riders of the purple sage-第10部分

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at　a　shock　as　when　he　first　removed　it　from　her　face。　For　in　the　woman　he　had　forgotten　the　rustler；　and　this　black　strip　of　felt…cloth　established　the　identity　of　Oldring's　Masked　Rider。　Venters　had　solved　the　mystery。　He　slipped　his　rifle　under　her；　and；　lifting　her　carefully　upon　it；　he　began　to　retrace　his　steps。　The　dog　trailed　in　his　shadow。　And　the　horse；　that　had　stood　drooping　by；　followed　without　a　call。　Venters　chose　the　deepest　tufts　of　grass　and　clumps　of　sage　on　his　return。　From　time　to　time　he　glanced　over　his　shoulder。　He　did　not　rest。　His　concern　was　to　avoid　jarring　the　girl　and　to　hide　his　trail。　Gaining　the　narrow　canyon；　he　turned　and　held　close　to　the　wall　till　he　reached　his　hiding…place。　When　he　entered　the　dense　thicket　of　oaks　he　was　hard　put　to　it　to　force　a　way　through。　But　he　held　his　burden　almost　upright；　and　by　slipping　side　wise　and　bending　the　saplings　he　got　in。　Through　sage　and　grass　he　hurried　to　the　grove　of　silver　spruces。

He　laid　the　girl　down；　almost　fearing　to　look　at　her。　Though　marble　pale　and　cold；　she　was　living。　Venters　then　appreciated　the　tax　that　long　carry　had　been　to　his　strength。　He　sat　down　to　rest。　Whitie　sniffed　at　the　pale　girl　and　whined　and　crept　to　Venters's　feet。　Ring　lapped　the　water　in　the　runway　of　the　spring。

Presently　Venters　went　out　to　the　opening；　caught　the　horse　and；　leading　him　through　the　thicket；　unsaddled　him　and　tied　him　with　a　long　halter。　Wrangle　left　his　browsing　long　enough　to　whinny　and　toss　his　head。　Venters　felt　that　he　could　not　rest　easily　till　he　had　secured　the　other　rustler's　horse；　so；　taking　his　rifle　and　calling　for　Ring；　he　set　out。　Swiftly　yet　watchfully　he　made　his　way　through　the　canyon　to　the　oval　and　out　to　the　cattle　trail。　What　few　tracks　might　have　betrayed　him　he　obliterated；　so　only　an　expert　tracker　could　have　trailed　him。　Then；　with　many　a　wary　backward　glance　across　the　sage；　he　started　to　round　up　the　rustler's　horse。　This　was　unexpectedly　easy。　He　led　the　horse　to　lower　ground；　out　of　sight　from　the　opposite　side　of　the　oval　along　the　shadowy　western　wall；　and　so　on　into　his　canyon　and　secluded　camp。

The　girl's　eyes　were　open；　a　feverish　spot　burned　in　her　cheeks　she　moaned　something　unintelligible　to　Venters；　but　he　took　the　movement　of　her　lips　to　mean　that　she　wanted　water。　Lifting　her　head；　he　tipped　the　canteen　to　her　lips。　After　that　she　again　lapsed　into　unconsciousness　or　a　weakness　which　was　its　counterpart。　Venters　noted；　however；　that　the　burning　flush　had　faded　into　the　former　pallor。

The　rustler's　sun　set　behind　the　high　canyon　rim；　and　a　cool　shade　darkened　the　walls。　Venters　fed　the　dogs　and　put　a　halter　on　the　dead　rustlers　horse。　He　allowed　Wrangle　to　browse　free。　This　done；　he　cut　spruce　boughs　and　made　a　lean…to　for　the　girl。　Then；　gently　lifting　her　upon　a　blanket；　he　folded　the　sides　over　her。　The　other　blanket　he　wrapped　about　his　shoulders　and　found　a　comfortable　seat　against　a　spruce…tree　that　upheld　the　little　shack。　Ring　and　Whitie　lay　near　at　hand；　one　asleep；　the　other　watchful。

Venters　dreaded　the　night's　vigil。　At　night　his　mind　was　active；　and　this　time　he　had　to　watch　and　think　and　feel　beside　a　dying　girl　whom　he　had　all　but　murdered。　A　thousand　excuses　he　invented　for　himself；　yet　not　one　made　any　difference　in　his　act　or　his　self…reproach。

It　seemed　to　him　that　when　night　fell　black　he　could　see　her　white　face　so　much　more　plainly。

