Twisted Trails (14 page)

Finding a canteen of water under the seat of the wagon, Paul splashed some over the driver's grizzled face. The man's head moved, and his eyes flickered open vacantly.

"Take it easy, old-timer," Paul said softly. "Here; let's see if we can straighten you out."

The man mumbled something unintelligible and tried to shake his head. Paul wished for whiskey, but he had none. He held the man's head back and forced water between his parched lips. For a moment the man revived, and Paul managed to turn him around and lay him back on the wide seat.

"What happened?" Paul asked hopefully. In his mind he had already guessed what had happened. Finch had ridden that way, and where Finch was, evil followed. Finch had shot the man, Finch had taken the money—

The man heaved a great sigh, and his eyes opened, clear and sane for a moment. His lips moved.

"Lieth—Lieth Severs. He was riding with me. Caught up with me back a ways. I let him ride—keep company." The man's blood-flecked lips stopped for a moment. With a great effort he tried to speak again. "Lieth Severs tried—tried to shoot—no chance. Went—south…"

The old man's head twisted, and his body appeared to shrink as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. If Paul had arrived earlier, he might have stopped the bleeding, but it was too late for that. He had to think about what the old man had said. All Paul had been able to get out of the disjointed sentences was that Lieth Severs had caught up with the old man and had been allowed to ride along. Then he had shot the driver, taken the money and headed south. But Finch must have fitted into it some place.

Gently Paul covered the still form on the seat with a tarp he found in the wagon. Then he searched for tracks. Heading away from the wagon were the long, narrow tracks of Finch's horse, and mingled with them were tracks of a different kind. Grimly Paul mounted and followed the trail. The horses had been traveling fast; that was evident by the length of their stride and the depth of the hoof marks. If Lieth Severs and Finch were together in this holdup, why should they be so frantic to get away from the scene of the crime? He realized now why Addie was unhappy.

Paul rode warily. Here was the work of desperate men, and he had been warned and shot at already. If he blundered into an ambush, he would have little chance of surviving. This was wild country, lawless country to a great extent. A lawless country became a sterile country, for no man could settle and grow without the law. Some day things would be different, and those who pioneered would enjoy the fruits of their labors.

He stopped his horse abruptly as the animal threw up his head and snorted. This was the manner of a horse around death. Paul searched the rough, broken landscape. Then, near a ledge of rock, Paul saw the body of the horse. Forcing his mount as near as he could to the dead animal, Paul dismounted and continued curiously on foot. The downed animal was still saddled, and it was not Finch's horse. It must belong to Lieth Severs. Paul walked around the animal, and there he saw the man pinned against the jagged rocks. He lay with his face hidden against the bright heat of the sun. Paul wanted to turn him over, but he had first to make sure it was safe.

He picked up the outflung arm and felt for a pulse. The pulse was strong.

He said loudly, "Can you hear me?"

There was no reply. The man had been thrown hard and evidently knocked unconscious. Then Paul saw the blood under his head and knew he had been shot. Paul had never seen Lieth Severs before, but there was something oddly familiar about the twisted figure. A leg was pinned securely under the fallen horse, and the horse had to be removed. After some coaxing, Paul got his mount near enough so that he could attach his rope to the carcass of the dead horse in such a way as to roll the heavy weight off the unconscious man's leg. When this was accomplished, he went back to the prone figure.

The leg had been horribly mangled across a sharp blade of rock as the weight of the horse crashed upon it. Now it lay in a tangle of bloody cloth, the broken bone exposed. It was a sickening sight, but one to be endured. The lifting of the weight off the leg had started it bleeding again, and Paul had to tie a tourniquet above the break to stop the flow of blood. This accomplished, he dared to turn the man over. He did this as gently as he could, and when the unconscious man was looking up at him, he caught his breath and let out a low curse of surprise. It took a long time for him to accept the truth, for it was totally unexpected. He had heard of Lieth Severs, he had conjured up a picture of him from all the talk, but he had never dreamed of anything like this. The face that looked up at him was that of Larry Scott! Larry Scott, his own brother!

