Edward G. Cheyney

THE RESCUE PARTY

Scott was up early the next morning in spite of his strenuous efforts of the day before and Mr. Ramsey met him at the breakfast table.

“Wife’s away on a visit,” Mr. Ramsey explained, “so I thought I would wait for you and get the story before you had worn it out telling it to these curiosity mongers around here.”

Scott told him the whole tale, including Dugan’s visit to the cabin the night before he left for the dam. The supervisor listened silently with frowning face. “Sort of a close corporation,” he remarked when Scott had finished. “It is certainly remarkable the way you have rounded the whole gang up. It has not been all luck as you say; you have shown very good judgment and done some hard work on it. That ought to put a stop to the monkey business around here for a while. We’ll just keep all this information about the graft in the service to ourselves for a while. We are well rid of Dugan and Jed and it will not be much of a trick to dispose of Benson. I think I shall let him stay in the office till it comes time for an investigation and then spring it on him.

“Dawson is the only one that worries me. I believe there is a lot of truth in the story he told you up at the dam. He has made us a mighty good man with the single exception of this dirty business deal in this district of yours, and he certainly has plenty of ability. I have never heard of a smoother scheme than the one he worked. He is more than half right in the argument he put up to you, too. If he really wants to put up a fight, as he probably will, it will be mighty hard to prove the charges against him; especially now that Jed and Dugan are out of it. I am not all sure we can nail him.”

“Yes,” Scott admitted, “I was counting on Jed pretty strong. It will not be so easy without him and yet I think that I can make out a fairly strong case.”

“Think you are not too stiff to ride back up there to the dam to-day?” Mr. Ramsey asked.

“I can make it all right if Jed can travel,” Scott said.

“Oh, he’s all right. I was out there to see him this morning and he has forgotten all about it. He is certainly a wonderful horse. Well, then, we’ll take a couple of the boys from here, including a doctor, and start in about half an hour.”

The supervisor went to make his preparations for the trip and Scott hurried out to the stable to see Jed. As Mr. Ramsey had said, he seemed to have forgotten all about it and was all ready to start out again. Scott rubbed him down thoroughly and rode out to meet the supervisor. Jed was a little stiff at first but soon limbered up and insisted on leading the procession.

The mighty flood which had roared so furiously in the caÑon up on the mountain had not reached the town at all. It had overflowed the river channel for a short distance but had already receded within its banks. The first ranch above the town had not been touched; the next two or three had been flooded but the water had not gotten into the houses and no damage had been done. In the case of the last two up near the mouth of the caÑon it was a different story. Everything movable had been washed away and Bronson’s house had been carried from the foundation and was lying on its side far out in the meadow. But no lives had been lost and all the stock had been saved. The settlers considered themselves lucky to have escaped as they did and were very grateful to Scott for the ample warning he had given them.

As they proceeded up the valley the ravages of the flood became more evident. There was a considerable volume of water still coming down the stream bed but the flood was over. It was not till they reached the turn in the valley below the lookout station that the full fury of the rushing water was apparent. The violence of the torrent had carried the water high up on the slope toward the lookout tower and had gouged an enormous pit out of the side of the mountain.

From there on the whole caÑon was a total wreck. Not only were all traces of the trail wiped out but the gorge was swept clean. Trees had been torn up by the roots and carried away. What little soil there had been between the rocks was gone and the horses scrambled over slippery beds of smooth, bare rock. An eighth of a mile below the dam they found great chunks of the mason work which had been carried there on the crest of the flood. They began to worry about the safety of the cabin.

The meadow looked more familiar than anything else they had seen. The deep sod alone of all the vegetation in the path of the water had held its own. It was scattered with great chunks of mason work and bowlders and the grass was badly clawed by the wash of the water but it was green and triumphant.

As they rounded the shoulder of rock which hid the view of the dam they heaved a sigh of relief. The west end of the dam, with the little cabin almost on the jagged end of it, was safe. The central portion of the dam was gone completely. Only the encircling crags and mountain peaks looked serenely down on the wreck unchanged. They might wear away eventually but they could withstand many a worse storm than that without showing it.

They hurried to the cabin in search of Dawson. The silence of the place seemed ominous. They found Dawson but he was unconscious and delirious. The suffering and exposure of the day before, the fright of Jed’s visit to the cabin and the terrible strain of lying helpless on the very verge of that crumbling dam had been too much for him. In addition to all that the doctor found that he had received a severe blow on the back of the head when he fell. The doctor decided that it would be better to keep him there at the cabin than to try to take him down that slippery trail on a litter and volunteered to stay there and nurse him. It looked as though it would be a close pinch even at that.

