 't sorry 
 I kissed you!" 
 
 He felt, rather than saw, Mercedes wince. 
 
 "I learnt somethin' that night, though. I 'm a 
 peaceable man from now on. There 's been trouble 
 enough. I 'm for the law strong. That 's why I 
 want you to come over on the Webster. I aim to keep 
 inside the law, and I want to prove it to you. I got 
 an injunction yesterday morning in Winnemucca 
 that '11 keep anybody from touching that creek for 
 thirty days. Seein' is believin'. I want to show it 
 to you." 
 
 Uncle Peter cursed beneath his breath. Mercedes's 
 eyes snapped. She whispered to the old man to start 
 his horses, and with an angry glare she turned on 
 Bodine. 
 
 "You waste your time," she said defiantly. "I do 
 not care what you have, or what you say. I know, I 
 do not go with you." 
 
 "Oh, yes, you will, Senorita," he smiled. "We 
 ain't startin' no argument we can't finish. Now you 
 turn that team around, old graybeard!" he bawled 
 at Uncle Peter. 
 
 Peter paid no attention to him, and Bodine sent 
 his mount alongside the team and caught at their 
 bridles. His men hurried to help him. Mercedes 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 143 
 
 stood up and pulled on the reins. Even if this talk of 
 legal matters was not a ruse to get her to his ranch, 
 she shuddered at the thought of what would happen 
 to her once he had her there and any possible business 
 was finished. Buck 's lustful eyes ill concealed his real 
 purpose. 
 
 Blaze and Tuscarora crested the rise at that instant 
 and rode rapidly down the draw. They saw the frac- 
 tious, panicky team with the horsemen trying to turn 
 them; Uncle Peter whirling his whip; Mercedes 
 standing stiff-legged in the tottering wagon, with the 
 child tugging at her. It needed no explanation. 
 
 "Something stirring, all right/' Kent called to 
 Blaze. "Better take this gun. I got my rifle." 
 
 They were within a hundred yards of the rig before 
 Bodine discovered them. He flashed a venomous 
 look at Mercedes. 
 
 "You better lie pretty when these hombres get up 
 here, or there '11 be hell a-poppin', and don't you 
 forget it." 
 
 To add to the confusion of the team, the extended 
 clamor had sent a coyote out of his covert in the 
 greasewood at the roadside. The horses scented him 
 immediately and reared up. As the marauder darted 
 away, Blaze and Kent pulled their mounts to & stop. 
 
 Tuscarora saw the coyote and fired at him. Quite 
 by accident or was it otherwise? the little man had 
 Bodine and his men covered. 
 
 "What 's the big excite?" Blaze demanded in steely 
 tones. 
 
 Bodine carried the memory of that question and of 
 
144 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Kildare 's look for a good many days. They smelled 
 of death. 
 
 Basilio had recognized Kildare. "I want to go 
 tome, Mr. Blaze!" he cried. 
 
 It snapped the tension. 
 
 "It 's home for you, little chief." 
 
 Mercedes bit her lip as she saw Kildare lift the 
 blind boy to his horse's back. Why did this man 
 alternately hurt and befriend her? She became con- 
 scious of the gradual swing of his horse to a position 
 protecting her from the sinister look of Bodine 's com- 
 panions. Tuscarora's carelessly held rifle did not 
 escape her, nor did it escape the attention of Gloomy. 
 
 " Ain't you afraid that there gun might go off, 
 you?" 
 
 "My name 's Kent and it might," the lover of 
 peace drawled. It brought a laugh from Bodine. 
 
 "By the way," Joe went on, addressing the 
 rancher, "don't you get to thinkin' we 're licked be- 
 cause old Jose is gone. I aim to string along for quite 
 some little while yet. I got a date to talk to the law 
 right now." 
 
 "You 're slow!" Bodine grinned nastily. "I had 
 my talk with the law yesterday. There won't any- 
 body touch that creek for thirty days at least. I '11 
 see that my injunction is renewed, too." 
 
 Kent concealed his chagrin with a cackling laugh. 
 But Bodine knew he had given his foe a jolt. 
 
 ' ' Let 's hit dirt, ' ' he shouted to his men. He waved 
 his hand at them airily, as he and his followers pulled 
 away. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 145 
 
 Tuscarora shook his head. "He sure put one over 
 on the old man that time," he murmured. "That 's 
 what he wanted to show you, eh that injunction? 
 Brand is waiting for me down at the hotel. I '11 burn 
 it back to town. You go along to the Rancho." 
 
 Basilio hugged Blaze tightly as Kent uttered this; 
 dictum. Kildare looked at Mercedes for his answer. 
 Their eyes met momentarily. A low, dull red burned 
 in the girl's cheeks. Something she saw in Kildare 'a 
 expression made her lips part. For a brief instant 
 Blaze caught sight of her gleaming teeth. The hint 
 of a smile remained as she turned her head away. 
 
 "Maybe it is best you come along," she murmured. 
 "If if the Sefior Acklin does not mind your taking 1 
 care of the poor boscos." 
 
 Mercedes thoroughly enjoyed the twinge her cor- 
 dially enunciated phrase caused Blaze. He wondered, 
 if she would ever forget the word he had used. 
 
 Tuscarora chuckled to himself as he raced to- 
 Paradise. "Gosh!" he said, "don't she say the 
 cutest things?" 
 
 Blaze trailed Uncle Peter's buckboard. Several 
 times during the ride, Kildare had tried to inveigle 
 Mercedes into conversation, but she sat unbending, 
 her eyes fixed on the road ahead, when they were not 
 roaming over the desolate fields. 
 
 They passed a dead calf just before they drove up 
 to the house. The little fellow had been the first to 
 succumb to the great thirst. Both the man and the 
 girl realized that many more would be left behind by 
 
 their crazed mothers to share a like fate. 
 
146 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Mercedes shook her head sadly. 
 
 "Oh, if we could only prove that shovels and not 
 the storms had robbed us of our water. " There was 
 no bitterness in her tone. She seemed to be speaking 
 more to the distant Santa Rosas than to Blaze. ' ' No, ' ' 
 she went on, "storms never do this! It is Senor 
 Acklin, and his devil-dog Bodine. They want to drive 
 us away." 
 
 In her mind was the memory of Acklin 's advances, 
 and the history of many peaceful ranchers and sheep- 
 men who had been driven to poverty and exile by the 
 predatory water-lord, who took the place on the desert 
 of the feudal baron of bygone days. 
 
 " 'The night the eagle is brought to earth, the eaglet 
 takes wing/ Our people always say that." 
 
 She turned to Blaze. He had heard every word. 
 
 ' ' I am the eaglet ! ' ' There was a convincing even- 
 ness to her voice. "Senor Acklin will not drive me 
 away. He will find that a bosco can fight." 
 
 Kildare's jaws clinched as she branded herself with 
 the hated term. 
 
 "I don't suppose you '11 ever forget I used that 
 word," he said spiritedly. 
 
 Mercedes answered by asking: 
 
 1 ' Does Senor Acklin do no wrong in your eyes ? ' ' 
 
 Here was the old question again. Blaze felt her 
 insinuation. 
 
 "I 'ma Double A man, but I don't inherit Acklin '& 
 quarrels. What he does, he '11 have to answer for. 
 I aim to answer for what I do. That 's the law of 
 the country in which I was raised. A man belongs 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 147 
 
 to the outfit lie belongs to, or he 's just a maverick, 
 unbranded. " 
 
 Peter pulled up his horses at the patio gate. The 
 cow-boy held out his arm to help the girl down. As 
 her fingers closed about Kildare 's strong, sun-browned 
 wrist and Mercedes felt the strength of the arm that 
 lowered her as though she was no weight at all, an 
 eager desire to be caressed by it almost overcame the 
 perverse but strangely womanly streak that kept her 
 provokingly antagonistic to the man. Even so, her 
 hands did not relax their grip as she reached the 
 ground and looked up at him. 
 
 "You may wear the brand of Sefior Acklin; it may 
 please you to do so. ' ' Her words carried her father 's 
 dignity. There was little of anger and much of regret 
 that what she said should be so, in her tone. Blaze 
 thought he had never seen her so beautiful. ' ' It may 
 please you to help him take from us everything we 
 have work so hard for ; to see our stock die for want 
 of a drink, to make our fields wither like that. ' ' She 
 drew her hands away and pointed to the brown al- 
 falfa. There was a tear in her eye when she glanced 
 back at Blaze. "But if you do so because it is the 
 law of your country, then it is a very, very bad law." 
 
 The desire for speech had never been greater in 
 Kildare than at this moment, but words failed to serve 
 him. Had her voice not implied an acceptance of his 
 friendship in spite of his connection with Acklin? 
 She was gone before he recovered the use of his 
 tongue. 
 
 Basilio waved his tiny hand as Blaze walked My 
 
148 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Man down past the corrals. Mariano, the mozo, 
 lounged against the barn. He took off his hat to 
 Kildare. 
 
 "Bad times, these, for the Buena Vista/' Blaze said 
 to him. 
 
 "Madre de Dios, but yes! Don Jose dead; Este- 
 t>an shot ; the hot winds on the fields ; and the devil- 
 men of the north!" He shook his head hopelessly. 
 "All veree bad for the Senorita," 
 
 * ' The ' devil-men of the north ' may come here some 
 night, eh?" 
 
 "Maybe, Senor, they come some night." 
 
 "Henaro and the other vaqueros are not here any 
 longer ; you are all alone on the Rancho, now, eh ? " 
 
 "Si, Senor." Mariano wagged his head gravely. 
 ""No work for vaqueros any more." 
 
 Blaze had guessed as much. Bodine would not fail 
 to take advantage of this, once he learned that only 
 the old servant stood between the girl and himself, 
 * l What would you do, if the * devil-men ' came ? ' ' Blaze 
 asked apprehensively. 
 
 "At night the gate ees shut, Senor. I sleep outside 
 the Senorita's door." 
 
 * ' Good ! Here is a little present for you, Mariano. ' ' 
 Kildare took the six-gun Tuscarora had lent him from 
 his holster, and handed it to the old man. The serv- 
 ant 's dark eyes^ fairly glistened. He had long since 
 despaired of ever rising to the dignity of possessing a 
 gun of his own. 
 
 "For me, Senor?" he asked breathlessly. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 149 
 
 "It 's for you, if you always keep it on you when 
 you sleep outside her door." 
 
 1 ' Santa Maria ! It ees a beautiful gun ! I will keep 
 heem with me all the time, Seiior." 
 
 Unaware of the anxious, wistful face that followed 
 him from the safety of a curtained window, Blaze 
 rode into the north. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 ABROAD grin spread over the face of the Big 
 Boss when Kildare told him of Bodine 's injunc- 
 tion. Kildare wondered just what amused him so 
 much. 
 
 Morrow hailed Blaze as he came out. To-morrow 
 was the Fourth of July. 
 
 ' ' Suppose you 're goin ' down to Golconda with the 
 boys," he grumbled. Cash's tone showed plainly 
 enough his lack of pleasure in the coming day. 
 
 Kildare shook his head. A dance, in his present 
 frame of mind, held no lure for him. He sprawled 
 on his bed, smoking many cigarettes, listening to the 
 wit, both near and alleged, being voiced around him; 
 but thoughts of the lonely girl in the deserted haci- 
 enda kept intruding and finally drove him outside 
 where he could be alone. 
 
 He saw Cash wearing a worried appearance and 
 wondered if the foreman's anxiety was not well 
 founded. If the Basques knew that most of the 
 Double A men were away on the holiday, wouldn't 
 they be tempted to strike again? Bodine 's move- 
 ments were an even more interesting speculation. 
 There was no doubt in Kildare 's mind that the man 
 would try to get possession of the girl. 
 
 By supper-time the specter of Bodine had become 
 150 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 151 
 
 so menacing that he decided to ride down to the 
 Rancho. He waited until the boys had left and then 
 silently followed them. 
 
 Dawn had found him lying sleepy-eyed on the little 
 mesa that rose back of the hacienda. He had had his 
 vigil for nothing. Since sun-up he had slept ; but he 
 was stiff and sore from the lack of a blanket. He 
 had noticed a stirring in the patio from his perch on 
 the mesa. It was after seven when he rode by the 
 hacienda. 
 
 He saw a table set with white napery, thin glasses, 
 heavy silver, and delicate, cream-colored porcelain. 
 Daintiness, cleanliness, ancestry all spoke there. The 
 jaunty insouciance of the table on the veranda seemed 
 to relieve the dirge the wind played as it swept across 
 the brown fields and through the dead flowers. It 
 seemed to token a determination to meet misfortune 
 with a smile ; to go down with the colors nailed to the 
 mast. 
 
 My Man whinnied. Basilio heard him and jumped 
 down from the wide portico. 
 
 "I know you be here to-day, Mr. Blaze, " he called 
 as he ran towards Kildare. "I tell Mercedes you 
 come this morning. " 
 
 The cow-boy smiled down at him. 
 
 "You didn't tell her I 'd be here for breakfast, 
 did you?" 
 
 Mercedes came out of the house at that moment. 
 Blaze greeted her with a cheery "Good morning." 
 
 She gave no sign of having heard him. Kildare 
 kept his eyes on her set, uncompromising profile, as 
 
'152 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 she stared fixedly at the dry stalks that were the 
 remnants of her garden. 
 
 "Why you sleep out there all night ?" she asked 
 at last, not ungently. 
 
 The directness of this unexpected question rather 
 upset him. 
 
 "I sleep ... all night? . . . Where?" "he stam- 
 mered. 
 
 Basilio gave him his answer. 
 
 "I hear My Man single-foot along the road last 
 night. He stopped by the fence. I told you so, 
 didn't I?" 
 
 "Ain't no use lying about it," Blaze said rather 
 shamefacedly. "I figured Bodine might try to pay 
 you a visit. I knew you were all alone here." He 
 stopped momentarily. "Did n't see anything of him, 
 though." 
 
 Mariano came out with the coffee. Mercedes turned 
 to him. 
 
 "Serve the Senor at once, Mariano," she ordered. 
 "He has a long way to go." 
 
 "Si, si." 
 
 "Won't you sit down?" she coldly urged the 
 Double A man. 
 
 "That 's not the way I want you to ask me, Miss 
 Mercedes," Blaze answered without moving. 
 
 "A guest may always make requests that become 
 commands!" she quoted. 
 
 A new look came into Kildare's eyes. His face <was 
 grave. He was about to speak when Mercedes 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 153 
 
 motioned to the servant. The old mozo hastened to 
 her side. 
 
 "Senor Kildare thanks you for caring for his re- 
 volver, " she began. "He wishes you to return it." 
 
 "Now look here," Blaze cut in hastily, his cheeks 
 red. 
 
 "Give the gun back at once, Mariano." 
 
 The old man lifted a mournful face to hers as he 
 pulled the revolver from his pocket. Silently but 
 dramatically he besought her to let him keep it. It 
 had been too good to be true. He darted a glance at 
 Kildare. Why did these gringos always change their 
 minds ? 
 
 "You may thank the Senor for what the Americans 
 call the tip." 
 
 "It wasn't any tip at all," Blaze asserted. "I 
 didn't want you to be unprotected." 
 
 "He say he geeve it to me, because I sleep outside 
 your door, ' ' Mariano protested. * ' Now I got to geeve 
 heem back. People geeve, then take away; no won- 
 der old Mariano never got nothing." 
 
 He put the gun on the table. 
 
 "The next time you talk to strangers about the 
 affairs of the hacienda, I shall send you down to 
 Paradise to work in the wool warehouse." 
 
 That possibility held no allurement, judging by the 
 haste with which the mozo sped off for Kildare 's 
 breakfast. 
 
 Basilio had caught the seriousness of the conver- 
 sation. It kept him silent, though several times he 
 
154 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 tagged at his sister's skirts as if to catch her atten- 
 tion. Mercedes was. so engrossed she paid no heed 
 to the boy until Acklin rode into the patio. 
 
 "I wanted to tell you some one was coming, " the 
 sensitive child whispered in the natural lull of sur- 
 prise, following the appearance of the Big Boss of 
 the Double A. 
 
 Mercedes flashed a quick glance from Acklin to 
 Blaze, who held his position near the table. His face 
 was emotionless. Had he known the rancher was 
 coming ? Only by the slightest inclination of her head 
 did she acknowledge the cattle-man's greeting. 
 
 "Sorry I couldn't get down to your father's 
 funeral,'' he said. 
 
 The lie did not pass Mercedes. 
 
 "Your man do very well in your place/' she an- 
 swered. 
 
 There was the faintest lifting of the corner of her 
 scornful red lips. The implied accusation touched 
 Kildare. 
 
 "You find him a very good man, I guess," she 
 continued incisively. "Ready to do what he is told." 
 
 Acklin looked from Blaze to her, and back again. 
 The little by-play that her words carried was beyond 
 him. He saw in Blaze only a cow-puncher, a spender, 
 a working man. In the chatelaine of the Rancho 
 Buena Vista he saw each time he encountered her 
 he saw something different; at all times the feeling 
 came over him that here was an unconquerable thing 
 something he had to humble. 
 
 "Better drift to the Bull's Head," he said to Blaze. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 155 
 
 It was lightly purred, but carried with it the dis- 
 missal of the man on the veranda. 
 
 Acklin followed him to where My Man stood. Kil- 
 dare's stock had taken a decided drop in his mental 
 ledger. 
 
 * ' What kept you down here ? ' ' he asked, when they 
 were out of hearing of the girl on the veranda. 
 
 Kildare's imagination was equal to the occasion. 
 
 "The boys were seen when they went out," he 
 drawled. "I ran into Bodine and six or seven of 
 his men. He didn't have a good excuse for being 
 where he was, so I hung around to keep my eye on 
 him." Blaze jabbed his thumb in the direction of 
 Mercedes. "I didn't tell her." 
 
 Acklin began to readjust his notes again, as far as 
 Kildare was concerned. 
 
 "Course I know you 're strong for Bodine," Blaze 
 continued, "but " 
 
 The Big Boss stopped him abruptly. 
 
 "The Double A is strong for the Double A," he 
 asserted meaningly. "Bodine will bear watching." 
 He unbent enough to add, "You tell the Chink that 
 I said you were to have breakfast." 
 
 Acklin was sipping the coffee that had been set out 
 for his hired hand, as Blaze looked back in answer 
 to Basilio's call. The cow-boy wondered how big a 
 part the humbling of the proud little chatelaine of the 
 Buena Yista played in the Big Boss's determination 
 to go through with his move against the people of the 
 valley. From that to the elimination of Old Iron- 
 sides by the long-range automatic that stood in the 
 
156 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 office at the Bull's Head was only a step. But it was 
 a conclusive one. Possibly a twinge of jealousy urged 
 him to accept that explanation of Jose's murder. 
 Still the death of the old man gave Acklin a free 
 hand with the girl. 
 
 Why should he care? he asked himself, still smart- 
 ing from the scornful manner in which she had re- 
 proved him for his attempt to protect her. He told 
 himself he had been right that first day he had met 
 her down on the river. Who was he ; or what did he 
 have to offer, that would make her ever look with favor 
 on him? He began to hate himself for the fool he 
 had been. Kildare's pride was hurt, and it was a 
 new experience for him. 
 
 If Blaze could have been back on the veranda at 
 the Rancho, he would have found some degree of 
 comfort in the reception accorded Acklin. 
 
 The complacency with which the Big Boss took 
 possession of the chair at the head of the table sat 
 rather well on his broad person. That it failed to 
 fire Mercedes to a wrathful explosion may be put 
 down to her father's old-fashioned Basque training 
 of her, which forbade a display of temper toward one 
 who broke bread under their roof. 
 
 "Sit down, Mercedes," Acklin suggested quietly 
 after he had watched her for a few seconds. ' 1 1 want 
 to talk to you." 
 
 " 'Those who taste of our salt may have our serv- 
 ice on our knees.' ' 
 
 She repeated this age-old tradition, handed down 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 157 
 
 from the Mohammedan invasion of the Iberian Penin- 
 sula, with a dignity that even Acklin felt. 
 
 ' ' Oh, come now, ' ' Acklin interrupted. ' ' Stop hand- 
 ing me that old stuff. You Ye living in America. 
 Sit down and eat." 
 
 "What you going to do?" the girl asked without 
 moving. 
 
 He studied her before he answered. 
 
 "I 'm going to sit here and listen to you. I like 
 your voice when you talk, or when you sing." 
 
 "I mean what you going to do about the water? 
 Our cattle are dying." 
 
 "Now I 'm right sorry to hear that," he smiled, 
 his pale gray eyes becoming absolutely colorless. 
 
 "I wonder how sorry you be?" she asked. 
 
 "How sorry would you want me to be?" 
 
 There was a playfulness, clumsy as it might be, in 
 his manner, that put the woman lately born in Mer- 
 cedes on guard. 
 
 1 ' I want you to be sorry enough to make that Senor 
 Bodine turn the water of Rebel Creek back where it 
 belong!" 
 
 Acklin 's complacency increased. He showed his 
 teeth in a wider smile than ever. 
 
 "Dios! What a beauty you are, Mercedes, with 
 that fire in your eyes!" 
 
 "You have help that devil-dog, Senor! You wait 
 and see how he pay you back for your friendship." 
 
 "I'm waiting, Senorita; and I don't think he '11 
 keep me in suspense much longer.- 
 
158 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 The Big Boss leaned toward her, his arms spread 
 across the table. 
 
 "But I won't miss his friendship; not if I have 
 yours, querida." 
 
 Acklin's bantering was slowly but surely wearing 
 her down. She felt as if a hand were at her throat. 
 
 "Oh, stop!" she cried in desperation. "You are 
 like a wolf-hound with a bone. You get a thing in 
 your teeth, and you hang on and on -and never give 
 up. You think you crush everything before you 
 with your money, your power. Bah!" Mercedes 
 got to her feet. The rancher fell back before the fire 
 in her eyes. 
 
 ' ' Your power, ' ' she mocked. ' ' You make your men 
 do things you would not dare to do yourself. Like 
 this man you send away now. You make him a spy, 
 a listener, what you call eavesdropper ; you try to kill 
 everything that is good in him. And yet he serve you 
 well." 
 
 There were tears in her eyes. Acklin no longer 
 held his detached, half-amused attitude. 
 
 "Look here, Mercedes, what 's that cow-punch got 
 to do with our little tete-a-tete?" 
 
 There was too much of Kildare in this conversation 
 to suit him. 
 
 ' ' Oh, you buy him ! You bribe him ! You try to 
 make him so low that even a bosco would hate him." 
 
 She used the word with that nice shading of con- 
 tempt Acklin could appreciate. 
 
 "What the devil ," he began, as he got up j but he 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 159 
 
 did not finish his sentence. He was alone. Mercedes 
 had caught up Basilio and entered the house. 
 
 Acklin tried the door. It was locked. He looked 
 around. Mariano sat hunched against a pillar of the 
 veranda. 
 
 ' * Which way did she go ? " he demanded angrily. 
 
 He got no answer. Crossing the portico he dug his 
 toe into the old man's side. The mozo sagged over, 
 his head falling on his breast as he slept. Acklin 
 dropped the hot ashes of his cigar down the man's 
 neck. Mariano jumped with a yell. 
 
 "Huy! Fuego!" he cried. "Caramba!" The 
 old servant slapped at the back of his neck in panic. 
 He had not been so wide awake in years. 
 
 "Get my horse!" the Big Boss thundered. 
 
 So Acklin followed his hired man back to the Bull 's 
 Head. Their departing moods permitted of no choice. 
 The eaglet had scratched them both. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 ACKLIN locked himself in his office on his return 
 from the Rancho. Kildare's concern for Mer- 
 cedes had annoyed him. But with characteristic de- 
 cision, he determined to find other and equally profit- 
 able employment for Blaze that would make the cow- 
 boy's visits to the Rancho a thing- of the past. 
 
 But the business that had held the big cattle-man 
 in his office until midnight, and which kept him com- 
 pany on Monday morning, was in no way connected 
 with Kildare. The ingenious Mr. Bodine and his 
 injunction were at the bottom of Acklin's cogitation. 
 
 Very much as a general does, the Big Boss mentally 
 marshaled his forces for the move he planned. Every 
 political and financial outpost came up for his inspec- 
 tion. And the more he studied and figured, the more 
 certain he became that the time to begin realizing the 
 dream of his life had arrived. 
 
 The conviction grew as the hours passed. His 
 smile famed into a grin that stripped his teeth, as he 
 contemplated the position of the patronizing Buck. 
 Acklin recalled a cartoon of a farmer ready to cut 
 down a limb on the end of which a bob-cat had taken 
 refuge. It fitted the present occasion admirably. 
 
 The Big Boss had his saw in hand, and if Bodine 
 could have .seen the unholy glee with which the cattle- 
 
 160 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 161 
 
 man looked forward to dropping him into space, he 
 would have lost some of his offensive swagger. 
 
 Morrow rode up to the Bull's Head about three 
 o'clock in a fine frenzy. He slid from his horse and 
 hammered on the office door. 
 
 " Somebody 's running an iron on our stuff over in 
 the Buttes ! " he burst out. ' ' They 're overbranding 
 us and drivin' 'em out. I was up to the Needle this 
 noon, seein' what we 'd have to do to that old road 
 if we wanted to use it to haul rock. I got a sight of 
 the hombres from there. Them steers are hog-fat over 
 in the Buttes: they 're ready for the fall shippin' 
 right now." 
 
 "How many men did you see?" 
 
 " 'Bout four maybe five. Headin' southwest. 
 They 'd have to go up in the air to get out any other 
 way." 
 
 Acklin uncrossed his legs lazily. 
 
 ' ' Guess we '11 put a stop to that in a hurry. Better 
 send a couple of the boys over there to dry-camp. ' ' 
 
 "And Kildare the only sober one in the bunch," 
 the foreman muttered scornfully. 
 
 The Big Boss contracted his eyes. 
 
 "Send him," he ordered. "He 's been spotted by 
 the Basques by now, Cash. I reckon he won't come 
 back until he 's got his men. Let Melody go along." 
 
 Morrow started out, when Acklin called him back. 
 
 "About that rock," he began. "We 're going to 
 need it." 
 
 The foreman's mouth opened in surprise. 
 
 "What?" he cried. "We 're goin' to " 
 
162 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 11 Build our dam." 
 
 Cash, flopped into a chair in actual physical weak- 
 ness. For ten years this dam had been held out to 
 Mm until it had become a huge, elusive, Gargantuan 
 myth. It meant the end of the Double A's water 
 fights; the doing away with that mad hunt for grass 
 in the dry years. Water meant alfalfa, and alfalfa 
 meant hay. With water, grass, and hay in abundance, 
 Cash looked forward to a life of ease. He stared at 
 Acklin for a full minute, dumb with the realization 
 that he was face to face at last with the chimera that 
 had haunted him so long. 
 
 "When do we begin ?" he finally asked in an awed 
 voice. 
 