Paul moved in a daze, and he remembered things that now made sense. This was why Finch had come to the valley, because he knew Larry was there. Alonzo was still using Larry, probably under the threat of exposing his past. Here was Larry, broken and ruined, while Finch was still free, his pockets lined with money Larry had almost died to steal.

There was a canteen of water on Larry's saddle, and Paul took it and bathed Larry's face, forcing some of it down his mouth. He washed the blood off the nasty crease alongside Larry's head. Finally Larry opened his eyes. He looked straight up at Paul, and there was defeat in his eyes. But it wasn't total defeat; it was mingled with remorse and defiance.

"Hello, Paul," Larry said quietly.

"How did you ever get mixed up in this, Larry?" Paul asked gently.

"I thought I could start over here," Larry said. "I found Addie, and we would have made it fine if Finch hadn't come. He learned I was here and came to blackmail me. This job was to be part of the blackmail. When I learned you were in the valley, I wanted to pull out of this job, and I told Finch so last night. He wouldn't let me."

"How could you always be so wrong, Larry?" Paul asked sadly. "If you could just once find the strength—"

"I found it today, Paul," Larry said almost in a whisper. "I found it today, and it's too late. I knew about the payroll money and how it was coming in by rattletrap. Carmody's done this before, and Addie and I knew about it. Finch promised to go and let me alone if I'd help him pull this job. I got back from Salt Lake last night and talked with Finch. But I kept out of sight and headed back along this trail. This morning I overtook the buckboard and rode with old Hitchens, the driver. Then all of a sudden I changed my mind. I told Hitchens of the danger, but when Finch came, we couldn't talk him out of it. He shot us both and got the money. I think I wounded Finch, but not bad. I got grooved in the head and was out for a minute, and when I came to, I hightailed it after Finch. He killed my horse and got away with the money."

"We've got to stop Finch, Larry. Can't you see that?"

"I figured if he left the valley you'd go with him, and I could stay here in peace. It's a lovely valley, Paul. But I'm tired, and I'm through. The one good thing I ever tried to do, this thing today, I botched up."

"I've got to get you to town. Then I've got to go after Finch."

"My leg's killing me, Paul. I'll never make it."

"You've got to make it. Addie needs you."

"Addie's too good for me," Larry whispered.

"Put your arms around my neck; I'm going to try to lift you," Paul said.

Larry complied, but as his weight buckled his shattered leg, he moaned and lost consciousness again. By a superhuman effort, Paul managed to get Larry across his back and carry him to his horse. Heaving him across the saddle like a sack of meal, he roped him in place. Then he walked back toward the buckboard, leading the horse with its sad burden.

When Paul drove the buckboard up to the Lone Chance with its burden of misery and death, it was afternoon, and a few idlers on the porch and some of the men from the railroad camp, who were anxious for their pay, clustered around. Paul saw a man mounted on a horse, and he spoke to him.

"Ride like the wind to the army post, and bring the doctor," he ordered.

As the man took off, Addie came to the door, with Carmody right behind her. Paul dreaded what Addie must see, but there was no way of avoiding it. She came down the steps warily, as though sensing something wrong. Carmody hurried past her.

"What happened, Scott?" he barked, his eyes scowling.

Paul kept secret Lieth Severs' true identity for the time being. He said, "Lieth Severs, on his way back from Salt Lake, was riding with Hitchens in the buckboard. Finch held 'em up and killed Hitchens. He almost killed Lieth…"

Addie said with a catch in her voice, "Is Lieth hurt? Where is he?"

"Here, Addie," Paul said, pulling back the tarpaulin to reveal the dead man and his unconscious partner.

"Lieth!" Addie said as though the word were torn from her. "Oh, Lieth."

"I've sent for the doctor," Paul said. "Get him in bed, Addie; that's all you can do. Get him in bed and pray. I'm going after Finch."

"Finch?" somebody in the crowd repeated. "Why, I saw him heading up Gull Canyon not an hour ago. I was rabbit hunting in the big gully, and he was riding up that way out of sight most of the time."

"Thanks," Paul said.

"I'll go with you," Carmody offered.

"You stay here and help Addie," Paul told him. "Finch is my meat, remember?"