Scott explained the situation which had led up to the breaking of the dam and they started back for Benny’s. They spread out across the caÑon as far as the water had reached and searched every rock and cranny. It was over a quarter of a mile below the dam that they found what they were looking for. High up on the side of the caÑon, at the highest point reached by the water, they found the bodies of Dugan and Jed Clark almost locked in each other’s arms. It looked as though they had discovered the horrible mistake they had made and were trying to make up for it. The men made litters to carry the bodies down to Benny’s where they planned to spend the night. Scott and Mr. Ramsey rode on back to town.

Mr. Ramsey was worried. He wanted to have the investigation and clean out the remnants of the whole ring. This could not be done very well till Dawson was able to be present. It would not be fair to him to have the trial without giving him a chance to defend himself. Moreover, the evidence against him was almost wholly circumstantial and the supervisor doubted very much whether they would be able to convict him on it if he wanted to put up a fight. Knowing Dawson as well as he did he had no doubt about his putting up a fight as long as there was a ghost of a show to win. He had covered up his tracks so carefully that it looked like a very hard thing to prove anything on him. Scott still thought that he could put up a strong case but he did not have any absolute proof.

So the two rode along together in comparative silence, each one worrying over the same problem in his own way. When they rode out of the caÑon into the main valley they discovered quite a crowd around the Bronson home. The ranchers from all along the valley had assembled there to try to help Mr. Bronson put his house back on the foundation. These stout-hearted fellows were not in the least discouraged by the catastrophe which had overtaken them. Bronson had suffered more than the others and for that reason they had chosen to help him first. The others had already moved their families back into their homes and the wives were busy cleaning up for a fresh start.

They stopped to speak to the men, and, just as they were leaving, Mr. Bronson led the supervisor aside. “Are you going to be in your office to-morrow morning, Mr. Ramsey?”

“Yes, I expect to be.”

“Me and the rest of the boys have something we want to talk over with you, if you’ll have the time.”

“Come right ahead,” Mr. Ramsey urged. He was always glad of an opportunity to coÖperate with the settlers in any way and was very popular with them on that account.

“Better come over first thing in the morning,” Mr. Ramsey called to Scott as they parted in town, “I want to go over your records and the evidence you have collected. Maybe we can get that out of the way before those ranchers come in.”

Scott was kept busy all evening telling the story of the bursting of the dam. Even then he did not satisfy them all and there were so many others waiting to hear it in the morning that he was glad of the excuse to go to the office early. He found the supervisor already there getting together the evidence which he had on hand.

“Looks pretty good, Burton,” he said as Scott came in, “but I can’t find a thing to prove certainly that Dawson was Jed’s partner or was even vitally implicated in this scullduggery in any way. There is no question about it in my mind now but there is no proof which would stand in court.”

“I am afraid there isn’t,” Scott admitted. “I was in hopes that Jed would turn against him, but now that he is gone I can’t think of any way to prove it.”

Just then there was a tramping of many feet in the hall and the delegation of small ranchers filed into the office. Wren, the big gruff-mannered man who had threatened to thrash Scott for refusing the invitation to dinner when he stopped there to issue a free use permit, was the spokesman.

“I’m not going to take up much of your time,” he said in his usual rough way. “I expect you are sort of busy trying to fix up this mess and have mighty little time to talk about anything else. We don’t like the idea much of jumping on a man when he is down, but we figure that if we are going to get square with Dawson at all, now is our chance. Moreover, we want to see that justice is done to a friend of ours.”

At the mention of getting square with Dawson, Mr. Ramsey pricked up his ears. Possibly there was a chance here to get some evidence from a source on which they had not counted. “If you gentlemen have any charges to make against Dawson now is certainly the time to make them,” he said.

“Well, for the past five years he has been charging us for our free use permits.”

“Charging you for them?” the supervisor exclaimed in amazement. “How’s that?”

“Don’t know how to make it any plainer,” Wren answered. “Whenever we took out a free use permit we just had to pay so much for it.”

“Why didn’t you report it? You knew perfectly well that you did not have to pay for it.”

“Hicks thought he knew that one year and all his sheep died. ‘Loco weed,’ Dawson said.”

“And do you mean to say that this thing has been going on regularly on this forest for five years?”

“We never knew what it was to get a free use permit for nothing till this young man here came around this spring. And that’s why we are here. We heard that Dawson was trying to put the blame for those extras getting into the forest on him and we are not going to stand for that.”

“Have you ever paid money directly to Dawson for this?” Mr. Ramsey asked.

“Not for that, no. That was always paid to the guard or patrolman, but,” he hesitated a moment and then continued, “I don’t suppose it is much to our credit, but I might as well own up to it if it will help to clean things up; I’ve paid graft money to him direct for the privilege of running extras on the forest in addition to my free use permit. It was our only chance to get anything for the money he gouged out of us on the permits,” he explained.

“How about the rest of you?” the supervisor asked.

“All guilty,” responded one of the men.

