The Heart of Thunder Mountain

He looked steadily at Raley and Smith, who exchanged glances.

“What’s your awful hurry?” Larkin demanded, in a drawling tone, but with an anxious eye for the galloping figure now in plain view. “We’ll give Haig a chance to bid–eh, men?”

Smith shot an angry but uneasy look at the leader. Huntington saw it, and guessed that there was more than weariness and greed in the willingness of Smith and Raley to combine against Larkin. Probably, he thought, there had been differences of opinion, disputes even, on the road to Paradise. He turned impatiently toward the store.

At that instant Thompson ran out, broke through the ring of men, and handed a roll of “yellowbacks” to Huntington, who hurriedly peeled off several of the bills, and thrust them at arm’s length toward the wavering cow-punchers.

“Haig talked about a thousand dollars!” he cried. “There’s fifteen hundred. Do you want it?”

For a moment it was heads or tails. Even Larkin eyed the money hungrily. Then his teeth clicked together, and he turned upon his partners, whose faces showed plainly the answer that was upon their lips.

“An’ what’ll you say to him?” he demanded.

“Eighteen hundred!” shouted Huntington.

“That’s good enough for me!” cried Raley. “Say it, Jud!”

There was a distant thunder of hoofs as Haig’s horse took the short bridge over the Brightwater. The crowd backed still farther away from Huntington, who was again fingering his roll of bills.

“Two thousand!” he roared, shaking the handful of “yellowbacks” at the wavering Smith.

Raley leaned from his saddle, and grabbed Smith’s arm.

“Quick, Jud!” he pleaded hotly. “Don’t be a fool!”

“All right! We’ll take it!” answered Smith.

“No!” said Larkin firmly, pulling his horse around between Huntington and the two partners.

“Yes!” the two cried out together.

Huntington stepped forward, and thrust both handfuls of bills almost into Larkin’s face.

“Name your price then!” he bellowed.

Larkin looked at the money,–smelt it,–as he said afterwards, grimly confessing his weakness at the sight of more than he could save in years of riding the range and branding mavericks. If there had been ten seconds more–

Haig galloped into the crowd, which gave him plenty of room, and reined up his pony just in front of the golden outlaw. For some instants he saw only the horse; and his eyes kindled. Then he faced the cowboys and Huntington.

They were fixed in almost the very attitudes in which he had come upon them. Huntington’s outstretched hands had indeed fallen to his side, but they still clutched the crumpled bills. Raley’s blood-stained face was purple with anger and chagrin, while Smith’s wore a sullen, hangdog look. As for Larkin, he met Haig’s questioning scrutiny with a look of mingled triumph and guilt.

“Well, why don’t you go on?” asked Haig, with a smile.

There was no response. The silence was again so complete that the music of the Brightwater was heard across the meadows.

Haig slowly swept the crowd with an inquiring glance. All these men were hostile toward him, of course; but how far would they support Huntington? No matter! He swung himself suddenly out of the saddle, and addressed himself to the leader of the cowboys.

“You’re Larkin, aren’t you?” he said.

“Yes,” answered the embarrassed cow-puncher.

“And the others are Smith and–”

“Raley,” prompted Larkin.

“And here, of course, is my good friend Huntington, looking like Fortune with both hands full.”

Several men in the crowd laughed, whereupon Huntington, who had evidently forgotten the money, made matters worse for himself by hastily and clumsily thrusting it into the pockets of his coat, while his face flushed angrily.

“That’s right, Cousin Seth,” Haig said lightly. “You may need it.”

Marion, at these words, quivered with alarm. Was he going to tell Huntington, there in that crowd, of the incident in the pasture? His next speech, however, reassured her.

“Now, Larkin,” he said, “let’s understand things. That’s my horse, isn’t it?”

“That’s what I’ve been sayin’ some time back,” answered Larkin, in a tone of relief.

“And you, Smith?”

“I suppose so,” was the sullen reply.

“And Raley?”

“No, it ain’t!” answered that one with a sudden flare-up of courage.

“Then whose horse is it?”

“It belongs to Larkin an’ Smith an’ me.”

“Of course. But why did you bring him to Paradise Park?”

“To sell him.”

“To whom, please?”

Raley, caught in the trap, looked appealingly toward Smith, but got no help from him.

“To whom?” repeated Haig sharply.

“To you–if you wanted him!” Raley blurted out at last.

“If I wanted him!” retorted Haig ironically. “I bargained for him with you, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” growled Raley.

“And you went and caught him for me?”

“Yes.”