The Max Brand Megapack. Max Brand

sense,” said Silent. “Come out with me an’ I’ll saddle your hoss. Call the wolf.”

      He opened the door and in response to her whistle Black Bart trotted out and followed them out to the horse shed. There the outlaw quickly saddled Kate’s pony.

      He said: “Whistlin’ Dan is sure headin’ back in this direction because he’s got an idea I’m somewhere near. Bart will find him on the way.”

      Silent was right. That morning Dan had started back towards Gus Morris’s place, for he was sure that the outlaws were camped in that neighbourhood. A little before noon he veered half a mile to the right towards a spring which welled out from a hillside, surrounded by a small grove of willows. Having found it, he drank, and watered Satan, then took off the saddle to ease the stallion, and lay down at a little distance for a ten-minute siesta, one of those half wakeful sleeps the habit of which he had learned from his wolf.

      He was roused from the doze by a tremendous snorting and snarling and found Black Bart playing with Satan. It was their greeting after an absence, and they dashed about among the willows like creatures possessed. Dan brought horse and dog to a motionless stand with a single whistle, and then ran out to the edge of the willows. Down the side of the hill rode Kate at a brisk gallop. In a moment she saw him and called his name, with a welcoming wave of her arm. Now she was off her horse and running to him. He caught her hands and held her for an instant far from him like one striving to draw out the note of happiness into a song. They could not speak.

      At last: “I knew you’d find a way to come.”

      “They let me go, Dan.”

      He frowned, and her eyes faltered from his.

      “They sent me to you to ask you—to free Lee Haines!”

      He dropped her hands, and she stood trying to find words to explain, and finding none.

      “To free Haines?” he repeated heavily.

      “It is Dad,” she cried. “They have captured him, and they are holding him. They keep him in exchange for Haines.”

      “If I free Haines they’ll outlaw me. You know that, Kate?”

      She made a pace towards him, but he retreated.

      “What can I do?” she pleaded desperately. “It is for my father—”

      His face brightened as he caught at a new hope.

      “Show me the way to Silent’s hiding place and I’ll free your father an’ reach the end of this trail at the same time, Kate!”

      She blenched pitifully. It was hopeless to explain.

      “Dan—honey—I can’t!”

      She watched him miserably.

      “I’ve given them my word to come back alone.”

      His head bowed. Out of the willows came Satan and Black Bart and stood beside him, the stallion nosing his shoulder affectionately.

      “Dan, dear, won’t you speak to me? Won’t you tell me that you try to understand?”

      He said at last: “Yes. I’ll free Lee Haines.”

      The fingers of his right hand trailed slowly across the head of Black Bart. His eyes raised and looked past her far across the running curves of the hills, far away to the misty horizon.

      “Kate—”

      “Dan, you do understand?”

      “I didn’t know a woman could love a man the way you do Lee Haines. When I send him back to you tell him to watch himself. I’m playin’ your game now, but if I meet him afterwards, I’ll play my own.”

      All she could say was: “Will you listen to me no more, Dan?”

      “Here’s where we say good-bye.”

      He took her hand and his eyes were as unfathomable as a midnight sky. She turned to her horse and he helped her to the saddle with a steady hand.

      That was all. He went back to the willows, his right arm resting on the withers of Black Satan as if upon the shoulder of a friend. As she reached the top of the hill she heard a whistling from the willows, a haunting complaint which brought the tears to her eyes. She spurred her tired horse to escape the sound.

      CHAPTER XXIII

      HELL STARTS

      Between twilight and dark Whistling Dan entered Elkhead. He rose in the stirrups, on his toes, stretching the muscles of his legs. He was sensing his strength. So the pianist before he plays runs his fingers up and down the keys and sees that all is in tune and the touch perfect.

      Two rival saloons faced each other at the end of the single street. At the other extremity of the lane stood the house of deputy sheriff Rogers, and a little farther was the jail. A crowd of horses stood in front of each saloon, but from the throngs within there came hardly a sound. The hush was prophetic of action; it was the lull before the storm. Dan slowed his horse as he went farther down the street.

      The shadowy figure of a rider showed near the jail. He narrowed his eyes and looked more closely. Another, another, another horseman showed—four in sight on his side of the jail and probably as many more out of his vision. Eight cattlemen guarded the place from which he must take Lee Haines, and every one of the eight, he had no doubt, was a picked man. Dan pulled up Satan to a walk and commenced to whistle softly. It was like one of those sounds of the wind, a thing to guess at rather than to know, but the effect upon Satan and Black Bart was startling.

      The ears of the stallion dropped flat on his neck. He began to slink along with a gliding step which was very like the stealthy pace of Black Bart, stealing ahead. His footfall was as silent as if he had been shod with felt. Meantime Dan ran over a plan of action. He saw very clearly that he had little time for action. Those motionless guards around the jail made his task difficult enough, but there was a still greater danger. The crowds in the two saloons would be starting up the street for Haines before long. Their silence told him that.

      A clatter of hoofs came behind him. He did not turn his head, but his hand dropped down to his revolver butt. The fast riding horseman swept and shot on down the street, leaving a pungent though invisible cloud of dust behind him. He stopped in front of Rogers’s house and darted up the steps and through the door. Acting upon a premonition, Dan dismounted a short distance from Rogers’s house and ran to the door. He opened it softly and found himself in a narrow hall dimly lighted by a smoking lamp. Voices came from the room to his right.

      “What d’you mean, Hardy?” the deputy sheriff was saying.

      “Hell’s startin’!”

      “There’s a good many kinds of hell. Come out with it, Lee. I ain’t no mind reader.”

      “They’re gettin’ ready for the big bust!”

      “What big bust?”

      “It ain’t no use bluffin’. Ain’t Silent told you that I’m on the inside of the game?”

      “You fool!” cried Rogers. “Don’t use that name!”

      Dan slipped a couple of paces down the hall and flattened himself against the wall just as the door opened. Rogers looked out, drew a great breath of relief, and went back into the room. Dan resumed his former position.

      “Now talk fast!” said Rogers.

      “About time for you to drop that rotten bluff. Why, man, I could even tell you jest how much you’ve cost Jim Silent.”

      Rogers growled: “Tell me what’s up.”

      “The boys are goin’ for the jail tonight. They’ll get out Haines an’ string him up.”

      “It’s comin’ to him. He’s played a hard game for a long time.”

      “An’ so have you, Rogers, for a damn long time!”

      Rogers