 "To-day. I 'm going to town to-night to get the 
 stuff started on its way. I 'phoned to Gallagher in 
 Reno to meet me to-morrow morning in Winnemucca 
 and to bring a rigger along. I '11 have the cable and 
 powder and concrete moving by noon to-morrow. You 
 get that road to the Needle fixed up. Tell Mac to get 
 the donkey-engine in shape. Haul her up to Martin 
 Canon as soon as he 's ready. You know the spot." 
 
 Cash got up to go. A smile had begun to dawn on 
 his lips. He had remembered Bodine. He glanced 
 at Acklin. A grin that held something of the play- 
 fulness of the tiger wreathed the face of the Big Boss. 
 Each knew what the other was thinking. 
 
 The loud laughter that rang in Melody's ears as 
 that unhappy individual, much the worse from his 
 trip to Golconda, rode by the office, made him wonder 
 if he wasn't as drunk as Cash had asserted after all. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 163 
 
 "What? Acklin laugh?" he mumbled to himself. 
 "Hell's fire! They must 'a 7 discovered oil on this 
 damn ranch." 
 
 Half an hour later he was still grumbling as Widget 
 doled out the pots and pans and bacon to Blaze and 
 him. An early supper, and they were on their way. 
 
 Kildare was glad of the chance to be on his own. 
 Ranging through the Buttes would give him an oppor- 
 tunity to reconnoiter the mysterious house on Webster 
 Creek without being seen. He had not forgotten his 
 visit there, nor the man who had tried to pot him in 
 the back. Aside from any thought of that person, if 
 danger threatened Mercedes, it would originate at 
 Bodine's ranch. 
 
 Thought of her kept him silent for a while. He 
 could not help but wonder what the future held for 
 the brave girl. His own injured feelings no longer 
 rankled in his breast. She had been right, he told 
 himself, in refusing to accept his ill-advised protec- 
 tion. Blaze consoled himself with the knowledge that 
 Esteban would be up by the following day, and able 
 to look after her. 
 
 A glance at Melody showed that weary man sway- 
 ing from side to side as if he slept. But he managed 
 to keep one eye half open as he rode along. 
 
 "Guess a bed would look mighty good to you, right 
 this minute," Blaze laughed. 
 
 "Took you a sight of time to cook up that observa- 
 tion. You 're the most talkative cuss I ever rode 
 with. That is, exceptin' old Pete. Ever hear of 
 Pete?" 
 
164 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Blaze shook his head. "Not me." 
 
 Melody brushed the fiery hair back from his eyes. 
 
 "Well, this here Tarantula Pete and Death Valley 
 Sawyer hit into the Panamints to pick up odds and 
 ends in mines and Wells Fargo pouches and things 
 like that. They didn't shy at anything but words. 
 After they were out eleven months and nine days, 
 Pete said, ' I guess this is Christmas. ' It was the first 
 time the primeval silence had been fractured there- 
 abouts by word of mouth since stout Cortes with all 
 his men had said, 'Gee whiz, what a long hike to find 
 the Fountain of Youth ! We '11 be too old to want 
 to be young again before we git a sip, if this thing 
 keeps up/ 
 
 "Well, ten days after that remark, Death Valley 
 Sawyer said, casual-like, as if Christmas had waited 
 round for him to make up his mind, 'How in hell do 
 you know it 's Christmas?' 
 
 "That night Pete took his coffee and his share of 
 the beans, and broke a lifelong friendship. Before 
 leaving he wrote a note to old Death Valley, saying 
 as how he just had to go, as there was too damned 
 much discussion around there to suit him." 
 
 "If there 's more to it, let 's have it," Blaze called 
 sarcastically. 
 
 "Humph! You've got it all, companero!" 
 
 Blaze rolled his eyes sadly. 
 
 "Ain't that story ever had any effect on you, per- 
 sonal?" he asked mournfully. 
 
 Melody pulled his sombrero low over his eyes. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 165 
 
 "I never missed Christmas yet/' he answered 
 wrathfully. 
 
 Christmas, even though mentioned in jest, was too 
 poignant a reminder. 
 
 "You 've been lucky/' Blaze drawled, a note, not 
 all banter, creeping into his voice. It escaped Melody. 
 
 "I got a license to be lucky," he chirped blithely. 
 "See that!" 
 
 He pulled his Ingersoll, chain and all, from an in- 
 side vest-pocket. "That's my alee," he asserted, as 
 he held up the charm that dangled from the end of 
 his chain, for Blaze's inspection. 
 
 Blaze felt his pulse jump as he caught sight of it. 
 Beyond the shadow of a doubt, it was the charm that 
 had made the impression in the sand on the rim-rocks 
 above Smoky Canon. 
 
 Melody misread the interest with which his friend 
 stared at the cryptic piece. 
 
 "Right from old Chi," he exclaimed to forestall 
 any criticism of his belonging. "Sears, Sawhorse & 
 Co. -page 982." 
 
 Melody laughed at his own wit. 
 
 "No Injun ever sot eyes on that," he added. "I 
 had the real thing once; got it down in Moqui Land." 
 
 "Where 'd you get this?" Blaze demanded anx- 
 iously. 
 
 "I suppose it 's yours?" the other flashed back. 
 
 "No; it 's not mine; and I '11 bet a leg it ain't 
 yours either, old-timer. Where 'd you find it?" 
 
 "You just guessin'?" Melody asked cautiously. 
 
166 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "I know what I 'm talking about. When did you 
 pick it up?" 
 
 "A couple o' days ago, in the sand around the 
 hitchin '-post, outside the door at the Bull's Head." 
 
 Kildare turned the silver ornament from one side 
 to the other, as if he were trying to make it give up 
 its secret. Finding it in the ranch yard made the 
 chain of circumstantial evidence against the Big Boss 
 almost complete. 
 
 "Anybody seen you wearin' it?" he asked. 
 
 "No, sir!" Melody was emphatic. "I 'm beyond 
 wearin' that stuff in public." 
 
 Blaze handed back his watch. 
 
 "I 'm goin' to keep this, just because." He held 
 the charm in his open palm. The red-haired one had 
 caught something between the lines. Blaze glanced 
 at him. "The man that owns this," he went on, 
 "killed Old Ironsides." 
 
 1 ' What ? ' ' Melody 's eyes bulged. ' ' Now what do 
 you know *bout that?" He shook his head, thor- 
 oughly bewildered. "There 's Injun luck for you," 
 he added. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 WITH the slow advance of the freight team driven 
 by the slower moving Wash the destiny of 
 Paradise Valley was indissolubly linked. The old 
 skinner had laughed immoderately at the discomfiture 
 of One-eyed Manuel, in his encounter with Bodine in 
 the Benavides barroom. He laughed even louder now 
 in anticipation of Bodine 's discomfiture when the final 
 encounter with Acklin should be of record. 
 
 Old Wash had what is known in the vernacular as 
 inside information. The creaking wagon, warped to 
 match the seamed countenance of its owner, carried 
 enough dynamite to blow Cleopatra's Needle into 
 many and various shapes. 
 
 That was the intent, too. Cleo's well-advertised 
 and obvious mountain of granite was to be laid low. 
 
 Gallagher and his rigger had arrived. The donkey- 
 engine was in place. Cash had the road in shape. 
 Where Martin Canon narrowed, a cable had been 
 strung from bank to bank. The actual building of 
 the dam only awaited the arrival of Wash and his 
 precious load. 
 
 With the advent of the dynamite, it seemed that 
 Cheops had come back to build another pyramid. The 
 upper reaches of the Santa Rosas reechoed and trem- 
 bled as the huge blocks of stone were blown out to be 
 
 167 
 
168 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 snaked down to the rim of the canon. Once there, it 
 seemed that they would give as much trouble in get- 
 ting them into position as the storied one and his 
 myriad slaves had had in getting the material for the 
 great tomb across the Nile. But little Mac and his 
 donkey-engine solved that. 
 
 By means of a flume, the creek had been diverted 
 around the dam. So, in complete safety, far from 
 prying eyes, the structure took form. The far-sighted, 
 philanthropic Bodine had made it possible by .his 
 adroit recalling of the almost forgotten fact that 
 "Webster Creek owed no allegiance to any other stream. 
 The water was his and Acklin's; to divide as they saw 
 fit, he had said. He had been slightly mistaken, as he 
 would soon find out. It was another case of winner 
 take all. 
 
 The Big Boss may have smiled as he thought of the 
 unhappy Buck, but that individual had found means 
 of his own that caused him to smile even more 'broadly 
 whenever he remembered Acklin. The present mo- 
 ment was one of these occasions. 
 
 In a bight in the shoulder of one of the Timbered 
 Buttes he and Shorty and Gloomy were busily engaged 
 in a work that was nothing short of art. The good 
 grass in the buttes lured the cattle there. As Cash 
 had said, the steers were ready for the market. This 
 interesting fact had been perceived by the astute Buck 
 some time back. He was now taking advantage of it 
 to his own particular profit. 
 
 One of his first acts on taking over the "Webster 
 ranch was to register his brand; a circle W, with 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 169 
 
 arrow. Back of his choosing this particular brand 
 was concentration of a high order, as will be observed. 
 
 Kunning as many cattle as they did, the Double A 
 branding was not always carefully done. Therefore 
 about every fifth steer carried his Double A mark 
 slantwise, or even upside down. Being on their own 
 range, it sufficed. Cattle-rustling had become such a 
 lost art that even the ear-notching had been dispensed 
 ivith. Bodine became aware of these rudimentary 
 facts without conscious effort. 
 
 But stop to contemplate the metamorphosis that 
 took place when one of these upside-down brands was 
 retouched. A circle burnt around the inverted letters 
 
 made them look like this (VTv/ ) The deft placing of 
 
 the arrow in this fashion <f\A/JE left no trace of 
 
 Acklin's ownership. Only an expert in a court of 
 law could prove that it was overbranding : and that 
 only by killing the yearling and stripping his hide. 
 
 "What a sucker Acklin is," Bodine chuckled, as he 
 burned his points into the snorting steer on which he 
 knelt. There was a light wind blowing that sent the 
 acrid smoke of the singeing hair into his mouth and 
 nostrils and made him splutter and cough. 
 
 Shorty and Gloomy loosened their ropes. Buck 
 kicked the steer in the ribs, and it dashed down the 
 arroyo. 
 
170 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "How many is that?" the big fellow asked. 
 
 "Twenty," Shorty sang out. 
 
 "That 's enough. We '11 shoo 'em out of here in 
 a hurry now." 
 
 Gloomy stamped out their little fire and scattered 
 the burnt ends. 
 
 Half an hour later a curve of the hills hid them 
 from view. 
 
 Three miles to the north of them Disaster Peak 
 raised its rocky head. On its flat surface, a field- 
 glass to 'his eyes, lay Kildare. For an hour he had 
 not moved. From time to time he had fancied he saw 
 a wisp of smoke rising from the spot where Bodine 
 and his men had used their iron. 
 
 For sixteen days Melody and he had roamed the 
 Buttes. Once they had been shot at, but they had 
 yet to catch a glimpse of the men they were after. 
 Twice in the time they had been out they had drifted 
 to within hearing distance of the ranch on Webster 
 Creek. No sight of the bandy-legged Shorty had 
 rewarded Blaze: this, for the simple reason that 
 Shorty was no longer skulking about the house. He 
 had taken to the hills with the others, and it had been 
 his rifle that had flashed at the Double A men. 
 
 Camping wherever night found them; without 
 water about half the time ; daring a fire only in the 
 very early dawn; they had worn their tempers to a 
 razor's edge. Even their mounts were beginning to 
 show the wear and tear of the chase. 
 
 Blaze sighed as he stretched himself. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 171 
 
 "Ain't you ever got sick of this country ?" Melody 
 asked as he rolled his Durham. 
 
 "Once or twice. A fine way to cure it is to go 
 somewhere else for a spell. You '11 come back! I 
 been around a little; the Yukon, Old Mex, and Can- 
 ada ; nothing like the West though. It 11 all be gone 
 pretty soon. There were buffalo back in Wyoming 
 when I was a boy. ' ' 
 
 "Antelope, too." 
 
 "Everywhere! Soon as you got out in the open 
 and topped a rise, you 'd see their white rears as they 
 fanned it for a draw or arroyo. Well, the buffalo 
 went; the antelope are gone, too. It won't be long 
 before the cattle follow suit. Farms and phonographs 
 will be cluttering up these valleys in another ten 
 years. ' ' 
 
 "They '11 work their cattle with a Ford then," the 
 poet answered sarcastically. "It 's just the married 
 West against the bachelor West ; and a bachelor never 
 got nowheres. We '11 have to move on." 
 
 "There 's no moving from here, Melody. This is 
 the last stand. When this country is broken up, the 
 West is gone." 
 
 The singer finished his cigarette in silence. "I 
 ain't got any use for the three R's," he groaned, as 
 he threw his butt away. "Respectability, reclama- 
 tion, and rural free delivery don't sound good to me. 
 I got to be where I can smell the old sage. You know 
 how it hits you right after a rain, when it 's wet, and 
 your horse tramps it down; I never smelled nothin* 
 like it. Thrills me like love does some people." 
 
172 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 He gazed off at the bare, unending expanse to the 
 southwest, where not a tree nor a man nor beast broke 
 the line of vision. Glasses to his eyes, Blaze resumed 
 his sweeping inspection of it. 
 
 He again caught a hint of smoke to the south. A 
 second and it was gone. But as he watched, a tiny 
 black cloud rose into the sky and hung pendant. He 
 handed the glasses to Melody as another patch of 
 smoke went up. 
 
 "Somebody stampin' a fire out down there, " he 
 muttered as he looked. 
 
 ' ' I thought I got a trace of smoke there a little while 
 ago," Blaze replied. "I '11 bet they 've been singeing 
 hair in that dent in the hills. ' ' 
 
 "What are you goin' to do?" 
 
 Kildare was putting his saddle on his horse. 
 
 "I 'm going after them. Shake a leg!" 
 
 "Well, they sure got the jump on us. It 's over 
 four miles to those coulees. With the start they got, 
 they can hit for a dozen places." 
 
 "I '11 tell you about that to-morrow," Blaze flung 
 back as My Man began picking his way gingerly down 
 the steep sides of the peak. 
 
 They were well into the valley by the time Shorty 
 and Gloomy had goaded the recalcitrant steers to the 
 sluggish dog-trot that would bring them near evening 
 to the head of Webster Creek. The ashes of Bodine's 
 fire were still warm when the Double A men found 
 them. 
 
 Melody had made a thousand similar fires in his 
 lifetime. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 173 
 
 " Bustlers, all right," lie asserted. 
 
 Blaze looked at the slowly purpling sage that be- 
 tokened the coming night. 
 
 "What did you expect? Missionaries ?" he said 
 grimly. 
 
 He knew that only the slimmest chance remained 
 that they could catch up with the brand-burners. 
 
 The poet sensed his thought. "Well?" he queried. 
 
 "They are better than an hour ahead of us. It '11 
 be black night in the canons in two hours. We got 
 to be in the open before then. It 's just a chance; 
 let 's pound leather!" 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 NO hint of the building of the dam had reached 
 Kildare and Melody. The construction of it 
 had moved forward without a hitch. Acklin took a 
 prideful pleasure in sitting for hours at a time watch- 
 ing the workmen. Gallagher promised that he would 
 he finished in another five days. By a strange but 
 entirely human quirk in his cosmos, the Big Boss often 
 fancied as he sat there that the elder Acklin reached 
 down an approving hand from his heavenly home and 
 patted him on the back for having accomplished this 
 work of stone and cement, which would make the 
 Double A independent even of the weather. He often 
 imagined he felt the ghostly hand of his benignant 
 father tremble as he realized that at last Paradise 
 Valley was going to be a part of the Double A empire. 
 
 Owing to Morrow's vigilance and old Wash's fond- 
 ness for the mighty dollar, no word of the work had 
 passed the Double A frontier. The Basques moved 
 about in sullen hate. Kent and Brand had promised 
 relief, but the long-suffering ranchers were learning 
 anew the exasperating slowness of the law. 
 
 Desolation stalked from one end of the valley to the 
 other. Springs and wells were drained dry. The 
 Little Washoe held only a trickle of water. The 
 autumn rains were still weeks away. No wonder the 
 
 174 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 175 
 
 people of the valley stared with brooding, hopeless 
 eyes at the copper-colored sun that daily swung across 
 the sky. 
 
 Owing to Mercedes's care, Esteban was as well as 
 ever. He kept the hacienda supplied with enough 
 water for the bare necessities of life by sinking shallow 
 wells in the bed of the creek ; a bucketful or two, and 
 they went dry. Still, it sufficed to keep body and soul 
 together. 
 
 He had kept his word with Kent that he would not 
 resort to violence again. But, as he came home day 
 after day from his long rides about the Rancho or 
 from meeting his neighbors, and encountered Mer- 
 cedes's expectant eyes without being able to give her 
 any word of encouragement, he began to lose faith in 
 the little man. 
 
 Mercedes saw the impatience growing in her brother. 
 Her trust in Kent had not wavered, but it was with 
 thankfulness in her heart that she heard Esteban say 
 that Kent would be home the following day. 
 
 She carried a gun now and frequently went about 
 the Rancho alone. She often thought of Kildare. 
 Where he had disappeared to was a mystery. Mer- 
 cedes could not believe that he had gone away with- 
 out even saying good-by. That she had hurt him she 
 did not doubt. Still if Blaze could have known that 
 on these rides she never topped a rise without hoping 
 to meet him, he would have felt well repaid for the 
 heartache she had caused. 
 
 Bodine's injunction, as far as she knew, had had 
 no other effect than to keep her people from inter- 
 
176 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 fering with the creeks. Kent had used it as a club 
 to stop his Basque friends from getting beyond the 
 law. That she had seen nothing of Acklin, she put 
 down to his being afraid to venture into the valley. 
 
 Her intense hatred of the man prompted this 
 thought. The Big Boss had ridden through Paradise 
 several times in the last ten days. As the dam grew 
 near completion, both Gallagher and he now and then 
 found it necessary to hurry to Winnemucca for some 
 needed tool or equipment. 
 
 Mercedes found cause to change her opinion that 
 very day. She had gone to the cemetery and was on 
 her way home when she came upon both Acklin and 
 Gallagher. The contractor rode on as the ranchman 
 turned his horse across the girl 's trail. The cold eyes 
 and the stolid expression with which Mercedes re- 
 garded him as she ignored his greeting caused the Big 
 Boss to change his tactics. 
 
 ' ' Things look pretty bad down here, Mercedes, ' ' he 
 said, with a show of sympathy. "I suppose you are 
 pretty well discouraged.' 7 
 
 The girl read in his words a thinly veiled hope that 
 she would throw herself upon his mercy. As if she 
 did not know the futility of appealing to him for fair 
 play! 
 
 1 'My people were never easily discouraged in the 
 past, Senor," she answered with pride. "What we 
 had, we made for ourselves. " 
 
 "There won't be any use in fighting much longer. 
 No, there won't, Mercedes," he repeated, as she smiled 
 scornfully. ' ' The past will have to take care of Itself, 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 177 
 
 I 'm talking about now. Your people may have over- 
 come a lot, but they had water. There 's no water 
 now; and there won't be any. I don't want to see 
 you turned out the way these other folks will be. I 
 been aimin' to come down to see you for three or four 
 days, but I couldn't make it." 
 
 "You should send your man," Mercedes cut in 
 provokingly. 
 
 "Still thinking about him, eh?" Acklin's brows 
 contracted. "I got him over in the buttes where he 
 won't bother you none. That reminds me; you were 
 none too nice to me the last time I was at the hacienda, 
 but that 's all right. I 'm reasonable. You 're dead 
 set against me on account of something, and here I 've 
 been trying to figure out a plan to help you ever 
 since this fight began." 
 
 The withering irony of the laughter that greeted 
 this statement brought an angry flush to Acklin's 
 cheeks. 
 
 "You help me, huh? Ha, ha, ha! Si, si! I come 
 now from the grave of one you help, too." 
 
 Mercedes's voice cut with its sharpness as she con- 
 tinued : 
 
 "You fool him, Senor, with your lies. But you do 
 not fool me ! You have never help any one but your- 
 self." 
 
 * * But I don 't want to fight you, ' ' Acklin continued 
 in that same low, uncompromising tone. I '11 buy the 
 Rancho, and give you a good price; twice what I 'd 
 give anybody else." 
 
 Sell Buena Vista ! The place her father had been a 
 
178 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 lifetime building ! Mercedes felt as if a divine spirit 
 came to aid her as she shook her head. 
 
 "No! No! We may starve; you may even take 
 the Rancho away from us by force. But we will not 
 sell!' 7 
 
 "You '11 change your mind; and I may change 
 mine. You better not wait until I do. You 've got 
 close to a thousand acres. Without water it isn't 
 worth a thing. I '11 " 
 
 She looked at him. He was leading somewhere. 
 She knew that. 
 
 "I '11 buy in all I want at my own price, ' ' he went 
 on evenly. "But I want to prove that I am your 
 friend. I 'd do a lot for you, Mercedes. Yes, I 
 would. I '11 give you ten dollars an acre for all you 
 own. That '11 give you a good nest-egg. Your father 
 didn't have any debts to speak of." 
 
 "Ten dollars, huh?" she quoted sarcastically. 
 "You are too kind, Senor. A month ago my father 
 would have refused a hundred dollars an acre for most 
 of the Rancho. But if you offered me twice ten dol- 
 lars my answer would be the same; we will not sell!" 
 
 "That 's my offer. I 'm ready to pay you good 
 money, for old sake 's sake. You can take it, or fight. ' ' 
 
 Acklin snapped out the last two words. 
 
 "Here comes Kent and your brother now. You 
 talk it over with Esteban. I '11 stand by my promise." 
 
 "Hello, Miss Mercedes," Tuscarora called out. 
 
 The girl felt his cheerfulness was forced. Her 
 brother reflected the little man's mood. The boy 
 ignored Acklin, but Kent gave him a curt nod. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 179 
 
 " Did n't expect to see you down here," he said. 
 
 "The surprise is mutual, Kent." 
 
 Without any preamble Joe jumped on the thing 
 that was on his mind. "Brand and I got to the bot- 
 tom of this fight a little sooner than we expected." 
 He stopped to regard the Big Boss accusingly. "You 
 play it whole hog or none, don't you?" 
 
 Acklin's answer was his stock grin. 
 
 "This fight goes 'way beyond any question of 
 water," Tuscarora continued. "We wasn't votin' 
 to suit you. It did n 't matter as long as your crowd 
 was doing the countin'. But with Brand gettin' 
 ready to check up each vote and see that it went to 
 the man it was cast for, well, somethin' had to be 
 done. So you hit upon this scheme to grab every- 
 thin' in sight, and starve us out of the county at the 
 same time. It 's been done before." 
 
 "There won't be any question about your going, 
 I guess." 
 
 Acklin's voice was defiant. 
 
 "We won't go!" Esteban hurled at him. "Don't 
 forget that. We can sit tight. We know this 
 Bodine's only a capper for you. It 's your own 
 private show, Acklin." 
 
 "Is that a question?" 
 
 "You don't have to answer it," the little man flung 
 back. * ' I know that you 've got the skids all greased 
 for us. If we jolt the law again, the sheriff butts in. 
 If he ain't strong enough your little old governor 
 will get in touch with Washington, and the U. S. A. 
 will trot out a few regulars from Fort Douglas or 
 
180 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 the Presidio. Oh, yes! If we start that mill a- 
 grindin' we lose." 
 
 The Big Boss pretended to laugh. 
 
 "We must get water on our land soon or our claims 
 die," Mercedes stated. "Just before you come, the 
 Senor say that very thing to me." 
 
 Tuscarora turned to the girl. 
 
 "Well, we 've got to keep within the law if we never 
 get a drop of water. That 's the only way we can 
 fool him." 
 
 Kent pulled up his horse as a sign that the conver- 
 sation was at an end. Mercedes and Esteban trotted 
 off silent and sullen. Kent lingered a second. 
 
 "There 's only one thing you didn't fix, Acklin," 
 they heard Tuscarora say. "That 's public opinion. 
 You might get away with this grab in Germany or 
 Russia, or back East in the coal country, with only 
 a lot of bohunks to fight you. But this is America; 
 and we 're Americans. You can't scare us." 
 
 After supper that evening Esteban rode into Para- 
 dise with Kent. The excitement that greeted the news 
 of Acklin 's offer almost cost Tuscarora his leadership. 
 It crystallized the temper of the crowd ; and it ended 
 their groping in the dark. The days of suspicion and 
 surmise were past. For the first time, the Double A 
 had come out in the open. Each one of them knew 
 now what he faced. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 KENT sat in his room the following morning with 
 bowed head. No man could have tried harder 
 to find an opening by which he and his friends could 
 get justice. But the temper of the crowd of the night 
 before was evidence enough that he had failed. His 
 words had sounded empty in the face of Acklin's 
 threat. If they must lose anyway, it certainly would 
 be better to go down fighting than to stand idly by, 
 as they had been doing, and see their ranches taken 
 away without a struggle to keep them. 
 
 The little man easily understood his friends* phil- 
 osophy. He knew the Basque make-up well enough 
 to understand that, in spite of all argument, they 
 would never admit they- could not drive Acklin back 
 by force until they had tried it. 
 
 He came downstairs and walked over to Benavides 's 
 place. The nods and greetings he received were in 
 strong contrast to the manner in which he had once 
 been met. The whispering and low-toned conversa- 
 tion, which stopped on his approach, told Kent as 
 plainly as though he had read it in a newspaper that 
 trouble was brewing. "When it would come would 
 depend entirely on who was behind the agitation. 
 
 As he came out of the saloon and saw Esteban turn 
 into the post-office to avoid meeting him, he had his 
 
 181 
 
182 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 answer. He would be surprised if the next twenty- 
 four hours did not see the Basques pouring up the 
 valley of the Rebel. 
 
 It was coming sooner than even Kent surmised. 
 Out of the group-fear of hunger, which has dogged 
 the steps of the human race since man took possession 
 of the earth, had come common enlightenment and a 
 cry for concerted action. 
 
 Old Ironsides' son moved about the town giving 
 his commands with a new dignity that was subtly 
 reminiscent of his father. Romero was pushed aside ; 
 he took his orders from Esteban. 
 
 The boy had, in truth, become the leader of his 
 people. 
 
 That evening, an hour before sunset, they were to 
 strike. 
 
 The appointed time found them pouring along the 
 road to the old meeting-place north of the hacienda, 
 the westering sun blinking on their gun-barrels. Not 
 a man had stayed behind. It was mass action, in 
 deep contrast to the boyish adventure that had failed 
 so miserably. 
 
 Picks, shovels, guns, ammunition came from unex- 
 pected places. As they gathered a hundred strong, 
 Esteban appraised them. These were not boys. They 
 were grim, determined men bent upon the preserva- 
 tion of their homes. 
 
 In orderly precision they moved on the Double A 
 wire. When they were within a mile of it, they 
 spread out fanwise to attack it from the west and 
 south. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 183 
 
 Esteban lighted his smoke signal, and the fan con- 
 verged. From a dozen points the little groups dashed 
 into the bottom-land where he had been wounded 
 weeks ago. Guns were ready, the will to do or die 
 in their hearts; but not a shot was fired. 
 
