BUCKY FOLLOWS A HOT TRAIL

Wairarapa Times-Age, 31 March 1939, Page 10

BUCKY FOLLOWS A HOT TRAIL

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

BY

WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE.

CHAPTER V. (Continued).

“How do you happen to remember the date so well”

“Next day I heard about the bank robbery.” “And you associated these men with the robbery?” Bucky asked. “I wouldn’t say that.” The man’s shallow eyes shifted to the foreman and back again. “I thought it kinda funny. So late in the night you might almost call it morning.” “Were you in town today, Dieter?” Bucky asked casually. “No. What you getting at?” the rancher demanded. “And if I was, what then?” .

“Not important,” admitted Bucky. "Took you quite a whilfe to get down to us with the news, didn’t it, Dieter? Seven days to cover fourteen miles.” “I didn’t decide to come till I heard you were here,” the hillman said resentfully. “I don’t have to mix myself up in other folks’ business unless I want to. And I’ll say right damn now I don’t care whether you believe me or not.”

“Who told you I was back?”

Bucky’s careless question almost threw the ranchman off guard. He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it abruptly and glared at the young man.

“I dunno who told me,” he said at last. “Yes, 1 do too. It was Cad Fuller, on his way back from town.” Bucky knew that however Dieter had learned the news it had not been from Cad Fuller. Groping for a name, the man had seized on that of one of his neighbours.

Apparently Bucky brushed aside suspicion. “I expect you’re after that thousand-dollar reward my cousin posted for information leading to the finding of her father. I certainly hope you get it. If this man they’re holding prisoner turns out to be my uncle and we rescue him alive we shall always be grateful to you. We’ll start soon as we can get a bunch of the boys together." To Murphy he suggested, "Dieter must be hungry after his ride. How about asking Jim Wong to fix him up with some supper? A bottle of beer might go well.” While horses were being run up and saddled, Bucky and the foreman examined available weapons. It was on the cards that there might be a battle in the hills.

“Do you swallow Dutch’s story?” Tim asked.

“It’s full of holes, yet it may be true in the main,” Bucky said. “He couldn’t recognise for sure any of the men he saw on the ridge because it was too dark, but there was light enough for him to tell that one rider had his hands tied behind him and his horse was being led. He wasn’t in town today, but he knew I was back and lied about who told him. Maybe he is a decoy, or maybe he is just frightened because he is betraying the Red Rock outfit for the reward. We’ll know which later.”

‘Hmp!” grunted Tim. “We may not know it if he leads us into an ambush and we’re wiped out.” "Dutch is going to ride between you and me. We’ll watch him every foot of the way. If and when we get close to a trap he’ll show it by his nervousness. He’ll have to arrange his own getaway before the band begins to play. Probably he’ll want to drop oack for a minute or two. That will be a signal for us to look out.” “He’s no good,” the foreman said sourly. “Betraying either us or his neighbour thieves. If he isn’t a rustler, preying on CC stuff, I’m a Mexican. We've known it for years, but we can’t prove it.”

Bucky broke a .45 and examined it. ‘■Because he’s that kind of treacherous scoundrel his story may be true. The thousand dollars would tempt him, even though his story may be true. The thousand dollars would tempt him, even though he knows the risk of giving away Brad Davis and his crowd. On the other hand—” “On the other hand,” Murphy finished for him dryly, ‘‘we won’t be sitting on any horseshoes, since likely enough we’re the lambs being led to tne slaughter.” ‘‘Maybe we’ll turn out wolves in sheep’s clothing,” Bucky amended. “Dieter’s story may be bait to draw us into an ambush. I grant you that. These Red Rock scoundrels know that I think Uncle Cliff has been either killed or kidnapped. So they feed us a little come-on stuff. That’s a possibility. We’ll have to take a chance, as slight a one as we can.” “One thing is sure,” the foreman said harshly. “Tney’re guilty as hell of the First National crime, whichever way the cat jumps. If Dieter’s story is true, they took Cliff. If it isn’t, they are trying to wipe you and me out because they're afraid we will hang the goods on them if they don’t.” “You go too fast for me, Tim,” his friend demurred. “Couldn’t it be this way? Cliff has gone. His name is under a cloud. So is mine. Some people may even suspect you, because you have so close to us. Now would be the time to rub us out. Without a leader- left on the CC, they could raid our range and run off thousands of cattle; and in addition to that by destroying us pay all debts in full.” “Hmp!” snorted Murphy. "It might. None the less I’m of the same opinion still.”

Eight of them took the road, not counting Dieter. After five miles, they wound up into the hills. Most of the men moved in single file, not too close together. Dieter was flanked by Bucky and the foreman, except when the path was too narrow. Then one of them went in front of him, the other just behind.

“We’re going all ’round Robin Hood’s barn,” complained the hillman. "We’d ought to cut up past Gillespie’s.” “More scenery this way,” Bucky told him briefly. Dutch slid a suspicious look at him, but dropped the subject. In the darkness it was rough going. The horses clambered through greasewood, flung aside scrub oak. Boulders filled the beds of dry streams as they ploughed up gorges. Great hills surrounded them. After the moon came out fantastic shadows made nerves jumpy. It was possible that any moment the blast of gunfire would shatter the stillness. Possible, but not probable. Bucky took pains to explain that they were working into the Red Rock country by a flank movement. If the hillmen

were looking for them, it would not be by this approach. “What you mean, looking for you?” Dieter blustered.

