Brand Blotters - Page 91/180

Melissy needed to hear no more to understand the situation, but if she

had, the next words of Boone would have cleared it up.

"When I met up with you and happened on the news that you was taking a

message to Farnum, and when I got onto the fact that Morse, as you call

him, was moving his sheep across the dead line, relying on you having got

his letter to the cattlemen to make it safe, it seemed luck too good to

be true. All I had to do was to persuade you to stay right here with me,

and Mr. Morse would walk into the pass and be wiped out. You get the

beauty of it, my friend, don't you? I'm responsible, but it will be

Farnum and his friends that will bear the blame. There ain't but one flaw

in the whole thing: Morse will never know that it's me that killed him."

"You devil!" cried the boy, with impotent passion.

"I've waited ten years for this day, and it's come at last. Don't you

think for a moment I'm going to weaken. No, sir! You'll sit there with my

gun poked in your face just as you've sat for six hours. It's my say-so

to-day, sir," Boone retorted, malevolence riding triumph in his voice.

Melissy's first impulse was to confront the man, her next to slip away

without being discovered and then give the alarm.

"Yes, sir," continued the cowpuncher; "I scored on Mr. Morse two or three

nights ago, when I played hell with one of his sheep camps, and to-day I

finish up with him. His sheep have been watched for weeks, and at the

first move it's all up with him and them. Farnum's vaqueros will pay my

debt in full. Just as soon as I'm right sure of it I'll be jogging along

to Dead Man's Cache, and you can go order the coffin for your boss."

The venom of the man was something to wonder at. It filled the listening

girl with sick apprehension. She had not known that such hatred could live

in the world.

Quietly she led her pony back, mounted, and made a wide detour until she

struck the trail above. Already she could hear the distant bleat of sheep

which told her that the herd was entering the pass. Recklessly she urged

her pony forward, galloping into the saddle between the peaks without

regard to the roughness of the boulder-strewn path. A voice from above

hailed her with a startled shout as she flew past. Again, a shot rang out,

the bullet whistling close to her ear. But nothing could stop her till she

reached the man she meant to save.