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The Lone Star Ranger-Part19_Zane Gray(1872-1939)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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be walking with both arms raised, hands high. He slowed his

stride.



"Does Burt Jones live here?" he asked, in a low, hurried voice.

"I reckon. I'm Burt. What can I do for you?" replied Jones.



The stranger peered around, stealthily came closer, still with

his hands up.



"It is known that Buck Duane is here. Captain MacNelly's

camping on the river just out of town. He sends word to Duane



to come out there after dark."

The stranger wheeled and departed as swiftly and strangely as



he had come.

"Bust me! Duane, whatever do you make of that?" exclaimed



Jones.

"A new one on me," replied Duane, thoughtfully.



"First fool thing I ever heard of MacNelly doing. Can't make

head nor tails of it. I'd have said offhand that MacNelly



wouldn't double-cross anybody. He struck me as a square man,

sand all through. But, hell! he must mean treachery. I can't



see anything else in that deal."

"Maybe the Captain wants to give me a fair chance to surrender



without bloodshed," observed Duane. "Pretty decent of him, if

he meant that."



"He INVITES YOU out to his camp AFTER DARK. Something strange

about this, Duane. But MacNelly's a new man out here. He does



some queer things. Perhaps he's getting a swelled head. Well,

whatever his intentions, his presence around Mercer is enough



for us. Duane, you hit the road and put some miles between you

the amiable Captain before daylight. To-morrow I'll go out



there and ask him what in the devil he meant."

"That messenger he sent--he was a ranger," said Duane.



"Sure he was, and a nervy one! It must have taken sand to come

bracing you that way. Duane, the fellow didn't pack a gun. I'll



swear to that. Pretty odd, this trick. But you can't trust it.

Hit the road, Duane."



A little later a black horse with muffled hoofs, bearing a

tall, dark rider who peered keenly into every shadow, trotted



down a pasture lane back of Jones's house, turned into the

road, and then, breaking into swifter gait, rapidly left Mercer



behind.

Fifteen or twenty miles out Duane drew rein in a forest of



mesquite, dismounted, and searched about for a glade with a

little grass. Here he staked his horse on a long lariat; and,



using his saddle for a pillow, his saddle-blanket for covering,

he went to sleep.



Next morning he was off again, working south. During the next

few days he paid brief visits to several villages that lay in



his path. And in each some one particular friend had a piece of

news to impart that made Duane profoundlythoughtful. A ranger



had made a quiet, unobtrusive call upon these friends and left

this message, "Tell Buck Duane to ride into Captain MacNelly's



camp some time after night."

Duane concluded, and his friends all agreed with him, that the



new ranger's main purpose in the Nueces country was to capture

or kill Buck Duane, and that this message was simply an



original and striking ruse, the daring of which might appeal to

certain outlaws.



But it did not appeal to Duane. His curiosity was aroused; it

did not, however, tempt him to any foolhardy act. He turned



southwest and rode a hundred miles until he again reached the

sparsely settled country. Here he heard no more of rangers. It



was a barren region he had never but once ridden through, and

that ride had cost him dear. He had been compelled to shoot his



way out. Outlaws were not in accord with the few ranchers and

their cowboys who ranged there. He learned that both outlaws



and Mexican raiders had long been at bitter enmity with these

ranchers. Being unfamiliar with roads and trails, Duane had



pushed on into the heart of this district, when all the time he

really believed he was traveling around it. A rifle-shot from a



ranch-house, a deliberate attempt to kill him because he was an

unknown rider in those parts, discovered to Duane his mistake;



and a hard ride to get away persuaded him to return to his old

methods of hiding by day and traveling by night.



He got into rough country, rode for three days without covering

much ground, but believed that he was getting on safer






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