Ranching For Sylvia Volume-554 by Harold Bindloss (chrome ebook reader .TXT) 📕

George.

Flett Nodded.

"You Saw Mr. Grant Attacked And The Horses Run Off.  You Can Identify

One Man, And We'll Connect Him With The Rest."

He Took Out A Paper And Handed It To George.

"It's My Duty To Serve You With This; And Now That It's Done, I'll Warn

You To Watch Out Until After The Trial.  If We Can Convict These

Fellows, We Smash The Crowd, But We'd Be Helpless Without You."

George Opened The Document And Found It A Formal Summons To Attend The

Court At Regina On A Date Specified.  Then He Produced Another Paper

And Gave It To Flett With A Smile.

"The Opposition Seem To Recognize My Importance, And They Move More

Quickly Than The Police."

The Trooper Took The Letter, Which Was Typed And Bore No Date Or Name

Of Place.

"'Keep Off This Trial And You'll Have No More Trouble,'" He Read Aloud.

"'Back Up The Police And You'll Be Sorry.  If You Mean To Drop Them,

Drive Over To The Butte, Thursday, And Get Supper At The Queen's.'"

"Yesterday Was Thursday, And I Didn't Go," George Said After A Moment's

Silence.

The Quiet Intimation Was Not A Surprise To Any Of Them, And Flett

Nodded As He Examined The Letter.

"Not Much Of A Clue," He Remarked.  "Toronto Paper That's Sold At Every

Store; Mailed Two Stations Down The Line.  Nobody Would Have Met You At

The Queen's, But Most Anybody In Town Would Know If You Had Been There.

Anyway, I'll Take This Along." He Rose.  "I Can't Stop, But I Want To

Say We're Not Afraid Of Your Backing Down."

He Rode Off In A Few More Minutes And After A While The Grants Took

Their Leave, But Flora Walked Down The Trail With George While The Team

Was Being Harnessed.

"You'll Be Careful, Won't You?" She Said.  "These Men Are Dangerous;

They Know Yours Is The Most Important Evidence.  I Shall Be Anxious

Until The Trial."

There Was Something In Her Eyes And Voice That Sent A Curious Thrill

Through George.

"I Don't Think That's Needful; I Certainly Won't Be Reckless," He Said.

Then Flora Got Into The Vehicle; And During The Next Week Or Two George

Took Precautions.  Indeed, He Now And Then Felt A Little Uncomfortable

When He Had Occasion To Pass A Shadowy Bluff.  He Carried A Pistol When

He Went Around The Outbuildings At Night, And Fell Into A Habit Of

Stopping To Listen, Ready To Strike Or Shoot, Each Time He Opened The

Door Of One In The Dark.

For All That, Nothing Occurred To Excite Suspicion, And After A While

He Felt Inclined To Smile At His Nervousness.  At Length, One Day When

The Trial Was Close At Hand, And Edgar Had Gone To The Butte, The

Mail-Carrier Brought Him A Note From Grant.

It Consisted Of A Couple Of Lines Asking Him To Come Over During The

Evening, And As Supper Had Been Finished Two Hours Before, George

Realized That There Was Not Much Time To Spare.  Laying Down The Note,

He Walked To The Door And Called His Canadian Hired Man.

"Put The Saddle On The Brown Horse, Jake; I'm Going To Grant's."

The Man Did As He Was Bidden, And When George Was About To Mount Handed

Him A Repeating Rifle.

"Better Take This Along; Cylinder's Full," He Said.  "It Will Be Dark

Before You Get There."

George Hesitated.  The Rifle Was Heavy, But It Was A More Reliable

Weapon Than A Pistol, And He Rode Off With It.  The Sun Had Dipped When

He Started, The Air Was Rapidly Cooling, And After Spending The Day

Sinking Holes For Fence Posts In The Scorching Sun, He Found The Swift

Motion And The Little Breeze That Fanned His Face Pleasant.  To The

Northwest, A Flush Of Vivid Crimson Glowed Along The Horizon, But The

Sweep Of Grass Was Growing Dim And A Bluff He Reached At Length Stood

Out, A Sharp-Cut, Dusky Mass, Against The Fading Light.  He Pulled Up

His Horse On Its Outskirts.  A Narrow Trail Led Through The Wood, Its

Entrance Marked By A Dark Gap Among The Shadowy Trees, And It Somehow

Looked Forbidding.  The Bluff, However, Stretched Across His Path; It

Was Getting Late, And George Was A Little Impatient Of The Caution He

Had Been Forced To Exercise.  Laying His Rifle Ready Across The Saddle,

He Sent His Horse Forward.