〃She'll　go；　presently；〃　he　said；　〃and　be　out　of　agonythank　God！〃

Every　little　while　certainty　of　her　death　came　to　him　with　a　shock；　and　then　he　would　bend　over　and　lay　his　ear　on　her　breast。　Her　heart　still　beat。

The　early　night　blackness　cleared　to　the　cold　starlight。　The　horses　were　not　moving；　and　no　sound　disturbed　the　deathly　silence　of　the　canyon。

〃I'll　bury　her　here；〃　thought　Venters；　〃and　let　her　grave　be　as　much　a　mystery　as　her　life　was。〃

For　the　girl's　few　words；　the　look　of　her　eyes；　the　prayer；　had　strangely　touched　Venters。

〃She　was　only　a　girl；〃　he　soliloquized。　〃What　was　she　to　Oldring？　Rustlers　don't　have　wives　nor　sisters　nor　daughters。　She　was　badthat's　all。　But　somehow。。。well；　she　may　not　have　willingly　become　the　companion　of　rustlers。　That　prayer　of　hers　to　God　for　mercy！。。。Life　is　strange　and　cruel。　I　wonder　if　other　members　of　Oldring's　gang　are　women？　Likely　enough。　But　what　was　his　game？　Oldring's　Mask　Rider！　A　name　to　make　villagers　hide　and　lock　their　doors。　A　name　credited　with　a　dozen　murders；　a　hundred　forays；　and　a　thousand　stealings　of　cattle。　What　part　did　the　girl　have　in　this？　It　may　have　served　Oldring　to　create　mystery。〃

Hours　passed。　The　white　stars　moved　across　the　narrow　strip　of　dark…blue　sky　above。　The　silence　awoke　to　the　low　hum　of　insects。　Venters　watched　the　immovable　white　face；　and　as　he　watched；　hour　by　hour　waiting　for　death；　the　infamy　of　her　passed　from　his　mind。　He　thought　only　of　the　sadness；　the　truth　of　the　moment。　Whoever　she　waswhatever　she　had　doneshe　was　young　and　she　was　dying。

The　after…part　of　the　night　wore　on　interminably。　The　starlight　failed　and　the　gloom　blackened　to　the　darkest　hour。　〃She'll　die　at　the　gray　of　dawn；〃　muttered　Venters；　remembering　some　old　woman's　fancy。　The　blackness　paled　to　gray；　and　the　gray　lightened　and　day　peeped　over　the　eastern　rim。　Venters　listened　at　the　breast　of　the　girl。　She　still　lived。　Did　he　only　imagine　that　her　heart　beat　stronger；　ever　so　slightly；　but　stronger？　He　pressed　his　ear　closer　to　her　breast。　And　he　rose　with　his　own　pulse　quickening。

〃If　she　doesn't　die　soonshe's　got　a　chancethe　barest　chance　to　live；〃　he　said。

He　wondered　if　the　internal　bleeding　had　ceased。　There　was　no　more　film　of　blood　upon　her　lips。　But　no　corpse　could　have　been　whiter。　Opening　her　blouse；　he　untied　the　scarf；　and　carefully　picked　away　the　sage　leaves　from　the　wound　in　her　shoulder。　It　had　closed。　Lifting　her　lightly；　he　ascertained　that　the　same　was　true　of　the　hole　where　the　bullet　had　come　out。　He　reflected　on　the　fact　that　clean　wounds　closed　quickly　in　the　healing　upland　air。　He　recalled　instances　of　riders　who　had　been　cut　and　shot　apparently　to　fatal　issues；　yet　the　blood　had　clotted；　the　wounds　closed；　and　they　had　recovered。　He　had　no　way　to　tell　if　internal　hemorrhage　still　went　on；　but　he　believed　that　it　had　stopped。　Otherwise　she　would　surely　not　have　lived　so　long。　He　marked　the　entrance　of　the　bullet；　and　concluded　that　it　had　just　touched　the　upper　lobe　of　her　lung。　Perhaps　the　wound　in　the　lung　had　also　closed。　As　he　began　to　wash　the　blood　stains　from　her　breast　and　carefully　rebandage　the　wound；　he　was　vaguely　conscious　of　a　strange；　grave　happiness　in　the　thought　that　she　might　live。

