grub. I wasn't planning on company."
"Let me do it," Sally suggested. "I can cook."
"She surely can!" Jack said enthusiastically. "She cooked for us all the time."
A horse's hoof clicked on stone, and instantly Trent doused the light. "Down!" he said sharply. "On the floor!"
They could hear the horses coming closer. From the sound, Trent could tell there were at least two and they had split apart to provide less of a target.
"Halloo, the house! Step out here!"
"Who's asking? And what do you want that can't be done better by daylight?"
"It doesn't make a damn bit of difference who it is! We're speakin' for King Bill Hale! You've got until noon tomorrow to get out. You're camping on Hale range!" There was a moment's silence. "We're moving everybody off!"
"Except those you're murdering, is that it?" Trent commented. "You trot right back and tell Hale we're staying. This land was filed on, all fitting and proper, and Hale is bucking the United States government on this, and anybody who helps is a party to it."
He glimpsed the shine of a rifle barrel. "Don't try it, Dunn! If you weren't such a damned fool, you'd know you were outlined against the sky. A blind man could put a hole in you."
Dunn cursed bitterly. "You'll see, Trent! We'll be back!"
"Tell Hale to send me enough men to start a graveyard. And, Dunn, you be sure and come, d' you hear?"
When they had gone, Trent turned to Sally and Jack. "Time for bed. Sally, you take my room, and Jack and me, we'll bed down out here."
"But I don't want to take your bed," she protested.
"Go ahead. You will need all the sleep you can get. This trouble has just started, and it will be a long time before it's over. Get some sleep, now."
"I'm not afraid." Sally looked at him with large, serious eyes. "You'll take care of us, I know."
He stood for a long moment, staring after her. It was a strange feeling to be trusted so implicitly. The childish sincerity of the girl stirred him as nothing ever had. He recognized the feeling for what it was-- the need within himself to protect and care for something beyond himself. It was that, in part, that had led him into so many fights that were not his; and yet, was not the cause of human freedom and liberty every man's trust?
There was something else, too, that was not generally recognized--that just as the maternal instinct is the strongest a woman has, just so the instinct to protect is the strongest for a man.
Jack was going about the business of making a bed on the floor as though he had spent his life at it. He was pleased with this chance to show some skill, some ability to accomplish.
Trent checked his guns as he had checked them every night of his life, and for a minute after the checking, he held them, thinking. Then he hung the gun belts on the peg once more. The time was not yet.
Chapter 2
The early-morning sun was just turning the dew-drenched grass into settings for diamonds when Trent was out of his pallet and roping horses. Yet, early as it was, when he returned to the cabin the fire was lit and Sally was preparing breakfast. She smiled bravely, but he could see she had been crying.
Jack, only now beginning to understand what had happened, was showing his grief through his anger, but was very quiet, moving about the business of taking up the pallets and stowing them away. Trent was less worried about Jack then about Sally, for he knew her story.
According to what Dick Moffit told him, he had found Sally Crane hiding in the bushes some six years before, after he and those with him had come upon a few burned-out wagons. Her family had been murdered by a party of renegades posing as Indians, and she had been picking wildflowers when the attack came, suddenly and without warning.
Dick Moffit and his wife made a home for her, and when Dick's wife had died a year before, Sally had quietly taken over the cooking and housekeeping, which she had only shared before. She had shown herself a cool, competent girl, but two such
"Let me do it," Sally suggested. "I can cook."
"She surely can!" Jack said enthusiastically. "She cooked for us all the time."
A horse's hoof clicked on stone, and instantly Trent doused the light. "Down!" he said sharply. "On the floor!"
They could hear the horses coming closer. From the sound, Trent could tell there were at least two and they had split apart to provide less of a target.
"Halloo, the house! Step out here!"
"Who's asking? And what do you want that can't be done better by daylight?"
"It doesn't make a damn bit of difference who it is! We're speakin' for King Bill Hale! You've got until noon tomorrow to get out. You're camping on Hale range!" There was a moment's silence. "We're moving everybody off!"
"Except those you're murdering, is that it?" Trent commented. "You trot right back and tell Hale we're staying. This land was filed on, all fitting and proper, and Hale is bucking the United States government on this, and anybody who helps is a party to it."
He glimpsed the shine of a rifle barrel. "Don't try it, Dunn! If you weren't such a damned fool, you'd know you were outlined against the sky. A blind man could put a hole in you."
Dunn cursed bitterly. "You'll see, Trent! We'll be back!"
"Tell Hale to send me enough men to start a graveyard. And, Dunn, you be sure and come, d' you hear?"
When they had gone, Trent turned to Sally and Jack. "Time for bed. Sally, you take my room, and Jack and me, we'll bed down out here."
"But I don't want to take your bed," she protested.
"Go ahead. You will need all the sleep you can get. This trouble has just started, and it will be a long time before it's over. Get some sleep, now."
"I'm not afraid." Sally looked at him with large, serious eyes. "You'll take care of us, I know."
He stood for a long moment, staring after her. It was a strange feeling to be trusted so implicitly. The childish sincerity of the girl stirred him as nothing ever had. He recognized the feeling for what it was-- the need within himself to protect and care for something beyond himself. It was that, in part, that had led him into so many fights that were not his; and yet, was not the cause of human freedom and liberty every man's trust?
There was something else, too, that was not generally recognized--that just as the maternal instinct is the strongest a woman has, just so the instinct to protect is the strongest for a man.
Jack was going about the business of making a bed on the floor as though he had spent his life at it. He was pleased with this chance to show some skill, some ability to accomplish.
Trent checked his guns as he had checked them every night of his life, and for a minute after the checking, he held them, thinking. Then he hung the gun belts on the peg once more. The time was not yet.
Chapter 2
The early-morning sun was just turning the dew-drenched grass into settings for diamonds when Trent was out of his pallet and roping horses. Yet, early as it was, when he returned to the cabin the fire was lit and Sally was preparing breakfast. She smiled bravely, but he could see she had been crying.
Jack, only now beginning to understand what had happened, was showing his grief through his anger, but was very quiet, moving about the business of taking up the pallets and stowing them away. Trent was less worried about Jack then about Sally, for he knew her story.
According to what Dick Moffit told him, he had found Sally Crane hiding in the bushes some six years before, after he and those with him had come upon a few burned-out wagons. Her family had been murdered by a party of renegades posing as Indians, and she had been picking wildflowers when the attack came, suddenly and without warning.
Dick Moffit and his wife made a home for her, and when Dick's wife had died a year before, Sally had quietly taken over the cooking and housekeeping, which she had only shared before. She had shown herself a cool, competent girl, but two such
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