She did not ask him how. The story went that the outlaws whom the wretched
man had tried to sell let him escape on purpose--that, just as he thought
he was free of them, their mocking laughter came to him from the rocks all
around. He was completely surrounded. They had merely let him run into a
trap. He escaped again, wandered without food for days, and again
discovered that they had been watching him all the time. Turn whichever
way he would, their rifles warned him back. He stumbled on, growing weaker
and weaker. They would neither capture him nor let him go.
For nearly a week the cruel game went on. Frequently he heard their voices
in the hills about him. Sometimes he would call out to them pitifully to
put him out of his misery. Only their horrible laughter answered. When he
had reached the limit of endurance he lay down and died.
And the man who had engineered that heartless revenge was riding beside
her. He had been ready to tell her the whole story, if she had asked for
it, and equally ready to justify it. Nothing could have shown her more
plainly the character of the villain into whose hands she had fallen.
They descended into the valley, winding in and out until they came
suddenly upon ranch houses and a corral in a cleared space.
A man came out of the shadows into the moonlight to meet them. Instantly
Melissy recognized his walk. It was Boone.
"Oh, it's you," MacQueen said coldly. "Any of the rest of the boys up?"
"No."
Not a dozen words had passed between them, but the girl sensed hostility.
She was not surprised. Dunc Boone was not the man to take second place in
any company of riff-raff, nor was MacQueen one likely to yield the
supremacy he had fought to gain.
The latter swung from the saddle and lifted Melissy from hers. As her feet
struck the ground her face for the first time came full into the
moonlight.
Boone stifled a startled oath.
"Melissy Lee!" Like a swiftly reined horse he swung around upon his chief.
"What devil's work is this?"
"My business, Dunc!" the other retorted in suave insult.
"By God, no! I make it mine. This young lady's a friend of mine--or used
to be. Sabe?"
"I sabe you'd better not try to sit in at this game, my friend."
Boone swung abruptly upon Melissy. "How come you here, girl? Tell me!"
And in three sentences she explained.