 The fence was unguarded. 
 
 A quick use of nippers, and the wire was down. In 
 double file they trailed up the dry bed of the stream, 
 their guns held ready. Twenty minutes brought them 
 within sight of the dead trees that marked the con- 
 fluence of the "Webster and the Rebel. They stopped. 
 
 Horses were left behind, here. In Indian fashion 
 they swarmed past the face of the mesa on which Kil- 
 dare had lain the night the water was diverted. It 
 was a likely spot for an ambush; but even there no 
 hand arose to oppose them. 
 
 At their feet ran the water they had come to claim. 
 
 Esteban posted his lookouts. Picks and shovels took 
 the place of guns. With muscles primed for their 
 task, and a will to fire them on, they attacked the 
 barrier that had impoverished them. 
 
 The very intentness with which they applied them- 
 selves kept them from seeing a miracle that was hap- 
 pening even as they worked. Unnoticed, the swift 
 current of the Rebel dropped to sluggishness. No 
 longer did it dash into the mouth of the Webster. 
 The change was slow and gradual; but over at Bo- 
 dine 's ranch it had been appallingly sudden. 
 
 Buck, out of his saddle only some ten minutes, had 
 been on the point of sousing a pail into the stream 
 at his feet when the creek that only a minute before 
 
184 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 had been full to its banks dwindled to a thin trickle 
 that lapped the stones old Hank Webster had used 
 as a crossing. 
 
 And even as he continued to stare speechlessly at 
 the receding water, it died away to nothing. Only 
 momentarily was his profane tongue stilled. He 
 hurled his bucket to the ground with such violence 
 that it broke into kindling. He tore his hair and cried 
 out his wrath in tones that echoed up and down the 
 canon. He stamped his feet and he swore, and con- 
 signed the entire race of Basques to agonies only a 
 devil could have conceived. 
 
 ' ' The law ! " he wailed. ' ' They 've broken the law ! 
 What good is law if people won't live up to it?" 
 
 If Buck ever recalled this speech, it must have made 
 him smile. It was not funny to him at the moment. 
 In a voice to wake the dead, he called for his boys. 
 But his own cleverness had sent them out of reach. 
 As soon as they had struck the ranch, he had ordered 
 Shorty and Gloomy and the others to drive the stolen 
 steers to the lower end of the ranch where they would 
 soon mingle with the other stock, the greater part of 
 which had been acquired in quite the same manner 
 as had won this herd of twenty. 
 
 Realization of his predicament caused another out- 
 burst of anger; it dulled his ears to the approach of 
 two horsemen coming from the north. They rode at 
 a leisurely gait that was little in keeping with their 
 tempers. The two. riders were Kildare and Melody. 
 
 They had almost reached his barn before Bodine 
 became aware of them. He recognized Kildare. The 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 185 
 
 disappearance of the water had been so immediate and 
 all-engrossing that he had lost some of his native 
 cunning, or else he would not have overlooked the fact 
 that they came from the same direction from which he 
 and his men had so lately arrived. He would have 
 weighed their intrusion, doubted their explanations, 
 and watched for them to trip themselves on their own 
 words. Instead of which he turned to them to witness 
 the trick that had been played upon him. 
 
 "Look at that, Kildafe," he cried, pointing to the 
 dry creek-bottom. "Not a pailful left!" 
 
 Melody and Blaze exchanged a quick, uneasy glance. 
 "What had happened while they had been in the hills? 
 Had there been another fight ? 
 
 "Goin', goin'," Melody quoted facetiously. 
 
 ' ' Goin ' ?' ' Buck roared. ' l You mean gone ! But I 
 ain't! I ain't gone! I '11 get the cuckoos that did 
 this. You wait." 
 
 The clatter of his boots on the wooden steps that led 
 into his kitchen drowned his angry words as he dashed 
 for his rifle. 
 
 "Look at the ground," Melody whispered. "It 's 
 all pawed up. He got our stuff. Drove right by 
 here." 
 
 "Don't say anything," Blaze cautioned. "He 11 
 try it again." 
 
 Through the open door they could see Bodine filling 
 his belt with shells. Kildare felt his fingers itching 
 to get hold of one of them. But the more urgent 
 question of their own immediate conduct drove the 
 thought from his mind as he said: 
 
186 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "He 's killing mad right now, Melody. We 11 go 
 with him. If he goes after anybody, get him first." 
 
 Bodine was back the next instant. 
 
 "Come on," he cried. "We '11 get inside the wire 
 here and hit it up for the forks. They hain 't no damn 
 Basque goin' to put this over on me." 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 WITH a rattle of hoofs they thundered across the 
 wooden bridge Bodine had built over the 
 Webster. But even before they were out of sight an 
 echo of the calamity that had befallen Buck had 
 reached the men toiling at the barrier between the 
 two creeks. 
 
 * * The water 's going ! ' ' some one cried. 
 
 Shovels were dropped as they stared open-mouthed 
 at the miracle taking place before them. Cold fear 
 settled on some as old Ortega wailed that it was a 
 heavenly visitation for their sins. 
 
 " Visitation nothing !" Esteban shouted. The un- 
 guarded fence began to take on a sinister look. 
 
 "If it is not so," the old man flared back, "where 
 has the water gone?" 
 
 "Keep your guns handy," the youthful leader sang 
 out. "It 's a trap. The fence was left unguarded 
 purposely. ' f 
 
 The trees that lined the Webster offered the best 
 cover. Esteban hurried his men behind them. This 
 accomplished, he sent Romero and five or six com- 
 panions beating through the brush. They were back 
 in fifteen minutes without having seen a sign of an 
 enemy. 
 
 By the time they had held a consultation, Bodine 
 187 
 
188 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 and the two Double A men had drawn into sight. 
 The road they were following led across an open plain 
 for half a mile before it reached the creek. 
 
 The Basques were ready. Esteban cautioned them 
 not to shoot. Lying in the heavy underbrush, they 
 were not visible to the oncoming horsemen. The three 
 men were within a hundred yards of the creek before 
 they caught the first hint of ambush. 
 
 Bodine went for his rifle, but Esteban stopped him 
 with "Hands up, or we '11 shoot to kill!" 
 
 The way the rifles began to peek out of the dead 
 brush convinced the three riders that wisdom was 
 the better part of valor. 
 
 "Come on," Esteban cried. "We want to talk to 
 you." 
 
 When they had ridden up, the boy flashed a sur- 
 prised look at Blaze. 
 
 "You 're in fine company, all right. Put your 
 hands down, but don't make a move for your guns." 
 
 Bodine trailed his eyes over the determined Basques. 
 
 "Ortega, Ugarde, Arrascada humph! All the so- 
 cial leaders are on hand, I see," he muttered aloud. 
 "Well, why don't you shoot, or do something to cele- 
 brate the cute trick you birds played on me." 
 
 He watched the crowd for a minute. His eyes nar- 
 rowed to mere slits through which the soul of the 
 killer peered ominously. 
 
 "You mean, that you played on us," Esteban flung 
 at him. "You and your injunction! Take a look at 
 that!" 
 
 Bodine 's eyes followed his as he pointed to the dry 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 bed of the Rebel above the place where it joined the 
 "Webster. His mouth became just a great sagging 
 gash as. comprehension of the fact that the Rebel was 
 as dry as the Webster dawned on him. A guttural 
 throat noise escaped the man. Unconsciously he 
 blinked his eyes, but he had not been deceived by a 
 hallucination. His face grew white as anger writhed 
 for an outlet. 
 
 Blaze and Melody exchanged a furtive glance. 
 Kildare's face remained placid. Apparently uncon- 
 cerned, he watched Bodine. He saw the big fellow's 
 eyes roam over the half -demolished barrier and a 
 deeper pallor come to his cheeks as he sensed that the 
 men before him had not taken the water. 
 
 With surprise that equaled his own, the Basques 
 saw the consternation and awe that gripped their 
 enemy. Bodine 's lips closed over his wet fangs. The 
 look of horror passed. His cunning rat eyes began to 
 shift from the Double A men to them. But the angry 
 torrent they expected did not follow. A suspicion of 
 the truth was in the look he gave Kildare. His ani- 
 mal intuition was warning him of the trap. Bestial 
 anger enveloped him, but he held his prolifically pro- 
 fane tongue ; and the effort left him weak and flabby. 
 
 "What have you got to say to that?" Esteban de- 
 manded in accents that clicked. 
 
 Bewildered, Bodine rolled his head from side to 
 side. 
 
 "Acklin," he muttered slowly; "he 's fooled us 
 all." 
 
 "Acklin?" 
 
190 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 A rumbling murmur passed through the crowd as 
 it echoed Esteban's question. 
 
 The boy turned on Blaze: 
 
 "Is that right, Kildare?" 
 
 The crowd shifted its attention to the Double A 
 man. Blaze met their stare calmly. 
 
 "We 've been up beyond the peak for almost three 
 weeks. We haven't seen a Double A man since we 
 left/' 
 
 "What you been doin' in the Buttes?" Bodine 
 growled. 
 
 "You ought to know," Melody snapped back, too 
 late for Blaze to check him. 
 
 "What do you mean, you dirty " 
 
 Bodine 's hand was at his holster. 
 
 "Go on/' Blaze urged. "You 11 never live to get 
 that gun out." 
 
 He had not moved, but there was a deadly convic- 
 tion in his voice. Buck stopped where he was. 
 
 "That '11 keep," he said meaningly. Then to Este- 
 ban : "Let 's find out if Acklin has tricked this creek. " 
 
 The boy's crowd answered for him with a cry of 
 assent. 
 
 Side by side the two parties moved, slowly at first j 
 but as they found nothing to reward them, their pace 
 quickened until it became a mad scramble, as if each 
 was trying to be the first to find the answer to the 
 mystery. 
 
 And then, as they rounded the bend where the creek 
 narrowed as it came dashing out of Martin Canon, the 
 truth struck them as though they were but one man. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 191 
 
 High across the chasm before them bulked the mighty- 
 dam, the top of thevsolid mass of masonry bathed in 
 the last rays of the setting sun. 
 
 A heart-rending cry of anguish arose from their 
 lips. 
 
 The creek-bottom was already in shadow. There 
 they huddled with blank faces, their eyes staring, 
 riveted to the structure that towered high above them. 
 It was austere, forbidding. 
 
 They had crossed frowning seas; broached high, 
 hills and leveled them; they had wrested from the 
 desert a grudging foothold, and the fight had been a 
 bitter one. They had faced the loss of their dear ones, 
 wept their tears, and plodded on again. Nothing had 
 daunted them. Now they looked on Acklin's handi- 
 work and their hearts sank. It was the cunning of 
 the devil that confronted them. 
 
 Esteban recalled the words the Big Boss had often 
 used to them : 
 
 "Possession is nine points of the law." 
 
 He had possession now. This gave it to him, 
 
 A feeling of fatality grasped his comrades. This 
 thing of rock and concrete crushed and destroyed their 
 spirit. Like the law and the ways of God, Acklin 
 and his dam were not understandable to their primi- 
 tive minds. 
 
 Some of them got to their knees and prayed ; others 
 raised their hands to heaven and moaned or blas- 
 phemed. But above all sound arose the croaking voice 
 of old Ortega as he repeated his oracular "It is a 
 visitation of God upon us for our sins!" 
 
192 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 The astonishment of the Double A men was equal 
 to that of the Basques. To Melody, the dam was only 
 another evidence of Acklin's ability to get what he 
 went after. 
 
 In Kildare it awakened strange emotions. For one 
 thing, it revealed the Big Boss as he had seen him; 
 hard, uncompromising, ruthless. But a sense of loss, 
 a feeling of sadness, that quite outweighed any con- 
 sideration of Acklin, filled him. Over and over he 
 asked himself what she was going to do now. A glance 
 at her brother's face brought his question home even 
 more pointedly. What would Mercedes do now? 
 
 He had no thought of himself or of Melody. And 
 yet he must have realized how desperate was their 
 plight. Out of all this, however, there came one sus- 
 taining thing: the utter collapse of Bodine. He was 
 through, double-crossed, and in the very manner in 
 which Kent had predicted he would be. 
 
 Blaze watched him. The man had dismounted and 
 was pacing up and down the dry creek-bed. Every 
 ten or twelve steps he would turn suddenly and, shak- 
 ing his fist at the giant wall, pour out a string of 
 curses and threats that burned the air. He would 
 have killed Acklin on sight in his present mood. 
 Whenever he recalled that he, the blundering, stupid 
 idiot, had pulled this coal out of the fire for the 
 Double A, he raved like a madman. 
 
 Esteban spurred up to the big fellow, the manner 
 in which Bodine had given way filling him with dis- 
 gust. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 193 
 
 "Dry up that noise/ 7 he called out. "That kind 
 of talk won't get you any thing. " 
 
 Blaze felt a silent admiration for the young fellow 's 
 grit. Bodine also caught the tone of authority in his 
 voice. 
 
 "Well, what are we goin' to do?" he demanded. 
 
 "You forget that we stuff, Bodine," Esteban said 
 hotly. "What my people do, they 11 do without any 
 help from you. We 're not forgetting, you double- 
 crossed stool-pigeon! Acklin has played you for a 
 fool, but you 'd have driven us out if you could." 
 
 A guttural chorus approved his words. 
 
 "Have it your own way," the big fellow roared. 
 "I 'd 'a' lined up with you; we 'd 'a' give Acklin a 
 taste of his own medicine. He couldn't lick us all. 
 You go ahead, and see where you get off. You got 
 two of his pets right here. What you goin' to do 
 with them?" 
 
 Bodine was playing to the crowd now. There was 
 a quick movement toward the Double A men. Blaze 
 and Melody backed up against the stone wall. Este- 
 ban got in front of them. He faced his own people 
 with his gun raised. 
 
 "Firme amig&st!" he cried to them in their own 
 tongue. ' ' This man let me get away the night I first 
 came around the wire. I had put a bullet through 
 his shoulder ; there was no reason this side of hell why 
 he should have let me go, but he did. It is not our 
 way to forget. He and his friend go free." 
 
 Esteban turned to Blaze: 
 
194 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "I *m squaring my score with you right now, Kil- 
 dare. You beat it ! And take this message to Acklin : 
 'Keep out of Paradise! We '11 shoot to kill after to- 
 night. ' That means you, too. Acklin wants war, and 
 he 's going to have it. Get started ! ' ' 
 
 Melody followed Blaze as the Basques opened up 
 io let them through. The poet had begun to under- 
 stand many things that had been a closed book to 
 him up to now. His fondness for the man grew. He 
 marveled at the unconcern with which his friend led 
 the way down the little avenue of hostile guns that 
 could have blown them to pieces with a touch of the 
 finger. 
 
 Shut-mouthed, silent, Kildare won the respect of all 
 of them. Bodine smiled contemptuously. Esteban 
 surprised the expression in his eyes. 
 
 ' ' You heard, Bodine, ' ' he muttered ominously. ' ' It 
 goes for you. When crooks fall out, it 's a long drop. 
 You 'd better drop out of sight. " 
 
 Buck tried to interrupt, but the boy waved him 
 down with a word : ' ' Git ! ' ' 
 
 A movement in the crowd made it eloquent. 
 
 Night was at hand. The whippoorwills were chant- 
 ing their monotonous dirge as they winged across the 
 whispering sage. Defeated, broken, tired with their 
 struggling, the weary Basques were alone at last in 
 the graying twilight with the fate that confronted 
 them. They had come to the battle strong and deter- 
 mined, but now, as they turned to begin the long trip 
 back to their homes, they moved with bowed heads. 
 They were beaten. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 195 
 
 And high above them, belly-down on the wide top 
 of the dam, lay Morrow and twenty of his men, rifles 
 at their sides, watching the retreat. The vaudeville 
 the Big Boss had arranged for their entertainment 
 and the enlightenment of Mr. Bodine had been a 
 satisfying success. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 IN the days that followed, Kildare watched Bodine's 
 movements with untiring patience. Acklin had 
 sent Melody and him into the hills again. For hours 
 at a time they would hold a glass on the house on 
 Webster Creek. Life there became as familiar as if 
 they were on the spot. They counted eight men; 
 Buck and seven others. Their features were not 
 recognizable, but the big fellow's size marked him. 
 No one worked. In the heat of midday the Double A 
 riders rarely caught sight of any of them. 
 
 Morrow met his men one morning. He had no 
 news. He had heard that one or two of the Basques 
 had packed up their belongings and moved on. Cash 
 made light of it. The fight was over! 
 
 He was right, apparently. Blaze had supposed 
 Bodine would kick back once or twice before giving 
 up ; but four days had gone by, and he had not stirred 
 from his retreat. 
 
 The following morning, however, there were signs of 
 life at the Webster ranch. Shortly after daylight 
 Buck and his men were in the saddle, and by noon 
 they had rounded up their stock, now about three 
 hundred head. An hour later they were in motion, 
 pointed for Winnemucca. 
 
 196 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 197 
 
 "They 're headin' for the railroad, sure as you 're 
 born," Melody called to Blaze. 
 
 "We can see them from here for an hour or more. 
 When they reach the river, I 'm going to hike down 
 there. " 
 
 "You ain't got no call to do that, have yuh?" 
 
 "As far as Acklin goes, no. But I 'm going to keep 
 my eyes on this bunch." 
 
 Melody studied his friend's face before he spoke 
 again. 
 
 "Every once in a while you pull a mysterious crack 
 like that," he finally said. "What you got up your 
 sleeve?" 
 
 Blaze looked at him over the cigarette he was rolling. 
 
 "It goes back a long ways, old-timer. Some day 
 maybe you '11 find out." Kildare got to his feet. 
 "But I ain't got any intention of lugging you into 
 trouble. This is my own little affair. I '11 wait here, 
 and you can drift back to the Bull's Head." 
 
 "You make me sick," the red-haired one answered 
 savagely. 
 
 Kildare 's heart warmed to Melody. He understood 
 the other's fit of sullenness. 
 
 ' ' I don 't want to cheat you out of anythin ', ' ' Blaze 
 murmured in his drawling manner. * c Come on along, 
 if you feel that way about it." 
 
 Their proposed plan received a jolt as they saw 
 Bodine and his men separate at the river. Three of 
 them headed back for the Webster. The distance was 
 so great that Blaze could not tell whether Buck was 
 among those who had gone on or not. 
 
198 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "One of us has got to stay here now, Melody. You 
 wait; I'll go." 
 
 By hard riding over a roundabout course, Kildare 
 trailed the moving herd into town. Bodine and the 
 bandy-legged man were not among those present. 
 The steers were loaded the next morning, and the six 
 riders who had brought them in immediately returned 
 to the Webster. 
 
 Evening found Blaze and Melody in their old nest 
 above Bodine 's ranch. 
 
 "Looks like a get-away to me," Kildare told the 
 poet. "I 'd stake my reputation two thirds of that 
 herd were Double A steers. We ought to see some- 
 thing doing in the morning." 
 
 The return of Buck's men from Winnemucca 
 brought things to a head as Kildare had prophesied. 
 Shorty was for leaving at once. 
 
 "Let 's pull our freight," he argued. "Acklin 
 slipped it over all right. But the laugh ain't all his. 
 We got about a hundred and fifty of his yearlin's. 
 That 's the booby-prize, maybe, but it 's somethin V 
 
 Gloomy began to acquiesce. 
 
 "They ain't nothin' stirrin' here," he asserted. 
 
 Bodine got to his feet at this. Every argument 
 within his mental limits had been weighed many times. 
 He surveyed his men calculatingly. 
 
 "If any of you want to drift, go!" He was still 
 the master. "But I ain't playin' this thing for two 
 or three months and kissin' it good-by for the small 
 change we got from that handful of steers. Not me ! 
 I stick! Gloomy is right ; there ain't nothin' stirrin*. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 199 
 
 Well, I aim to get somethin' started. Now who wants 
 to go?" 
 
 Only Shorty remained rebellious. 
 
 "This has been a bad lay from the start/' he 
 growled. "There 's somethin' wrong here. I got it 
 in my bones. When it comes, don't you forget that 
 I told you." 
 
 His croaking enraged Buck. 
 
 "Give me ten days," he cried, "and I '11 show you 
 where we get off. I '11 have Acklin and these boscos 
 tearin' each other's hearts out." 
 
 ' ' My Gawd ! We ain 't goin ' to throw in with these 
 greasers, are we?" Shorty demanded. 
 
 ' ' We '11 play 'em against each other. When Acklin 
 begins to find a stray steer plugged in the lungs, he '11 
 jump at these Basques. We '11 play it so strong he '11 
 just have to strike back. And when he does we '11 help 
 him. Them birds in the valley will fight in a pinch. 
 We '11 switch about that time. We 're goin' to be 
 with the side that wins. When Acklin 's licked, we '11 
 be out on top." 
 
 Little Nez Perce Bill smiled his admiration at 
 Buck's keenness. The half-breed had followed him 
 for years because of this very quality. It impressed 
 the other men. 
 
 "You two," Buck went on, addressing Shorty and 
 Gloomy, "are so strong for excitement; suppose you 
 head for town to-night and circle back after it gets 
 dark. Strike into the hills west of here ; Morrow may 
 have his eye on us. Bump off a few of Acklin 's cattle. 
 Work east to-morrow night. That 11 throw them off 
 
200 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 your trail. It '11 look like the Basques had a finger 
 in it. Get to the north before morning. You '11 find 
 a lot of places to hole-up in for a day or two. Once 
 you pass Hog John 's, lay out as long as it seems safe ; 
 three days if you can make it. Beat it here then, 
 quick as God 11 let you, and pump all the lead you 
 want to as you come." 
 
 Blaze and Melody saw them leave. But night fell, 
 and in the darkness they swung back and up by the 
 way of Kings River. In twenty-four hours word of 
 the red trail they had left reached the Bull's Head. 
 Cash and his riders combed the wide valleys and 
 narrow canons. But Bodine's men were safe in the 
 very heart of Acklin's empire. 
 
 A guard was placed against a repetition of the 
 slaughter. Guerrilla warfare was something Cash 
 understood. A talk with Kildare revealed that the 
 foreman blamed the raid on the Basques. 
 
 ' ' Let them try it again, ' ' he smiled wisely. ' * We '11 
 find a way to strike back." 
 
 After two nights of quiet, Acklin relaxed. He put 
 the incident down for a sporadic attack, a sort of 
 dying blow. But the next night Gloomy and Shorty 
 dashed down from their hiding-place, leaving a gory 
 track to mark the way by which they had come. Be- 
 low the peak they turned west, and threaded their way 
 into the valley of the Kings. There they slept and 
 ate. Twelve hours later they were safe on Webster 
 Creek. 
 
 Bodine could not repress his elation as he waited 
 for them. He and Nez Perce had defied Esteban's 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 201 
 
 order and ridden to Paradise. They had heard a 
 great deal. By ten o'clock they were back on the 
 ranch. Bodine could not sleep. He paced up and 
 down the path in front of the house for more than 
 an hour before his two men arrived. He greeted them 
 vociferously. 
 
 "Boys, we got 'em! The Basques found a notice 
 nailed on the door of the wool-house in Paradise about 
 eight o 'clock this evening. Some of Acklin 's men put 
 it there. It says if any more Double A steers are 
 found shot there '11 be reprisals ; they '11 hit back. 
 You must 'a' got a bunch of them. The Basques are 
 askin' each other who killed this bunch of Double A 
 critters. Every man-jack of them suspects his neigh- 
 bor and is tickled silly. Anything to get Acklin. 
 You boys turn in. The rest of us will tend to this job 
 for to-night." 
 
 "What 's on now?" Gloomy inquired. "He won't 
 have any cattle left if we keep this up." 
 
 "That 's ended." Buck began to smile again. 
 "That warehouse is owned on shares by the Basques. 
 Every one of them is interested in it. Thirty or so 
 have this year's clipping there right now. We 're 
 goin' to touch it off. That '11 hit every one of them 
 in the well-known pocket-book." 
 
 Nez Perce laughed. "He 's hoppin' round on one 
 leg now, those Basque. When we get done, he won't 
 have no place to put even heem." 
 
 An hour from the time the half-breed had emptied 
 a bottle of kerosene over some refuse and lighted it, 
 the big wooden building was in ruins. 
 
202 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "What did I tell you?" Bodine asked repeatedly, 
 when his men brought him word the following day 
 that the Basques had made a raid on the Double A 
 in retaliation for the burning of the wool-house. He 
 shouted with glee. The success of his plans caused 
 him to take a delight in holding Shorty 's forebodings 
 up to ridicule. 
 
 "Hain't it comin' out just like I said? Wait till 
 we give their tail another twist." 
 
 The wantonly cruel move Bodine had in mind was 
 dramatic enough to shock a more conservative imagi- 
 nation than his audience possessed. The third morn- 
 ing after the fire he made the attempt. 
 
 A spur of the Santa Rosas separated Paradise Val- 
 ley from the country that sloped to Quinn River. Old 
 man Liotard, an octogenarian, grazed his sheep in its 
 draws and on the flat mesa that skirted the rim of 
 the valley opposite the Timbered Buttes. 
 
 Liotard occupied a shack that stood where the mesa 
 came to a neck in front of the granite outcroppings 
 that rose to high peaks. 
 
 The mesa and the tiny valleys beyond were only 
 accessible by means of this narrow bit of land. The 
 old man could look across the chasm that separated 
 his aery from the buttes, but the getting there was 
 quite a different matter. It was a sheer fall of eight 
 hundred feet from the eastern rim of the mesa to 
 Bodine 's ranch below. Above the shack there were 
 large pockets in the rocks in which the snow water 
 stored itself. It was a sheep-man's paradise. 
 
 Bodine knew that men like Liotard were looked up 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 203 
 
 to as the heads of their clans. They were uncle, 
 cousin, or grandfather to countless numbers of the 
 Basques in the valley. Marriage tripled and quad- 
 rupled the number. A blow at Liotard would hurt a 
 hundred kinsmen. 
 
 Urging their horses cautiously up the tortuous trail 
 that led to the shack, Shorty and he arrived within 
 sight of the place before dawn. There they waited. 
 
 Minutes rolled by before the old man came out, 
 a moth-eaten dog at his side. Out of a lean-to built 
 against his shack he led a burro that seemed as old 
 as its master. 
 
 Buck smiled as he watched the grotesque turn- 
 out move away on its daily tour of the range. When 
 lie judged it safe, Shorty and he rode up to the 
 cabin, where Shorty produced their morning's meal. 
 
 About seven o'clock Kildare, from a perch across 
 the canon where he watched the house on Webster 
 Creek, caught sight of the milling sheep as Liotard 
 drove them from the water-pockets in the rocks. 
 Blaze had become familiar with the old herder's 
 movements; but he had not seen him leave his cabin 
 this morning. And yet there were his sheep according 
 to custom. 
 
 When the animals settled to grazing, they began 
 moving directly toward the cabin. Noon-time always 
 found them headed back to the higher ground. There 
 were close to a thousand head in the herd; fine big 
 merinos. Blaze laughed as he watched through his 
 glasses the play of the big rams ; but his smile deserted 
 him as he saw two horsemen dash around the cabin 
 
204 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 to the center of the herd. The sheep were in a panic 
 almost instantly. 
 