Murphy explained, eyeing him coldly. “Some of them may be mind readers, and may know you’re giving them away, Dutch.” “You’ve acted all along like I’m lying to you,” the ranchman protested sulkily. “We know you wouldn’t do that, Dutch, not one with a heart of gold like yours,” the foreman jeered. “Especially since you know we’d get excited right away if there was trouble and pour a pint of lead into you.”

The man was shaken. His grey face twitched. “I wish I’d never come down to tell you what I know. I’m quitting you here. You can go on, or you can go back. I don’t care which.” “You’re staying with us,” Bucky told him curtly. “Looky here,” the man whined. “I’m not looking for trouble. I came down to do you a service and you treat me like I’m a hydrophobia skunk.”

"You’ve got a just complaint, if you’re really trying to do us a service,” Buck admitted. “Put it in the bill, Dieter. One hundred dollars extra for hurting your feelings .... All right, boys. The horses have quit blowing. We’ll be on our way again.”

CHAPTER VI. , They clambered up a gully-filled trail down which water had poured in torrents during the rainy season. It brought them to a hill ledge, along which the horses crept in the semidarkness, their hoofs slithering on a down grade in outcrops of quartz and disintegrated granite. To their right, so close that a bad slip might have plunged mount and rider into it, yawned the shadowy chasm of the gulch, so deep chat the eye could not pierce the lake of blackness at the bottom. A great boulder field of immense rocks stretched over the mountain face above the trail. They were in the Red Rock country now.

Tim Murphy had gone forward to lead the party, and a young fellow named Curly Teeters was on guard behind the hillman.

Bitterly Dieter complained to him. “I’m not going to stand for it. This little squirt Cameron has got no right to hold me here. I’m a free man, and I don’t have to let him drag me around.”

“That’s right,” Curly agreed cheerfully. “You can jump into the gulch any time you’ve a mind to.” Bucky turned in his saddle. “No talking back there. “We’re getting close.”

They dropped down to a stream, crossed it, followed the bank. Bucky gave instructions for his men to keep well apart. Just ahead of them was Dolores Canon, a likely point of attack. Soon now, he thought, nerves taut.

Dieter swung down from the saddle. “ ’S matter, Dutch?” inquired Curly. “Saddle’s loose. Got to tighten the cinch. You go anead. I’ll catch up.” Bucky rode back. "What’s up?” Curly was dismounting. “Going to help Dutch fix his saddle,” he explained.

“I don’t want no help,” Dieter exploded. “You lemme alone. I ain’t so crippled I can’t tighten a cinch, you doggoned fool.” To the man ahead of him Bucky called a message. “Tell Tim to wait. We’re held up a minute. I’m going to take the lead from here. Ask him to come back.

Dieter’s horse turned, so that it was facing in the direction from which they had come. He was standing back of it fumbling with something. Bucky had a sudden suspicion that it might not be the cinch.

He brushed past Curly’s horse, which had begun to move up the creek after the others.

“Keep back, both of you!” Dieter cried.

In the moonlight there was the flash of steel. A gun roared. The bullet whistled past Curly’s shoulder. Curly stopped in his tracks, completely taken by surprise. Dieter fired again, just before Bucky crowded forward into him. The weight of the horse hurled the hillman against the trunk of a pine. He clung to it heavily, gun still in hand jarred by the shock of the impact.

Bucky covered him. “Shove up your hands,” he ordered. The hillman jerked his revolver up, toward Bucky this time. He never had a chance to fire it. Two weapons barked, so close together that the sound of them merged into once. Dieter’s body sagged, slid down the trunk of the tree.

Curly moved cautiously toward him

His face was drawn and startled. “He shot first, Bucky. I had to do it,” young Teeters said. “I know,” Bucky agreed. “My bullet is in his body too.”

He got down from the saddle and examined the prone figure. The other members of the party crowded round. They asked questions, offered opinions.

“Examine his gun,” Bucky said quietly to the foreman. Murphy did so. “Two shells empty —just fired,” he reported. “He tried to slip away,” Bucky told the men. “Pretend his cinch was loose. When we came close he drew his gun and fired twice at Curly. Even then I gave him a chance to throw up his hands. But he wouldn't have it that way. Raised his revolver to fire at me. Then we let him have it.”

"Explanation satisfactory to me,” Murphy said. “All right with you boys?”'

The chorus of assent was unanimous. “Why did he do such a crazy thing?" Bud Keller asked. “He knew the Red Rock gang is waiting for us in Dolores Canon and he didn’t want to be blasted down when they poured a volley into us,” Bucky answered coollv. “His first idea was to light out. When we spiked that he had to try to shoot his way clear.”

“They're waiting for us —right in there?” Keller said, fumbling his words in surprise. "Gosh all hemlock, how d’you know?” It doesn’t make sense any other way. Why else would he be in such a hurry to get away. He had to escape now. A little later wouldn’t do.

“We going in after these birds?” Teeters asked.

“No. But we’re going to make sure they are waiting for us.” (To be Continued).