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Updated: May 15, 2025
Her swift glance showed the faces of Nels and Monty and Nick to be brooding, cold, watchful. She wondered why Stewart did not look toward Bonita. He, too, was now dark-faced, cool, quiet, with something ominous about him. "Hawe, I'll submit to arrest without any fuss," he said, slowly, "if you'll take the ropes off that girl." "Nope," replied the sheriff. "She got away from me onct.
I saw the girl ride that horse down the street to disappear in the darkness." While Madeline spoke another change appeared to be working in the man Hawe. He was not long disconcerted, but his discomfiture wore to a sullen fury, and his sharp features fixed in an expression of craft. "Thet's mighty interestin', Miss Hammond, 'most as interestin' as a story-book," he said.
I reckon Pat could hev kept on foolin' me an' the boys, but as soon as Stewart showed up on the scene wal, either Pat got to blunderin' or else we-all shed our blinders. Anyway, the facts stood plain. Pat Hawe wasn't lookin' hard fer any bandits; he wasn't daid set huntin' anythin', unless it was trouble fer Stewart.
Stillwell saw Madeline, and, throwing up his hands, roared to be heard. This quieted the gesticulating, quarreling men. "Wal now, Pat Hawe, what's drivin' you like a locoed steer on the rampage?" demanded Stillwell. "Keep in the traces, Bill," replied Hawe. "You savvy what I come fer. I've been bidin' my time. But I'm ready now. I'm hyar to arrest a criminal."
From the look of him it was natural for Madeline to expect them to give way before him, which they did, even Hawe and his attendants sullenly retreating. Don Carlos got up to confront Stewart. The prostrate vaquero stirred and moaned, but did not rise. "You needn't jibber Spanish to me," said Stewart. "You can talk American, and you can understand American.
Madeline guessed that Stewart referred to the Mexican girl Bonita. "No. But I met" Madeline did not catch the name "an' he was wild. He was with a forest-ranger. An' they said Pat Hawe had trailed her an' was takin' her down under arrest." Stewart muttered deep under his breath, evidently cursing. "Wonder why he didn't come on up here?" he queried, presently. "He can see a trail."
When Stewart left you an hour or so ago he follered me direct to where me an' the boys was tryin' to keep Pat Hawe from tearin' the ranch to pieces. At that we was helpin' Pat all we could to find them bandits. But when Stewart got there he made a difference. Pat was nasty before, but seein' Stewart made him wuss. I reckon Gene to Pat is the same as red to a Greaser bull.
Nope, Stewart, thet's jest my way with hoss-thieves, raiders, Greasers, murderers, an' sich. See hyar, you Sneed, git off an' put the irons on this man." The guerrilla called Sneed slid off his horse and began to fumble in his saddle-bags. "You see, Bill," went on Hawe, "I swore in a new depooty fer this particular job. Sneed is some handy. He rounded up thet little Mexican cat fer me."
"Wal, what we're up against is this: that gang of bandits Pat Hawe was chasin' they're hidin' in the house!" "In the house?" echoed Madeline, aghast. "Miss Majesty, it's the amazin' truth, an' shamed indeed am I to admit it. Stewart why, he's wild with rage to think it could hev happened.
"I'm an officer, an' I don't fight outlaws an' sich except when I hev to make arrests." "Officer! You're a disgrace to the county. If you ever did get irons on me you'd take me some place out of sight, shoot me, and then swear you killed me in self-defense. It wouldn't be the first time you pulled that trick, Pat Hawe." "Ho, ho!" laughed Hawe, derisively. Then he started toward the horses.
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