"He's over in your shack. I saw him go there at sundown."

Peter's face cleared.

"Good," he cried. "Come on, we'll all go over there. I'll go by the front way, with Elia. You sneak out the back way after we're gone."

CHAPTER XXIV

FOR A WOMAN

Seated before the cold stove in Peter Blunt's hut, Jim Thorpe was lost in moody thought. His day had been long and wearying. He had risen before sun-up with little enough hope in his heart to cheer his day in the saddle, and now he was contemplating his blankets at night with even less.

Search, search. That had been his day. A fruitless search for the one man whom he now believed to be the only person who could lift the blight of suspicion from his overburdened shoulders.

Yes, where most Eve had sought to shield, she had most surely betrayed by her woman's weakness and fear. For the truth had been forced upon Jim's unsuspicious mind even against himself. Eve's terror, during her long talk with him on his return from McLagan's ranch, had done the very thing she had most sought to prevent. Her whole att.i.tude had told him its own story of her anxiety for some one, and that some one could only have been her husband. And the rest had been brought about by the arguments of his own common sense.

At first her fear had only suggested the anxiety of a friend for himself, at the jeopardy in which public suspicion had placed him. Now he laughed at the conceit of the thought, although, at the time, it had seemed natural enough. Then the intensity of her fears had become so great, and the personal, selfish note in her att.i.tude so p.r.o.nounced, that his suspicion was aroused, and he found himself groping for its meaning, its necessity.

Her terror seemed absurd. It could not be for him. It was out of all proportion. No, it was not for him. Was it for herself? He could see no reason. Then, why? For whom? And in a flash, as such realizations sometimes do come, even to the most unsuspicious, the whole thing leaped into his focus. If she had nothing to fear for herself, for whom did she fear? There was but one person--her husband.

If she feared for her husband, then she must suspect him. If she suspected, then there must be reason. But once this key was put into his hand, it needed little argument to make the whole thing plain.

Point after point occurred to his mind carrying with each a conviction that was beyond the necessity of any argument that he could offer. He saw the whole thing with much the same instinctive conviction with which the wife had seen it.

Will had calculated his revenge on him carefully. He saw now what Eve had missed. The using of the "[double star]" brand,--which he must have stolen from Jim's implement shed--the running of the small bunch of McLagan's cattle with his, Jim's; these things had been well thought out, a carefully calculated revenge for his interference on the night Will had come so near to killing his own wife. He meant to throw suspicion upon him, suspicion which, in such a country of hot-headed cattlemen, was so narrowly removed from conviction.

So he had set out on his solitary quest to find this man, and had failed. He felt that he must find him, yet he hardly knew how it could serve him to do so. For there was that in the back of his mind which sorely troubled him.

He was thinking of Eve. Poor Eve! With Will found, or suspicion directed upon him, her troubles would be a hundred times magnified.

The man was her husband, and there was no doubt in his mind, that, whatever his faults, she still loved him. If he needed confirmation of his belief there was her anxiety, her terrible dread when talking to him. The position was one to tax a far more subtle mind than his. What was to be done?

Clear himself he must, but every way he looked seemed to be barred by the certainty of bringing disgrace and unhappiness upon Eve. The thought revolted him, and yet--and yet, why should he take the blame?

Why should he leave his name stinking in the mire of such a crime? It was maddening. What devilish luck! Was there no end to the cruelty of his fate?

Suddenly, he laughed. He had to, or the thing would drive him to something desperate. Fate had such refreshing ways of getting at a man. She brought about his disgrace through no fault of his own, and then refused him the only means of clearing himself. Fortune certainly could be a jade when she chose. Clear himself at the expense of the one woman in the world he loved? No, he couldn't do that. Perhaps that was why he was given such a cruel chance.

But his whimsical moment was quickly gone. The tragedy of his position was all too harsh for such levity, and he frowned down at the cold iron of Peter's stove. What must he do? He could see no way out. For perhaps the hundredth time that day his question remained unanswered.

