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<h2>CHAPTER XXVI THE TRAGEDY</h2> <div class="blockquot">—signs, which were as clear to the Indian as the words on a printed page. </div> AT first, when his mind was able to grasp the terrible facts of the tragedy, Hugh Edwards nearly lost control of himself. But Natachee steadied him. The Indian assured him with such confidence that Marta was in no immediate danger that he took heart again. “The girl is worth too much money to Sonora Jack for him to harm her,” continued Natachee. “He has carried her away, yes, but remember we know that he expects somehow to make a fortune through her. You may depend upon it he will take every care to keep her safe.” “But how can you know?” said Hugh, wondering at the certainty of the red man’s words. The Indian answered quickly: “Because the outlaw, even in his haste, was careful to take the girl’s things with her.” He led his companion into the girl’s room. “Look—this closet is nearly empty. The drawers of this dresser are all pulled out and there is almost nothing left in them. Her toilet articles even are not here. There are no blankets left on this bed. I tell you there is much{257} for you to hope for yet, my friend, if you can make yourself as cool and self-controlled as I know you are brave.” When they had returned to the room where the old prospector lay, the Indian, after bending over the unconscious man for a moment, turned again to Hugh; slowly he said: “There is no night so dark but there is a little light for those whose eyes are good. Always one can see the mountain peaks against the sky. The Mexican there will not talk, and I have not yet looked about outside the house, but some things are very clear. This happened last night, because there are still a few coals among the ashes in the kitchen stove and the clock was wound as usual. Sonora Jack will go to Mexico—he does not dare remain in the United States where there is a reward out for him. At the best possible time, it will take him two days to reach the line. He will not travel with his woman prisoner by daylight. That he expects to lay up during the day is shown by his taking every particle of food he could find in the house. It is not likely that he got started before midnight. With the girl’s clothing, the bedding, the provisions, and his own things, he must have taken a pack animal. Good! I, Natachee, will follow a trail like that as fast as a horse can run.” Hugh Edwards put his hand on the Indian’s arm. “We can get horses and men at Wheeler’s,” he said quickly. “It ought not to take an hour to{258} raise a posse. We can telephone the sheriff from the ranch. Come on.” He started toward the door but the calm voice of the Indian checked him. “You forget. This is no time for you to meet the sheriff. No one but Doctor Burton and his mother must know of this, until you are safe out of the country.” “I am a fool, Natachee, I forgot. Tell me what to do.” For a moment the Indian again bent over the unconscious man on the bed, then he said: “We cannot leave Thad like this. He must have a doctor. I am going to bring the Burtons. While I am away, you must not leave the old man’s side. He might regain consciousness for a moment and you must be ready to hear anything that he can tell you. And keep your eye on that Mexican snake out there in the other room. He is the kind that may try something desperate to keep Thad from ever speaking again, for the old prospector is the only one who can tell us exactly what happened here last night. Do you understand?” “I do,” returned Hugh. “You can trust me.” A moment later the Indian was running up the cañon trail toward the little white house on the mountain side. Two hours later Natachee returned with Saint Jimmy and Mother Burton, who were riding and carrying on their horses a supply of food. While Doctor Burton with his mother and Hugh{259} were doing all that could be done for Thad and for the wounded Mexican, Natachee, with the swiftness and certainty of a well-bred hunting dog, examined every foot of the ground in the vicinity of the house, the barn and the corral. When the Indian was satisfied that he could learn nothing more, he climbed swiftly up the steep side of the cañon to the spot where he and Hugh had left the four burros with their heavy loads of gold. Edwards was just coming from the house when Natachee, leading the burros, arrived at the gate. Together the two men took the animals with their precious burdens down into the creek bottom and across to the Pardners’ little mine, where they hurriedly buried the sacks of gold in the dump at the mouth of the tunnel. And then—not far from the house, between two wide-spreading mesquite trees, where a pair of cardinals had their nest and mocking birds loved to swing and sing in the moonlight, where anemone and sweet peas and evening primroses never failed to bloom, the white man and the Indian dug a grave. There was no time to secure a coffin. They dared not make any public announcement now, nor wait for any formal ceremony. With tender hands they wrapped the old-timer in his blankets and gently laid him in his resting place. And who shall say that Mother Burton’s simple prayer was not as potent before that One who judges not by pomp and ceremony, as any ritual ordained by church or creed? And who shall say that the old{260} prospector himself would not have wished it to be done just that way? As Saint Jimmy said gently: “After all, it is not the first time that Bob has slept on the ground.” While Mrs. Burton was preparing a hurried dinner, Natachee told Hugh and Saint Jimmy the story of the tragedy, as he had read it from the tracks about the premises—signs which were as clear to the Indian as the words on a printed page. “There were three of them,” said Natachee. “They came from down the cañon. It was after everybody in the house was sleeping, because Sonora Jack would not start from where he was hiding in his camp until after dark. The third man was the Lizard. They left their horses and a pack mule at the gate. The marks of the Lizard’s feet, where he dismounted, are very clear. Jack and the Mexican went to the corner of the house there at the back. They crouched close to the ground against the wall so they would not be seen easily in the dark, and waited, while the Lizard went to the barn and frightened the pinto so that the noise would waken the Pardners and cause one of them to come out to see what was the matter with the horse. “Bob came out by the kitchen door and started for the barn. He did not see the men who were behind the corner of the house. When the old prospector was halfway to the barn, Jack and the Mexican ran upon him from behind. Bob fought them but he had no chance. Perhaps he called to{261} Thad. I think not, however, from what happened in the house. Either Jack or the Mexican killed him with a knife, because the Lizard would not have had time to come from the barn. “Then the Lizard went to stand guard at the front of the house to prevent Marta from escaping by that door, and to give warning in case any one should come. His tracks are there by the porch. The two outlaws went into the house by the kitchen door. Thad probably had also been awakened by the noise at the barn, and while waiting for Bob to come back must have heard Jack and the Mexican. He was trying to prevent them from entering Marta’s room when he shot the Mexican, and Sonora Jack struck him down. “The Lizard, I think, is with Jack and the girl. He seems to have turned his own horse loose and taken the Mexican’s. Marta is riding her pinto. They have taken the pack mule.” As Natachee finished, Mrs. Burton called them to dinner. While they were eating, the Indian asked the Doctor about Thad’s condition. “I cannot say yet, as to his complete recovery,” returned Saint Jimmy, “but I feel reasonably sure that he will pull through all right. I am quite certain that he will regain consciousness for a time at least. But the Mexican has no chance. He will live for several days, perhaps, but the end is certain.” “Good!” said Natachee. “You and Mrs. Burton will stay here until Edwards and I return, will you?{262}” “Indeed we will,” returned Mother Burton quickly. “Good!” said the Indian again. “We should be back the morning of the fourth day.” He looked at Doctor Burton inquiringly. “We will save time getting started if we take your horses. The Pardners’ horses are out on the range somewhere—and to go to Wheeler’s for help would mean the sheriff.” “They are yours. Take them, of course,” said Doctor Burton and his mother in a breath. “We will take a little food for to-night and to-morrow,” continued the Indian, “and a canteen of water. With a little grain for the horses and the Pardners’ guns, that will be all, except”—he smiled grimly—“my bow and arrows.{263}” <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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