 The men yelled and swung their ropes over them 
 until the poor animals lost all sense of direction. A 
 few broke for the east. The two men quickly whip- 
 sawed a score more into following them. 
 
 Shooting and hallooing, the riders urged the sheep 
 on, until they sped before the prancing horses. 
 Another minute, and they were hurtling through 
 space to the jagged rocks hundreds of feet below. 
 Thirty, forty Blaze turned away sick. An Indian 
 could not have conceived anything more savage. 
 
 So far Kildare had caught only the backs of the two 
 men; but as they began to cross the mesa, he knew 
 they must come down by the trail that led to the 
 cabin. Blaze moved to where his rifle commanded 
 the road. 
 
 He had not long to wait. Five minutes, and the 
 horsemen hove into view. Bodine was in front. The 
 impulse to drop him out of his saddle was strong ; but 
 the thrill Blaze received when he recognized the man 
 was as nothing compared to the start he experienced 
 when Buck's companion turned his face squarely at 
 Kildare. 
 
 The cow-boy sank back into his cover, his rifle 
 dropping to his side. A grim, sagacious smile hard- 
 ened his face; into his eyes came a flash of satis- 
 faction. 
 
 From his pocket he took the picture he had shown 
 Melody. It was Shorty's photograph. 
 
 "Gee, Kid!" he breathed aloud, "I 'm going to* 
 keep my word with you." 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 LIOTARD was hours getting down to the valley 
 with his story. Kildare had left for the Bull's 
 Head long before the old man went by. It was a 
 grim twist of fate that sent the sheep-man to Bodine 's 
 first with his tale of grief. Buck's sense of humor 
 was equal to the occasion, however. 
 
 "They were fat, Senor; the wool that long." 
 There were tears in Liotard's eyes. "My beautiful 
 sheep; they are all Mil." 
 
 "Wait till the folks down below hear about this," 
 the big fellow roared, in a fine .show of anger. I 11 
 go with you right now." 
 
 Thus the two of them burst upon the quiet town 
 in mid-afternoon. Bad news travels fast, and their 
 story was soon common property. Buck's violent 
 indignation and old Liotard 's repeated turning to him 
 for confirmation of his loss began to have its effect on 
 the Basques. Even Esteban met him without any 
 open show of hostility. 
 
 A little thing in itself, but one from which Buck 
 took a great deal of comfort, was the fact that Kent 
 had gone back to Winnemucca. By evening the 
 temper of the crowd in town was at white heat. An 
 hour from now Bodine knew they would be cooling 
 down. The abuse he had heaped on Acklin, added 
 
 205 
 
206 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 to their own bitter hatred of the man, had brought 
 the big fellow's plans to a climax. If he were to 
 profit by them, he had to risk tossing the dice now. 
 
 He was in Benavides's bar surrounded by a small 
 group that he held charmed with his vitriolic 
 eloquence. To his listeners Buck seemed concerned 
 only with them; but One-eyed Manuel and he had 
 never for a second relaxed their furtive watch of each 
 other. The bartender moved away to serve new cus- 
 tomers near the door. Bodine recognized Esteban 
 among the men who had just come in. He walked 
 over to where the boy was draining his glass. 
 
 "Say, I hope you ain't tankin' up at a time like 
 this," he began. "These folks are dependin' on you 
 to do somethin' for them." 
 
 It was an adroit attack. It stilled some of the 
 resentment Buck's words aroused. 
 
 "I won't be asking any advice of you." 
 
 "And I won't be givin' any, either." Bodine was 
 at his best. "I ain't forgettin' that you told me once 
 you 'd take care of Acklin by yourself. Well, 
 nothin 's happened yet. You folks kill one of his 
 cows, and he burns down your warehouse. You hit 
 back, and he drives your sheep over the cliffs. 
 You 11 grow fat on that kind of stuff, won't you?" 
 
 The murmur Behind him was encouragement 
 enough to make Buck go on. 
 
 "There 's only pne thing to do. It '11 give the 
 Big Boss such a jolt he '11 never get over it. "But 
 it 11 take sand and nerve." 
 
 Bodine could feel the curiosity arising in the boy. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 207 
 
 "But as I said, I ain't givin' advice where it ain't 
 wanted. I 'm goin' home now. "When I get to the 
 cottonwoods "by the bridge, I '11 wait five minutes. If 
 you want to hear what I 've got to say, you meet me 
 there." 
 
 He was too good an actor to wait for his applause. 
 Only at the door did he turn to add: 
 
 * ' Don 't bother if you don 't mean business ! If yon 
 do, come alone." 
 
 It was n 't necessary for Buck to look at his watch. 
 He had barely arrived in the shade of the trees when, 
 he saw Esteban come out and get on his horse. 
 
 "Make it quick," the boy snapped when he drew 
 rein beside him. 
 
 "That suits me. But if you don't like what I 'm 
 going' to say, it stops right here. You get that 
 right, too." 
 
 "Go ahead!" 
 
 "Well, then, let 's forget this game of bushwackin'. 
 I been doin' a little scoutin' on my own around the 
 dam. You can 't get near it from the south. Acklin 's 
 men are there night and day. The old wire fence 
 doesn't count any more. They 've moved their 
 cattle back into the hills. Five men can guard the 
 dam easier than twenty could ride that old line. You 
 know how the country narrows up there." 
 
 Esteban nodded his head. Bodine had told him 
 nothing he did not know himself. He continued to 
 sit motionless as Buck went on. 
 
 "Lookin' round, I found a way to get by these 
 Double A waddies. Get into the Bangs first ; follow 
 
208 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 the creek north, say five miles beyond where that 
 little branch cuts in from the west. You '11 see old 
 Bengoa 's ranch, but keep east of that, by 'm by you '11 
 come to a little park of birches. You can't miss the 
 trail east. It heads to the north in a little while. 
 Disaster Peak will be right in front of you. "When 
 you get there, pick up a creek ; any one ; they 're all 
 flowin' to the Martin. Coal Creek is the nearest. It 
 hain't over five miles from there down to the head of 
 the water Acklin 's backed up. His lake 's near full 
 already/' 
 
 "And if we get there, then what?" 
 
 "There won't be any if about it. We '11 get there. 
 And when we do, we '11 blow his dam out so pretty 
 he '11 be the rest of his life squaring the damage- 
 suits." 
 
 Blowing up the dam had occurred to the boy, too; 
 but he had found how impossible it was to get near 
 the wall. Bodine's plan was still a closed book to the 
 young Basque. 
 
 "How are you going to get down to the wall from 
 there ? " he asked. ' * You won 't be any better off than 
 trying it from this end." 
 
 "Oh, yes, we will! We won't even try to get near 
 
 the wall. "Say " Bodine's voice dropped to a 
 
 whisper. "If I show you how, will you go through 
 with this? I tell you we can't lose." 
 
 Esteban did not reply at once. Although the 
 future seemed hopeless and the machinations of 
 Acklin had made him desperate, he hung back from 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 209 
 
 making an alliance with Bodine. As he had said, he 
 was not forgetting the past. 
 
 "I won't pass you my word on air," he answered 
 at last. He shook his head. "I won't do it, Bodine. 
 You know why. I '11 do most anything to beat Ack- 
 lin; he 's made a beggar of me. It 's different with 
 you. He has n 't taken anything away from you but 
 a gambling chance that you walked into with your 
 eyes open. I 'm trying to get my own; you 're try- 
 ing to get something for nothing. What you think 
 about that won't change my opinion. " 
 
 Buck swallowed a grin. 
 
 "How do I know but you '11 leave me holding the 
 bag?" Esteban demanded. 
 
 "How do you know?" the big fellow repeated. 
 "Why, I aim to be right there with you when this 
 thing 's pulled off. We '11 only want one more man ; 
 Romero '11 do." 
 
 "Well, you can take me on faith, or forget it." 
 The boy was still cautious. "I won't pass my word 
 until I know what I 'm promising." 
 
 "I '11 go you on that." Bodine was not standing 
 on ceremony. "You get the dynamite. Acklin would 
 spot me afterward if I bought it. You hain't got 
 any on hand, have you?" 
 
 "Six cases or so. My father was getting ready to 
 use it this fall," Esteban answered after searching 
 his companion's face. 
 
 "That's great," Buck shouted enthusiastically. 
 "It 's more than we '11 need. I 11 build a bomb 
 
210 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 that '11 tear a hole in that wall big enough to put 
 an elephant through. "We '11 sneak the powder, and 
 the other stuff we '11 want, up the way I said. We '11 
 make a raft there 's lots of cedars up there and 
 put our little old mine on it. The wind drives down 
 that canon every night. It don't vary five minutes. 
 All we '11 have to do is push her off and she '11 hit 
 the dam. I timed a log one night. I '11 fix the fuse 
 so we '11 be sure, and just to be certain of it, we '11 
 -cover the raft with oil. If it happens to drift down 
 quicker than I figure, the fuse will set the damn 
 thing afire and blow up the works anyhow." 
 
 Esteban's eyes were the only answer Buck needed. 
 He knew he had won before he asked: 
 
 "Well, what do you say now?" 
 
 The boy wiped the perspiration from his brow. 
 His voice faltered as he spoke. 
 
 "Al-1 all right." To himself he murmured an 
 audible "Madre de Dios." There was admiration 
 for Bodine in his blasphemy. "When do we try it?" 
 he anxiously demanded in the next breath. 
 
 "I 'm ready now." Buck was not taking any 
 chances on time. 
 
 "To-morrow night then," Esteban compromised. 
 "I '11 be at your place by noon. Why not go straight 
 north through the buttes? We can make it by way 
 of the hills in two hours. What do you say?" 
 
 "It 's a terrible chance. Morrow will have his 
 riders in the buttes." 
 
 "I '11 draw them away." There was a note of 
 sureness in the boy's voice as he went on. "I '11 send 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 211 
 
 a dozen men up that trail across the peak to-night. 
 They '11 make so much noise Morrow will have his 
 men camping there to-morrow evening. We '11 go 
 through in back of them." 
 
 This was unexpected cleverness of a sort Buck could 
 appreciate. 
 
 "Gosh! That 's smart," he murmured. "You be 
 on time to-morrow." 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 IT was not quite ten o'clock the following morning 
 when Kildare walked My Man to the top of the rise 
 from which he had taken his first look at Paradise 
 Valley. He was on his way to the Bull's Head from 
 Winnemucca. He had taken his long deferred day 
 off to attend to what he had told Morrow was personal 
 business. The roundabout route by which he was 
 returning was due to a promise given the foreman. 
 
 Blaze had kept to himself his knowledge of Bodine's 
 part in the war of reprisals that was being waged. 
 He had no intention of letting the Double A frighten 
 Shorty out of the country. He had waited too long for 
 that ; and when the time was propitious he planned to 
 settle the issue between them strictly by himself. But 
 as he swept his eyes over the desolation that marked 
 the once prosperous Buena Vista, he knew that he 
 could not pass by without attempting to see the girl 
 who had haunted him from the time he had first met 
 her. 
 
 Three long weeks had elapsed since he had spoken 
 to her last. But, as though it had been yesterday, he 
 remembered the curve of her lips and the sadness of 
 her eyes. He could guess what the past weeks must 
 have been to her. That old desire to take her load on 
 his shoulders took possession of him again. It was n't 
 
 212 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 213 
 
 to be, apparently, and yet as he remembered Shorty 
 he wondered if the future might not point a way. 
 
 Blaze had heard nothing of Esteban ; but unless the 
 boy had changed greatly, he could imagine the pitch 
 to which he must be aroused if he had been deceived 
 into believing that Acklin had fired their wool and 
 killed Liotard's sheep. As he sent My Man toward 
 the hacienda, he resolved to try to tell the boy the 
 truth, or at least part of it. 
 
 The sound of a crying child caught his ears as he 
 rode by the open door of the barn. He stopped and 
 called, and Basilio came out, rubbing his face with 
 his sleeve. 
 
 "What 's the matter, little chief?'' he called so- 
 licitously. 
 
 The boy turned his sightless eyes up at him. In 
 spite of his grief and the concern in Kildare's voice, 
 he recognized the man. 
 
 "Come here to me/' Blaze coaxed, as he held down 
 his hand for the child. In a twinkling Basilio was 
 in his arms. "Come on now, what 're all those big 
 tears about?" 
 
 "Esteban has gone to Uncle Peter's," the little tot 
 sobbed, "and he wouldn't let me go along. He 
 would would wouldn't take me." 
 
 "Don't you mind," Blaze consoled him. "It 's a 
 long, hot ride, and Uncle Peter will just about be 
 busy with the haying, so don't you cry, little chief. 
 The water in the Kings is so low you couldn't do 
 any fishin' nohow." 
 
 This last statement carried weight with Basilio. 
 
214 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 By the time Blaze had turned My Man into the patio 
 gate, the child had recovered his smile. 
 
 Mercedes had been aware of Kildare's advent for 
 five minutes or more before Blaze dismounted. A 
 warm glow of happiness enveloped her as she saw 
 him approach. Grief, and the brooding misery of 
 weeks, left her immediately. Yet she held back and 
 trembled at the thought of meeting him. Nervous 
 fingers performed miracles with her beautiful hair. 
 Maidenly modesty bade her lower her eyes, but a flash 
 of the carefree tomboy came back to her as she darted 
 a quick glance into her mirror. There was color in 
 her cheeks for the first time in many days ; a sparkle 
 in her eyes. 
 
 Blaze, with Basilio in his arms, reached the veranda 
 as she came out. Language is useless to convey what 
 they read in each other's eyes. Hat in hand, he stood 
 before her silent. A word would have broken the 
 spell the morning cast over them. 
 
 Kildare saw that she was thinner. A new wistful- 
 ness had crept into her finely carved face. Nor did 
 her smile conceal from him the pensiveness behind 
 her glowing eyes. 
 
 Basilio 's demand to be let down brought back to 
 Blaze a realization of why he was there. He began to 
 say something, but as Mercedes put out her hand and 
 his fingers closed over it he became speechless again. 
 
 Even the embarrassment of this man was precious 
 to her. She caught the sound of the smothered breath 
 unwillingly forced from him as he fought to repress 
 the emotion her slight return of the pressure of his 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 215 
 
 own fingers caused him. What mattered it that the 
 last time they had been together she had humbled 
 him? Youth forgets quickly. 
 
 . The miraculous flight of thought blinds with its 
 swiftness. Mercedes found herself viewing these last 
 few seconds as from a distance. She knew she had 
 forgotten the workaday world with its unhappiness: 
 Acklin, Bodine, never existed; the hacienda drowsed 
 in contentment and prosperity. Why did she have 
 to remember? Why couldn't she go soaring on for- 
 ever in that magic land of romance where all was 
 happiness and kindness and love? 
 
 What a risk he had taken in coming here ! She had 
 seen the temper of her people rising after each fresh 
 outrage, until Mercedes knew that Kildare would for- 
 feit his life if he were caught. Not that her brother 
 would strike him down ; but those others, who had no 
 knowledge of the man and who saw in him only one 
 of Acklin 's men-at-arms. Thought of his danger sent 
 her throat dry. 
 
 "Oh, Senor, you do not know what you do when 
 you come here like this." 
 
 Blaze nodded his head ever so slightly. The risk 
 was worth it. 
 
 ' ' Men like Ortega or Ugarde will kill you on sight. ' ' 
 
 A sudden impulse made Blaze lean toward her. 
 
 * ' I wonder if you 'd care very much if they did get 
 
 net" 
 
 He had won from her the confidence a woman 
 usually gives only to one man; but true to her sex, 
 the thought of being forced into the open filled her 
 
216 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 with alarm. And because in such matters women are 
 so much more the masters of themselves than men, 
 she answered Blaze with a tantalizing laugh that car- 
 ried him back to that day up the river, when she had 
 awakened emotions long dead in him. 
 
 To atone for the confusion she caused him, she 
 added: 
 
 "Of course I would care. You have been kind to 
 me. I told you once I would speak true words to 
 you. But why do you come?" 
 
 "I Ve been into town Winnemucca; some things 
 I had to look after for myself. I kept clear of the 
 valley, but when I looked down from those hills below 
 the river and saw how near I was to the hacienda, I 
 had to risk coming. I wanted to have a talk with 
 Esteban. Basilio tells me he has gone to Kings 
 River." 
 
 "As far as that?" A note of anxiety crept into 
 her voice. "He left without telling me where he was 
 going." 
 
 "He wouldn't take me," the little fellow chirped 
 up. "He said it was too dangerous." 
 
 ' * Dangerous ? ' ' Both Mercedes and Blaze asked the 
 question. 
 
 Basilio repeated his words. The same thought 
 flashed into the minds of both. 
 
 If any danger was attached to Esteban 's trip, it 
 could only be because he was taking a short cut across 
 the Double A country by way of the buttes. 
 
 "He ought to know better than to try that," Blaze 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 217 
 
 said with a shade of annoyance at the boy's foolhardi- 
 ness. ''Did he have a good horse?" 
 
 "He took the blackboard and a team." 
 
 "Why, you can't get through there with a rig. 
 I Ve been over every foot of that country." He 
 pointed to the child, and tapped his lips with his 
 finger as he went on. "He 's going around by the 
 crossing, all right. There 's three or four hundred 
 Indians from the reservation over on the Kings right 
 now, helping with the haying. I guess Esteban was 
 afraid of them." 
 
 Mercedes tried to reward him with a smile, but her 
 misgivings were only aroused the more by what Blaze 
 had said. Basilio did not take kindly to his words 
 either. 
 
 ' ' Injuns ! " he cried sarcastically. " I 'm not afraid 
 of Injuns. Teresa is an Injun. Wish I had a horse 
 of my own." 
 
 Having relieved himself of this weighty statement, 
 the little chap wandered back to the barn. When he 
 was out of hearing, Mercedes appealed to Kildare. 
 
 "What can I do?" she asked. "That is not Este- 
 ban 's habit to go away these days without telling me 
 where he is going. He is not himself any longer. The 
 fire, and all these other things " 
 
 "I understand," Blaze responded. "I wanted to 
 talk to him about that." He paused as if weighing 
 his words. Then : " I Ve never lied to you yet, Mer- 
 cedes. ' ' He had not addressed her quite so intimately 
 before. But even now, in his earnestness, he was not 
 
218 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 aware that he did so. "Will you take my word for 
 this? The Double A has had no hand in these re- 
 prisals. ' ' 
 
 Mercedes's eyebrows lifted at this seeming heresy. 
 
 "I saw Liotard's sheep killed." 
 
 11 You saw it, and did nothing?" 
 
 "There was nothing I could do," Blaze answered 
 her. "I was in the buttes opposite his cabin, but it 
 takes hours to come down and get up to his place. 
 As far as the fire goes, I know there was n't a Double 
 A man in the valley that time of night." 
 
 "But if the Double A is not to blame, who is?" 
 
 "Please," Kildare entreated. "I 'm telling you 
 more than I told Acklin. I can't go any further 
 now. ' ' 
 
 Mercedes was silent in the face of his amazing state- 
 ment. 
 
 "What you say is hard to believe," she murmured 
 at last. "But I do believe you." She trustingly 
 raised her eyes to his. "I am not to be blamed if I 
 seem hard to convince. Senor Acklin has crushed the 
 heart of my people with his scheming. His dam!" 
 she cried scornfully. " It is a monument to his thiev- 
 ing. He is big and strong, and he makes war on the 
 weak and helpless. You know what I say is true." 
 
 Blaze chose neither to deny or affirm her state- 
 ment. 
 
 "At least," he said instead, "the dam was a blow 
 to Bodine's plans. It sure sat him down with a dull 
 thud. But he isn't through yet. You tell Esteban 
 -what I Ve said; but see that he keeps mum about it. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 219 
 
 If I were him, I M stick to Kent. He 's got vision 
 enough to see this thing through. Anyway, I may 
 get in touch with Esteban soon." 
 
 " Don't risk coming again, Seiior," she begged, her 
 quick concern for his safety immediately over- 
 shadowing all thought of her own misery. " It is too 
 dangerous. Even now some one may come at any 
 moment. I know it is best you go." 
 
 Blaze saw her lips tremble. The urge to take her 
 in his arms was great. 
 
 "You 11 go round by the river, won't you 
 please?" she implored further. "Don't go through 
 the valley." 
 
 Kildare turned and held out his hand to My Man ; 
 otherwise he would have been unable to stop the 
 words that were on his tongue. He vaulted into his 
 saddle lightly; Mercedes's eyes followed him. 
 
 "You know," he began, more at ease from the 
 safety of his position, "I said once that I was going 
 to see this thing through. And I 'm taking good care 
 that I 11 be alive to do it. When I mentioned Este- 
 ban it was not only of the fight that I was thinking. 
 Did you ever see that before?" He held out the 
 charm Melody had found. 
 
 No trace of recognition showed in Mercedes's eyes. 
 
 ' 'The man who owned that, ' ' Blaze went on, * ' mur- 
 dered your father." 
 
 "You mean," she gasped, "that you know who 
 did itt" 
 
 "I 'm not giving him a name yet, but I will before 
 I 'm through." 
 
220 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Mercedes bowed her head, her hand against 
 her cheek. Blaze knew the memories that were 
 flooding her mind. His voice grew husky as he went 
 on: 
 
 "I told you the morning we found your father's 
 body that I would stop at nothing in your service. 
 I haven't forgotten. You wonder, I know, why I 
 stay with Acklin. He 's as hard and unrelenting as 
 a steel trap; a throwback from thirty-five years ago 
 when the big cattle-men were all like him. He 's got 
 an evil name well earned, no doubt and with good 
 reason, in that I am in his employ, you find it hard 
 not to suspect me at times. Yet in spite of that I 
 have tried to be a real friend to you. Men have called 
 this valley a desert. But it bloomed once. The fields 
 were green ; flowers fought for your favor here in this 
 patio. Little things sometimes are able to win great 
 good from most hopeless clay. If you ever have cause 
 to think of me, remember that. You know nothing of 
 my past, and my talk tells you little; but I '11 be 
 keeping my word with you. Good-by ! ' ' 
 
 They shook hands. Blaze saw her eyes were misty. 
 My Man had reached the gate when he turned for a 
 last look at her. She was leaning against a pillar of 
 the veranda. He saw her lips tremble. Sweet and 
 low, her words reached him. 
 
 "Good-by, . . . Blaze!" 
 
 Minutes passed as she stood there. Kildare was 
 long out of sight before she sank into a chair, her eyes 
 straining at the distances that lay beyond the Rebel, 
 her ears dulled to ordinary sound. She knew Kildare 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 221 
 
 must be safe in the lower Santa Rosa hills by now. 
 Thoughts of her father hovered in her mind. She 
 wondered why she found Blaze so much like him. 
 
 Suddenly there burst upon her consciousness the 
 mad gallop of a horse. Esteban was coming back! 
 She felt relieved. She became alert, her senses on 
 edge again. The pattering hoofs sounded very near; 
 they seemed to be on the porch itself. Rising, she 
 hurried round the corner of the veranda and came 
 upon Basilio beating out a barbaric rhythm on an 
 abandoned flower-tub. In lieu of drumsticks, he had 
 possessed himself of part of the lid of a box; and, 
 despite sharp nails, the little tot held the sticks in a 
 vise-like grasp. 
 
 " Where you get these things?" Mercedes demanded 
 as she stooped down to take them away. 
 
 "In the barn. Don't take them away," Basilio 
 pleaded. 
 
 "But, wno, they are covered with nails. Feel!" 
 
 As she held out one of the sticks to him, she saw 
 some strange, meaningless marks on it. Something 
 had been stenciled across the box lid, and only the 
 lower part of the letters had been printed on this 
 particular piece of board. Curiosity prompted her 
 to put the two pieces together. Her heart stopped 
 as she read the words they made: "Dynamite 
 Dangerous." 
 
 Catching up her skirts, she fled to the barn. 
 Scattered about on the floor were the remains of half 
 a dozen empty boxes. They had been broken open 
 hurriedly and left without any attempt at conceal- 
 
222 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 ment. Mercedes's eyes widened in horror at the 
 screaming letters printed on their sides and ends. 
 Esteban's going now explained itself. This was why 
 he had not taken Basilio. He was not going to Kings 
 River. Uncle Peter had dynamite of his own for any 
 need he might find. 
 
 Intuition began to leap ahead of the facts as they 
 discovered themselves to her. Kildare had been right. 
 Her brother was not going into the hills with a buck- 
 board. 
 
 She followed the tracks of the wheels until they 
 turned into the dim road that led to the northwest. 
 That way did not lead to town, or to the crossing into 
 the Kings. It went to Webster Creek. 
 
 Webster Creek . . . Bodine! 
 
 A feeling of f aintness crept over her at the thought. 
 Had Esteban made an alliance with that man? Had 
 his evil genius won her brother into some desperate 
 affair that needed dynamite for its accomplishment? 
 
 Ten torturing minutes of worry increased her nerv- 
 ousness until her body rebelled at inaction. Whatever 
 his motive, she was certain that Esteban had gone to 
 Bodine 's ranch. With sudden resolve, she determined 
 to follow him. A word to Teresa about Basilio and 
 she was gone. 
 
 It took her more than two hours to reach the Web- 
 ster place. No one met her as she rode up. She 
 called aloud several times but got no answer. This, 
 and the fact that she had trailed the buckboard right 
 to the ranch yard, only increased her feeling of alarm. 
 
 She sat down to wait. Again inaction assailed her 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 223 
 
 and she began walking up and down the path that led 
 to the barns. Bit by bit she increased the distance 
 she was covering in her excitement, until her horse 
 brought her to the doors of the old building. Her 
 breath left her as she caught sight of the wagon 
 Esteban had driven. A glance showed her it was 
 empty. 
 
 Through an open door in the rear she saw her 
 brother's team in the corral. 
 
 Some of her suspicions became certainties now. 
 Esteban and Bodine were not enemies; they were 
 striking together. He had ridden away on one of 
 Bodine 's horses. The dynamite was gone. Evidently 
 their plans were coming to a climax immediately! 
 
 Mercedes scanned the ground between the barn and 
 the corrals, trying to read signs in the dry sand. She 
 came upon the fresh trail of three horses that led to 
 the north. 
 
 The girl wondered who the third rider was. Her 
 surmising gave her no clue. That it was not Kent 
 she was certain. She unconsciously clenched her 
 teeth at the memory of the promise Esteban had given 
 him. 
 
 A quick glance at the sun told her it was after 
 three o'clock. She hesitated over riding direct to the 
 pass that led to the north, unless the trail of the three 
 horsemen took her there. There was always the 
 chance that they might circle back. Allowing for the 
 time she must lose by following their trail, Mercedes 
 could not hope to reach the buttes before six. 
 
 She did better than that, however. The fresh im- 
 
224 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 print of shod hoofs held clear, and ever to the north. 
 Six o 'clock found her several miles beyond the canon 
 gate. The pace of those she followed had been rapid. 
 Even on the bad footing where the country began to 
 open again, she saw there had been no slackening. 
 