“Would you be willing to testify to that in court?” the supervisor continued.

“Sure we would. That’s what we came for.”

“Good,” Mr. Ramsey exclaimed, “that will be exactly the proof I am looking for to convict Dawson. I felt sure that he was guilty but could not prove it. I am not fixed to take down that evidence now but I’ll come around to see you and get it as soon as I can. I certainly appreciate your help. I don’t blame you any for running in your extras under those conditions and I’ll forget it.”

“Well then,” Wren said simply, “I think we’ll be going. We have considerable work to do cleaning up around home. Before we go we want to thank this gentleman for the warning he gave us. We treated him pretty shabbily when he first came and now he has paid us back by saving all our stock for us. We feel pretty mean about it and are not ashamed to tell him so.”

“Seems to me you have a little more than squared yourselves now,” Scott said. “I feel as though I was considerably in your debt.”

They all shook hands with Scott cordially and filed out of the office again.

“Things are coming our way, Burton,” Mr. Ramsey smiled. “If I could prove that Dawson was Jed Clark’s partner now and mixed up with that big deal I would be happy.”

“And I can settle that for you,” said a familiar voice.

They both turned quickly and Scott recognized the old gentleman whom he had met on the train. He was standing in the doorway and smiling pleasantly.

“I just came into the office,” he explained, “and could not help hearing what you said.”

The supervisor rose from his chair and greeted the newcomer cordially. “What brings you this far west, Mr. Barnes?” he asked.

“Same thing that’s troubling you now, I guess.”

“Mr. Barnes,” the supervisor said, introducing Scott, “I want you to meet one of our new patrolmen, Mr. Burton. Mr. Barnes,” he explained to Scott, “is one of the good sheep men.”

“I’ve met him before,” Mr. Barnes said, shaking hands. “Still looking at the country?”

“Yes,” Scott answered, “and I find it even more interesting here than it was from the car window.”

Mr. Barnes explained to the supervisor how he had come to be acquainted with Scott. “Now about this partnership business. I sold a bunch of sheep to those fellows and they have not finished paying for them. I heard of Jed’s death and thought that I better come down here and look into the matter. Can you tell me where I can find Dawson now? I should like to see him to-day if possible.”

“Have you heard of the mix up we have had here?” Mr. Ramsey asked.

“No, I only heard that Jed was drowned when the dam went out.”

Mr. Ramsey explained the situation. “Now you can see why we would like to have some proof that Dawson was really a partner of Jed’s.”

“And that, as I said before,” answered the old gentleman, “is something which I can prove very easily. I have letters admitting the partnership and notes signed by the two of them.”

“Then I guess that settles it. Call Benson, Burton, and I’ll finish the job.”

“You’ll have to call pretty loud,” the old gentleman laughed; “he got on the train when I got off.”

“Well, it’s good riddance to bad rubbish. That ought to finish up the whole gang. I certainly will be glad to get that district clean.”

“I’ll be glad to produce that evidence any time you want it and I’ll see you again before I leave town. Glad to see that you have made good,” he added to Scott as he went out.

“Now,” said Mr. Ramsey when they were alone once more, “that makes almost a perfect score for you in this business, and I don’t see any reason why I should not recommend you for Dawson’s job on the strength of it.”

“It is very kind of you to say so and I am certainly glad that you think that way about it, but I would like to wait a little longer till I really learn something about the sheep industry, and moreover I am afraid that it would not be fair to some of the other fellows who have worked just as hard and know a lot more about it than I do. Less than two weeks is rather a short time in which to earn a promotion. If I was altogether a stranger here I would like to try it and feel sure that I could get away with it, but Baxter and some of these other fellows know just how little I know and they would feel that I had been put over them unjustly. It seems to me that Baxter would make a good man for the job. I would like to serve under him as a patrolman for a few months and then if there is a ranger’s job open anywhere I would be glad to take it and no one would have any kick coming.”

“Some sense in that,” Mr. Ramsey agreed. “Of course Baxter is the man who would be directly in line for the appointment if you had not done such especially good work on this deal, and he probably would feel it if you were jumped in ahead of him. If you feel as you say I will recommend Baxter for the ranger’s job and send in a report of exceptional ability and extraordinary service for you to the district office, with the recommendation that you be given a ranger’s appointment after three months’ apprenticeship as a patrolman here on this forest.”

“That is exactly what I would like best,” Scott said earnestly.

“All right,” Mr. Ramsey said, “then that is what I shall do at once.”

When Scott rode out of town the next morning he was the happiest man in all the big Southwest. He was carrying a letter of appointment in his pocket for Baxter, he had the assurance that a special letter of recommendation for himself was already on the way to headquarters in Albuquerque, and he had the satisfaction of knowing that he had come West a tenderfoot and had made good; made good in a country where a man is judged on what he has done.