Then you are satisfied? said Demorest, regarding him steadfastly.
You bet! Look!
He turned in his saddle and pointed to the crest of the hill they had just descended. Above the pines circling the lower slope above the bare ledges of rock and outcrop, a column of thick black smoke was rising straight as a spire in the windless air.
Thats the old shanty passing away, said Stacy complacently. I reckon there wont be much left of it before we get to Boomville.
Demorest and Barker stared. You fired it? said Barker, trembling with excitement.
Yes, said Stacy. I couldnt bear to leave the old rookery for coyotes and wild-cats to gather in, so I touched her off before I left.
Butsaid Barker.
But, repeated Stacy composedly. Hallo! whats the matter with that new plan of The Rest that youre going to build, eh? You dont want them BOTH.
And you did this rather than leave the dear old cabin to strangers? said Barker, with kindling eyes. Stacy, I didnt think you had that poetry in you!
Theres heaps in me, Barker boy, that you dont know, and I dont exactly sabe myself.
Only, continued the young fellow eagerly, we ought to have ALL been there! We ought to have made a solemn rite of it, you know,a kind of sacrifice. We ought to have poured a kind of libation on the ground!
I did sprinkle a little kerosene over it, I think, returned Stacy, just to help things along. But if you want to see her flaming, Barker, you just run back to that last corner on the road beyond the big red wood. Thats the spot for a view.
As Barkeralways devoted to a spectacleswiftly disappeared the two men faced each other. Well, what does it all mean? said Demorest gravely.
It means, old man, said Stacy suddenly, that if we hadnt had nigger luck, the same blind luck that sent us that strike, you and I and that Barker over there would have been swirling in that smoke up to the sky about two hours ago! He stopped and added in a lower, but earnest voice, Look here, Phil! When I went out to fetch water this morning I smelt something queer. I went round to the back of the cabin and found a hole dug under the floor, and piled against the corner wall a lot of brush-wood and a can of kerosene. Some of the kerosene had been already poured on the brush. Everything was ready to light, and only my coming out an hour earlier had frightened the devils away. The idea was to set the place on fire, suffocate us in the smoke of the kerosene poured into the hole, and then to rush in and grab the treasure. It was a systematic plan!
No! said Demorest quietly.
No? repeated Stacy. I told you I saw the whole thing and took away the kerosene, which I hid, and after you had gone used it to fire the cabin with, to see if the ones I suspected would gather to watch their work.
It was no part of their FIRST plan said Demorest, which was only robbery. Listen! He hurriedly recounted his experience of the preceding night to the astonished Stacy. No, the fire was an afterthought and revenge, he added sternly.
But you say you cut the robber in the hand; there would be no difficulty in identifying him by that.
I wounded only a HAND, said Demorest. But there was a HEAD in that attempt that I never saw. He then revealed his own half-suspicions, but how they were apparently refuted by the bravado of Steptoe and Whiskey Dick.
Then that was the reason THEY didnt gather at the fire, said Stacy quickly.
Ah! said Demorest, then YOU too suspected them?
Stacy hesitated, and then said abruptly, Yes.
Demorest was silent for a moment.
Why didnt you tell me this this morning? he said gently.
Stacy pointed to the distant Barker. I didnt want you to tell him. I thought it better for one partner to keep a secret from two than for the two to keep it from one. Why didnt you tell me of your experience last night?
I am afraid it was for the same reason, said Demorest, with a faint smile. And it sometimes seems to me, Jim, that we ought to imitate Barkers frankness. In our dread of tainting him with our own knowledge of evil we are sending him out into the world very poorly equipped, for all his three hundred thousand dollars.
I reckon youre right, said Stacy briefly, extending his hand. Shake on that!
The two men grasped each others hands.
And hes no fool, either, continued Demorest. When we met Steptoe on the road, without a word from me, he closed up alongside, with his hand on the lock of his rifle. And I hadnt the heart to praise him or laugh it off.
Nevertheless they were both silent as the object of their criticism bounded down the trail towards them. He had seen the funeral pyre. It was awfully sad, it was awfully lovely, but there was something grand in it! Who could have thought Stacy could be so poetic? But he wanted to tell them something else that was mighty pretty.
What was it? said Demorest.
Well, said Barker, dont laugh! But you know that Jack Hamlin? Well, boys, hes been hovering around us on his mustang, keeping us and that pack-mule in sight ever since we left. Sometimes hes on a side trail off to the right, sometimes off to the left, but always at the same distance. I didnt like to tell you, boys, for I thought youd laugh at me; but I think, you know, hes taken a sort of shine to us since he dropped in last night. And I fancy, you see, hes sort of hanging round to see that we get along all right. Id have pointed him out before only I reckoned you and Stacy would say he was making up to us for our money.
And wed have been wrong, Barker boy, said Stacy, with a heartiness that surprised Demorest, for I reckon your instincts the right one.
There he is now, said the gratified Barker, just abreast of us on the cut-off. He started just after we did, and hes got a horse that could have brought him into Boomville hours ago. Its just his kindness.
He pointed to a distant fringe of buckeye from which Jack Hamlin had just emerged. Although evidently holding in a powerful mustang, nothing could be more unconscious and utterly indifferent than his attitude. He did not seem to know of the proximity of any other traveler, and to care less. His handsome head was slightly thrown back, as if he was caroling after his usual fashion, but the distance was too great to make his melody audible to them, or to allow Barkers shout of invitation to reach him. Suddenly he lowered his tightened rein, the mustang sprang forward, and with a flash of silver spurs and bridle fripperies he had disappeared. But as the trail he was pursuing crossed theirs a mile beyond, it seemed quite possible that they should again meet him.
They were now fairly into the Boomville valley, and were entering a narrow arroyo bordered with dusky willows which effectually excluded the view on either side. It was the bed of a mountain torrent that in winter descended the hillside over the trail by which they had just come, but was now sunk into the thirsty plain between banks that varied from two to five feet in height. The muleteer had advanced into the narrow channel when he suddenly cast a hurried glance behind him, uttered a Madre de Dios! and backed his mule and his precious freight against the bank. The sound of hoofs on the trail in their rear had caught his quicker ear, and as the three partners turned they beheld three horsemen thundering down the hill towards them. They were apparently Mexican vaqueros of the usual common swarthy type, their faces made still darker by the black silk handkerchief tied round their heads under their stiff sombreros. Either they were unable or unwilling to restrain their horses in their headlong speed, and a collision in that narrow passage was imminent, but suddenly, before reaching its entrance, they diverged with a volley of oaths, and dashing along the left bank of the arroyo, disappeared in the intervening willows. Divided between relief at their escape and indignation at what seemed to be a drunken, feast-day freak of these roystering vaqueros, the little party re-formed, when a cry from Barker arrested them. He had just perceived a horseman motionless in the arroyo who, although unnoticed by them, had evidently been seen by the Mexicans. He had apparently leaped into it from the bank, and had halted as if to witness this singular incident. As the clatter of the vaqueros hoofs died away he lightly leaped the bank again and disappeared. But in that single glimpse of him they recognized Jack Hamlin. When they reached the spot where he had halted, they could see that he must have approached it from the trail where they had previously seen him, but which they now found crossed it at right angles. Barker was right. He had really kept them at easy distance the whole length of the journey.