They Of The High Trails Part 64

"What judge?"

"Probably Judge Brinkley."

"I am glad of that. Mr. Hanscom knows Judge Brinkley. As soon as you hear from Mr. Lyford let me know, please."

Meanwhile Hanscom had been stopped while bringing the valises to the hotel and was now in Throop's care. Each hour seemed to involve the ranger deeper, ever deeper, in his slough of troubles, for it was reported that Cuneo had 'phoned in from the Cambria power-dam saying he would reach the town in two hours, and one who had talked with him said the receiver burned his ear, so hot was the sheepman's wrath.

Helen, greatly troubled, in an agony of impatience awaited Willing's return, and the housekeeper of the hotel, who came to offer her advice, did not help to tranquillity.

"It's a good thing the ranger's locked up," she said, "for old Cuneo, father of the girl, is in town and on the ranger's trail with blood in his eye."

Of course the eager gossip did not know that the ranger and this handsome girl were something more than acquaintances, hence she felt free to enlarge upon and embroider each sc.r.a.p of rumor, after the fashion of her kind, and Helen had great difficulty in concealing her increasing anxiety and self-accusation.

"Don't say any of these things in my father's hearing," she sharply urged. "He must be kept free from excitement."

It was a singular, a most revealing experience for Helen to find that her deepening care for her stepfather and a grave sense of responsibility toward Hanscom were bringing out decision and determination in her own character. She increased in vigor and perception. "They shall not persecute this man because he is poor and alone," she declared, recalling with keen sense of pity his frank statement that all his property consisted of a couple of ponies, a saddle, and a typewriter.

She could not leave her father till a nurse came, and, as there was no telephone in her room, she could only wait--wait and think, and in this thinking she gave large s.p.a.ce to the forester. Her apathy, her bitterness were both gone. She was no longer the recluse. The mood which had made her a hermit now seemed both futile and morbid--and yet she was not ready to return to her friends and relatives in the East. That life she had also put away. "What if I were to make a new home--somewhere in the West?" she said, and in this speculation the worshipful face of the ranger came clear before her eyes.

She was restless and aching with inaction when a hall-boy announced the return of Mr. Willing, and, stepping into the hall, she discovered an entirely different Mr. Willing. He was no longer gallant; he was quietly respectful. With congratulatory word he handed to her two telegrams, one addressed to her, the other to the bank. One was from the president of the Walnut Hills Trust Company. It read: "Place five thousand dollars to Miss McLaren's credit. See that she wants for nothing. Report if she needs help. Her family is greatly alarmed. Any information concerning her will be deeply appreciated. Ask her to report at once."

The other was to Helen from Mr. Lyford, whom she had known for many years. As she read her face flushed and her eyes misted; then a glowing tide of power, a sense of security, swept over her.

"After all, I am alive and young and rightful owner of this money," she said to herself. "I will claim it and use it for some good purpose, and at this moment, what better purpose than to see that a brave, good man shall not lie in prison?" And, thanking the banker for his aid, she added: "If Mr. Rawlins, the supervisor, is still in town, I wish you would find him and ask him to come to me; tell him I want to see him immediately."

Willing took occasion, as he went through the hotel office down-stairs, to call the proprietor aside and say: "Anything Miss McLaren wants you'd better supply. She's able to pay."

The landlord, who had shared the general suspicion abroad in the community, stared. "Are you sure of that? I was just wondering about these folks. They have the reputation of being as poor as Job's off ox."

"You needn't worry. The girl has a balance in our bank of several thousand dollars."

"You don't tell me!" exclaimed the landlord.

Willing went on, smoothly: "Better give her the parlor and put an extension 'phone in for her use. She needs a trained nurse, but I'll attend to that if you'll see to the 'phone."

In theory, we all despise money; in fact, we find it of wondrous potency. Behold this hotelkeeper mentally taking his feet from his desk and removing his hat when he learned that one of these hermits had unlimited credit at the bank. Mr. Willing's cashier was also deeply impressed and puzzled.

"What did such a girl mean by living away up there with that Sh.e.l.lfish gang of rustlers and counterfeiters? What's the idea?" he asked, irritably. "She certainly has acted like a fly-by-night up to this time."

"Well, she's established herself now. Her connections are first cla.s.s,"

Willing rejoined. "Here's another telegram from Louisville asking full information concerning Miss McLaren and Arnold Kauffman. They don't stop at expense. Evidently they have all been in the dark about the girl's whereabouts and want the facts. Some story to put into a telegram, but I'll do my best."