 She pressed on. The sun was down. Two hours 
 at best, and night would be at hand. The thought 
 scourged her to even more reckless riding. If the 
 light failed before she found them, she was beaten. 
 
 Her pinto ate up the miles. There came then a 
 turning to the east. She strained her eyes when her 
 path led into an arroyo already bathed in the gather- 
 ing dusk, so as not to miss the way they had taken. 
 But it never failed her. Always when coming to 
 higher ground she found it before her, stretching 
 away to the east. 
 
 As she rode Mercedes kept continually asking her- 
 self where this trail led. Not bit by bit but with 
 chilling suddenness the truth burst upon her. This 
 continuous pointing to the east had told her at last. 
 
 "The dam!" she cried. "For Dios! They are 
 going to blow up the dam!" 
 
 The muscles of her limbs lost their power to hold 
 her firmly in her saddle. She swayed crazily from 
 side to side as she dashed on. Over and over she kept 
 repeating aloud: "The dam ... the dam." Or if 
 not that, her lips moved in silent prayer that she 
 would be in time to stop her brother. Prison stared 
 him in the face if she failed. 
 
 She pictured the water rushing into the valley ; the 
 stock swept away; houses made into kindling wood, 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 225 
 
 people killed. A mad, wild scream came from her: 
 "Basilio!" 
 
 It was an utterance of agony of soul and mind and 
 body that echoed and reechoed among the brooding 
 peaks. Grief was in it, misery, despair. Even the 
 animal marauders, getting ready for the night's kill, 
 hung back at the sound of it. 
 
 And then, spread there before her, lay the placid 
 water of Acklin 's lake, reflecting the blues and purples 
 of the neighboring mountains. 
 
CHAPTER 
 
 A QUARTER of an hour after Mercedes caught 
 her first glimpse of the lake, she stood at the 
 water's edge. Her eyes swept the shore-line in every 
 direction, but she caught sight of no moving thing. 
 Far away to the south the top of the wall that held 
 back the water showed a low gray streak against the 
 horizon. 
 
 No trace of the men she pursued had been left on 
 the rocky land where she stood. She rode an ever- 
 enlarging semi-circle in the hope of picking up their 
 trail. Half an hour 's patient work rewarded her with 
 clear-cut hoof -prints in the sand to the north. The 
 horses that made them were going in that direction, 
 too. 
 
 Her tedious progress took from her the last bit of 
 strength she possessed. But had she been able to 
 double her pace, she would have hardly caught up 
 with her brother. 
 
 Neither he nor Bodine had stopped once in their 
 wild ride from Webster Creek to peer back for pos- 
 sible pursuit. Romero had attended to that on his 
 own initiative. But they had been nearly two hours 
 ahead of Mercedes. With ease that surprised even 
 Buck, they had cut through Acklin's country as they 
 had planned. 
 
 226 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 227 
 
 Esteban had reached the little cove below Coal 
 Creek by the time his sister had turned into the 
 eastern leg of their trail. His companions were right 
 behind him. Bodine gave the orders from then on. 
 
 With expert hands, he crumbled the dynamite and 
 heated it. While he was getting the grease that he 
 wanted, Romero and Esteban fashioned the raft that 
 was to carry their instrument of destruction. Buck 
 was ready as soon as they were. Each one of them 
 had come in loaded down with material to supplement 
 the iron and steel Buck had already cached for the 
 bomb. 
 
 Esteban wondered at the big fellow 's deftness as 
 he watched him work. 
 
 He nailed an eight-foot cedar sapling spar-fashion 
 at the end of the raft, and on this he looped and wired 
 his long, slow-burning fuse. 
 
 "Pour the oil over the front of it now/' he com- 
 manded when he had finished. ' t Once this fuse burns 
 down to it, she 11 blaze up like a house afire. " 
 
 Esteban flung his empty can into the water. 
 
 "Nothin' more to do now but wait for the wind, 
 light a match, and push her off/' said Buck. 
 
 "It 11 be better than half an hour before the wind 
 comes/' Romero stated. 
 
 Buck smiled. He knew the signs. The boy had 
 been nervous all the way. The big fellow looked at 
 Esteban. He was silent, brooding. Any thought of 
 personal danger had long since left him. The near 
 approach of the minute that would see the valley 
 freed from Acklin's grasp had sobered him. 
 
228 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 He thought of Mercedes and his little blind brother. 
 It was for them he had done this thing. His father 
 was gone ; but at least an Arrascada had led his people 
 to victory. There was a certain satisfaction in that. 
 
 "What a pretty sight that dam will be for smooth 
 Mr. Acklin to-morrow/' Bodine said facetiously. He 
 spread out his hands piously. * ' Well, you can 't make 
 an omelet without breakin ' an egg, can you ? Acklin 's 
 our egg. It wouldn't surprise me none to see this 
 little hand-made lake change the whole map of the 
 valley. It '11 rip things up a-plenty as it tears along. ' ' 
 
 * ' We ain 't going to drown no one, are we ? " Romero 
 demanded. His people would be right in the path 
 of the flood. 
 
 Esteban jumped to his feet. 
 
 "That 's so, Bodine. Is there water enough here 
 to do that?" 
 
 For once Buck could be honest. 
 
 ' ' You bet there is ! " he cried. ' ' This water 's goin ' 
 to drop about a thousand feet in seven miles. That '11 
 give it a kick that '11 tear the hinges right off the old 
 barn-door. ' ' He turned a cold eye on his companions. 
 "You boys don't mean you overlooked that, do you?" 
 
 Their blanched faces were answer enough. 
 
 "That 's a fine thing to pull at this gasping last," 
 the big man growled. "Did you think we were goin 1 
 to send out invitations to your friends advertisin' 
 this thing?" He pointed to the raft. "This ain't 
 no time to think about buildin' arks." 
 
 "You 're too funny, Bodine," Esteban ripped back 
 at him. "I tell you this thing is all off!" 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 229 
 
 "Who says so?" 
 
 "I do!" 
 
 Esteban beat him to the nearest rifle. 
 
 1 ' Put that gun down ; it 's loaded, ' ' Buck said care- 
 lessly. 
 
 "You heard me," the boy's tense face did not 
 relax. "I tell you this thing's off!" 
 
 Bodine began to believe him. 
 
 "You don't mean it?" 
 
 "I mean it all right, Bodine. My people are 
 down there! The Rancho will get it worse than 
 any other place. This deal is off until I get them 
 out." 
 
 "I ain 't got no objection to that, ' ' he cried. ' ' Get 
 'em out! It won't take three of us to push this 
 raft off. You two beat it back and get your folks 
 away. I '11 stay here." 
 
 "Oh, no, you won't." Esteban did not raise his 
 voice. "I 'm not takin' any chance on you. Once 
 we got out of sight you 'd let her go, and get out of 
 here on the jump. I '11 be stayin'!" 
 
 "That suits me! But listen; don't you lose your 
 nerve in these God-awful hills when we 're gone. 
 I '11 bust you if it 's the last thing I do if you double- 
 cross me." 
 
 "That goes two ways, Bodine! You fail me, and 
 I '11 kill you in spite of hell. Romero, you go with 
 him as far as his ranch. He '11 take you there; if 
 he pulls a gun on you, plug him. I '11 wait until the 
 moon comes up before I shove off the raft. You '11 
 have plenty of time to make it. You get Mercedes 
 
230 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 and Basilio into the hills. God have mercy on you 
 if you don't. You better get along now." 
 
 They walked to their horses. Romero waited for 
 Bodine to move ahead. Buck stopped for a brief 
 word. 
 
 "You be on the level with me to-night, Arrascada, 
 and I '11 be square with you. I '11 see that the 
 Sefiorita and the kid are all right." 
 
 Esteban watched without moving until they were 
 out of sight. Before him were the longest hours of 
 his life. In various ways he tried to beguile himself 
 into believing that all was well. As time went on, 
 his torture increased ; but the agony he was enduring 
 was as nothing compared to the suffering of the girl 
 who was searching for him. 
 
 The long twilight had faded at last ; and with the 
 suddenness of a drawn curtain, darkness closed down 
 upon the hushed world. The night sounds of the 
 wild beat against her ears with the passing of an 
 hour. Her pony stumbled repeatedly. 
 
 She determined to leave the horse behind. Re- 
 moving his bridle, she left him to wander home as best 
 he could. The pinto whinnied as she moved away in 
 the blackness. 
 
 Her dress was soon torn to tatters; her limbs 
 scratched and bleeding. More than once she missed 
 her footing and came crashing down on jagged stumps 
 or sharp roots. 
 
 The last time this happened she felt her ankle, and 
 her hand came up wet with blood. Mercedes lay 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 231 
 
 where she had fallen, waiting for the strength to 
 rise. She listened in vain for the murmur of the 
 water. She was lost! She wanted to cry out; but 
 she opened her mouth the first time, and no sound 
 came. With supreme courage she forced herself to 
 her feet. She tried calling again, and this time her 
 voice rang out among the trees. The sound of it 
 reassured her. She repeated her cry. It hung on in 
 the stillness. 
 
 To the girl it was an eternity before the moon 
 peered through the tops of the tangled cedars. Trees 
 and brush began to take shape. Mercedes went on. 
 She found a tiny spring trickling to her right. She 
 wet her lips with its water and followed its course. 
 Soon she caught the beat of waves. She had come 
 out to the shore of the lake. She cried out with new 
 courage. Her voice rolled over the water to the cove 
 where her brother lay. 
 
 Esteban jumped at the sound of it. He had 
 already waited long past the appointed time to send 
 the raft adrift. The echo of that cry in the awful 
 stillness decided him to tarry no longer. He cupped 
 his hands to his lighted match, and the long fuse 
 began to sputter. The wind at his back was strong 
 and steady. A healthy push, and the raft with its 
 deadly load floated away across the silvery water. 
 
 He did not wait to speculate on the success of its 
 errand. He had had hours of that. Before long he 
 was dashing for the buttes, intent only on reaching 
 the valley. 
 
232 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 His going brought no sound to the girl. The moon 
 had given her her bearings, and keeping ever within 
 sight of the lake, she stumbled to the north, dragging 
 her tired body to new tortures. A glowing pin-point 
 of fire moving across the water caught her attention. 
 Its even, unhurried flight fascinated her. It was 
 beautiful, unreal, ghostly. But as she watched it, the 
 raft moved out of the shadows of the opposite shore 
 into the full light of the moon. 
 
 She knew what it was then, even before the wind 
 had sent it close enough to make recognition possible. 
 The truth left her strangely unmoved. She even 
 found herself admiring the cleverness of the men who 
 were responsible for it. They had schemed well to 
 beat Acklin ! The never-halting approach of the raft, 
 the black bulk of the mine rising from its surface, 
 the glowing fuse held aloft as if it were a light at a 
 masthead, brought no cry from her lips. This was 
 the thing she had come to stop. 
 
 It came so close to her that she could hear the 
 sputtering of the fuse. An eddy or a whim of the 
 wind caught the raft then and sent it away from the 
 shore. She could not swim a stroke. Just what she 
 intended to do she did not know; but she knew she 
 could never reach it, riding along as it was, fifty 
 yards from the bank. She found, however, that she 
 kept abreast of it as she followed the margin of the 
 lake toward the dam. 
 
 This was all very well for a time, but as she came to 
 a cove that cut back into the hills she began to 
 despair. By the time she had got around it, the 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 233 
 
 raft would be far ahead. But without looking back 
 she started on the attempt. She had not made more 
 than half of the way, when she darted a glance at 
 the moving raft. Her breath actually stopped for an 
 instant at what she beheld. If it had been a liner 
 making port the raft could not have turned more 
 accurately and headed more directly for the little 
 cove on the shore of which she stood. Mercedes ran 
 towards it. She saw its speed slacken. Then came 
 a second when it seemed to stand still. The next 
 minute the current was moving it back into the lake. 
 
 Without stopping to ask herself what she would do, 
 or how she would get back to the land, if she were 
 once on the raft, she jumped for it. The force with 
 which she landed was impetus enough to send it 
 bobbing through the water until the cove was yards 
 behind her. 
 
 Mercedes knelt on the logs before she rose to her 
 feet, not in prayer or in fear of tipping over. She 
 was asking herself what she could do. The fuse 
 sputtered on above her. The sound of it began to 
 break in on her consciousness. It came to her then; 
 the fuse; that was it! To pull it down and stamp 
 out the spark of fire that was slowly devouring it. 
 
 No longer did the raft alter its course. It was 
 free from the trees and hills, and heading straight 
 and sure for its appointed destination. She caught 
 hold of the rope-like thing with its glowing end of 
 fire and pulled and strained with such force that the 
 little tree came crashing down across the raft. The 
 girl tried to let go, but she was too late ; the sapling 
 
234 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 fell with a thud, and she rolled to the edge of the logs, 
 her fingers digging into the bark as she sprawled over 
 them. 
 
 She scrambled to her feet and with her boot-heel 
 ground the coal into ashes. Her damp hair had 
 fallen about her. She brushed it back from her eyes. 
 She felt cold, numbed, in this minute of relaxation. 
 
 She lurched toward the center of the logs, her arms 
 lowered to help herself to a sitting position, when a 
 scream was wrung from her. The glowing coal that 
 she had stamped into the cedar was gone, but in its 
 place rose a blaze a foot high! 
 
 A little trickle of oil had seeped back to where she 
 had crunched the end of the fuse. The wind had 
 fanned an unseen spark to life. 
 
 What a fool's paradise she had dwelt in for that 
 short few minutes! For the first time she noticed 
 the oil that covered the front end of the raft. 
 
 Mercedes eyed the bulking mine. It looked too big 
 for her to move; but she had to attempt it. She 
 planted her feet firmly on the oil-soaked raft, and 
 tugged, and pushed, and shoved ; but the bomb would 
 not budge. 
 
 The flames were mounting higher and higher, 
 sending out greedy tongues that licked at her body. 
 In a rage of helpless impotence, she raised her torn 
 hands and struck and beat the iron thing before her. 
 The cuts on her knuckles and fingers bled afresh, but 
 she was fast losing the power to feel pain. Salty 
 tears ran into the corners of her mouth. From her 
 lips came a wild, almost insane cry. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 235 
 
 The dam was near ! Awfully near ! 
 
 She called again, but it was unintelligible. The 
 word she sought to utter was "Blaze!" If he were 
 only here ! He was so strong ; so brave ! She called 
 for him once more. There was no one to answer her. 
 
 The end could not be long delayed. This was 
 death ! But she raised unafraid eyes to heaven. That 
 she closed them was only because the spirit of her was 
 reaching out for the man she loved. 
 
CHAPTER XXYIII 
 
 ESTEBAN was coming to the higher ground where 
 his trail turned to the south when he heard a 
 horse whinny. He had to put his hat over his mount 's 
 nose to keep him from answering. The other horse 
 called again; nearer this time. The boy did not 
 wait. He wheeled and galloped back over the path he 
 had just come from. When he had retraced his way 
 some two miles, he turned to scan the lake far below 
 him. His pulse jumped as he caught sight of the 
 flaming logs; now so near the dam that from where 
 he watched it seemed they must strike any minute. 
 What had gone wrong? What had set them afire? 
 Had his companions been caught by the Double A 
 men? 
 
 Esteban moved higher up to wait for the explosion. 
 In the confusion resulting from it he intended to make 
 another dash for Webster Creek. No matter where 
 Romero and Bodine were, they must be counting the 
 seconds even as he. 
 
 And while he waited the Double A men, from Dis- 
 aster Peak to the Bull's Head, kept their watch, un- 
 aware of the danger that was sweeping down upon 
 them. Kildare alone, of all Acklin's riders, moved 
 nervously about. Blaze" had not forgotten his talk 
 that morning with Mercedes. Esteban 's mysterious 
 
 236 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 237 
 
 trip, coupled with Morrow's belief that trouble was 
 brewing, seemed to argue more than mere coincidence. 
 
 He was within a quarter of a mile of the water when 
 he caught the first dim reflection of the burning raft. 
 From where he stood the fire seemed to be on the other 
 side of the canon. He could not see the lake itself, 
 but the faint red tinge in the sky moved. By that he 
 knew that something was burning on the water. There 
 wasn't timber of any sort east of the dam. He sent 
 My Man into a gallop. 
 
 Long before he came within sight of the lake the 
 reflection in the sky had deepened to red. The fire 
 could not be a long way ahead. Far off, faint, he 
 heard a shot. As the muffled report died away, he 
 thought he heard a cry, a drawn-out scream. He 
 released the safety-catch on his rifle. His horse 
 fairly flew over the last hundred yards. He flung 
 himself from his saddle at the brink of the canon. 
 The blazing raft was opposite him, lighting up the 
 water for yards. 
 
 In kaleidoscopic fashion he saw the mine; the pet- 
 rified girl shielding her face from the flames ; the dam 
 twenty yards away. He cupped his hands, and called 
 to her. 
 
 Mercedes uncovered her face and looked up at him 
 with wild, unseeing eyes. So great was the horror 
 that transfixed her features that Kildare failed to 
 recognize her at first. She turned her head slightly, 
 and then he knew. 
 
 He did not stop to ask how she came there. He 
 only saw the leaping flames, and guessed the intent 
 
238 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 of the black thing that bulked on the surface of the 
 raft. 
 
 Nothing could save the dam. It was doomed! A 
 minute or two, and it would be all over. Jumping 
 to her rescue would not help. If he ran out on the 
 dam both of them would be killed or swept away and 
 drowned. 
 
 He called to Mercedes; but she barely moved her 
 head. Blaze called again. That voice! It seemed 
 to come from leagues away; a phantom voice! 
 
 Kildare saw that she did not move. He cried out 
 again. The wind whipped the sound of it behind him. 
 But the girl looked up. She saw him and raised her 
 hands. Blaze jerked his reata from his saddle-horn 
 and ran to the very edge of the bank. 
 
 "Take off your skirt, " he cried, "and wet it and 
 wrap it around you. Catch my rope when it drops/' 
 
 Mercedes nodded her head. 
 
 The raft was within ten feet of the dam as his reata 
 began to play through his fingers. 
 
 Seconds they are hours sometimes were droning 
 "by as his rope circled lower and lower. There would 
 never be time for another trial. He had to make it 
 now ! There was no room for a miss. 
 
 An instant brief; life seemed to stop. Kildare 
 blinked his eyes to clear them of the film that blinded 
 him. Seconds were moving at express-train speed; 
 yet even so, meaningless, irrelevant thoughts pre- 
 sented themselves in their entirety. Nothing seemed 
 hurried. He had thrown his rope. In quite its ac- 
 customed way, it leaped out. He watched it now. It 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 239 
 
 was dropping. The girl's hands were still upraised. 
 The rope was falling over them. It was at her waist. 
 He was pulling then. It was subconscious effort! 
 
 A scream rose from Mercedes; she shot away from 
 the raft. He could look down and see the water cas- 
 cading over her as he dragged her through it. 
 
 He heard the raft bump the dam. Some one was 
 calling ; Chet or Melody, no doubt. A second in 
 which to brace his feet ; and hand over hand he began 
 paying in his reata, lifting her to safety. She was half" 
 way to the top of the ragged wall when Kildare felt 
 rather than heard a snap. His hands tingled. He had 
 been dragging his rope over the ledge, using the rock 
 for leverage. One of the strands of the finely woven 
 reata had given way cut in two by the jagged quartz. 
 
 His arms trembled. There was nothing to do but 
 risk the chance that the unraveling reata would hold. 
 He leaned out over the water until Mercedes was a 
 dead weight on him, and pulled. Another strand 
 broke, but he had raised her to the top. His hands 
 caught her arms; a last lift, and she was beside him. 
 
 Then it came, without warning a trembling of 
 the earth. Thunder rolled in his ears. The dam was 
 gone. They were down, knocked flat ! My Man went 
 to his knees. Pieces of rock, from the size of a pea to 
 big, jagged fragments of granite that would have 
 killed had they struck, rained about them. Water 
 splashed down in sheets. 
 
 Men were coming. There were sounds of horses, and 
 voices that pierced the bellowing roar of the water as 
 it sucked through the gaping hole in the wall. 
 
240 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Mercedes did not move. Kildare rolled her over 
 and over. The girl 's body was cold ; her pulse seemed 
 to have stopped. Blaze slapped her, and beat her 
 with the flat of his hands. He continually raised her 
 arms to expand her lungs. 
 
 Circulation began again in Mercedes's body. A 
 tremor passed over her as she gasped for air. She 
 began to live ! Her head was in Kildare 's arms, her 
 back propped against his knee. He continued to 
 watch her. She behaved as if she was sleeping. 
 Blaze brushed the wet hair from her face with his 
 hand. Gently he caressed her white forehead. 
 
 He felt her stir ; a second, and she opened her eyes. 
 Mercedes refused to believe what she saw. She lifted 
 her hand slowly and felt the man beside her. He ivas 
 real then ! 
 
 She uttered his name : ' ' Blaze ! " It was a whisper. 
 Unconsciously her fingers searched for his. The feel 
 of his hand seemed to give her peace. Her eyelids 
 closed, and she slept. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 WHILE Blaze knelt with Mercedes in his arms on 
 the brink of the canon, the roaring below them 
 grew in violence. Grinding, screeching, the rush- 
 ing water was ripping the hole, through which it 
 was pouring, into an ever-widening gap. The concrete 
 was still green. It had set well enough to hold back 
 the placid water, but against this flood it was help- 
 less. One block would give way, and bring its neigh- 
 bors tumbling down with it. The titanic force, sweep- 
 ing by, caught -them up as if they had been marbles 
 and hurled them into the valley. 
 
 The moon revealed the foaming, angry flood as it 
 spread out over the country below. It was like an 
 ocean. Not a tree or stick was left standing. If 
 Brother Jones or any of the boys had been caught 
 down there they were lost. Nothing could have lived 
 in the face of that torrent. The water was dropping 
 rapidly in the lake. Fifteen minutes and it would be 
 dry. 
 
 From the bank across the canon somebody called 
 him. It was Melody; good old Melody! Blaze an- 
 swered him. He must have heard, for he did not 
 cry out again. Acklin and many others would be 
 there soon. He looked down at Mercedes. Her eyes 
 
 241 
 
242 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 were wide open, staring at him. Her lips essayed a 
 smile in response to his own. He stroked her fore- 
 head tenderly. 
 
 "Don 't talk till you feel strong enough, " he sug- 
 gested. "The dam is gone. There '11 be water in 
 Paradise Valley to-night. " Blaze smiled wisely: 
 "We 11 be able to leave here soon. Are you still 
 cold?" 
 
 Mercedes shook her head. 
 
 "I tried to save the dam/' she murmured slowly. 
 "Basilio ... he 's down there." 
 
 "You trailed Esteban, eh?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 "The little chief may be all right," Blaze lied, won- 
 dering how Esteban could have failed to think of his 
 brother and sister. "The water will be spread out 
 long before it gets to the hacienda." 
 
 Mercedes tried to sit up. 
 
 "You 're not hurt?" Kildare asked. 
 
 "Just tired . . . very tired, Blaze. What will hap- 
 pen to Esteban now?" 
 
 "Let the others ask that. You keep still," he 
 warned. "Some one ' coming now. It '11 be Acklin, 
 too." 
 
 It was the Big Boss. Skip and a dozen others were 
 with him. The fury of the man suggested the onrush 
 of the angry waters through the gorge. At first he 
 saw only Kildare. 
 
 "What did it?" he shouted. "A bomb?" 
 
 His quick-acting brain had sensed an invasion of 
 his empire that even the courts could not repair. He 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 243 
 
 was off his horse in advance of his men and striding 
 toward Blaze when he saw Mercedes. 
 
 "What 's she doing here?" he bellowed. Without 
 giving him time to answer, he yelled : * ' You saw her ! 
 What was she up to?" 
 
 Blaze got to his feet. 
 
 "She was doin' the best she could to save the dam," 
 he drawled ominously. 
 
 Mercedes spoke for the first time. 
 
 "I was too late," she half whispered. "Too late 
 to save even my little brother." 
 
 The men gathered close about her, hanging on her 
 words. Acklin felt himself outside the circle of sym- 
 pathy. He turned and stared at the remains of the 
 dam that had been his life's dream. Some one would 
 pay for that! 
 
 The lake was almost empty. Two men waded their 
 horses across it and circled round until they were 
 up with the others. It was Brother Jones and Melody 
 with their questions. 
 
 Skip had produced a flask, and Blaze doled out 
 the stimulant to the girl. Her face lost its white- 
 ness. 
 
 "Guess we better get you back to the Rancho now," 
 he suggested. 
 
 Acklin overheard him. 
 
 "This is a job for the sheriff," he snarled. "She 's 
 going to the Bull's Head." 
 
 The crowd caught the clash of wills. 
 
 Blaze saw Melody. They exchanged a glance. 
 
 * ' You misunderstood me slightly. ' ' Kildare 's tones 
 
244 WHISPEKING SAGE 
 
 were too sweet, too even. ' ' I said that she was going 
 home, ' ' he went on. 
 
 Acklin should have known better than to continue 
 this, but he was blind with rage over his loss. He 
 refused to be warned. He raised his hand to Skip. 
 
 "Do what I tell you/' he cried. "Take her to the 
 Bull's Head. I 'm still givin' the orders here." He 
 reached for his revolver. 
 
 Skip started to move, but he took only a step. Kil- 
 dare's guns covered the crowd. 
 
 ' i Throw up your hands, all of you ! " he rasped out. 
 * * I '11 bust the first one that moves. This is once when 
 I give the orders. You got a horse, Melody?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "I Ve heard him called that." 
 
 "Get her home then. I 'm telling you! Don't 
 look anywhere else." 
 
 Blaze turned to the girl. 
 
 "You go with Melody. He J ll get you to the 
 Bancho." 
 
 Acklin saw the look that passed between Kildare 
 and her before she followed the red-haired one to his 
 horse. 
 
 "She 's pretty sweet on you, ain 't she, the 
 damned " 
 
 "I 'd never finish that remark if I were you, Ack- 
 lin." 
 
 The Big Boss hesitated. The girl was gone before 
 Blaze spoke again. 
 
 "All right, boys. You can take them down," he 
 said slowly. * ' Thanks for obliging that way. ' ' 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 245 
 
 He dropped his guns as he spoke to Acklin. 
 
 "I've worn myself thin for your outfit. Things 
 have been going on that I did n't savvy. But I did n't 
 ask any questions. I could quit if I did n 't like it. I 
 guess I'm through now. I suppose I '11 be getting 
 my pay in the morning. " 
 
 Acklin glared at Kildare. His expression changed 
 as he told him what Mercedes had done. The girl's 
 daring won muttered approval from the men. 
 
 "If I 've lost my job," Blaze went on, "you 11 
 not hear a peep from me. But I want to tell you she 
 took a chance to save your dam that you wouldn 't have 
 taken. Her kid brother's down there in the valley. 
 Maybe he 's been drowned. You don't think she 
 would have left him there if she had come here to 
 blow up this thing, do you?" 
 