Broad　daylight　and　a　hint　of　sunshine　high　on　the　cliff…rim　to　the　west　brought　him　to　consideration　of　what　he　had　better　do。　And　while　busy　with　his　few　camp　tasks　he　revolved　the　thing　in　his　mind。　It　would　not　be　wise　for　him　to　remain　long　in　his　present　hiding…place。　And　if　he　intended　to　follow　the　cattle　trail　and　try　to　find　the　rustlers　he　had　better　make　a　move　at　once。　For　he　knew　that　rustlers；　being　riders；　would　not　make　much　of　a　day's　or　night's　absence　from　camp　for　one　or　two　of　their　number；　but　when　the　missing　ones　failed　to　show　up　in　reasonable　time　there　would　be　a　search。　And　Venters　was　afraid　of　that。

〃A　good　tracker　could　trail　me；〃　he　muttered。　〃And　I'd　be　cornered　here。　Let's　see。　Rustlers　are　a　lazy　set　when　they're　not　on　the　ride。　I'll　risk　it。　Then　I'll　change　my　hiding…place。〃

He　carefully　cleaned　and　reloaded　his　guns。　When　he　rose　to　go　he　bent　a　long　glance　down　upon　the　unconscious　girl。　Then　ordering　Whitie　and　Ring　to　keep　guard；　he　left　the　camp

The　safest　cover　lay　close　under　the　wall　of　the　canyon；　and　here　through　the　dense　thickets　Venters　made　his　slow；　listening　advance　toward　the　oval。　Upon　gaining　the　wide　opening　he　decided　to　cross　it　and　follow　the　left　wall　till　he　came　to　the　cattle　trail。

He　scanned　the　oval　as　keenly　as　if　hunting　for　antelope。　Then；　stooping；　he　stole　from　one　cover　to　another；　taking　advantage　of　rocks　and　bunches　of　sage；　until　he　had　reached　the　thickets　under　the　opposite　wall。　Once　there；　he　exercised　extreme　caution　in　his　surveys　of　the　ground　ahead；　but　increased　his　speed　when　moving。　Dodging　from　bush　to　bush；　he　passed　the　mouths　of　two　canyons；　and　in　the　entrance　of　a　third　canyon　he　crossed　a　wash　of　swift　clear　water；　to　come　abruptly　upon　the　cattle　trail。

It　followed　the　low　bank　of　the　wash；　and；　keeping　it　in　sight；　Venters　hugged　the　line　of　sage　and　thicket。　Like　the　curves　of　a　serpent　the　canyon　wound　for　a　mile　or　more　and　then　opened　into　a　valley。　Patches　of　red　showed　clear　against　the　purple　of　sage；　and　farther　out　on　the　level　dotted　strings　of　red　led　away　to　the　wall　of　rock。

〃Ha；　the　red　herd！〃　exclaimed　Venters。

Then　dots　of　white　and　black　told　him　there　were　cattle　of　other　colors　in　this　inclosed　valley。　Oldring；　the　rustler；　was　also　a　rancher。　Venters's　calculating　eye　took　count　of　stock　that　outnumbered　the　red　herd。

〃What　a　range！〃　went　on　Venters。　〃Water　and　grass　enough　for　fifty　thousand　head；　and　no　riders　needed！〃

After　his　first　burst　of　surprise　and　rapid　calculation　Venters　lost　no　time　there；　but　slunk　again　into　the　sage　on　his　back　trail。　With　the　discovery　of　Oldring's　hidden　cattle…range　had　come　enlightenment　on　several　problems。　Here　the　rustler　kept　his　stock；　here　was　Jane　Withersteen's　red　herd；　here　were　the　few　cattle　that　had　disappeared　from　the　Cottonwoods　slopes　during　the　last　two　years。　Until　Oldring　had　driven　the　red　herd　his　thefts　of　cattle　for　that　time　had　not　been　more　than　enough　to　supply　meat　for　his　men。　Of　late　no　drives　had　been　reported　from　Sterling　or　the　villages　north。　And　Venters　knew　that　the　riders　had　wondered　at　Oldring's　inactivity　in　that　particular　field。　He　and　his　band　had　been　active　enough　in　their　visits　to　Glaze　and　Cottonwoods；　they　always　had　gold；　but　of　late　the　amount　gambled　away　and　drunk　and　thrown　away　in　the　villages　had　given　rise　to　much　conjecture。　Oldring's　more　frequent　visits　had　resulted　in　new　saloons；　and　where　there　had　formerly　been　one　raid　or　shooting　fray　in　the　little　hamlets　there　were　now　many。　Perhaps　Oldring　h