"Don't scare 'em," cautioned Knight. "Say she's all right and surrounded by friends."

Willing took his turn at smiling. "Didn't look that way this morning, did it? But she's all right now--except that she's terribly wrought up over Hanscom's predicament."

"Well, no wonder. As near as I can figger, he's stood by her like a brother-in-law, and the least she can do is to stick around and help him out."

Conditions between Helen and the ranger were now precisely reversed. It was she who was eagerly trying to save him from the prison cell. She was alarmed, also, by the prediction made by the housekeeper that if the ranger were released on bail he would only be out of the frying-pan into the fire, for old Cuneo would surely meet him and demand satisfaction.

"Perhaps if I were to see Cuneo," she thought, "I could persuade him that Mr. Hanscom had no wish to involve Margarita--that her arrest was only, in a way, incidental to Busby's capture."

She said nothing of this resolution, but sent a note to Throop, requesting him to let Rawlins know that she was ready to bail Hanscom.

"It will be a great injustice if he is held on my account."

Throop replied in person, for he liked Helen and was eager to do Hanscom a favor. "Yes," he said, "Hans is in jail, but not in a cell, and I think Rawlins will succeed in reaching the judge and so get out the writ this afternoon."

"Is there not some way for me to help? How much bail is needed?"

"Well, all depends on the judge. The charge the Kitsongs bring is pretty serious. They call it a.s.sault with a deadly weapon, and I'll have to testify that Hans was armed when I came into the sc.r.a.p--and yet Simpson says he left the hotel without his gun--Simpson declares Hanscom said: 'I'm safer without it. I might fly mad and hurt somebody with it!' As I say, I didn't see the beginning of the battle, but when I broke into it, 'peared to me more like a dozen armed men were attacking Hans. They had him jammed up against the wall. He was fighting mad--I must admit that, and later he had a gun. Where he got it, I don't know. However, that shouldn't count against him, for he was only defending himself as any citizen has a right to do."

"Surely the judge will take that into account?"

"He will; but you see the witnesses are mostly all Abe's friends. And then Hans did begin it--he admits he jolted Abe. However, the case will come up before Brinkley, and he's friendly. He'll do all he can."

"Could I see him--I mean the judge?"

"Better not. Judges are fairly testy about being 'seen.' It would look bad--especially after it got noised around that you had money to spend on the case."

"Anyhow, Mr. Rawlins must let me relieve him of the financial part of the burden. It may not be easy for him to sign such a bond."

"It isn't easy--now, that's the truth," admitted Throop. "You see, he's only a young fellow on a salary, and it means a whole lot to a man just starting a home. He might have to pledge his entire outfit."

"Don't let him do that--he mustn't do that! Tell him that I will a.s.sume all the hazard."

Throop extended a big paw in a gesture of admiration and his throat needed clearing before he spoke. "You're all _right_!" he said. "Hans is in big luck to have you on his side."

She submitted to his grip with a fine glow in her face. "I _must_ be on his side, for he has been on my side all along. He was the one soul in all this land that I could trust."

Throop's statement concerning Rawlins was right. To put up a thousand-dollar bond was a serious matter. It meant pledging his whole fortune, and the case was made the more serious by reason of the probable disapproval of the district office, and yet he liked Hanscom too well not to do all he could for him. Hanscom, who realized quite clearly his former chief's predicament, urged him not to sign.

"The office won't like it, Jack--especially as I have quit the work."

They were in the midst of a heated discussion of this point (in Throop's office) when the sheriff returned from his interview with Helen. He entered wearing a broad smile.

"I've got something for you, Mr. Supervisor. I've got you a date with the handsomest girl in the county."

Rawlins remained calm. "There's only one girl in the world for me, and she's in Cambria, getting supper for me. However, I'm interested. Who is the lady?"

Throop dropped his humorous mask. "Miss McLaren wants to see you. She's fairly anxious about Hans--wants to go on his bond with you, or instead of you."

Hanscom gazed at the sheriff in silence, but Rawlins exclaimed: "Bless the girl! That's fine of her, but does she realize what going on this bond means?"

"She does, and she's willing to back Hans with two thousand dollars if necessary."

Rawlins, frankly astonished, asked: "Two thousand dollars! Has she got it?"

"She has, and a good deal more. Willing of the First National has been in touch with her people back East, and apparently there's no end to what they're ready to do for her. Somebody, a brother or cousin, has come to her rescue like a savings-bank. Hans, you do beat the devil for luck. I was ready to congratulate you before--now I am just plumb, low-down envious."