 Ackiin walked back and forth for a minute or two 
 before answering. 
 
 "You may be right," he growled at last. "I aim 
 to find out, though. If she wasn't in this deal, her 
 brother was. She 'd never been here, otherwise. He 
 wasn't alone, either. I '11 never believe that a kid 
 like Esteban could make a bomb good enough to blow 
 that wall out." 
 
 The big cow-man returned to his pacing back and 
 forth, as indication that the incident was closed for 
 the time being. The men stood about uneasily, won- 
 dering what they would do next. Acklin did not usu- 
 ally keep them waiting for orders. Brother Jones 
 spoke to Blaze. Several others joined them. 
 
 With modesty peculiar to men of his type, Blaze 
 
246 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 said little of his rescue of Mercedes. Skip and the 
 other boys were equally reticent in commenting on it, 
 but they understood. It was the cow-boy code. 
 
 Acklin had been drawn back to his scrutinizing of 
 the wrecked wall. So far no definite plan of action, 
 had evolved in his mind. His foreman must have 
 heard the explosion and must be on the way to his 
 side. Looking across the canon, he saw a rider sil- 
 houetted against the sky. His first thought was that 
 it was Morrow. 
 
 "Hello, there 1" the other called. "That you, 
 Double AT' 
 
 It was Chet Devine. Acklin answered him. 
 
 "Come on over here," the man shouted. "I got 
 the bird that did this trick." 
 
 "Who is he?" the Big Boss demanded. 
 
 "I don't know. He 's hidin' between here and the 
 cedars. He 's badly wounded." 
 
 By the time they had made the descent to the valley 
 and climbed up to the high plateau on which Chet 
 waited, some of Morrow's men from the peak had 
 arrived. Cash himself had not yet shown up. Acklin 
 left Patterson behind t6 wait for him. 
 
 Leaving their horses when they neared the trees, 
 the men spread out and began beating the brush. 
 Moving in an unbroken line they advanced toward the 
 spot that had been the shore of the lake. They had 
 come within sight of it without discovering any one 
 when a voice cried out to them : ' ' Come on ! I 'm 
 done." 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 247 
 
 They saw him then leaning against the trunk of a 
 tree. It was Esteban. He had dragged himself to 
 the tree against which he now rested. From there he 
 had watched the water go shooting past him. He had 
 a smile on his face when they reached him. Acklin 
 recognized him first. 
 
 "So it 's you, eh?" he questioned. "I 'm not sur- 
 prised." 
 
 ' * I did n 't think you would be, ' ' the boy answered 
 with a grin. 
 
 Blaze came up at that. Esteban stared at him. 
 
 " Hello, Kildare," he smiled. 
 
 The cow-boy shook his head sadly. The thing he 
 had feared had happened. The young fellow seemed 
 to read his thoughts. His smile never deserted him, 
 however. 
 
 "Koll me a smoke, will you?" he asked. 
 
 Blaze made a cigarette for him and put it in his 
 mouth. By the light of the flaring match he saw the 
 boy's condition. 
 
 "You're hurt bad, eh?" 
 
 "I 'in going out this time, all right. But I have n't 
 got any kick." He turned his eyes on the Big Boss. 
 "I wanted to beat you once just once. I guess I got 
 my wish." 
 
 "Your pals will get their wish, too," the big cattle- 
 man replied meaningly. 
 
 "That's talk, Acklin. Just talk! This was my 
 party. I got the dynamite for the job. I made the 
 raft. And I sent it adrift." 
 
248 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "Oh, no, you didn't!" It was Morrow who spoke. 
 He had been there for a minute, unnoticed. "You 
 didn't make the mine that did this job. You ain't 
 smart enough." 
 
 His men fell back as the foreman advanced to 
 Esteban's side. 
 
 "We got the fellow that bossed this job. Caught 
 him over in the buttes. Bodine is the man!" 
 
 And Romero ? Had they caught him, too ? The boy 
 had to risk a question. 
 
 "You got him with you, have yuh?" 
 
 Cash grinned. 
 
 "He '11 be here directly. And the other one, too." 
 Cash didn't risk another name. Esteban didn't no- 
 tice that. His heart sank. Evidently Cash was not 
 bluffing. 
 
 "Mercedes . . . Basilio!" Esteban groaned. His 
 head fell forward on his chest. Blaze put his arm 
 around him. In a few words he told the boy about 
 his sister. 
 
 "But Basilio?" Esteban cried so that all heard. 
 "Bodine promised to get him out in time." 
 
 He reached up and pulled Kildare's ear down close 
 to his mouth. "You look out for her, will you? Tell 
 her that I tried to get word to her and the baby." 
 
 "Buck up," Blaze pleaded. "You 're not going 
 out." 
 
 "Hang on to me," the boy begged. "I 'm choking. 
 I '11 be gone in just a minute." 
 
 His head fell forward. The little circle of men 
 grew quiet. Blaze put his ear to the boy's heart. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 249 
 
 "He 's not dead," he breathed hopefully. "Some- 
 body get my horse. I 'm going to get him to a doc- 
 tor. God knows, he may have a chance. ' ' 
 
 Acklin said nothing as his men helped Kildare. 
 
 "Where 've you got Bodine?" he demanded when 
 Blaze had left. 
 
 "Got him?" Cash questioned. "I ain't got him 
 nowhere." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "No. I ain't seen Bodine. I was just runnin' a 
 windy on the kid. I picked up the fresh trail of 
 three horses this evening. They, had come in from 
 Webster Creek. I 've been chasin' back and forth 
 tryin' to pick 'em up in the dark, or I 'd 'a' been 
 here sooner." 
 
 "What made you think Bodine was among them?" 
 
 "Shucks! You don't think there's anyone else 
 down there with the nerve or brains to do this thing. 
 It took an old hand to make a mine that would rip 
 out that wall. I knew that boy could n 't have done it 
 alone. My talk was all bluff, but it worked. Bodine 
 was behind the whole thing." 
 
 ' l Who do you think was the third man ? ' ' 
 
 Cash shook his head. 
 
 "I ain't even got a guess." 
 
 Acklin contorted his mouth nervously. 
 
 "No matter," he said after an interval. "We 11 
 make Bodine tell before we get through. "We '11 all 
 ride to the ranch first. I 'm going to turn out every 
 man we 've got, Cash. We '11 throw a circle over this 
 country that no one '11 crawl through. If we pick 
 
250 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 up Bodine, lie 11 be among the dear departed by 
 morning. ' ' 
 
 Morrow's eyes bulged. 
 
 "You mean you 're goin' to stretch him?" he 
 gasped. 
 
 "That 's exactly what I mean," Acklin growled. 
 
 "He 's got it comin' to him all right." Cash raised 
 his arm. "Come on, boys, let 's ride. We 're goin' 
 to organize!" 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 BODINE had relieved Romero of the responsibility 
 of getting Mercedes and Basilio out of the path 
 of the flood. Finding Mercedes gone, Buck picked 
 up the child and dashed for Webster Creek. The ex- 
 plosion came as he entered the ranch-house. 
 
 Shorty, lantern in hand, followed him inside. 
 
 "Guess we had company this afternoon," he 
 growled. "A lady at that!" 
 
 Taking Shorty's lantern, the big fellow followed 
 the trail Esteban and Romero and he had taken that 
 afternoon. A few minutes' search convinced him 
 that his supposition was correct; Mercedes had fol- 
 lowed them into the hills! Her only object could 
 have been to stop them. Well, she had been too late, 
 or had missed her brother altogether. With that for 
 a basis on which to build, Buck was not long in set- 
 tling upon what he wanted to do. 
 
 For months he had been trying to inveigle Mer- 
 cedes to his place. He had the means to compel her 
 to come now. Whether she had met Esteban or not, 
 the explosion must have sent her dashing back to the 
 Rancho as quickly as she could go. Her brother 
 would never risk taking that shorter way. The girl 
 would be there hours before Esteban arrived ! 
 
 It was the work of a minute for him to pen a note 
 
252 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 to her. To prove his point with the girl, he made 
 the child scrawl an attempt at his name across the 
 bottom of the note. This accomplished, he sent Shorty 
 to deliver it. 
 
 Gloomy and the others lounged about the room. 
 
 Webster Creek was running about half full, prov- 
 ing that the flood had torn away the barrier they had 
 built to keep the water out of the Rebel. That was 
 all right as far as Buck was concerned. If he con- 
 tinued to get as much as old man Webster had had 
 before nature turned things topsyturvy, the ranch 
 was worth a small fortune. 
 
 Basilio, in the next room, began crying. 
 
 ' 'Somebody shut that kid up," Buck bellowed. 
 
 Speculation as to Acklin's discomfiture had worn 
 itself out. Gloomy yawned. One of the others got up. 
 
 " Guess I '11 turn in. The show's over." 
 
 Buck had done his share of the talking in the time 
 that had elapsed since Shorty left, but his nimble 
 brain had been busy with matters alien to the con- 
 versation. His men were surprised, therefore, when 
 he said : 
 
 "Boys, I don't think you 'd better roost here to- 
 night." 
 
 "We might scare the lady, eh?" Gloomy questioned. 
 
 "Don't you worry 'bout the lady," Buck said 
 easily. ' ' She don 't enter into it at all. " As a matter 
 of truth, Mercedes's coming was in part responsible 
 for Bodine 's desire to get his men away. 
 
 * ' We 11 have visitors before morning, ' ' he went on ; 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 253 
 
 "and they won't be ladies. Even if those two boys 
 keep their mouths shut, Acklin may get the hunch that 
 we were mixed up in this thing. I '11 bet his men are 
 scourin' the hills right now. If they come here, Mor- 
 row might trip some of you boys. If I 'm alone, there 
 won't be anybody to do the answerin' but me. Drift 
 into the hills in back of old Liotard's place. Shorty '11 
 be along. If I build a fire to-morrow morning, come 
 in. It '11 be all right. You better saddle up." 
 
 Buck fanned the coals in the kitchen stove into a 
 tiny blaze when they had gone. Next he filled the 
 coffee-pot. "When he had set it on the fire, he propped 
 up his chair and fell to dreaming. 
 
 It had been an eventful day for him. He had paid 
 Acklin in full for his double-crossing; there was 
 water in Webster Creek once more ; and on top of it, 
 here was Shorty, bringing him the sweetest morsel 
 of all. 
 
 He flashed a glance at his watch. It was nearly 
 two. Shorty ought to be coming soon. This calcula- 
 tion, however, was wide of the mark. He had for- 
 gotten the impassable roads and the water-soaked 
 flats over which the man had to travel. 
 
 Shorty had not yet reached the Rancho. Buck had 
 sent him with a team and a light wagon, with instruc- 
 tions to take the short cut east of the cemetery in 
 Paradise. But he had been turned back and had 
 followed the main road to Winnemucca almost to the 
 Little Washoe 'before he dared to strike eastward to 
 the hacienda. 
 
254 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Mercedes and Melody had met with, similar condi- 
 tions. After several unsuccessful attempts to get 
 across the valley, the poet had found it necessary to 
 retrace their way and get into the hills, where they 
 had found the old wood road that came down through 
 Smoky Canon. 
 
 The girl was exhausted. Melody wondered how she 
 clung to her horse. He tried to cheer her up, but it 
 was a hopeless task. For at least the twentieth time, 
 he told the girl that some one must have taken Ba- 
 silio to safety. He had no knowledge that warranted 
 his certainty. His words sounded empty even to him- 
 self the last time he uttered them. So, in silence, they 
 covered the last half-mile. After four or five unsuc- 
 cessful attempts, Melody found a way through the 
 choked creek-bottom. 
 
 He was in the lead when they came out and was 
 the first to catch sight of the flood-swept home. Both 
 wings of the house were gone. Not a sign remained 
 of barns or corrals. Piled high about the portion of 
 the building which still stood was wreckage of every 
 description. The entire lower floor had been under 
 water at one time. Not a window was left. Doors 
 hung crazily on twisted hinges. 
 
 Melody knew Mercedes had come up beside him, 
 but he could not take his eyes away from the ruins. 
 Daylight would have revealed them relentlessly; but 
 the searching rays of the sun could never invest that 
 tangled pile of stone and torn timbers with the se- 
 pulchral air with which the moon now bathed it. It 
 was unreal, ghastly. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 255 
 
 The cow-boy nerved himself to face the girl beside 
 him. She was staring fixedly at all that was left of 
 the once beautiful hacienda. It had been the only 
 home Mercedes had ever known. Every childhood 
 memory centered within its walls. Under other cir- 
 cumstances its destruction would have crushed her; 
 but she had been through too much this night already. 
 Her nerves and emotions had lost the power to react 
 to further torture. 
 
 She was dazed by what she beheld. She wanted to 
 dash into the ruins and search with feverish haste 
 for Basilio, but a trance-like lethargy enveloped her. 
 It frightened Melody more than tears. His voice 
 quavered uncertainly as he spoke to her. 
 
 "I '11 take a look inside, if you '11 wait out 
 here." 
 
 Mercedes shook her head. 
 
 "No, I '11 go with you." 
 
 "You better not do that," the cow-boy begged. 
 "Things 11 be torn up pretty bad in there." 
 
 "But B-B-Basilio." She hesitated over the word. 
 
 "I tell you, we won't find him, Senorita. He ain't 
 here." 
 
 It was his old assertion. Mercedes had moved ahead 
 of him. If she were determined to search the ruins, 
 it would be useless for him to try to hold her back. 
 It would be better to stay at her side and buck her up 
 if she did find anything. 
 
 It took him some time to clear a passage into that 
 part of the house which had escaped total destruc- 
 tion. A foot of mud and debris covered the floors. 
 
256 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Furniture was piled on end. Great holes gaped in the 
 walls where the plaster had given way. 
 
 Melody found a lamp upstairs. He called time 
 after time for the child before he came down. Mer- 
 cedes had cried out, too, but they got no answer. 
 With the aid of the light, they went over the wreck- 
 age carefully, but not a trace of the child or of the 
 two old servants was to be had. 
 
 Faith in his own prophecy began to grow in the 
 red-haired one. 
 
 "I knew somebody had got them out/' he stated. 
 
 " Maybe they got lost when they try to run," Mer- 
 cedes murmured mournfully. 
 
 "No! The flood came too quick for that. If they 
 had n 't been warned, they 'd be right here. We '11 
 find them at some of the neighbors to the west. If 
 you say so, we '11 go now." 
 
 "I best stay here, Senor. I 'm tired ... so tired. 
 You will go quicker by yourself." 
 
 "But I can't leave you here all alone in this place. 
 You 'd be scared to death. It looks haunted." 
 
 She smiled at him tenderly. 
 
 "There is nothing here to frighten me, my friend. 
 Mercedes knows every rock and stone in this house. 
 If spirits come here, they must be the spirits of those 
 who loved me; my mother or my father . . . My 
 good father!" 
 
 "He was that, all right," Melody snapped out. "He 
 was a hundred per cent." 
 
 The cow-boy gazed at the door. "I 11 be blubberin' 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 257 
 
 like a kid if I don't get out of here in a hurry, " he 
 murmured to himself. Aloud he said: 
 
 "I '11 wait here till you get upstairs. It '11 be light 
 in three hours. Now don't you get nervous. I won't 
 come back without him." 
 
 A few minutes later she heard him riding away. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 MELODY had instilled in Mercedes some degree 
 of confidence in his ability to find Basilio. It 
 sustained her, now that she was alone ; that, and her 
 faith in Kildare. She could count on him. He had 
 even defied Acklin for her. 
 
 She tried to mutter a prayer, but mind and body 
 were so exhausted that the effort was incoherent. 
 With the little strength that remained in her, she man- 
 aged to get to the bed that stood in the center of the 
 room. Undressing was beyond her. She tried to 
 unlace her boots, but her eyes closed. 
 
 Mercedes did not know how long she had been 
 asleep when she was awakened by the sound of some 
 one creeping stealthily up the stairs. 
 
 It was Shorty. He had called several times and, 
 getting no answer, had begun searching the house, 
 bent on picking up whatever trifles he could find and, 
 at the same time, intending to make certain that he 
 had not left himself open to Bodine's displeasure. 
 
 When Mercedes threw open her door and faced 
 him, he was the more frightened of the two. But 
 Shorty was truly an evil-looking figure as she saw 
 him standing in the light that streamed on him. 
 
 "What you want here?" she demanded. 
 
 "You the Senorita?" Shorty questioned in turn. 
 258 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 259 
 
 ' ' I am. What is your business ? ' ' 
 
 * ' I got a letter for you. ' ' He brought it forth from 
 a coat-pocket. "I been callin' for ten minutes. I 
 did n't think they was any one home." 
 
 Mercedes read the note hastily. Her heart beat fas* 
 ter as she recognized Basilic 's strange letters. He 
 was alive then ! 
 
 "You are one of Bodine's men, huh?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am. We bin together a long time." 
 
 "I never see you before/' the girl cautiously re- 
 marked. 
 
 Shorty smiled. 
 
 "Well, to tell the truth, I ain't bin goin' round 
 much. I sorta stay to home like." 
 
 * ' You have seen my brother then ? He is not hurt ? ' ' 
 
 "No! He 's all right, unless he 's cried hisself to 
 death." 
 
 "Oh, I wish you had brought him here," Mercedes 
 gasped. 
 
 "Well, lady, Buck was afraid they wouldn't be 
 anythin ' left of this place. I bin hours gittin ' here. I 
 got a rig to take you in. We '11 have to go round 
 by the Winnemucca road to make it. ' ' 
 
 The girl weighed what she was doing, for all of 
 her excitement, as she followed Shorty downstairs to 
 his team. She had good reason to fear Bodine ; but she 
 had to go to Basilio. At least, it would be dawn when 
 she arrived there. 
 
 In answer to a sudden impulse she snatched a pin 
 from her dress, and as she stepped upon the veranda 
 she fastened Bodine's note to the door without attract- 
 
260 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 ing Shorty's attention. Melody would be sure co find 
 it there. 
 
 With a distinct sense of fear she took her seat be- 
 side Bodine's man. Being alone with him in the 
 hacienda, with its old associations and familiar ob- 
 jects to give her courage, had been terrible enough; 
 being in the open with him in the dead of night was 
 infinitely more terrifying. 
 
 Mercedes tried to keep to her end of the seat, but 
 as the wagon jolted and swayed over the uneven 
 ground, she was thrown against him from time to 
 time. If Shorty noticed her effort to keep as much 
 distance as possible between them, he gave no sign 
 of it. 
 
 As they went on and the wagon continued to rock 
 back and forth, the girl became drowsy. Her struggle 
 to keep to her end of the seat began to cease. The 
 man beside her was no longer the evil-looking thing 
 he had been. Mercedes felt her head resting on his 
 shoulder. It was soft and wonderfully comfortable. 
 She sighed contentedly. 
 
 By the time they came to the main road she slept. 
 Shorty's arm was around her to keep her from fall- 
 ing, the expression on his face as emotionless as ever. 
 In this fashion they traveled to Webster Creek. 
 
 They had not yet arrived there when the note Mer- 
 cedes had pinned to the door of the hacienda caught 
 Kent's attention. His place had escaped, and his 
 first thought had been of the girl and Basilio. 
 
 In the interval that had followed the first dim 
 echo of the explosion he had realized, by a process 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 261 
 
 of deduction peculiar to himself, that the dam had 
 been destroyed. By the time he had spoken a few 
 brief words over the telephone, the flood-waters were 
 whirling past. 
 
 The destruction of the dam caused Kent no regret. 
 For all of his talk, Tuscarora was a lawless old soul. 
 Dynamite had accomplished more in a second than 
 all of his weeks of patient work. Acklin had got 
 what he richly deserved. He might rant, and his legal 
 henchmen tear their hair; but the dam was gone! 
 
 Some one would pay dearly for destroying it, if he 
 were caught. Catching him was something else again ! 
 Thus, in spirit quite accepting the accomplished fact, 
 he had ridden to Buena Yista. 
 
 The note on the door had caught his attention im- 
 mediately. It told him very little. If Basilio was at 
 Bodine's place, where were Mercedes and Esteban? 
 
 He was searching the rooms above when he heard 
 some one ride up. 
 
 " Hello, there!" he called. "Who are you?" 
 
 ''That you, Tuscarora?" the new-comer questioned 
 anxiously. 
 
 Kent recognized Kildare's voice. He ran down- 
 stairs to meet him. 
 
 "Where 's Mercedes and Melody?" Blaze de- 
 manded. 
 
 "Ain't no one here but me. They must V got 
 away in time." 
 
 "No, no! Melody brought her here after the dam 
 went out." 
 
 Kent's eyes widened, and Kildare told him briefly 
 
262 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 of the explosion and of taking Esteban to Paradise, 
 where the doctor held out hope for the boy. 
 
 "Bodine promised to get Basilio to safety," Blaze 
 exclaimed. ' ' She did n 't know that when she started 
 down here, though." 
 
 " Guess he did!" Tuscarora answered. "Or what 
 do you make of this?" He produced the note. "I 
 found it pinned on the door." 
 
 "My God!" Blaze groaned. "She's gone to Bo- 
 dine 's as sure as fate. He 's decoyed her there with, 
 this. But what happened to Melody? He wasn't 
 here when she received this note, or else she would n 't 
 have stuck it up like that. It was meant for him all 
 right ! Damn it ! If I had n 't had to go back to the 
 ranch to get here, I 'd a been in time." 
 
 His jaws closed with a click. He wheeled on Kent 
 with an angry glitter in his eyes. Tuscarora 's 
 anxiety for the girl matched Kildare's. 
 
 "They been gone an hour, sure," the little man 
 stated, "or I 'd 'a' seen them on my way here." 
 
 "Let 's not waste any more time," Blaze cried, as 
 he flung himself into his saddle. "Listen, Kent," he 
 went on. "How long will it take you to get the 
 sheriff?" 
 
 "He may be in Paradise now. Land 's a friend of 
 mine. I 'phoned him as soon as I heard the explo- 
 sion. He won't waste any time gettin' up here from 
 Winnemucca. ' ' 
 
 "Well, you get him as quick as that old nag of 
 yours will let you. Swear in all the deputies you 
 can, and fan it for Bodine's place. There 's going 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 263 
 
 to be hell to pay there in another hour. Acklin is 
 going to swing him if he can. ' ' 
 
 "He means business, huh?" 
 
 "You bet he does! But I intend to have some- 
 thing to say about that. I don't want him hung! 
 This party of Acklin 's is going to throw the fear of 
 God into an old friend of mine. I 've got to stop it 
 some way." 
 
 Blaze was thinking of Shorty. 
 
 "I 'd have given an arm to have kept this thing 
 from coming to a head to-night. The beans are in 
 the fire now all right. Too bad! But say, if Bodine's 
 harmed her he 11 have to square it with me. Acklin 
 won't cheat me out of that." 
 
 Still Blaze realized as Kent and he dashed along 
 that if the Big Boss and his men got to Webster 
 Creek first, as was most likely, the odds against being 
 able to play for time until the sheriff and his posse 
 arrived would make the effort almost hopeless. The 
 cow-boy racked his brain to invent some game of 
 cross purposes by which he could accomplish this seem- 
 ing impossibility. He understood fully, too, that even 
 with the sheriff there it was no certainty that Bodine 
 would not be hanged. If Acklin insisted on going 
 through with his threat, the law would be sorely tried 
 to stop him. 
 
 They came directly to the place where the road 
 forked. Blaze was ahead. He drew up until Kent 
 was beside him. 
 
 "I 'm going to try and get around by the cemetery 
 now," he called to the little man. "I '11 make it, too. 
 
264 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Don't forget; swear in all the deputies you can. 
 You 've got to make good for me, Joe. Acklin will be 
 there a hundred strong. He was 'phoning to the 
 X L and the Bar Circle for men when I left the Bull's 
 Head. His waddies from Eloise and Squaw Valley 
 are moving already. He 's throwing a circle of riders 
 around Bodine's ranch that won't stop at anything. 
 By the time it begins to draw in, men will be thicker 
 than flies along Webster Creek." 
 
 "I '11 be there 'fore long; pert and chipper, too," 
 Tuscarora assured him. 
 
 "Don't lose a minute, Joe. I 'm going to try and 
 catch Mercedes before she gets there. If I don 't, any- 
 thing is liable to happen. I '11 stall until you come." 
 
 Kent did not turn for a backward glance. Like a 
 shadow he was gone in the night. Kildare had dis- 
 appeared as rapidly. Far across the valley the same 
 urge for haste had taken possession of Shorty. He 
 lashed his lagging team into a gallop that sent them 
 flying over the remaining miles. 
 
 And while they hurried, in the hills above them, 
 unseen and unheard, miles away in places, Acklin 's 
 men were moving. Their speed was slow, in marked 
 contrast to those below them. But they began to 
 join hands, and they came on apace. The gaps 
 in the circle began to fill. The Bar Circle boys came 
 up. Over on the north the men from Eloise arrived 
 at their appointed destination. 
 
 It was the gathering of the clans. The Double A 
 had heard the call. And at their head rode Acklin, 
 the Big Boss, the feudal lord. 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 BODINB caught sound of Shorty's coming when 
 the man was still some distance away. Buck had 
 worked himself into a fine ferment as he waited. He 
 put on his hat now and went to the barn. He wanted 
 a word with Shorty before he faced the girl. 
 
 He heard him drive into the yard, and saw Mer- 
 cedes get out of the wagon and walk into the kitchen. 
 A few seconds later Shorty pulled up his team in 
 front of the barn. 
 
 "Damn it, man, where you been?" Buck demanded 
 angrily. 
 
 "You mean, where ain't I been," Shorty growled 
 back at him. "Look at that rig. It 's been over the 
 hubs in mud half the time. I got what I went after, 
 didn't I?" 
 
 ' ' Yeh ? And you had me scared to death, too. You 
 unhitch your team and saddle up. The boys are 
 waitin' for you on the trail that goes up to Liotard's 
 place. I '11 bring you down in the mornin' if every- 
 thing 's 0. K." 
 
 "What about the kid?" Shorty asked. 
 
 "I clean forgot him," Buck admitted. "You stay 
 and hang on to him. If he starts squawkin' again, 
 wring his little neck." 
 
 265 
 
266 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Mercedes drew back, as Buck opened the kitchen 
 door. The slovenly disorder of the room and the air 
 of mystery which hung over the entire place, had thor- 
 oughly alarmed her. Bodine saw her nervous start. 
 
 "Well, I see you got here at last," he said with an 
 easy smile. "I knew you 'd be worried about the 
 kid." 
 
 "Is he aU right?" 
 
 "Sure; sound asleep right now." 
 
 ' ' Let me have him, please. I want to take him. ' ' 
 
 "You ain't thinkin' of leavin' here 'fore mornin', 
 are you?" Buck demanded. 
 
 "Si, Senor, I go at once." 
 
 "No you 're not, querida." Bodine used the term 
 of endearment with assured familiarity. "I risked 
 my neck gettin' the kid out of danger for you, and 
 you ain't goin' to pay me back by refusin' my hos- 
 pitality." 
 