One thing he had made up his mind to, although he could not see how it was to help him in his dilemma. He must find Will Henderson.

He rose from his seat, stretched his aching limbs, and turned to his blankets.

But he did not unroll them. The heavy step of some one approaching startled him. Who could it be? Peter was away--and yet--and yet---- He listened intently, and suddenly his eyes lit. It was like Peter's step. He went to the door and threw it open, and in a moment was greeting the one man whose coming at such a moment could have made him feel glad.

"Say, Peter, this is bully," he cried, shaking the big man's hand. "I didn't guess you'd be coming along in. Who's that with you? Eh? Oh, Elia."

Peter nodded. But his usual smile was lacking.

"Yes. Eve's just coming along. Ah, here she is," he added, as the girl suddenly appeared in the doorway. "Come in, my dear," he went on kindly. "Guess we caught Jim before he got down for the night."

Jim offered the girl no greeting. All thought of formalities was driven from his mind at the sight of her expression. The hunted look in her eyes was even greater than it had been two days ago, and he wondered what fresh development had brought it about. He was not long left in doubt. Peter eyed him ruefully, and then glanced at the door which was still open.

"It's trouble, Jim, fresh trouble, so--I guess I'll shut this door tight."

While he was doing so, Jim pushed the chair toward Eve, into which she almost fell. Then he glanced at Elia, speculating. As Peter returned to the group he dropped back and seated himself on the rough bed, waiting for enlightenment. Peter leaned himself against the table, his grizzled face frowning thoughtfully.

"I'm needing a horse to-night--now," he said. "An' he's got to do sixty miles between this and sundown to-morrow. I want yours. Can I have it?"

The man's shrewd blue eyes were steadily fixed on Jim's face. He was putting all his knowledge of the ranchman to the test in his own subtle way. He was asking this man to help him against himself. He was asking this man to help him prevent his removing the unmerited suspicion with which he was branded. But he intended to do it openly, frankly. And his reason was because he understood a good deal of human nature, and of Jim Thorpe particularly.

"You can have him. What for?"

"No, no," Eve cried, starting up to prevent Peter answering.

But the big man motioned her to calm herself.

"Don't worry, Eve, my dear," he said. "This thing's between Jim an'

me. And I don't think there's going to be much explanation needed."

Jim nodded, and his glance fell on Elia. He was wondering what part the boy was playing in the scene.

"It's Will," said Peter. "We've got to get him warned--for her sake."

He nodded in Eve's direction, but turned away quickly as her face dropped into her two hands and remained hidden.

"You don't need to tell me any more, Peter," said Jim, huskily. "Just give me the other details. You see, I fancy I know all about him, except his whereabouts."

Eve looked up startled.

"You know," she whispered in awe.

Jim nodded.

"I've thought things out this last two days," he said quietly. Then he turned to Peter. "But this warning. What's made it necessary? Have others been--thinking?"

"No. They've been put wise." Peter's eyes sought the unsmiling face of Elia. "You see, Elia hunted him out. He's told Doc where he'll find the rustlers. But mercifully he didn't say who the rustler was."

"Ah, Elia hates Will," Jim said thoughtfully.

"Doc's setting out to-night to--find him," Peter added.

Jim glanced from Eve to the grizzled man. Just for a second he marveled at him. Then the feeling pa.s.sed as recollections flew through his mind of a dozen and one kindnesses of heart which this quaint Englishman had performed. This was just the sort of thing Peter would do. He would simply, and unconcernedly, thrust his head into the lion's jaws to help anybody.

"You're going to take the warning?" he inquired.

"Sure." Then Peter added apologetically, with a swift glance in Eve's direction, "You see, we can't let 'em--find him."

A shadowy smile grew into Jim's eyes. Peter wanted his horse for a purpose. And that very purpose would inevitably drive the brand which was already upon him deeper and deeper into his flesh. He was calmly asking him to sacrifice himself for Eve. He glanced in the girl's direction, and all the old love was uppermost in his simple heart.