CHAPTER XXII

SHOTS IN THE DARK

Frantically Adrian ran out into the darkness, crying his wife's name. His thought went, with swift apprehension, over the events of recent hours. The villainous face of Ned Gasket passed before his memory mockingly; the meaning look McTurpin gave his henchman at the gaming table. Finally, with double force, that movement in the bushes as he told the gambler of his former captive's whereabouts. By what absurd imprudence had he laid himself thus open to the scoundrel's swift attack? What farther whimsy of an unkind Fate had prompted his long walk?

Sudden fury flamed in Stanley's heart; it steadied him. The twitching fingers on the pistol in his pocket relaxed into a calm and settled tension. With long strides he made his way toward Brown's hotel.

There was death in his eyes; men who caught their gleam beneath a lamplight, hastily avoided him. That Inez--at this time--should have been taken from her home, abducted, frightened or harassed, was the sin unpardonable. For it he meant to exact a capital punishment. The law, just then, meant to him nothing; only the primitive instinct of an outraged man controlled his mind.

At the bar he paused. "Where's McTurpin, where's Gasket?" he demanded, harshly.

The bartender observed him with suspicion and uneasiness. "Don't know. Haven't seen 'em since they started out with you," he answered.

Stanley left the room without another word.

He struck across the Plaza, entering the Eldorado gambling house. There he ordered a drink, gulped it, made, more quietly, a survey of the room. He scanned the players carefully. Spear sat at one of the tables, toying with a pile of chips and stroking his chin reflectively as he surveyed three cards.

"Give me two. Hello, there, Adrian. Good Lord! what's up?"

"Have you seen McTurpin or his friend, Ned Gasket?" He tried to speak quietly.

A miner at another table leaned forward. "Try the stalls, pard," he whispered, while his left eyelid descended meaningly.

"Wait," cried Spear and laid his cards down hastily. But Adrian was already on his way. At the rear were half a dozen small compartments where visitors might drink in semi-privacy with women who frequented the place.

Adrian made the round of them, flinging aside each curtain as he went. Some greeted him with curses for intruding; some with invitations. But he did not find the men he sought, until the last curtain was thrown back. There sat Gasket and McTurpin opposite Ensenada Rose. She looked up impudently as Adrian entered. Into the gambler's visage sprang a quick surprise and fear. Instantly he blew out the lamp.

A pistol spoke savagely almost in Adrian's face. He staggered, clasping one hand to his head. Something warm ran down his cheek and the side of his neck. He felt giddy, stunned. But a dominant impulse jerked his own revolver into position and he shot twice--as rapidly as he could operate the weapon. The narrow space was chokingly filled with acrid vapor. Somewhere a woman screamed; then came a rush of feet.

It seemed to Adrian he had stood for hours in a kind of stupor when a light was brought. Gasket lay, his head bowed over on the table and an arm flung forward. He was dead. On the floor was a lace mantilla.

Spear reached Adrian's side ahead of the others. "I heard him shoot first," he said, so that all might hear him. "Are you hit?"

Adrian's hand went once more to his cheek. "Just a furrow," he said and smiled a trifle dazedly. "He fired straight into my face."

"By Harry! He must have. Your cheek's powder-marked," cried Brannan, running up and holding the lamp for a better view. "See that, gentlemen? They tried to murder Mr. Stanley. This is self-defense. Who fired at you?"

"This fellow!" Adrian indicated the sprawled figure. "Must have been. I shot at the flash from his gun; then I aimed at McTurpin. I missed him, probably."

"Not so sure of that," said Brown, who had come running from his hostelry across the square. "Look, here's blood on the floor. A trail--let's follow it. Either McTurpin or the woman was hit."

"I tried to avoid her," Adrian said. "I--hope I didn't--"

"Never mind. You were attacked. They're all of a parcel," cried a man who wore the badge of a constable. "We've had our eyes on the three of them a long time. This fellow," he indicated Gasket, "was one of the crowd suspected of the Warren murders. He's the one who killed old Burthen. Dandy Carter let it out tonight; he's half delirious. We'd have strung him up most probably, if you hadn't--"

"Come," urged Brannan, "let us follow this trail to the wounded. Perhaps he or she needs assistance." He held the lamp low, tracing the dark spots across an intervening space to the rear entrance; thence to a hitching rack where several horses still were tethered. "They mounted here," the constable decided. "One horse probably. No telling which it was that got the bullet."

Adrian was conscious, suddenly, that his hand still held the pistol. He flung it from him with a gesture of repulsion.

"My wife!" he said faintly, "Inez!"

"What d'ye mean?" asked Spear.

"Talk up, man. What's wrong?"

"She's gone--abducted," Stanley answered. "Who'll lend me a horse. I must find McTurpin. He knows--"

Unexpectedly Spear complicated matters. "You're mistaken, Stanley. I followed when you and he took your walk together. I suspected treachery--when Gasket sneaked along behind. I had McTurpin covered when you turned your back on him. He came here after that. Both of them have been here all the evening."

Stanley put his hand to his head with a bewildered gesture.

"Good God! Then where--? What has become of them?"

"Maybe they got wind of Benito's presence. Maybe they're with him. Let's see."

They hurried back to the City Hotel.

"The room's dark," Spear lighted a taper and they softly opened the door. Benito slept; beside him drowsed a red-shirted miner slumped upon a chair. Adrian shook him, whispering, "Where's Doctor Jones?"

"Don't know," muttered the watcher, sleepily. "This yere is his busy night I reckon. Asked me to look after this galoot. Feed him four fingers of that pizen if he woke."

His head drooped forward and a buzzing sound came from his open mouth. Once more Adrian shook him.

"Didn't he say anything about his destination?"

"His which, pard?"

"Where he was bound," the young man said half angrily.

This time the other sat up straighter. For the first time he really awoke and took intelligent cognizance of the situation.

"Now I come to think on it, he's bound for the hill over yonder. Woman named Briones come for him at a double quick. Good lookin' Spanish wench. She took him by the arm commandin' like. 'You come along,' she says and picks up his medicine chest. 'Don't stop for yer hat.' And he didn't." He winked heavily, chuckling at the reminiscence.

"Then it isn't Juana Briones that's ill. Perhaps it's her husband."

"Has she got a husband?" asked the miner, disappointedly. "No, I reckon 'twant him. 'Twas a woman name o' Stanley. I remember now--Goin' to have a bebby."

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