 "It was kind of you to save him; but I want to 
 get him and go. I am afraid here. ' ' 
 
 "Afraid?" Buck laughed. "There ain't nothin' 
 to be afraid of with me here. I '11 look out for you." 
 
 "But I want to go," Mercedes repeated anxiously 
 as Buck tried to induce her to take a seat. 
 
 His eyes narrowed a trifle. 
 
 * * Now, honey, ' ' he went on, ' ' you forget that I said 
 you was goin' to stay. I got a habit of bein' obeyed 
 round this place. If you want the kid, you got to be 
 good to me." 
 
 "What you mean?" the trembling girl demanded. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 267 
 
 "Let 's get down to cases," Buck answered her. 
 "There's no use beatin' round the bush. I been sweet 
 on you ever since I first clamped my eyes on you. 
 You knew it, too, and you gave me the low-down every 
 time. But that 's all right. I like a woman with 
 some scrap in her. You 've got nerve enough to 
 match my own. That 's why I 'm strong for you. I 
 swore I 'd get you some day, and I 'm goin' to make 
 good. I didn't bring your kid brother here for 
 nothin'." 
 
 "Stop stop, please," Mercedes begged. 
 
 Her nearness to him drove Buck mad with desire. 
 She was even more lovely that he had supposed. 
 
 "Why, querida," he said fervently, "there ain't 
 a thing I 've got, I wouldn't give for you. I got 
 water on this place again. It 's worth somethin' now. 
 But I ain't a rancher. I 'd throw up this thing in a 
 minute for you. There ain't no real money in ranch- 
 ing, nohow. I '11 take you where there 's some life 
 and excitement. This God-forsaken desert ain't no 
 place for a girl like you." 
 
 "You mean that you want me to go with you f " 
 Mercedes could not believe her ears. 
 
 "Yes, I '11 even marry you, if you 11 come with 
 me," Buck replied. 
 
 The girl before him shook her head hopelessly. The 
 man must be mad. 
 
 "Well, what do you say?" he demanded. 
 
 "I say no!" Mercedes cried. She put a chair be- 
 tween them as Buck advanced toward her. The look 
 
268 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 in his eyes was proof enough of his intention. He 
 wanted to take her in his arms and feel her warm flesh 
 against his whether she would have it or not. 
 
 ' ' You have trapped me ! " she exclaimed. * ' I do not 
 believe my brother is here at all. ' ' 
 
 "He's here all right," Bodine assured her. "Hey,. 
 Shorty, " he called. 
 
 "Yep," came the muffled answer from the next 
 room. 
 
 "Wake that kid up!" 
 
 Mercedes rushed towards the door excitedly. 
 
 "Don't hurt him," she wailed. 
 
 Buck got in front of her. 
 
 ' ' He won 't hurt him, ' ' he murmured. ' ' I just want 
 to show you he 's here." 
 
 The girl heard Basilio's startled cry as Shorty 
 awakened him. 
 
 "You beast!" Mercedes shrieked. "Let me have 
 him ! Let me have him ! ' ' 
 
 "Not till you say yes to me, Senorita." 
 
 "You coward! No wonder you want to run away. 
 Senor Acklin will send you to prison for blowing up 
 his dam." 
 
 "Yeh?" Buck questioned exasperatingly. "Este- 
 ban will go with me, too, won't he?" In a changed 
 tone he went on : "You followed us into the hills this 
 afternoon; I knew that long ago. What else you 've 
 found out, I don't know, and I don't care." 
 
 He disproved this last statement by immediately 
 asking : 
 
 "Have you seen Acklin?" 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 269 
 
 Mercedes caught a hint of uneasiness in his voice. 
 
 "I have," she answered. 
 
 1 ' Humph ! I suppose you told him all you know ? ' ' 
 The big fellow's tones were threatening. 
 
 Mercedes saw her advantage. 
 
 "I tell him nothing!" she cried. "But I will if 
 you do not give me Basilio and let me take him 
 home." 
 
 Her words enraged Bodine. 
 
 "So you 're goin' to try and play me against him 
 are you? He 's sweet on you, too. Say, you ain't 
 kiddin' yourself that Acklin would marry you? He 's 
 just playin'. I got you now, and I 'm goin' to keep 
 you. He, nor anybody else, ain't goin' to take you 
 away from me, you beautiful little devil. Come 
 here!" 
 
 Buck reached out his long arms and caught her 
 around the waist. Mercedes fought to get free, but 
 he was too strong for her. 
 
 "Now you change your mind in a hurry, or I 11 
 make you." He raised his voice. "Give that kid's 
 arm a twist or two." Then he continued to the girl: 
 "I '11 show you who 's boss here." 
 
 Shorty more than obeyed Buck's order. Basilio let 
 out a succession of shrieks, as the brute twisted his 
 arm until the tender bones were almost snapping. 
 
 "Stop!" Mercedes cried so loudly that her voice 
 carried to Kildare, who was still some distance down 
 the road. "Stop !" she called out again. 
 
 "Maybe you '11 listen to reason now," Buck 
 grumbled. 
 
270 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 He caught her by the wrist as he spoke and drew 
 her closer to him. Mercedes beat his face with her 
 free hand. But his jaw was impervious to her light 
 blows. With feline ferocity she bared her nails then, 
 and ripped his cheeks until they were smeared with 
 blood. Bodine did not release her, however. 
 
 "You fightin' wildcat," he mumbled through 
 gritted teeth, "I '11 kiss you if it kills me." 
 
 Try as hard as she might, Mercedes could not hold 
 him off. His cruel, sensuous mouth drew close to her 
 own. To add to her horror, Basilio shrieked again 
 and again. She redoubled her efforts to get free. Bo- 
 dine pinioned her arms against her hips. She felt 
 something sharp ripping her sleeve. It was Buck's 
 revolver. Automatically her fingers closed upon it. 
 With a wrench, she pulled it out of the holster. Bo- 
 dine felt the gun-barrel boring into his stomach. His 
 face grew white. 
 
 "Get back!" Mercedes gasped. "En seguida! At 
 momenta! or you die here ! ' ' 
 
 Buck backed away. He knew she meant what she 
 said. His rifle stood in the corner. He retreated 
 toward it. The way to the door between the two 
 rooms was clear now. Mercedes ran to it and flung 
 it open. 
 
 Shorty sat on the bed beside Basilio, the child's 
 arms still held in his big hands. A smoky wall lamp 
 revealed him in all of his ugliness. But if he saw the 
 girl, he did not show it. His grip on the child did not 
 relax, either. Mercedes cried out for him to let go of 
 her brother; she raised her gun to compel him. But 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 271 
 
 fear such as she could never inspire in him held 
 Shorty in its grasp. He had caught sight of Blaze 
 peering through the open window. 
 
 Mercedes saw only the man and child in front of 
 her. Shorty's rigidity turned with incredible swift- 
 ness to most violent action. He dropped his arm and 
 brought it up with a gun in his hand so quickly that 
 it surpassed belief. 
 
 But Kildare had been more rapid than he. Shorty's 
 gun came up, and up, and up, as Mercedes watched, 
 spellbound. It seemed that it was pointing at her. 
 Her finger twitched, and her own gun barked. 
 
 Kildare saw the play ; the girl at the door, her gun, 
 raised ; Shorty 's pistol leaping into action ; the fran- 
 tic child struggling to throw off the iron hand on his 
 arm. But more poignant than anything else was the 
 glitter in Shorty's eyes. Blaze knew he was the 
 man's target, not the girl. His gun was in his hand. 
 A tightening of the lips and his automatic spat forth 
 its deadly message. 
 
 He saw Mercedes's gun flash. The report of it 
 smothered his own. Only a split-second of time, that 
 words fail to express, had intervened between the 
 two shots. So close had they been that neither the 
 girl nor Bodine in the next room realized two guns 
 had spoken. 
 
 Buck rushed to where the girl stood staring open- 
 mouthed at the man on the bed. For a second, it 
 seemed, Shorty hung poised in the air. His face was 
 set, an unearthly light in his eyes. And then, with a 
 thud, he crashed to the floor dead. 
 
272 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Mercedes's fingers stiffened. Her gun clattered 
 against the wall. Basilio had heard her voice. He 
 searched for her and came to her side as Buck laid 
 his hand on her arm. She saw neither of them. The 
 dead thing on the floor held her in a trance. 
 
 Kildare had not waited for a second look. He 
 drew away from the window and picked up the empty 
 shell from his gun. He threw it into the creek. Why 
 he did this was not plain to him at the time. In some 
 way, he knew, Shorty's death might be turned to his 
 advantage. But how? How? He tried to whip his 
 mind into helping him. He felt no regret over kill- 
 ing the man. It was part of the debt he had come to 
 square. Acklin would be here in a few minutes. It 
 was almost dawn. How could he twist this thing so 
 that it would halt the Big Boss? 
 
 "How can I stall him?" he muttered to himself. 
 "It 's here somewhere." 
 
 Blaze caught sight of a man approaching on horse- 
 back. He had been there only a second or two. Kil- 
 dare drew back into the shadows lurking about the 
 house. 
 
 Bodine was looking up at Mercedes from where he 
 knelt beside the body. 
 
 "You killed him all right," Blaze heard him say. 
 "He 's plumb dead. What you goin' to do now?" 
 "Who's goin' to the pen? This State 's no place for 
 you. Say, I guess you '11 be glad to beat it with me. 
 You wait! I '11 get a couple of fresh horses and 
 we '11 hit it for Oregon on the jump." 
 
 "Throw up your hands!" 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 273 
 
 It was a rude interruption of Buck 's words. 
 1 ' You ain 't going -to Oregon, or anywhere else. ' ' 
 Bodine looked around. In the doorway stood the 
 Big Boss. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 BODINE stared speechlessly at Acklin. Shorty's 
 sudden death and Mercedes's maddening influ- 
 ence had destroyed Buck's boastful pose. He had 
 been prepared earlier in the evening for the advent 
 of Morrow or some lesser light in the Double A con- 
 stellation. But at no time had he dreamed that 
 Acklin himself would come single-handed to beard 
 him in his own den. 
 
 The Big Boss walked across the kitchen to the 
 doorway of the room in which Shorty lay. As Buck 
 recovered from the daze he was in, he finally man- 
 aged to articulate: 
 
 "I ain't armed!" 
 
 "Take your hands down then," Acklin snapped. 
 "Back into the center of that room." 
 
 Bodine retreated as he was ordered, facing the 
 other man as he stepped backward. The big cattle- 
 man kept pace with him. A movement near the win- 
 dow to which Mercedes had stepped with Basilio 
 stopped him in his tracks. His gun was in position as 
 he wheeled, but he dropped it in consternation as he 
 recognized the girl and child. 
 
 Hatred flamed in Acklin^s eyes. Finding her here 
 with Bodine was a staggering blow to his vanity. He 
 had overheard Buck's words urging flight to Ore- 
 gon. They were going together! 
 
 274 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 275 
 
 He remembered how she had repulsed him; how 
 he had found her that very night in the arms of one 
 of his hired hands. What a fool he had been to let 
 her slip through his fingers. Well, he 'd put a stop 
 to Bodine 's little game! And then he 'd have his 
 way. He 'd take her back to the Bull's Head and 
 keep her there until he was ready to let her go. 
 
 Mercedes bit her finger nails nervously under the 
 searching scrutiny of Acklin's eyes. Her very ex- 
 citement made her seem guilty to him. The crying 
 child brought back to the man a recollection of Este- 
 ban 's words. Bodine had taken care of the child then ! 
 She had come, too ! In some way she had got rid of 
 his man, Melody. 
 
 He stamped his feet in exasperation and rage as he 
 reasoned it out. It was all too pat, too well joined 
 up to be anything but connivance. The girl had 
 helped to blow up the dam no matter what Kildare 
 had said. She looked guilty, and she was guilty! 
 
 His voice rose to a roar as he opened his mouth to 
 speak. 
 
 "So you 're getting ready to skip with Bodine, eh? 
 That 's your little plan, is it? You forget it! He 's 
 done all the traveling he 's going to do. You '11 go 
 with me when I leave here. Aw-w-wh! Who did 
 that?" 
 
 He pointed to Shorty. 
 
 "She did!" Bodine cried, wiping the blood from 
 his scratched face. ' ' Pulled my gun out and got him 
 from the door there!" 
 
 "Is that right?" Acklin bellowed. 
 
276 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Mercedes covered her face with her hands. He 
 could hear her sob as she turned away. It was an- 
 swer enough for him. 
 
 "They 11 take you to jail for this," he grumbled. 
 He stopped to mutter to himself. Then: "No, they 
 won't either! I '11 fix that!" 
 
 He came close to Bodine. Buck's nerve had re- 
 turned in a measure. 
 
 "You won't take her away from me, Acklin; not 
 that way, ' ' he cut in before the Big Boss could speak. 
 But Acklin laughed in his face for his pains. 
 
 "You have your little joke, Bodine/' he warned. 
 "Your time 's short enough." 
 
 Buck's face paled a trifle at the studied ease with 
 which the man before him uttered this statement. 
 
 "What you hintin' at now?" he demanded. 
 
 "When my men get here you '11 find out. You 
 didn 't think you could get away with what you pulled 
 on me to-night, did you? You bossed this deal!" 
 
 Bodine 's lips twitched uneasily. Had that fool kid 
 given him away? His poker eyes searched Acklin 's 
 face for some sign of bluffing, but he found nothing 
 to reassure him. 
 
 "You ain't goin' to have me arrested on that bos- 
 co's word, are you?" he asked. 
 
 "No. We ain't going to arrest you, Bodine." 
 
 The directness of this statement blanched the big 
 fellow's face. They were going to do without the 
 law: that was what Acklin was saying! The blood 
 along Buck's spine grew cold for a brief second. But 
 his concern passed. He had been in dire straits be- 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 277 
 
 fore and lived through. He summoned a grin to his 
 mouth now and laughed derisively, pretending not 
 to understand the innuendo. 
 
 "You 're all cut up about your dam, ain't yuh?" 
 The laugh died out of Bodine's voice. "You '11 never 
 rebuild that little toy, either; not if you jug me!" 
 
 It was Acklin's turn to smile. 
 
 "We clean forgot about your injunction when we 
 built it, did n 't we ? " he asked sarcastically. 
 
 "No!" Buck shook his head. "You forget how 
 the water was tricked out of the Rebel so that you 
 could build your dam! When I tell my story to a 
 jury, you '11 go into eclipse." 
 
 "The jury that 's going to hear your case will use 
 a rope! You get that, Bodine. By the time the 
 coroner comes to get this thing on the floor, the buz- 
 zards will be picking your bones. There won't be 
 anybody but me to say how this man got shot. And 
 if I say that you did it the matter will be ended. You 
 are going to swing!" 
 
 Unconsciously in his anger Acklin raised his voice 
 until it registered even on Mercedes's bewildered 
 mind. The significance of that word "swing" brought 
 her back to a realization of where she was. It had a 
 marked effect on Bodine, too. The conviction settled 
 on him that the time for flight had arrived. The 
 lord of the Double A was too matter-of-fact in both 
 words and manner to argue anything but strong re- 
 inforcements at his back. When they arrived he 
 would indeed be helpless. 
 
 Buck cast an anxious, calculating eye at the win- 
 
278 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 dows. The one at his back was open. It was near 
 enough, too. A flying leap, and he could make it. In 
 the murky grayness of early dawn he could steal away. 
 Acklin was looking at his watch. It was an oppor- 
 tunity, a chance ! 
 
 Mercedes was watching Bodine. She saw his fingers 
 clench, his muscles knot. She divined his intention. 
 Her mouth opened in amazement. 
 
 Bodine crouched then for the spring that was to 
 take him to safety; but the patter of horses outside 
 the window at which he was aiming stopped him 
 short. Acklin smiled at him pityingly. He had heard, 
 also. 
 
 Kildare had watched Acklin and Bodine. He 
 blessed every minute that passed without bringing the 
 rank and file of the Double A to thwart him. That 
 the Big Boss had come there single-handed revealed 
 Acklin in a new light. Blaze had always found him 
 cautious, tactful, unemotional. His coming here 
 was madness. He could not have known that Bodine 
 was alone. Or had he figured that the man was in 
 hiding; that the house on Webster Creek would be 
 deserted? 
 
 And Bodine what was his game? Had his men 
 got wind of trouble? Shorty's presence argued 
 against that. 
 
 Acklin 's frank statement of what he intended doing 
 with Mercedes inflamed Blaze more than anything 
 Bodine had said. The mask was off ! 
 
 He had heard the bustle of approaching men a long 
 minute before Buck or Acklin became aware of their 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 279 
 
 noise. There were five or six in the party. He rec- 
 ognized Brother Jones's cackling voice. A second 
 later the old man and his companions were tramping 
 into the kitchen. 
 
 Blaze recognized Chet and Patterson bringing up 
 the rear. They were all heavily armed. Brother 
 Jones was already at the door of the room in which 
 Acklin had cornered Bodine. The others were at his 
 heels. 
 
 Kildare sprang into action. He placed his hands 
 on the sill and vaulted into the kitchen. When the 
 Big Boss caught sight of him, he believed the man had 
 come in with the others. 
 
 "Here he is!" the owner of the Double A called 
 out, pointing at Bodine. 
 
 "My Gawd! Who done that?" Brother Jones ex- 
 claimed, catching sight of the body in the corner. He 
 walked over to the corpse and touched it with his foot. 
 " Humph! He 's dead, ain't he?" 
 
 The coming of these men turned Buck's face a 
 sickly hue. He actually stammered when he said: 
 "She d-d-did it!" 
 
 Mercedes's heart leaped as she saw Kildare. He 
 made no attempt to go to her. The girl's half -raised 
 hand fell limply to her side. She dimly realized that 
 the man's eyes were trying to convey some message 
 to her. She saw him tap his lips significantly. And 
 then Acklin was saying: 
 
 "You boys forget that remark of his. He 's lying. 
 There was only the three of us here, and " 
 
 "You 're not counting me, I guess." 
 
280 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 The crowd wheeled on Kildare. 
 
 "Why, you just came in, now with Jcnes, didn't 
 you?" Acklin roared. 
 
 Blaze shook his head. 
 
 "No, I Ve been here for almost half an hour. Bo- 
 dine didn't do any shooting." 
 
 Life flowed back into Buck's veins immediately. 
 This was help from an unexpected source. 
 
 "That 11 stop your little game, Acklin!" he cried. 
 
 The Big Boss paid no attention to Bodine's words. 
 His eyes were on Blaze. In tense tones he said to 
 him: 
 
 "You ain't saying who did it, Kildare. But you 
 and I know. It means a trial jail! We don't want 
 that. If you '11 pass me your word, we 11 string up 
 this skunk for blowing out the dam and killing this 
 man, and let it go at that." 
 
 Here was an argument, a stall! Blaze hesitated 
 over his answer. 
 
 "Hanging/ he drawled provokingly, "won't do 
 away with that thing in the corner ! ' ' 
 
 Then came the clatter of many horses. 
 
 1 ' Here are the rest of the boys. We 11 get moving ! ' ' 
 The Big Boss raised his voice. "Somebody bring in 
 a rope," he cried. "Hurry up!" 
 
 Blaze heard the men dismounting. There were not 
 less than twenty-five in the crowd. There wouldn't 
 be any delay now. This affair was going through to 
 its sordid finish. Bodine's face was ghastly. With- 
 out quite knowing why he did it, Kildare walked 
 past him into the kitchen. 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 281 
 
 There seemed to be some delay outside. He could 
 hear a murmur of voices. Bodine's rifle stood in the 
 corner. Blaze picked it up and threw a shell into the 
 barrel. In the past he had pondered at some length 
 over acquiring this gun. He saw that it was the same 
 caliber as Acklin 's. That effectually snapped the 
 flimsy thread of circumstantial evidence by which he 
 had expected to trap Jose's murderer. He told him- 
 self now that he should not have expected any other 
 end to such reasoning. At least he still had the 
 Indian charm. 
 
 The others started moving into the kitchen. Brother 
 Jones had a gun at Bodine's back. Acklin sang out 
 again for those outside to hurry up. In answer to 
 his second call the door was flung open. Blaze could 
 hardly see for joy. The man who had just entered 
 was Tuscarora! 
 
 " Sorry I had to keep you waiting," the little fel- 
 low cried. "I been hurryin' to beat all get out!" 
 
 "What 're you doing here?" Acklin shouted. 
 
 Kent smiled faintly. 
 
 "You might enlighten me, too, in that direction. 
 I got the sheriff and some twenty deputies outside, 
 if that 's any news to you." 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 TN the silence that followed, Land squeezed past the 
 * little man in the doorway. He was broad-shoul- 
 dered, gigantic; a sheriff of bygone days. In the 
 crook of his arm he carried a time-worn army Win- 
 chester that he had taken away from a renegade 
 Piute. 
 
 "Well, Acklin?" he asked easily. 
 
 "You 're making yourself a lot of trouble butting 
 in here, Land." 
 
 "Don't you go worryin' about me. I '11 take care 
 of myself." He turned to Kent : "Are your friends 
 here, Joe?" 
 
 "How about that, Blaze?" Tuscarora demanded. 
 1 ' Is the Senorita and her brother here ? ' ' 
 
 "They 're in the next room." 
 
 Mercedes had heard Kent's question. She left the 
 window against which she had been leaning and came 
 to the door between the rooms. The child was asleep 
 in her arms. 
 
 The girl's woeful appearance stabbed the little man 
 to the heart. "What's the matter, honey?" he mur- 
 mured sympathetically as he reached out to help her. 
 
 "Tell Peter to come in here," he called to Land, a 
 second later. When the old Basque came in, Kent 
 gave the sleeping child to him. 
 
 282 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 283 
 
 "Take him outside till this thing 's over," he ad- 
 vised. 
 
 Mercedes placed her hands on the shoulders of the 
 two men. She seemed to gain strength from the very 
 nearness of Kent and her uncle. 
 
 "You better go with Peter, too," Tuscarora ad- 
 vised. "We 11 get you home in a few " He 
 
 stopped as he caught sight of the grisly object in the 
 corner. "Land!" he cried, "look here!" 
 
 The sheriff called in several of his deputies before 
 he moved out of the kitchen. 
 
 "You know what the law is," he warned them 
 "You 're here to defend it." 
 
 His shrewd eyes scanned Acklin's face. The Big 
 Boss scowled darkly. As Land was about to step 
 past him, the cattle-man spoke. 
 
 "There 's a dead man in the next room. That 
 little pouter-pigeon who came in with you has found 
 him. You 'd better let the coroner take care of this. ' ' 
 
 The sheriff's mustache began to bristle. 
 
 "According to last reports, the county is payin-' me 
 my wages; not you. Don't you be so hostile." 
 
 Bodine grinned at this speech. His respect for the 
 law increased a hundredfold. 
 
 Land hastily examined the dead man. 
 
 "Everybody step in here," he ordered. He got to 
 his feet and wiped his hands on his trousers. "Who 
 knows about this?" he continued. "He ain't been 
 dead long." 
 
 Bodine answered him. Had not this good sheriff 
 saved his neck? 
 
284 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 1 ' I reckon I can tell you about it, ' ' he said. ' ' Acklin 
 knows, too. Me and Kildare and the girl were here 
 when it happened. She killed him!" 
 
 "No," Land groaned, unable to believe his ears. 
 "Not that little girl there." 
 
 "That 's who I mean. She pulled my gun out of 
 my holster and fired from the doorway." 
 
 The sheriff shook his head uneasily. His deputies 
 all Paradise men caught their breath. Acklin 
 glared at Bodine. 
 
 Kent placed his arm about Mercedes's shoulders. 
 
 "You didn't do this, honey, did you?" he mur- 
 mured. 
 
 The crowd waited for her answer. They were a 
 hard-living lot, for the most part, but Mercedes won 
 their instant sympathy. They saw how the hysterical 
 girl fought to gain control of herself. 
 
 "I ... I ... I don't . . . don't know," she 
 sobbed. "I came to get Basilio. Bodine had him. 
 He would not let me go. He said I must go away 
 with him. ... I would not do that. He made the 
 other man hurt the baby. He was ..." A sob 
 choked her. 
 
 Land's Basque deputies muttered angrily and the 
 Double A men scowled at Bodine. Before Mercedes 
 could go on, Acklin got the sheriff 's attention. 
 
 "She don't know what she 's saying," he cried. 
 "She 's in no condition to know what she did. You 
 can't take the word of a hysterical girl. I know what 
 happened. Kildare was here; he knows also. Bo- 
 dine 's trying to save his own skin. I ain't going to 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 285 
 
 see this girl thrown into jail. I tell you, Bodine 
 did it!" 
 
 The Big Boss turned until his eyes met Kildare 's. 
 They stared at each other for a full second before 
 Acklin continued. The crowd caught the deadly in- 
 tentness of that glance. It held its breath again. The 
 Big Boss turned back to the sheriff. 
 
 "You ask Kildare if what I say isn't so." The 
 words clicked off his tongue. 
 
 Land arched his eyebrows. "Well?" he de- 
 manded. 
 
 It grew quiet. The crowd waited for Kildare 's an- 
 swer. He began to shake his head. He was speaking. 
 The crowd strained its ears. 
 
 "That 's not what happened," they heard him say. 
 
 He was about to go on when the kitchen door flew 
 open and Big Homer, Acklin 's Kelly Creek foreman, 
 came in, herding before him Bodine 's men. Morrow 
 was back of him. 
 
 "Found these birds hidin' out in the hills beyond 
 Liotard's shack," Cash announced. "Had to be a 
 little bit rough with 'em before we could induce 'em 
 to come along with us." 
 
 Nez Perce looked as if he had been rolled down a 
 mountain-side. Some of the others were not much 
 better off. 
 
 Bodine 's eyes bulged. His surprise was not greater 
 than Kildare 's. For the first time since he had left 
 the dam, he breathed a sigh of relief. 
 
 The room was in an uproar. Blaze walked over to 
 the sheriff's side. Bodine was just behind him. 
 
286 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "That 's my gun you Ve got there/ 7 he said. "I '11 
 trouble you for it." 
 
 "Guess that 's so/' Blaze answered. He broke it 
 and threw out the shell he had snapped into position. 
 It was daylight by now. Quite without premedita- 
 tion, Kildare glanced at his watch. Bodine saw the 
 charm that dangled from its chain. He reached out 
 his hand to examine it. 
 
 "What you doin' with my charm?" he asked. 
 
 "Your charm?" Blaze queried in a tone to match 
 his own. "Melody gave me that weeks ago. Found it 
 outside the Bull's Head. What makes you think it 's 
 yours ? ' ' 
 
 "I 'd recognize that luck-piece with one eye shut. 
 I fell off a horse once and bent that lower end there. 
 That little trick has brought me plenty luck." He 
 pushed it back into Kildare 's hand. "You keep it. 
 We '11 need some luck before this thing 's over." 
 
 Buck had scented a possible ally in Blaze. He saw 
 that Kildare and Acklin were against each other. 
 Blaze wanted to shout: Bodine had killed Jose! 
 
 Land called for order. His deputies had their guns 
 ready. 
 