It Was Quite Dark In The Bluff, Though Here And There He Could See A

Glimmer Of Faint Red And Orange Between The Trees, And The Stillness

Had A Slightly Disturbing Effect On Him.  Not A Leaf Moved, The Beat Of

His Horse's Hoofs Rang Sharply Down The Narrow Trail Above Which The

Thin Birch Branches Met.  He Wanted To Get Out Into The Open, Where He

Could See About, As Soon As Possible.  There Was, However, No

Ostensible Cause For Uneasiness And He Rode On Quietly, Until He Heard

A Soft Rustling Among The Slender Trunks.  Pulling Up The Horse, He

Called Out, And, As He Half Expected, Got No Answer.  Then He Cast A

Swift Glance Ahead.  There Was A Gleam Of Dim Light Not Far Away Where

The Trail Led Out Of The Bluff.  Throwing The Rifle To His Shoulder,

George Fired Into The Shadows.

The Horse Plunged Violently And Broke Into A Frightened Gallop.  George

Heard A Whistle And A Sharper Rustling, And Rode Toward The Light At A

Furious Pace.  Then His Horse Suddenly Stumbled And Came Down.  The

Rifle Flew Out Of George's Hand, And He Was Hurled Against A Tree.  The

Next Moment He Felt Himself Rudely Seized, And What He Thought Was A

Jacket Was Wrapped About His Head.  Shaken By His Fall, He Could Make

No Effective Resistance, And He Was Dragged A Few Yards Through The

Bush And Flung Into A Wagon.  He Tried To Pull The Jacket From His

Face, And Failed; Somebody Brutally Beat Him Down Against The Side Of

The Vehicle When He Struggled To Get Up.  He Heard A Whip Crack, The

Wagon Swayed And Jolted, And He Knew The Team Was Starting At A Gallop.

It Was Nearly Midnight When Edgar Returned From The Settlement And Saw,

To His Surprise, Lights Still Burning In The Homestead.  Entering The

Living-Room, He Found Grierson Sitting There With Jake, And It Struck

Him That They Looked Uneasy.

"What's Keeping You Up?" He Asked.

"I Thought I'd Wait For The Boss," Said The Canadian.  "He Went Over To

Grant's After Supper, And He's Not Come Back."

"That's Curious.  He Said Nothing About Going."

"A Note Came By The Mail.  It's Lying Yonder."

Edgar Picked It Up And Brought It Near The Lamp.  The Paper Was Good

And Printed With Grant's Postal Address, Which Was Lengthy.

"I Figured I'd Go And Meet Him," Jake Resumed, "Took The Shot-Gun And

Rode Through The Bluff.  Didn't See Anything Of Him, And It Struck Me

Grant Might Have Kept Him All Night, As It Was Getting Late.  He's

Stayed There Before."

Edgar Examined The Note, For He Was Far From Satisfied.  George Had

Only Twice Spent A Night At Grant's, Once When He Was Driving Cattle,

And Again When It Would Have Been Risky To Face The Weather.  The Paper

Was Undoubtedly Grant's, But Edgar Could Not Identify The Farmer's

Hand; The Notes That Had Come Over Had Been Written By Flora.  Then He

Remembered That George Had Bought Some Implements From Grant, And Had

Filed The Rancher's Receipt.  Edgar Hurriedly Found It And Compared It

With The Letter.  Then His Face Grew Troubled, For The Writing Was Not

The Same.

"I'm Afraid Mr. Lansing Never Got To Grant's," He Said.  "I'll Ride

Over At Once."

"Then I'm Coming," Jake Said Shortly.  "I'll Bring The Gun Along."

Grierson Lifted A Clenched Brown Hand.

"So Am I!  If Mr. Lansing's Hurt, Somebody's Got To Pay!"

Edgar Was Stirred By Something In Their Looks And Voices; George Had

Gained A Hold On These Men's Loyalty Which The Regular Payment Of Wages

Could Never Have Given Him.  He Merely Signified Assent, And, Running

Out, Sprang Into The Saddle.  The Others Had Evidently Had Their Horses

Ready, For He Heard Them Riding After Him In A Minute Or Two, Though He

Was Galloping Recklessly Through The Bluff When They Came Up.  The

Homestead Was Dark When They Reached It, And They Shouted Once Or Twice

Before Grant Came Down.

"Is George Here?" Edgar Asked.

"No," Said Grant, "We Didn't Expect Him."

"Then Get On Your Clothes Quick!  There's Work On Hand!"

Grant Brought Him In And Struck A Light, Then Hurriedly Left The Room;

And Flora Came With Him, Fully Dressed, When He Reappeared.  Edgar

Supposed She Had Heard His Sharp Inquiry At The Door, And He Noticed

That Her Expression Was Strained.  He Threw The Note On The Table.

"After What You Said, I Needn't Ask If You Wrote That."

"I Didn't," Grant Told Him.  "It's Not Like My Hand.  I Suppose Lansing

Started When He Got It And Has Not Come Back?"

"You Have Guessed Right.  Where Are They Likely To Have Waylaid Him,

And Where Will They Probably Take Him?"

"The Bluff, Sure.  They Might Head North For Empty Country, Or South

For The Frontier."

"The Frontier," Flora Broke In.

"It's What I Think," Said Edgar.  "Shall I Send A Man For Flett, Or

Will You?"

"That's Fixed, Anyway," Said A Voice Outside The Open Door.  "We're Not

Going."

It Was Obvious That The Hired