Briefly, she told him what had happened. As word after word of her
account fell upon Hampton's ears, his eyes widened, the stiffness of
his bearing fell away, the glint of anger went out of his eyes, a look
of wonder came into them. And when she had finished, Hampton did not
hesitate. He turned quickly and put out two hands, one to Lee, one to
Burkitt.
"I was a chump, same as usual," he grunted. "Forget it if you can. I
can't."
They went on more swiftly now, the four of them together, Judith
insisting that that last sip of brandy had put new life into her. In a
little, seeing that Judith did in fact have herself in hand, Bud Lee,
with a hidden pressure of her hand, left them, hurrying on ahead,
trying to reach Carson or some of the men in Pocket Valley and to get
horses.
As he drew nearer the ranch Lee saw smoke rising from the north ridge.
Again he could turn his thoughts a little to what lay in front of him,
wondering what luck Carson had had in his double task of fighting fire
and holding off the buyers.
At any rate, the Blue Lake stock had not been driven off. The bawling
of the big herds told him that before he saw the countless tossing
horns. Then, dropping down into Pocket Valley from above, he found his
own string of horses feeding quietly. Beyond, the cattle. At first he
thought that the animals had been left to their own devices. He saw no
rider anywhere. Hurrying on, he shouted loudly. After he had called
repeatedly, there floated to him from somewhere down on the lower flat
an answering yell. And presently Carson himself came riding to meet
him.
Carson's face was smeared with blood; one bruised, battered, discolored
eye was swelling shut, but in his uninjured eye there was triumphant
gladness.
"We got the sons-o'-guns on the run, Bud," he announced from afar.
"Killed their pesky fires out before they got a good start, crippled a
couple of 'em, counting Benny, the cook, in on the deal, chased their
deputy sheriff off with a flea in his ear, an' set tight, holding our
own."
"Where'd you get the eye, Carson?" demanded Lee.
Carson grinned broadly, an evil grin of a distorted, battered face.
"You want to take a good look at ol' Poker Face," he chuckled. "He
won't cheat no more games of crib for a coon's age. I jus' nacherally
beat him all to hell, Bud."
"Where are the rest of the men?" Lee asked.
"Watching the fires an' seeing no more don't get started."
Then Lee told him of Judith. Carson's good eye opened wide with
interest. Carson's bruised lips sought to form for a whistle which
managed to give them the air of a maidenly pout.
"He had the nerve!" he muttered. "Trevors had the nerve! Bud, we
ought to make a little call on that gent."
Then, seeing Lee's face, Carson realized that anything he might have to
remark on this score was superfluous. Lee had already thought of that.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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