 "Watch Bodine," Blaze whispered to Kent as Land 
 began speaking. 
 
 "I want it quiet now," the sheriff was saying. "We 
 can't go on with all this commotion. I want to hear 
 the rest of your story, Kildare. I aim to find out 
 who killed this man." 
 
 "There isn't much to tell," Blaze drawled. "I 
 came up to the house and heard the little chief scream- 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 287 
 
 ing. This thing on the floor was trying to twist off 
 the child 's arms. He saw me and drew. I happened 
 to be a little quicker. " Blaze paused to glance at 
 Mercedes. "Yes," he went on, "I killed him." 
 
 Acklin and Morrow began to whisper excitedly. 
 The Double A men began to gather about them. 
 
 1 ' Guess you 'd better get your prisoner and get out 
 of here, Land," Acklin said ominously. "We got 
 a little personal matter to settle with Bodine." 
 
 "You 're pretty cocky, ain't you, Acklin?" the 
 sheriff flung at him. "It 's your move! You get 
 along or I 11 arrest the lot of you for disturb in' the 
 peace." 
 
 1 1 Say ! ' ' roared the Big Boss. "I Ve got a hundred 
 men strung out along the creek. They Ve been 
 circling on this place for three hours. All I Ve got to 
 do is to raise my hand to bring them tumbling into- 
 this room. I don't want any trouble with you. But 
 sheriff or no sheriff, we 're going to take care of that 
 skunk ! He blew up the dam ! God knows how many 
 people have been drowned and how much damage the 
 flood has done. If you folks are homeless, you can 
 thank him for it. I warn you, Land, keep your 
 hands off ! Bodine is going to swing. Get your rope, 
 Jones. ' ' 
 
 Brother started for the door. 
 
 "Whoa, there! Easy in the boat," Land warned. 
 "Men," he called to his deputies, "you Ve been sworn 
 to uphold the law. If any of these boys refuse to- 
 stop, use your guns. The State will back you up." 
 His eyes turned on Acklin. "That was a nice little 
 
288 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 party you had arranged. But it won't come off. 
 Why? Well, just because it won't. I 've got you 
 outnumbered three to one. Kent here got busy on the 
 telephone before we left Paradise. All the Basque 
 genie between this ranch and the Washoe are headin* 
 in this direction. And they 're comin' armed! Take 
 a look through the window and see what you make 
 of that dust-cloud there to the south. They '11 be 
 here in five minutes." 
 
 Acklin was dumbfounded. Morrow was equally 
 crestfallen. 
 
 "You went out along with your dam," Kent 
 chirped. "You '11 learn that when the votes are 
 counted to-night. You won't forget this election day 
 in some time." * 
 
 The Big Boss could have throttled the little man. 
 
 "If you want me to take Bodine into custody on 
 your say-so for blowin ' up the dam, ' ' said Land, ' ' I '11 
 do it. With the boy here accounted for, they ain't no 
 lives lost as far as I know. The Doc says Esteban 
 won't die." 
 
 Acklin made no effort to answer the sheriff. 
 
 "I guess he won't be anxious about that," Bodine 
 said in unctuous tones. "He '11 be a trifle coy about 
 puttin' me in front of a jury. I know too much." 
 
 Some one laughed at the baffled look on Acklin 's 
 face. Kent smiled openly. The Big Boss ground his 
 teeth. 
 
 "You fools don't mean to tell me," he cried, "that 
 you 're going to let this man wipe you out of house 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 289 
 
 and home, and then turn around and thank him for 
 doing it?" 
 
 1 ' Why not ? " Romero 's father exclaimed. ' ' We got 
 water now!" 
 
 "But we 're law-abidin ', " Tuscarora insisted. "You 
 go ahead and prosecute the man that blew up your 
 little old dam. We '11 be tickled to death. We '11 
 prove to you while you 're doin' that that you broke 
 a few laws yourself." 
 
 The dust-cloud the sheriff had noticed had devel- 
 oped rapidly. The men who had made it were riding 
 into the yard. Their coming did not lessen the cat- 
 tle-man's discomfiture. He started for the door, 
 beckoning his men to follow him. 
 
 "Don't expect any help froni me, Kildare," he 
 said to Blaze. "You 've crossed me once too often-" 
 
 "I '11 get along all right, I guess," Blaze answered 
 evenly. 1 l 1 shot in self-defense when I killed Bandy. ' ' 
 
 Bandy? Acklin stopped. He didn't quite follow 
 Kildare. Bandy meant nothing to him, but Bodine 
 and his men stiffened. Nez Perce felt for the guns 
 that had been taken away from him. Buck fingered 
 his rifle. Kent was watching him. 
 
 "He almost got me the first time I came to this 
 place. Didn't he, Buck?" Bodine refused to an- 
 swer. "I didn't know who he was, or why he tried 
 it at that time." 
 
 "Little Bandy Griggs," Blaze went on, taking the 
 photograph he had carried so long from his pocket. 
 "I 've been trailing him for two years." 
 
290 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Bodine's face had gone white. Blaze handed the 
 picture to Land. 
 
 "Sheriff, my name 's not Kildare. Kent here has 
 known me for years. I 'm Bob Blaisdell of Wind 
 Kiver, Wyoming. Blaze has always been short for 
 Blaisdell. Years ago I was a ranger in the park. ' ' 
 
 "Not old Timberline, the head ranger?" Buck 
 cried. 
 
 Blaze smiled "That 's where I met Bandy." 
 
 Bodine's lr_ :t sank. He seemed to know what was 
 coming. His hands and forehead grew damp. Mer- 
 cedes looked from one to the other. She did not com- 
 prehend this situation. Land seemed very much alive 
 to it. Acklin likewise felt the tension creeping into 
 the room. 
 
 "You ain't from Laramie, are you?" Land asked. 
 "The sheriff?" 
 
 " No ; that was my brother ; the Kid ! He was only 
 twenty-two when they elected him. He was a white 
 lad, I '11 tell you." Blaze's voice lost its drawl. 
 "There wasn't a wrong bone in his body. He was 
 right all through. I brought him up that way. And 
 because he was square they went out to get him. When 
 you 've been father and mother, and brother and pal 
 to a kid like that, you '11 know what it means to lose 
 him." 
 
 Blaze had been facing Land. He turned now and 
 stared at Bodine. 
 
 ' ' I guess you 've heard of the Mooney gang ; or the 
 'money' gang as we got to call them. They were 
 running wild in Wyoming. Banks, post-offices, trains 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 291 
 
 they weren't missing a thing. But they kept out 
 of Laramie ! And the word was passed that they were 
 afraid of the Kid. Mooney could n 't stand that ! On 
 the eleventh of November, two years ago, he and his 
 gang stole up to the restaurant where the boy and two 
 of his men were eating their supper, and murdered 
 them; shot them in the back. They didn't have a 
 chance. That 's right, ain't it, Mooney?" 
 
 " What? "Land cried. 
 
 "You heard me!" Blaze whipped out. "He 's the 
 man ! Bodine is an alias. His entire gang is in this 
 room right now. The law forgot or got sick and gave 
 up; but I didn't! The Kid died in my arms, and I 
 promised him I 'd get Mooney if it took me the rest 
 of my life." 
 
 Buck moved a step. Land's gun cut down. 
 
 "I '11 bust you if you try it," the sheriff droned. 
 
 "That 's right. I don't want to lose you, Buck," 
 Blaze echoed. "I 've followed you too long. You got 
 the Kid!" 
 
 The excitement of the present moment dwarfed 
 anything that had gone before. Land saw that he had 
 been helped to fame beyond his wildest dreams. 
 
 "Why, they 're wanted for a dozen mail and train 
 robberies," he cried. "If you boys will give me a 
 hand we '11 put the bracelets on them. ' ' 
 
 He turned to his men, and as he did so Bodine made 
 a flying leap for the window. Blaze caught him 
 around the waist and they went down with a thud. 
 Land was over them in a second, and manacled Buck's 
 wrists. The sheriff got to his feet casually. 
 
292 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "Now, I don't want any more trouble," he began. 
 "We 've had enough of that. You boys line up." 
 
 In a few seconds the sheriff and his men had the 
 gang in irons and standing beside Buck, whose eyes 
 were molten with hatred and baffled rage. 
 
 The feeling of the iron manacles on his wrists in- 
 furiated the big fellow. He had roamed the moun- 
 tains and desert for five years without coming to grief. 
 He knew what he was going back to face. He caught 
 sight of Acklin, who was silently enjoying the pro- 
 ceedings. It brought a curse to his lips. "Say, 
 Land," he cried, "before they get me out of this 
 State I want you to get the right of this water fight. 
 I tricked it! Acklin was in with me. His foreman 
 was there. Timberline knows the facts, too. The 
 whole idea was to establish in the courts that the water 
 that came down from the Santa Rosas did not flow into 
 the river. I showed Acklin how to do it by turning 
 it into the Webster and on into the sink. But he was 
 too good a crook for me. He wanted it all ! I thought 
 he was just hoggin' it. But I was wrong. He knew 
 if he got the water he could drive these Basques out 
 of the valley. That 's what he wanted. He was 
 afraid of Brand and what he 's been preachin'. He 11 
 try to rebuild his dam." 
 
 "No," Kent said, "I don't think he 11 try that." 
 
 ' * Suit yourself about that, ' ' Bodine snarled. ' * Say, 
 Blaisdell, how 'd yuh ever get me?" 
 
 "The Kid recognized Bandy's picture before he 
 died. I used to see Bandy often, up in the park or at 
 the Hole. I knew if I found him, I 'd be pretty close 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 293 
 
 to finding you. I Ve been sure of him for days, but 
 I wanted to get the bunch. " 
 
 Buck showed his teeth in a nasty grin. 
 
 "Where 'd you ever get Bandy's picture ?" 
 
 "The one they took when he was sent up from 
 Cheyenne seven or eight years ago." 
 
 Buck shook his head. What a freak of fortune! 
 He had been the brains of the gang, but, aside from 
 the shooting of the Kid, had never participated in 
 the actual crimes they had committed. No marshal 
 or sheriff in the West had ever met Mooney face to 
 face to know him until this day. 
 
 The crowd drew back as the prisoners filed out, 
 the wily Buck at their head, and then followed 
 them. 
 
 Blaze turned to Mercedes. She caught his hand. 
 Kent had told her about Esteban. 
 
 "Why do you do so much for me?" she asked 
 brokenly. 
 
 Blaze felt a lump come into his throat as he saw 
 how white and tired she was. His fingers closed over 
 hers. 
 
 "Why?" he smiled. "Because because why, I 
 do little enough." 
 
 Land came to the door. "I '11 have to take you 
 along, too," he announced. "The coroner won't get 
 up before evenin'." 
 
 Blaze nodded. 
 
 "I 11 be right out," he answered. He felt Mer- 
 cedes tugging at his arm. Her face was even whiter, 
 if that could be. 
 
294 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "But you did not kill that man! It was my gun. 
 I shot him. Why you do this thing to save me?" 
 
 Blaze looked at her in surprise. He saw that she 
 meant what she said. 
 
 "No, no!*' he hastily assured her. "I got Bandy. 
 You shot, but your marksmanship was terrible." He 
 tried to smile. "Look at that hole in the wall! We 
 fired together." 
 
 Mercedes's eyes widened. What Blaze said was 
 almost impossible for her to believe. 
 
 "But jail," she insisted. "They 're going to put 
 you in jail." 
 
 Land came back in time to overhear her words. 
 He coughed discreetly before entering. 
 
 "Don't worry about jail, little girl," he grinned. 
 "We ain't goin' to commit a man for shootin' ii> 
 self-defense. Looks to me as if happiness was comin" 
 back to Paradise Valley. Bodine or Mooney made 
 most of the trouble." 
 
 They rode away then, and Mercedes stood at the 
 window watching them until they were only bobbing 
 specks on the horizon. Kent found her there, softly 
 crying. He sensed her interest in those bobbing 
 specks and unconsciously began watching them, too. 
 A turn in the road, and they disappeared. He felt 
 the girl wince but did not catch the softly muttered 
 "Madre de Dios, don't let him go away; I love him." 
 
CHAPTER XXXY 
 
 THREE days later Blaze sat in front of the Eldo- 
 rado Hotel in "Winnenmcca. The little town, 
 after the fashion of its big brothers, had settled down 
 to its routine existence. The flood and the election 
 had already held the stage overly long. Bodine and 
 his gang were on their way to Laramie, Brand had 
 been elected by the narrowest of margins, Esteban 
 had been removed to the Rancho, the true story of 
 the fallen Buck's reprisals and of Jose's death were 
 universally known : these were facts now, and accepted 
 as such. 
 
 Blaze had been cheered for a day and forgotten. 
 Certainly he preferred it. In more ways than one, 
 Brand was like him. The attorney had preached an 
 idea. The votes had not been for him, but for what 
 he had promised. The big ranches must go ! 
 
 He came down Bridge Street as Blaze waited for 
 the Paradise stage, walking with a seemingly careless 
 shuffle, the inevitable cigarette in his mouth. He 
 smiled as Blaze nodded. They had not spoken half 
 a dozen words to each other, and yet in their smile 
 flashed complete understanding. It is the way of 
 the true desert breed. Thanks to him, Blaze had been 
 released without the semblance of a trial. 
 
 One could not have failed to remark the difference 
 between the man who lounged in the shade of the 
 
 295 
 
296 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Eldorado and the Blaze Kildare who had ridden the 
 ranges for the Double A. Kildare had been ever 
 buoyant, half-smiling, but the man who waited for 
 the stage was a forlorn figure, sad of eye. 
 
 Blaze knew he had come to the time when he must 
 say good-by to Nevada : a day or two at the most, and 
 he would be going back to Wyoming. His Wind 
 River ranch claimed him for a dozen different tasks. 
 Then, too, he would be needed at Bodine's trial. 
 Wyoming was home, and yet Nevada had never 
 seemed so fair as on this glorious morning. Winne- 
 mucca Mountain, a towering, clean-limbed giant in the 
 clearness of early day, seemed to march into the very 
 outskirts of the town. Blaze could see the patch of 
 green which marked the China Gardens. South of 
 him the Harmony Range, all blues and purples now, 
 tantalized him. It made him think of the Tetons and 
 the Gros Ventres back home. But there was wine in 
 the air here such as even Wyoming did not know. 
 
 Blaze sighed disconsolately. Well enough he knew 
 the air was sweeter because of one who breathed it. 
 He was going up to Paradise to say good-by to her. 
 He dreaded the trip in some ways, because it was so 
 palpably a good-by trip. Pretty speeches were not 
 intended for his tongue. So lost in reverie was he 
 that he paid no attention to the man who took the 
 chair next to him. Imagine his surprise when he 
 heard him say: 
 
 1 'You ain't exactly what you 'd call a social fa- 
 vorite to-day, are ynh? M 
 
 " Melody! Why, you old son-of -a-gun ! " Blaze's 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 297 
 
 face broke into a smile. "Where you been?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "I been representin ', I '11 tell yuh!" Both were 
 happier over seeing each other than either would have 
 admitted. "I been all over Nevada since I saw you." 
 He laughed to himself. "Guess I was 'bout the only 
 one that didn't hear the fire-bell the other night. 
 You were right up 'mong the flames, were n 't yuh ? ' ' 
 
 "It was tolerably warm, all right. Go on tell me 
 'bout yourself." 
 
 ' ' I been workin ' down to the Bancho, helpin ' Kent. 
 We got the ditches all fixed up. Beginnin' to look 
 like itself again, except for the house. It '11 take a 
 lot of money for that work, but I guess Esteban won't 
 have no trouble borrowin' all he wants. Banks seems 
 to think pretty well of a Basque's word. Ain't no 
 reason why Esteban shouldn't get one crop of alfalfa 
 before snow flies. That '11 help get him over the 
 winter. ' ' 
 
 "You 're not telling me what I want to know," 
 said Blaze. "How is she?" 
 
 Melody had never caught quite that note in his 
 friend 's voice. He looked at him sharply. ' ' She don 't 
 talk much," he murmured. "She just looks as if she 
 was waitin', an' waitin'. God! wimmen are beyond 
 me. Kent 's seen Acklin. They had a big pow- 
 wow when it got noised around that Bodine had killed 
 our yearlin's and burnt the wool-house and all the 
 rest of it. The Big Boss is willin' to rebuild the dam 
 and let the Basques own their part of it. He 's seen 
 the handwritin' on the wall. Storin' up the snow 
 
298 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 water in the spring will give everybody all they 
 want." 
 
 "I guess that 's why Brand was smiling this morn- 
 ing/' Blaze answered. 
 
 The stage rolled up to the sidewalk and Blaze got 
 to his feet. 
 
 " Where you goin'?" asked Melody. 
 
 "To say good-by." 
 
 "I reckoned you would." The red-haired one 
 paused. Nothing but the hope of seeing Blaze had 
 brought him to town, but he would have denied it 
 most profanely had he been accused of it. "I may 
 not see you no more," he went on. "I 'm goin' to 
 Kelly Creek to-night. I stopped in Paradise on the 
 way down. Your horse is all right. I put that long 
 rope of mine on your saddle. Thought you might 
 like it" 
 
 Blaze climbed to his seat in the stage to hide his 
 embarrassment. He knew the reata Melody referred 
 to ; his favorite for many years, a finely woven Mex- 
 ican. He wanted to thank him, but he did not know 
 how to express his gratitude. He put his head through 
 the open window and said banteringly, "I '11 buy you 
 a drink for that if you 're here when I get back." 
 
 Melody knew, as well as a man can know a thing, 
 that Blaze was really telling him he appreciated the 
 rope, and that he would repay him some day without 
 counting the cost to himself, either. 
 
 "Come easy, go easy," he flung back at his friend. 
 "Don't you go spending all your wages for liquor. 
 Costs a lot of money to ride the trains these days." 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 299 
 
 The stage started then. Melody did not doubt for 
 a moment that this was good-by. Blaze waved his 
 hand to him. 
 
 ''Well, don't get hurt," the freckle-faced man 
 called to him. It was a stupid remark, but it served 
 to erase the emotion from his face. 
 
 Late afternoon found Blaze on the well-known trail 
 to the Rancho. Three days are almost too short a 
 time for even nature to work her miracles, but even 
 so the precious water was giving full promise of the 
 days to come. 
 
 Henaro, Mariano, and Teresa, and one or two of 
 the old hands had come back to work. The flood- 
 torn debris was being removed. There was hopeful- 
 ness and courage in the air. Blaze saw that the 
 patio which had been Jose's pride had received 
 marked attention. This last was Mercedes's doing; 
 her first relaxation in weeks. She rested now on the 
 steps where Acklin had given her the forgotten 
 vanity-case. Blaze was almost beside her before she 
 became aware of him. 
 
 "Senor!" It was a cry of gladness, accompanied 
 by a look that left Blaze all a-tremble. Her face no 
 longer held the pallor he had become accustomed to 
 seeing. 
 
 "You didn't think I would go without coming to 
 say good-by?" 
 
 Mercedes shook her head. 
 
 "No," she said, "I know you come. The Rancho 
 begins to look like old times, eh? You hear that the 
 Senor Acklin offer us part of the dam?" 
 
300 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "Yes; Melody told me. It 's wonderful! You Ve 
 won your fight. Has Kent gone home?" 
 
 "No, Senor. He is upstairs with Esteban. My 
 brother be glad to see you." 
 
 They turned at the sound of pattering feet. Basilio 
 had heard his big friend's voice. Blaze caught hold 
 of him. 
 
 "You come back to stay, Senor Blaze?" the child 
 questioned. 
 
 "No, no, little chief. I Ve got to go home, to 
 [Wyoming. I came to say good-by." 
 
 Basilio crept closer to him. 
 
 "I 'm going to miss you, old-timer," Blaze added 
 unevenly. 
 
 "Why you go away then? I want you to stay." 
 
 Blaze smiled. My Man had edged his way to his 
 master's side. 
 
 "You 're going to be real lonesome for me, little 
 chief?" 
 
 The child nodded his head. 
 
 He lifted Basilio so the little fellow could pet the 
 horse's cold muzzle. 
 
 "He '11 sort of make up for the loss of me, won't 
 he?" 
 
 "You 're going to give him to me, Mr. Blaze?" 
 
 "He 's yours, little chief. I '11 leave him in Para- 
 dise. You be good to him." 
 
 He lifted Basilio to My Man's back. When he 
 turned to Mercedes, she was looking away. She knew 
 the sacrifice he made in parting with My Man. 
 
 A few steps about the patio on the horse's back, 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 301 
 
 and Mercedes bade Basilic tell Terese that the Sefior 
 would stay for supper. When they were alone, Mer- 
 cedes searched the eyes of the man who sat beside her. 
 What a lot he had dared for her! Didn't he know 
 that she loved him? Why didn't he speak? 
 
 Mercedes failed to realize that her very nearness 
 rendered Blaze almost speechless. 
 
 "I hate to leave," he muttered at last, "and right 
 along I Ve been telling myself I 'd be mighty well 
 pleased to get home if Mooney went back, too. Did 
 you ever get mistaken about yourself like that?" 
 
 Mercedes did not answer lest her voice should be- 
 tray her. 
 
 ' ' I 'm awfully blue, ' ' Blaze went on. ' ' In spite of 
 all the trouble and the fighting, I 've been happier 
 here than ever before in my life. I Ve been trailing 
 Mooney for two years. I 've kept my word with the 
 Kid. When their trial 's over, I '11 be through. I '11 
 go back to my ranch. But no matter; I 'm going to 
 be homesick for Paradise Valley and you." 
 
 "Homesick for me?" Mercedes queried in broken 
 tones. 
 
 Blaze looked away, but he nodded his head. 
 
 "Yes, Mercedes. I 'm going to miss you." 
 
 My Man whinnied as Blaze stopped. 
 
 "I 'm going to miss him, too. And he '11 miss me. 
 I want you to ride him once in a while, Mercedes." 
 
 "I '11 be very good to him," she whispered in 
 hushed tones. "I '11 keep him until you come back, 
 Sefior Blaze." She stopped short and got up. "You 
 will be coming back, eh, Senor?" 
 
302 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 Blaze caught the note of fear, of concern, in her 
 question; but he failed to take advantage of it. In- 
 stead he murmured unhappily : " I '11 be coming back 
 some day, but when, quien sabef" 
 
 This was not at all what he wanted to say, nor was 
 it entirely the truth. He had a very definite idea of 
 when he would be coming back. He wanted to tell 
 her so ; to ask her to care for him, and to wait until 
 he came back. To his credit, he was not well experi- 
 enced in the ways of love. The modesty of the man 
 was his best virtue. So he pretended not to under- 
 stand, to be surprised; when it was only because he 
 could not believe that happiness, such as having her 
 meant, was to be his. Mercedes was so close, so 
 lovely. She seemed so well poised, so at ease, that 
 his own confusion was only magnified by comparison. 
 His habitual and often tested composure had deserted 
 him in his hour of need. Blaze was truly miserable, 
 and in an evident attempt to stem his own feelings, 
 he resorted to the bantering tone that had served him 
 so well in his man-world. 
 
 * ' And what will I find when I do come back ? ' ' He 
 tried to laugh good-naturedly. Mercedes bowed her 
 head. Blaze put a hand on each of her shoulders. 
 "I 11 ask Kent, or somebody, how Mercedes is, and 
 they '11 say, ' Humph ! She 's a big lady now. She 's 
 got a new name ! ' Maybe it will be Ugarde, or Rod- 
 riguez, or Liotard ! Yes, sir ! That 's what they '11 
 say. I '11 look at my old gray hair how time flies ! 
 But I '11 find you. And there you '11 be : a great lady 
 with three or four black-haired kiddies of your own!" 
 
WHISPERING SAGE 303 
 
 Mercedes shook her head. Her eyes were misty, 
 but she smiled. 
 
 "No!" she murmured. "I don't think so; not 
 those kids." 
 
 This was the Mercedes of old. 
 
 "Yes, you will!" Blaze grinned. "The right man 
 will come along, querida. You look sharp so that he 
 don't get by." 
 
 "Huh!" she muttered. "I look sharp, all right. 
 But he don't." 
 
 "He?" 
 
 "Sil That right man! He 's so blind like a bat. 
 But maybe he don 't want to see Basque girl. Still, if 
 he comes back with his gray hairs I '11 be here. 
 Arrascada! That 's a good name. I '11 keep it." 
 She forced a tantalizing smile to her face as she went 
 on: "You won't have to waste no time then when you 
 come." 
 
 Once before, in that very patio, they had looked 
 into each other's eyes as they did now. Blaze saw 
 there what he should have seen long ago. 
 
 "Oh, querida mia," he breathed. 
 
 Whatever else he intended to say was smothered 
 in Mercedes's hair. He caught her up in his arms 
 and held her to him. There was color in her face 
 again ; her lips red for his kisses. 
 
 "I '11 be coming back," she heard him say. 
 
 From a distance, it seemed, came her low, wild, tom- 
 boy laugh. He was wafted in spirit again to that 
 unforgettable day on the river. She was speaking, 
 and even her voice was reminiscent of that aftermoom. 
 
304 WHISPERING SAGE 
 
 "I guess maybe, " she managed to say, with a de- 
 fiant little toss of her head, "Mercedes will have those 
 three, four black-haired kids anyhow, huh?" 
 
 Minutes passed as they sat there without speaking. 
 The shadows began their evening tryst. Peace and 
 happiness settled down upon the patio. 
 
 In a room above, some one lighted a lamp. Its 
 mellow glow reached the man and girl on the steps. 
 His arm held her closer for a second and then relaxed. 
 Mercedes laughed liquidly. From its accustomed 
 place she caught up her guitar and crooned a plaintive 
 little Spanish love-song in a voice for Blaze's ears 
 alone : 
 
 If stars in the sky far above you 
 Have brought you, beloved, to me, 
 If, in their wisdom, they Ve chosen you, 
 How, then, can I help loving thee? 
 How, then, can I help loving thee? 
 
 "La-la-la-la-la, la, la-la-la, " throbbed the guitar. 
 Blaze closed his eyes. This was the end of the trail ! 
 Life began anew here. 
 
 A tear stole down Mercedes's cheek. Happiness had 
 overwhelmed her. The morrow no longer threatened. 
 She was ready for the dawn. 
 
The greatest pleasure in life is 
 that of reading. Why not then 
 own the books of great novelists 
 when the price is so small 
 
 r C Of all the amusements 'which can possibly 
 be imagined for a hard-working man, after 
 his daily toil, or, in its intervals, there is 
 nothing like reading an entertaining book. 
 It calls for no bodily exertion. It transports 
 him into a livelier, and gayer, and more di- 
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 him to his next day's work, and gives him 
 something to think of besides the mere 
 mechanical drudgery of his every-day occu- 
 pation something he can enjoy while absent, 
 and look forward with pleasure to return to. 
 
 r Ask your dealer for a /irt of the titles 
 in 'Surfs Popular Priced Fiction 
 
 In buying the books bearing the 
 A. L. Burt Company imprint 
 you are assured of wholesome, en- 
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