Mason of Bar X Ranch. Bennett Henry Holcomb
him to come home at once. When he arrived, Buck Miller had just ridden in with the news that they had trailed the gang to Devil’s Gap.
“Bud buckled on his guns and with Miller they beat it for the Gap. When they arrived at the foothills, Scotty and Red had received bullet wounds and were in a killing mood.
“Banty Hayes had always boasted that he and his men could hold off a regiment of men, once they had gained the plateau. They had made it a sort of a rendezvous in the past, but no one had been able to round them up.
“Bud led Scotty and Red with the rest of the posse up the Gap trail. It was a hot fight while it lasted. They forced the outlaws to the top where they made a stand. Bud and Red and Scotty charged them, their guns spitting a stream of lead. Banty Hayes was down with a bullet through his head.
“The rest of the gang seeing their leader fall, surrendered. One of the band told Joe Turner that they had intended to hold the posse off until night and make their escape.
“Most all of Bud’s men had been hit, but Joe said the outlaws were nervous for they never dreamed that Bud would dare to follow them up to the plateau. So that is the reason there is bad blood between Bud Anderson and Ricker,” the girl concluded.
They had turned and were riding the back trail. On the way home Mason told the girl about New York and his sister Ethel.
Josephine was all attention when he explained why he came to leave home, and how his father had made him a proposition to stay a year on her father’s ranch.
“Do you think you can be good out here?” the girl asked mischievously.
“Yes, I think I can, with you for company,” he replied, smiling.
The girl looked him straight in the eyes.
“We are going to be great friends,” she said with a rare smile. “You must invite your mother and sister out here.”
“I certainly will, and I am going to send for my ninety horse-power car.”
“Oh, that will be fine,” the girl cried with enthusiasm. “I am just crazy about riding fast. You must teach me how to drive. We will have great fun with it. We have a negro cook and the boys call him Smoke, he is so black. Bud took him on a trip to Chicago last summer and to show Smoke a good time he hired a high powered car and told the chauffeur to drive the limit.
“Well, Smoke never got over raving about that ride. Bud said his eyes fairly popped out of his head and he was scared stiff. When he got back home he told the boys in the mess room that Bud would never ‘get him in one of them go-devils again’!”
Mason laughed heartily at her narrative.
The girl touched him on the shoulder and pointed in the direction where he had seen the cattle grazing. He made out a horseman coming their way.
“That’s Tex,” she said, “one of our boys, I can tell by the way he rides.”
The rider halted and waited for them to come up. Mason noticed the cowboy took his hat off when the girl spoke to him.
“Tex, this is Jack Mason from New York,” she said, introducing the Easterner.
“How de do?” he jerked out in an offhand manner, “just rode in from the boundary line. Sort of keeping an eye on the Ricker gang,” he added, addressing his conversation to the girl.
“What’s the matter, Tex, have they been kicking up any trouble?” she queried in an anxious voice.
“Don’t exactly know,” he snapped out, “they have been acting mighty queer since them two punchers joined our outfit. Joe gave me orders to keep watch of them.”
Tex was a tall lanky cowboy and extremely nervous. He had a peculiar habit of pulling his belt up to the last notch and letting it out again while talking. Mason sized him up as a hard man to handle at close quarters.
The girl shrugged her shoulders.
“I know who you mean, Tex,” the girl said, “Powers and Carlo.”
He nodded grimly.
“Never mind, Tex. I guess Bud can take care of them. You ride in with us, we will tire Jack out with all our troubles.”
“I reckon I could take care of them if I get half a chance,” declared Tex with a grunt.
He had hitched his belt up until it seemed to Mason that his waist was small as a bean pole, started ahead, riding his horse like one born to the saddle.
The girl rode close to Mason, keeping up an easy conversation. He was surprised at her knowledge of all things in general.
“Some day,” she was saying, “we will ride out to the boundary line and I will show you the Ricker ranch. It is a fine place and they have as much range as Daddy has. They have a girl working for them, too. She is Spanish and a beauty, that is, if you like a brunette.” Josephine was half laughing, and watching him out of the corner of her eyes.
“I can tell better after I have seen her,” he replied, evasively.
CHAPTER III – MASON MEETS THE SHERIFF
They had arrived at the bunk-house and Tex was talking to a man in a dusty khaki suit. The girl saw him and with a bound was out of the saddle and shaking hands with him. Mason knew that this man was Bud Anderson whom the girl had talked so much about.
Tex had gone on ahead to the corral. Mason paused, and was slowly stroking his horse’s mane when Josephine suddenly turned and motioned to him.
“Tex tells me the Ricker gang are acting suspicious,” he overheard her saying in a strained voice as he rode up.
The man in the dusty khaki suit muttered something under his breath. Josephine was plainly ill at ease.
“Mr. Mason, I want to make you acquainted with Bud Anderson, our sheriff,” she said in a low voice.
Mason shook hands and winced. Anderson had a grip of steel. He was built on the lines of an athlete with powerful shoulders and an easy carriage that denoted quickness of action. He had sharp, piercing gray eyes that seemed to read one’s innermost thought. Standing close on to six feet, he was a magnificent specimen of manhood.
“Mr. Mason, you have come at just the right time if you like excitement,” he said, looking the Easterner over sharply.
“That’s my middle name,” returned Mason easily.
Anderson nodded approval.
“We are going to have some stormy times around these parts,” he declared. “I understand that Miss Josephine has told you about some of our bad neighbors, the Ricker outfit.
“Well,” he went on, “I just discovered today that four more men joined forces with them, and I took the trouble to look up their names. They are the same bunch I rounded up in that shooting scrape five years ago,” he concluded.
“Oh, I remember,” the girl cried in evident distress, “they wrote you from prison that they would get you when their term was up.”
They had turned their horses into the corral and were walking slowly to the house. Anderson shut up like a clam and refused to say anything further on the subject. Mason figured it was on account of the nervousness of the girl. That night Anderson told Mason all the ins and outs of the affair.
The trouble had occurred in a small town called Atwater, situated a few miles from Trader’s Post. Anderson having business to attend to there had stumbled on to the case shortly after it happened.
An old retired silver miner living alone in a cabin had been set upon and robbed by four men. He was found bound and gagged, with a bullet wound in his shoulder.
Anderson took the trail and followed it untiringly for a week until he landed his men. After being convicted and sentenced to five years in prison they had friends write the sheriff a letter swearing vengeance after their term expired.
Two weeks passed by and nothing of importance had occurred in the actions of the Ricker faction to verify the suspicions of Tex. Mason took long rides each day and got