With that, Paul mounted and turned his horse toward the mountains. He was a little confused and perplexed by the news that Finch had come back so close to the Lone Chance. Did he, believing that Lieth Severs and old Hitchens were both dead, expect to come back to Camp Boyd and deny any knowledge of the holdup? That seemed a little farfetched, yet if what he had just heard was true, Finch was back. Why? He could not expect to keep up a life of crime in such a sparsely settled part of the country without being found out.

Paul crossed the big gully and turned up the road toward the line cabin in Gull Canyon. Gull Canyon led nowhere. Why had Finch gone up there? Of course, the man could have been mistaken, and it might have been somebody else he had seen. Finch was now a murderer with a living witness against him. He had money. Had he come back for something else? A woman?

Paul worried that thought as a dog worries a bone. What woman? Guiltily he remembered what he had seen from the hill trail yesterday when he had been riding with Norah. Something must have gone wrong for Finch. That thing must have been Lieth Severs' resistance. If Severs had gone along with the game, they could have killed the old man and spirited away the money. Lieth could have pretended to return from Salt Lake in the day, and Finch could have come back without a witness against him. But Lieth Severs, born Larry Scott, had found his conscience and his courage. And Lieth was still alive.

Paul made a turn in the canyon and pulled swiftly into the tall choke-cherry bushes at the side of the road. He could see the cabin, and before it stood the Young buggy. What crazy scheme had Finch convicted now? Was he planning to lure Helen Young away from her family for pure hate? For revenge against Norah? Certainly Finch could not be true to any one woman for long. How could a woman like Helen become infatuated with him?

Finch's horse was nowhere in sight, and he wondered if Finch had been there and gone. Paul could take no chances, for Finch was now a desperate man, a man who could win freedom only by destroying anything in his path. It was true he might believe Severs dead, in which case he would have time to complete his perfidious scheme.

Keeping in the bushes, Paul dismounted and crept forward on foot. Nearer the cabin, the bushes were scattered and he had to depend upon luck. He felt of his gun and, crouching low, ran the last twenty feet to the door. Drawing his gun, he thrust the door open and stepped inside. For a second he stood shocked speechless, looking at the woman standing in the middle of the room.

"You?" Paul gasped incredulously. "You?"

"You don't understand," Norah said, her voice pleading.

"You were going to leave with him—with a thief and a murderer?" Paul said relentlessly.

"No—no."

"Where is he?"

"His horse was hidden out in back. He took off over the hill. He was wounded in the side. Paul, you've got to stop him."

"Why? Where is he going?"

"Maybe to the ranch."

"Why do you say that? Tell me the truth, Norah. You've been holding back from me, and I want to help you. You can't protect your mother any more…"

"You knew!" Norah gasped.

"I saw the buggy here with Finch's horse tied to it yesterday."

"I see," Norah said resignedly. "All right; Alonzo sent my mother a note last night. I intercepted it. I might as well confess everything. I opened the note and read it. I don't care what you think of me."

"I think you did right, Norah," Paul said quietly, putting his hands on her shoulders. "What was in the note?"

"It told my mother to meet him here today—now. She was to bring something with her, something important, but I don't know what it was. They were going to go away, so the note said. I kept the note. I came here in place of my mother, but Finch cursed when he found me here. He would have struck me, if I hadn't seen you coming up the trail. I tried to get him to go away and leave my mother alone, but he laughed and called me a simple fool who didn't know what life was all about. Even when I promised to go with him, he refused. There was something more important to him than any woman."

Paul said, "Finch doesn't know what a tight spot he's in. He may go back to the Lone Chance. I'm going there first, Norah. You go home and stay there."

Paul saw the distress in her eyes, and his heart swelled for her. Hating Finch, she had offered to sacrifice herself for love of her mother. But the sacrifice had been for naught.

Paul watched her until she got the buggy turned around; then he set out over the hill on the shorter trail to the Lone Chance. Finch was ahead of him, out of sight, but Finch was no fool. He knew that Paul would stay close on his heels. But if Finch believed that Hitchens and Severs were dead and nobody yet knew of the murder, he might still try to bluff it out, at least until he could get his hands on whatever it was Helen Young had.