CHAPTER VIII.

DANGLING SCARECROWS.

The Railroad ranch stirred early that morning, despite the fact that neither Randy nor his father had slept much. Things may or may not have looked different to Railroad. To Randy there had been no change, for he had not slept enough to make a curtain between the two days.

He had some plans himself and he was going to work on them. Bell Holderness and Lav Tarleton had got two of his men the day before. On the other hand, he and his men with him had scored a few times themselves. Dolly had got the man Red, in the thicket. Then they had got three more and crippled one in the running fight at sunset. Then crowning the day's work, he and Dolly had hanged Bill Hayden. Five in all.

Decidedly, they had won a trick in the game of war. The chief winning had been gaining positive knowledge of what the mess was all about. He was going to hang Steve Holderness if he could lay hands on him, for the murder of Asa, but he was bitterer against Bell than Steve. It might be that Steve had thought he was avenging his father, but with Bell, who was engineering the war, it was just a matter of greed, avarice and lust.

Randy quivered at the thought. Like all jealous people, he wanted to hurt both the persons who caused his jealousy. He wanted to kill Bell Holderness, meant to kill him. He also wanted to humiliate Zella. Not that she could ever be anything to him again, he thought, but he wanted her to suffer for her lack of faith in him.

At that moment he thought he no longer loved Zella, and wondered that he had ever loved her. It was in this bitter frame of mind that he gave the other men orders to work the cattle on the prairie, riding in pairs, and keeping a close watch. Then turning to Dolly, he said:

"Better get plenty of bread and meat in our saddle pockets. I don't know when we'll be back."

Dolly had obeyed, thoughtfully. No song had passed the lips of the usually happy little puncher since Sankey had stopped him that first day. He, too, had slept little. Randy's bitterness against Zella had set him thinking. He felt sure that if Zella knew Randy was innocent, she would fly to his arms. She might easily be convinced of Randy's innocence, but Randy had gone wild. Would he ever forgive the girl? With such thoughts in his mind, Dolly mounted and rode away with Randy.

Railroad Ross was old, but he was far from dead. He had one boy left. He felt that there might be one more little burst of speed in him. Since burying his two sons, he had sat around the house, unwilling to leave his good wife alone with her grief. His old heart had been driven too hard and was in bad shape, but his head was still all right and he had spent the night in thought. It was not enough to save Randy's life, if he could not save the boy from the bitterness that gripped his soul.

He watched Randy and Dolly ride away toward where they had left Bill Hayden hanging in the tree. A man had to be pretty bitter to want to go back and look at a thing like that. The men were mounting, when Railroad called old Con Bates and Sankey aside, and let the others go on.

"Con," he said, "you and Sankey have been with me a long time. The old Railroad is about on the rocks. You've been in messes with me before, but never one like this. The Holderness boys have picked up a new breed of killers that has drifted into that Indian country from the four corners of the earth. They don't fight like cow-people, but we got to fight 'em. I just got one boy left. If he comes out of this alive, he'll be ruined, unless--"

Railroad stopped. He never liked to tell his men too much. Presently, he went on.

"I've been in this bend more than thirty years. I've never trespassed on the other side of the river, but I may have to do it now. You saw the two fellows that were with the Holderness boys when they killed Asa, Con?"

"Yes, sir," growled Con.

"One of 'em was a hatchet-faced, rat-mouthed, gimlet-eyed fellow they called Bud, and the other was a handsome, gray-eyed devil they called Turk. Would you know 'em if you saw 'em?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I want them two fellows and I want 'em alive and well. If they can be got, you two can get 'em. It may take an hour, or it may take a month. Get 'em and bring 'em here as quick as you can."

* * * * *

The two wrinkled old riders mounted and rode away, not saying what they meant to do. Railroad had not definitely ordered them to go into the Indian country; but they understood him.

Railroad watched them ride north, toward the bottom of the Silver Bend bottle. He knew they were going into danger, but danger meant little to such men. If it were not for leaving his wife alone, he'd mount and ride with them. His heart might play out on him, but it would be in a good cause.

Knowing Railroad's long-standing policy of keeping to his own side of Red River, Bell had felt that his gang were safe as long as they stayed on their own side. Some one had got Hayden and hanged him, but Hayden must have disobeyed orders and suffered for it the same as Sam had.

