The Lone Star Ranger - Zane Grey (ereader for comics txt) š
- Author: Zane Grey
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Duane saw that the room was comfortably, even luxuriously furnished. There must have been a good trail, he thought, else how could all that stuff have been packed in there. Most assuredly it could not have come over the trail he had traveled. Presently he heard the men go outside, and their voices became indistinct. Then Knell came in and seated himself without any of his chiefās ease. He seemed preoccupied and, as always, cold.
āWhatās wrong, Knell? Why didnāt you get here sooner?ā queried Longstreth.
āPoggin, damn him! Weāre on the outs again.ā
āWhat for?ā
āAw, he neednāt have got sore. Heās breakinā a new hoss over at Faraway, an you know him where a hoss ās concerned. That kept him, I reckon, more than anythinā.ā
āWhat else? Get it out of your system so we can go on to the new job.ā
āWell, it begins back a ways. I donāt know how long agoā weeksāa stranger rode into Ord anā got down easy-like as if he owned the place. He seemed familiar to me. But I wasnāt sure. We looked him over, anā I left, tryinā to place him in my mind.ā
āWhatād he look like?ā
āRangy, powerful man, white hair over his temples, still, hard face, eyes like knives. The way he packed his guns, the way he walked anā stood anā swung his right hand showed me what he was. You canāt fool me on the gun-sharp. Anā he had a grand horse, a big black.ā
āIāve met your man,ā said Longstreth.
āNo!ā exclaimed Knell. It was wonderful to hear surprise expressed by this man that did not in the least show it in his strange physiognomy. Knell laughed a short, grim, hollow laugh. āBoss, this here big gent drifts into Ord again anā makes up to Jim Fletcher. Jim, you know, is easy led. He likes men. Anā when a posse come along trailinā a blind lead, huntinā the wrong way for the man who held up No. 6, why, Jimāhe up anā takes this stranger to be the fly road-agent anā cottons to him. Got money out of him sure. Anā thatās what stumps me more. Whatās this manās game? I happen to know, boss, that he couldnāt have held up No. 6.ā
āHow do you know?ā demanded Longstreth.
āBecause I did the job myself.ā
A dark and stormy passion clouded the chiefās face.
āDamn you, Knell! Youāre incorrigible. Youāre unreliable. Another break like that queers you with me. Did you tell Poggin?ā
āYes. Thatās one reason we fell out. He raved. I thought he was goinā to kill me.ā
āWhy did you tackle such a risky job without help or plan?ā
āIt offered, thatās all. Anā it was easy. But it was a mistake. I got the country anā the railroad hollerinā for nothinā. I just couldnāt help it. You know what idleness means to one of us. You know also that this very life breeds fatality. Itās wrongāthatās why. I was born of good parents, anā I know whatās right. Weāre wrong, anā we canāt beat the end, thatās all. Anā for my part I donāt care a damn when that comes.ā
āFine wise talk from you, Knell,ā said Longstreth, scornfully. āGo on with your story.ā
āAs I said, Jim cottons to the pretender, anā they get chummy. Theyāre together all the time. You can gamble Jim told all he knew anā then some. A little liquor loosens his tongue. Several of the boys rode over from Ord, anā one of them went to Poggin anā says Jim Fletcher has a new man for the gang. Poggin, you know, is always ready for any new man. He says if one doesnāt turn out good he can be shut off easy. He rather liked the way this new part of Jimās was boosted. Jim anā Poggin always hit it up together. So until I got on the deal Jimās pard was already in the gang, without Poggin or you ever seeinā him. Then I got to figurinā hard. Just where had I ever seen that chap? As it turned out, I never had seen him, which accounts for my beinā doubtful. Iād never forget any man Iād seen. I dug up a lot of old papers from my kit anā went over them. Letters, pictures, clippinās, anā all that. I guess I had a pretty good notion what I was lookinā for anā who I wanted to make sure of. At last I found it. Anā I knew my man. But I didnāt spring it on Poggin. Oh no! I want to have some fun with him when the time comes. Heāll be wilder than a trapped wolf. I sent Blossom over to Ord to get word from Jim, anā when he verified all this talk I sent Blossom again with a message calculated to make Jim hump. Poggin got sore, said heād wait for Jim, anā I could come over here to see you about the new job. Heād meet me in Ord.ā
Knell had spoken hurriedly and low, now and then with passion. His pale eyes glinted like fire in ice, and now his voice fell to a whisper.
āWho do you think Fletcherās new man is?ā
āWho?ā demanded Longstreth.
āBUCK DUANE!ā
Down came Longstrethās boots with a crash, then his body grew rigid.
āThat Nueces outlaw? That two-shot ace-of-spades gun-thrower who killed Bland, Allowayā?ā
āAnā Hardin.ā Knell whispered this last name with more feeling than the apparent circumstance demanded.
āYes; and Hardin, the best one of the Rim Rock fellowsāBuck Duane!ā
Longstreth was so ghastly white now that his black mustache seemed outlined against chalk. He eyed his grim lieutenant. They understood each other without more words. It was enough that Buck Duane was there in the Big Bend. Longstreth rose presently and reached for a flask, from which he drank, then offered it to Knell. He waved it aside.
