William MacDonald - The Battle At Three-Cross

“But why capture me?” Lance asked.

The Yaquente shrugged his shoulders. “Big chief, him point out you. Call you man with hair like fire. I’m see you when you brought in. I’m remember how you save me from whipeeng. I’m save you from sacrificio . I’m no obligación ——”

“Whoa! Sure, your debt’s discharged, if that’s what you mean. But I don’t get this.” Lance asked more questions. Gradually it dawned on him; his eyes widened. “Me?” he exclaimed. “A human sacrifice to your god—that snake with feathers?”

The Indian nodded stolidly, then went through the motions of cutting open his breast and tearing out his heart. Lance shivered. The Yaquente’s appearance of uneasiness increased. Now he hurried faster. He refused to reply to more than a few of Lance’s questions. Abruptly they arrived at a steep incline covered with loose rock. Together they clambered up the face of the incline. Great boulders were at the crest. There seemed to be some sort of twisted passage among the boulders. Eventually they arrived at a point where a great plain opened up before them. Lance saw grazing country and a few cows scattered here and there. Then his heart gave a great leap. Not ten miles away he saw a group of adobe buildings, tiny in the bright, sunlit distance.

“Your friends there,” the Yaquente grunted. He started to follow a steep path down to a clump of trees at the bottom. Lance followed closely on his heels. Finally they stopped at the foot of the descent, and there, under a mesquite tree, Lance saw his roan gelding tethered. “Jeepers!” Lance exclaimed. “Horatio, you don’t forget anything. The caballo! Horse!”

The Yaquente grinned. “I’m steal heem from corral,” he stated proudly. “You ride. Leave countree. Not safe. Go ’way queeck!”

Lance shook hands again. He invited the Indian to get up behind him on the horse, but the Yaquente refused. “Adiós!” he said, and stepped into a clump of high brush. The next instant he had disappeared. Lance called to him twice, but there was no answer. The Indian had taken his departure with all the stealth of the snake he worshiped. Lance waited a minute longer, then mounted and turned the horse’s head in the direction of the ranch buildings he had seen.

XVIII Risky Business!

Lance strode steadily for some time. The Three-Cross buildings were nearer now. He could make out a clump of cottonwood trees and a windmill whirring in the breeze. From time to time he had passed a few cattle bearing on the left ribs the Three-Cross brand. Other cattle were unbranded. None of the animals appeared to be of high-grade stock. As he drew nearer the ranch buildings Lance saw a long adobe ranch house fronted by a gallery that stretched across the entire front of the structure. There were a bunk house, corrals and other miscellaneous buildings. There were a few horses in one of the corrals, but of human life about the place there was no sign.

Lance dismounted before the house, mounted two low stone steps and strode across the flag-paved gallery. A door stood slightly open before him. He pushed it the rest of the way and found himself gazing into a long room with many Indian rugs scattered about on its beaten earth floor. There was a big fireplace at one end. On the white-washed walls were a couple of mounted deer heads and one or two framed pictures. Here and there a chimayo blanket made a vivid splash of yellow or scarlet to add to the decorative effect. Comfortable chairs, well worn, and a long, low table holding a clutter of miscellaneous objects helped fill up the room. There seemed to be a great deal of dust over everything, and it didn’t look as though the ranch house had had a good sweeping in some time.

“Huh,” Lance grunted, “if Malcolm Fletcher pulled out of Pozo Verde in such a hurry to come down here and get the place ready for Katherine it sure looks like he forgot his good intentions before he arrived.” He walked on into the room, closing the door behind him, and raised his voice: “Anybody home? Hey! Katherine! Oscar! Professor!”

His call received instant results. He caught a startled cry, and a door at one end of the room burst open. Katherine stood there, her long yellow hair loose and hanging below her waist. She was still in overalls, dusty, torn overalls. Her face was smudged with dirt. The girl paused in the doorway, her deep blue eyes growing wider and wider. “Lance? Lance! Is it really you?” she half whispered. Suddenly a glad cry was torn from her lips, and she came forward.

Things happened pretty quick after that. Before he realized what he was doing Lance moved toward the girl, and his arms whipped hungrily about her. Her face lifted to his. Thereafter there was silence for some time. Finally Katherine broke away, her face crimson under the smudges of dirt.

“Yeah, it’s me—I’m back.” Lance grinned.

Katherine said, “You certainly came back with a rush. Lance! Things happened to us all of a sudden, didn’t they? I didn’t know I was going to do that and then—then——”

“I know.” Lance grinned happily. “I hadn’t intended to say a thing until—until after things get straightened out but I kind of got swept off my feet.”

“You did a good job of sweeping yourself, mister.” Katherine smiled. “And look at me! I’m a sight.”

Lance started toward the girl again, arms outstretched, but Katherine warded him off. “Sight or no sight”—Lance chuckled—“isn’t there a saying to the effect that a new broom sweeps clean?”

At that minute a door at the opposite end of the room opened, and Professor Jones appeared. “Bless me!” he exclaimed. “Thought I heard your voice, Lance. Couldn’t believe it.” He paused, noticing their blushing faces and taking in the situation at a glance. “Look groggy—both of you.” He smiled. “Sudden triumph for the emotions, eh? What? Don’t blame you. Young myself once, y’understand. Katherine—I—both worried. Lance! Where in hell you been?” He had Lance’s hand in his by this time, shaking it soundly.

“It’s sure a relief to find you two,” Lance said, “but where’s all the rest? I’ll tell my story in a minute.”

“Everybody else is looking for you,” Katherine said. “We’ve all been out all night. Uncle Uly and I just got back. Oscar was with us. I simply had to clean up. Then I heard your voice. Oscar’s gone to Muletero to see if he could learn anything. It’s only about four miles from here, you know. Lordy, I’ll bet I’ve tramped and rode a hundred square miles of brush country.”

It appeared that when Lance hadn’t returned with the professor’s horse the previous day Katherine and Jones had finally come to look for him. All three horses were as they had left them. Katherine had mounted and raced down the mountainside to catch up with Oscar and the rest of the wagon train. While two men stayed with the wagons the rest had ascended the mountain to look for traces of Lance. That continued until darkness when the search was temporarily halted, and the party came on to the Three-Cross. Then the men had once more started out on a search for Lance that had lasted the rest of the night and was still continuing. Oscar, Jones and Katherine had finally returned to the Three-Cross to see if the rest had put in an appearance with news.

“I can’t understand why”—Lance frowned—“some of them didn’t find sign where I was standing when it happened.”

“Oscar did,” Katherine said. “So did Lanky Peters. They found ‘sign’ where two men had waited on a shelf of rock above the horses. One of them had apparently leaped on you. We figured you were knocked unconscious and carried away. Footprints showed where they had taken you down through a narrow gully. Then, due to the scattered rock footing, the prints entirely disappeared. And so much time had already been lost——But, Lance, what did happen to you?”