against the man who had wounded her? Even though she disapproved of what they had done, she would fly to their defense when attacked.
From the dark gash of the ravine they came at last to the opening where Meldrum lived.
The young woman turned to Beaudry. "Give me your revolver belt."
He hesitated. "What are you going to do?"
Plainly she would have liked to rebuff him, but just now he had the whip hand. Her sullen answer came slowly.
"I'm going to tell my brother that father needs him. When he has gone, I'll see what I can do."
"And what am I to do while you are inside?"
"Whatever you like." She held out her hand for his belt.
Not at all willingly he unbuckled it. "You'll be careful," he urged. "Meldrum is a bad man. Don't try any tricks with him."
"He knows better than to touch a hair of my head," she assured him with proud carelessness. Then, "Hide in those trees," she ordered.
Ned Rutherford answered her knock on the door of the jacal. At sight of her he exclaimed:—
"What are you doing here, Boots? At this time of night? Anything wrong?"
"Dad needs you, Ned. It seems there is trouble about that young man Street. Jess Tighe has sworn to kill him and dad won't have it. There's trouble in the air. You're to come straight home."
"Why didn't he send Jeff?"
"He needed him. You're to keep on down through the cañon to the mouth. Jess has the mouth of the arroyo guarded to head off Street."
"But—what's broke? Why should Tighe be so keen on bumping off this pink-ear when dad says no?"
"They've found out who he is. It seems Street is an alias. He is really Royal Beaudry, the son of the man who used to be sheriff of the county, the one who crippled Jess the day he was killed."
The slim youth in the high-heeled boots whistled. He understood now why Tighe dared to defy his father.
"All right, Boots. With you in a minute, soon as I get my hat and let Dan know."
"No. I'm to stay here till dad sends for me. He doesn't want me near the trouble."
"You mean you're to stay at Rothgerber's."
"No, here. Tighe may attack Rothgerber's any time to get this young Beaudry. I heard shooting as I came up."
"But—you can't stay here. What's dad thinking about?" he frowned.
"If you mean because of Mr. Dingwell, I know all about that."
"Who told you?" he demanded.
"Dad can't keep secrets from me. There's no use his trying."
"Hm! I notice he loaded us with a heap of instructions not to let you know anything. He'd better learn to padlock his own tongue."
"Isn't there a room where I can sleep here?" Beulah asked.
"There's a cot in the back room," he admitted sulkily. "But you can't—"
"That's another thing," she broke in. "Dad doesn't want Dan left alone with Mr. Dingwell."
"Who's that out there, Ned?" growled a heavy voice from inside.
Beulah followed her brother into the hut. Two men stared at her in amazement. One sat on the bed with a leg tied to the post. The other was at the table playing solitaire, a revolver lying beside the cards. The card-player was Meldrum. He jumped up with an oath.
"Goddlemighty! What's she doing here?" he demanded in his hoarse raucous bass.
"That's her business and mine," Rutherford answered haughtily.
"It's mine too, by God! My neck's in the noose, ain't it?" screamed the former convict. "Has everybody in the park got to know we're hiding Dingwell here? Better put it in the paper. Better—"
"Enough of that, Dan. Dad is running this show. Obey orders, and that lets you out," retorted the young man curtly. "You've met my sister, haven't you, Dave?"
The cattleman smiled at the girl. "Sure. We had a little ride together not long since. I owe you a new raincoat. Don't I, Miss Beulah?"
She blushed a little. "No, you don't, Mr. Dingwell. The mud came off after it dried."
"That's good." Dave turned to Rutherford. The little devils of mischief were in his eyes. "Chet Fox was with us, but he didn't stay—had an engagement, he said. He was in some hurry to keep it, too."
But though he chatted with them gayly, the ranchman's mind was subconsciously busy with the new factor that had entered into the problem of his captivity. Why had Rutherford allowed her to come? He could not understand that. Every added one who knew that he was here increased the danger to his abductors. He knew how fond the owner of the horse ranch was of this girl. It was odd that he had let her become incriminated in his lawless plans. Somehow that did not seem like Hal Rutherford. One point that stood out like the Map of Texas brand was the effect of her coming upon his chances. To secure their safety neither Tighe nor Meldrum would stick at murder. Ten minutes ago the prudent way out of the difficulty would have been for them to arrange his death by accident. Now this was no longer feasible. When the Rutherford girl had stepped into the conspiracy, it became one of finesse and not bloodshed. Was this the reason that her father had sent her—to stay the hands of his associates already reaching toward the prisoner? There was no question that Meldrum's finger had been itching on the trigger of his revolver for a week. One of the young Rutherfords had been beside him day and night to restrain the man.
Dave was due for another surprise when Ned presently departed after a whispered conference with Meldrum and left his sister in the hut. Evidently something important was taking place in another part of the park. Had it to do with young Beaudry?
From his reflections the cattleman came to an alert attention. Miss Rutherford was giving Meldrum instructions to arrange her bed in the back room.
The convict hesitated. "I can't leave him here alone with you," he remonstrated surlily.
"Why can't you?" demanded Beulah incisively. "He's tied to the bedpost and I have my gun. I can shoot as straight as you can. What harm can he do me in five minutes? Don't be an idiot, Dan."
Meldrum, grumbling, passed into the back room.
In an instant Beulah was at the table, had drawn out a drawer, and had seized a carving knife. She turned on Dingwell, eyes flashing.
"If I help you to escape, will you swear to say nothing that will hurt my father or anybody else in the park?" she demanded in a low voice.
"Yes—if young Beaudry has not been hurt."
"You swear it."
"Yes."
She tossed him the knife, and moved swiftly back to the place where she had been standing. "Whatever my