āKnell,ā began the chief, slowly, as he wiped his lips, āI gathered you have some grudge against this Buck Duane.ā
āYes.ā
āWell, donāt be a fool now and do what Poggin or almost any of you men wouldādonāt meet this Buck Duane. Iāve reason to believe heās a Texas Ranger now.ā
āThe hell you say!ā exclaimed Knell.
āYes. Go to Ord and give Jim Fletcher a hunch. Heāll get Poggin, and theyāll fix even Buck Duane.ā
āAll right. Iāll do my best. But if I run into Duaneāā
āDonāt run into him!ā Longstrethās voice fairly rang with the force of its passion and command. He wiped his face, drank again from the flask, sat down, resumed his smoking, and, drawing a paper from his vest pocket he began to study it.
āWell, Iām glad thatās settled,ā he said, evidently referring to the Duane matter. āNow for the new job. This is October the eighteenth. On or before the twenty-fifth there will be a shipment of gold reach the Rancherās Bank of Val Verde. After you return to Ord give Poggin these orders. Keep the gang quiet. You, Poggin, Kane, Fletcher, Panhandle Smith, and Boldt to be in on the secret and the job. Nobody else. Youāll leave Ord on the twenty-third, ride across country by the trail till you get within sight of Mercer. Itās a hundred miles from Bradford to Val Verdeāabout the same from Ord. Time your travel to get you near Val Verde on the morning of the twenty-sixth. You wonāt have to more than trot your horses. At two oāclock in the afternoon, sharp, ride into town and up to the Rancherās Bank. Val Verdeās a pretty big town. Never been any holdups there. Town feels safe. Make it a clean, fast, daylight job. Thatās all. Have you got the details?ā
Knell did not even ask for the dates again.
āSuppose Poggin or me might be detained?ā he asked.
Longstreth bent a dark glance upon his lieutenant.
āYou never can tell whatāll come off,ā continued Knell. āIāll do my best.ā
āThe minute you see Poggin tell him. A job on hand steadies him. And I say againālook to it that nothing happens. Either you or Poggin carry the job through. But I want both of you in it. Break for the hills, and when you get up in the rocks where you can hide your tracks head for Mount Ord. When allās quiet again Iāll join you here. Thatās all. Call in the boys.ā
Like a swift shadow and as noiseless Duane stole across the level toward the dark wall of rock. Every nerve was a strung wire. For a little while his mind was cluttered and clogged with whirling thoughts, from which, like a flashing scroll, unrolled the long, baffling order of action. The game was now in his hands. He must cross Mount Ord at night. The feat was improbable, but it might be done. He must ride into Bradford, forty miles from the foothills before eight oāclock next morning. He must telegraph MacNelly to be in Val Verde on the twenty-fifth. He must ride back to Ord, to intercept Knell, face him be denounced, kill him, and while the iron was hot strike hard to win Pogginās half-won interest as he had wholly won Fletcherās. Failing that last, he must let the outlaws alone to bide their time in Ord, to be free to ride on to their new job in Val Verde. In the mean time he must plan to arrest Longstreth. It was a magnificent outline, incredible, alluring, unfathomable in its nameless certainty. He felt like fate. He seemed to be the iron consequences falling upon these doomed outlaws.
Under the wall the shadows were black, only the tips of trees and crags showing, yet he went straight to the trail. It was merely a grayness between borders of black. He climbed and never stopped. It did not seem steep. His feet might have had eyes. He surmounted the wall, and, looking down into the ebony gulf pierced by one point of light, he lifted a menacing arm and shook it. Then he strode on and did not falter till he reached the huge shelving cliffs. Here he lost the trail; there was none; but he remembered the shapes, the points, the notches of rock above. Before he reached the ruins of splintered ramparts and jumbles of broken walls the moon topped the eastern slope of the mountain, and the mystifying blackness he had dreaded changed to magic silver light. It seemed as light as day, only soft, mellow, and the air held a transparent sheen. He ran up the bare ridges and down the smooth slopes, and, like a goat, jumped from rock to rock. In this light he knew his way and lost no time looking for a trail. He crossed the divide and then had all downhill before him. Swiftly he descended, almost always sure of his memory of the landmarks. He did not remember having studied them in the ascent, yet here they were, even in changed light, familiar to his sight. What he had once seen was pictured on his mind. And, true as a deer striking for home, he reached the canon where he had left his horse.
Bullet was quickly and easily found. Duane threw on the saddle and pack, cinched them tight, and resumed his descent. The worst was now to come. Bare downward steps in rock, sliding, weathered slopes, narrow black gullies, a thousand openings in a maze of broken stoneāthese Duane had to descend in fast time, leading a giant of a horse. Bullet cracked the loose fragments, sent them rolling, slid on the scaly slopes, plunged down the steps, followed like a faithful dog at Duaneās heels.
Hours passed as moments. Duane was equal to his great opportunity. But he could not quell that self in him which reached back over the lapse of lonely, searing years and found the boy in him. He who had
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