Bell sat in the cottonwood, gnawing at his mustache, and trying to evolve a new plan, concoct a new lie, that would drive the Tarleton boys on to hunt Randy and kill him. If he had guessed just how much Randy Ross knew, and just how different he was from the old Randy, Bell would not have been so cool. Unmindful of everything, he went on, planning his next move in this perilous game.

Randy and Dolly rode west from the Railroad and entered the timber. They had seen no one, when they reached the river at the ford where the battle had taken place the evening before. This ford was just below the cottonwood thicket where so much mischief had been done. Directly across from the lower end of the thicket, Bill Hayden still swung in the wind, in plain view from the other side of the river. As they sat their horses behind a screen of brush, Dolly said:

"Shore quiet in the Bend this morning. Ain't heard a sound. Seems like hangin' that gent up has worked like it does on crows. My daddy used to kill crows and hang 'em up around his melon patch. A crow wouldn't come in a mile of it, as long as they hung there."

"Easy on the talking!" warned Randy. "Yonder they come."

Three men rode down to the ford on the opposite side of the river. Two of them were leading pack-horses. The other rider was Steve Holderness. Steve sat on his horse, while the other two men picked the bodies up from the ground and lashed them to the pack saddles. They had finished the job and were ready to go, when one of them glanced up and across the river.

"Good God! Look yonder!" he cried. "It's Bill Hayden, hanging by the neck!"

On the Railroad side of the river, Dolly fingered his gun. "I can get Steve now," he said.

"No!" Randy growled. "Let him alone. I don't want him shot. I'm going to hang him."

Steve Holderness caught an eyeful of the tight-rope performance, and hastily wheeled his horse into the brush, calling to the others to come on. Randy and Dolly sat watching until they all disappeared into the dense bottom.

"They won't be so thick around this neighborhood now," said Randy, grimly. "Come on. Let's go across and see what we can find."

Crossing the river, they followed the trail of the five horses over the soft, bottom soil. Twice they glimpsed the Holderness men through the trees, and stopped behind convenient trunks until the others went on. Climbing out of the bottom onto a stretch of open woods they came to the road that led from Willow Mills to the H Bar. Here the two H Bar men turned north with their gruesome pack-horses, and Steve galloped south toward town. It was then that Steve carried the news to Bell.

"We've let 'em get plumb away!" said Dolly, in a tone of disappointment.

"No, we haven't. It's Steve that we are after. He's gone somewhere to tell the news. He'll be back."

* * * * *

They turned across to where the road dipped into the bottom again, rode into a dense thicket and stopped.

"Here's where we do some bushwhacking on our own account," muttered Randy. "Damn that Holderness and Tarleton gang. I'll teach them some tricks at their own game."

Dolly shuddered at the venom in Randy's tone. It had reached the point that the little cowboy shuddered every time Randy mentioned the name of Tarleton.

An hour passed in silent listening, after that. Then they heard the thud of galloping hoofs, coming along the road from the Willow Mills crossing on the river.

"Get set!" ordered Randy.

The horseman came storming on. He was fairly abreast of the thicket when Randy's gun crashed. The horse faltered, stopped and fell. Steve Holderness rolled clear and sprang to his feet, but he was looking into two guns.

"Get your hands up!" snapped Randy. "Take his gun, Dolly. Get a horn-string and tie his hands behind him."

"What's the idea, Randy?" whimpered Steve, as he stood bound.

For reply, Randy threw a rope over a big limb that projected across the road.

"You--you ain't goin' to hang me, Randy?"

"Why not?"

"I--I got a family, and--"

"Asa had some brothers and a father and a mother," said Randy.

"I--I didn't kill Asa. It was Bell. Let me go, and I'll tell you all about it. Bell is back of this mess. I'll tell you what he wants, and tell you what he aims to do--before he does it!"

"I know what he aims to do. Let him do it, if he can. Rope him, Dolly."

There was one wild, gurgling scream, and Steve Holderness swung above the road, in his death struggle.

"That'll do for to-day," Randy said, thoughtfully, as they crossed the river into Silver Bend. "I haven't slept much the last few nights, and I'm about all in. That'll give the Holderness and Tarleton gang something to think about, as soon as they find it out. They'll find it out, too, for somebody will be going from the H Bar to keep Bell advised about what is going on over here."

There were but two safe places that they could rest. One of these was the ranch house. Randy didn't want to go there. He wanted to be alone with his bitterness and his hate.

To be with Dolly was as near being alone as it was possible to be in human company, for he rarely spoke now unless he was spoken to.

The only other safe place was out on the prairie, where no one could ride up on them unseen. Already, Randy was becoming a wild man in some ways. He had been advised that Bell Holderness and the Tarleton boys were hunting him, and he had become watchful.

It was well after noon when they stopped at a clump of trees on a high point, far out on the prairie. They ate a little lunch, then rolled smokes. Suddenly, Dolly stretched out on the ground, and in an instant, fell asleep.

Randy looked at the little puncher in surprise. He himself was not in the least sleepy, though he had slept very little for three nights. He had heard that insane people didn't sleep, and wondered if his own mind was unbalanced. No, he told himself, he was not crazy--yet.

Randy supposed that Dolly had simply been overcome by need of sleep, and couldn't stay awake. The fact was that it was some time before Dolly really went to sleep. He had feigned sleep deliberately, for he knew Randy would have to sleep some time, and Dolly wanted to be awake, and very much awake, when that young man finally succumbed to the demands of nature.

* * * * *

Randy had plenty of time to think, undisturbed. He watched Dolly as he lay sleeping, as peacefully as if nothing had happened to excite his mind. This little man had done much for him. Had it not been for Dolly, he would have gone on a debauch the night his brothers were killed. Had it not been for Dolly, he would never have been man enough to face this situation.

And so his thoughts ran on, taking all the incidents for the last three days. It was far toward night when Dolly opened his baby-blue eyes, looked about him, and glanced at the sun.

"Reckon I must have slept a nap."

"About four hours," said Randy. "We'd better ride from here if we want to get home before night."

They rode back into Silver Bend, seeing no one as they went. When they came out on the little prairie, they saw four riders just approaching the ranch. Two of them they recognized as Con and Sankey. The other two, they didn't know. When they reached the ranch, old Railroad was talking to the two strangers, whom Randy recognized as the man called Bud and the one called Turk, who had been at the round-up with the Holderness boys.

"What do you want with us?" demanded Turk.

"I don't know yet," drawled old Railroad. "I don't aim to hang you for awhile. If you tell the truth, I may not hang you at all."

"That sounds fair," smiled the handsome Turk, while Bud scowled and darted a vicious look from his gimlet eyes. "What's this truth you want told about?"

"Who killed Asa, who killed Ben Tarleton, and who shot the judge?"

"Don't you know?"

"Yes, we know, but we want to see if you fellows would rather tell the truth about it than be hanged."

"Don't squeal, Turk!" snarled Bud. "They don't know nothin'."

"Maybe not," laughed Turk, "but I'd rather be a live welcher than a dead stayer. Shoot your questions, Mr. Ross, one at a time."

"All right. Who killed Asa?"

"Steve."

"Who killed Ben?"

"Bell Holderness."

"Who shot Judge Tarleton?"

"Red Mangus."

"You know all that, do you?"

"Yes, sir. I saw Steve and Bell do the killing, and I was in ten feet of Red, when he shot the judge, and got shot for his trouble. I didn't even tell anybody Red was dead. I don't believe in laying in the brush and potting people."

"Is he telling the truth, Bud?"

"Oh, hell! Yes, that's right."

"All right. There's a new log smokehouse with a door that you can't break. I'm going to put you in there, give you grub and blankets, and lock the door. When I call on you again, if you tell the same story, I may turn you loose. If you don't--"

Randy listened to all this without a word. When the men were locked in and he and his father went to the house, he asked:

"What was the idea of all that? We know we didn't shoot Judge Tarleton. What difference does it make, anyway? We'll have to shoot the judge and the boys, all three, whenever we meet them. Better hang these two, while you can."

"I give 'em my word, Randy, and my word's generally pretty good. They've got some law on this side of the river, and we're apt to need witnesses before this mess is over."

Randy didn't believe his father was likely to pay much attention to law in a mess like this, but he didn't argue the matter. Instead, he said:

"All right. We'll talk about that in the morning. I didn't know I was sleepy until right now. I want to eat something and go to bed."

Railroad didn't insist on knowing what had happened that day. In half an hour Randy was asleep in bed. He couldn't have kept awake even if he had known what would happen while he slept--and he didn't know.