The Monmouth inquirer., 1920-04-29
CHAPTER XVI.
Might Riders.

which she had lived for so long it
seemed, though count showed that 1t
began yesterday morning.
She moved restlessly on her pillow
as the weird pageantly of subcon-
sciousness sped before her ever watch
full mind. Always the dreams were
troubled-and filled not only with
trouble for her, but for all those
about her, all those who were dearest.
She saw her father tortured; she
saw Hardy struggling in a quagmiTe;
She Then she was sitting up in bed.
1t came again, the knocking on the
door which had awakened her. She
slipped from the covers, drew dark
dressing gown about her, thrust fest
into slippers, and went quickly to an
swer!
"Yesl What is it," she said,
standing close to the door, but not
opening it.
"I want to talk to your father"
"Father isn't here" she whispered.
isn't here! Where is he?"
Hardy fairly shouted the words and
unconsciously grasped the door-knob.
81 don't know" the girl answered,
protesting at the accusing note in his
tone. II don't know, Ellis. He went
away yesterday and left no word"
She heard the doctor mutter de,
spairing word under his breath.
Cant help you?" she queried. !,
"Help!" he said, and he could not
cover the bitterness in his voice.
Help! Yes, you could, but it's too
late, Ruth; too late!"
Frightened, she turned the key and
opened the door a scant space SO she
could look at him.
"Oh, you've made mess Of things"
he said slowly and tensely. Il know
what happened today; l know how
you-you betrayed my trust!
mo, no. Don't try to break in now.
It's too late for anything but action
and your father isn't here!
"You sent Sears on his way this
morning; at dawn he is to meet Lon
Gilbright at Crooked Ford, and Lon
is bringing in money for payment.
That's why am here for your father
II trusted you when l told you
was Sears physician; / trusted you
as | never had trusted a woman. told
you what l have told no one else. And
you or yours spied on me and be-
trayed me. Oh, Ruth! Ruthl"
He backed away from her quickly
and, speechless, she saw him run TO-
ward his waiting horse.
The girl closed the door slowly,
moving as though in a dream.
Her ears would not lie to her, would
they? Hardy would not have come In
the night to tell her falsehoods? She
was really awake?
A dry sob wrung her and she stag
gered back into the room, putting
palms over her eyes to shut out those
quick flashes of binding light which
played all about her-in the total
darkness of the room.
ooh, Ellis, Ellis! What have l
done to you?" she moaned. What
have / done? At dawn-at Crooked
Ford-and father"
She drove back the sobs and stood
crouched, staring into the blank about
her, striving to concentrate.
Some one must know!" she whis-
pered harshly. "Some one knows!
He always tells
"Walter Kennedy must know!"
She commenced to cry softly and
dropped on her knees beside the bed.
She prayed aloud, the great sobs
breaking the sentences into incoher-
ent phrases; prayed for she knew not
what-for aid for an unnamed cause.
And when she ceased uttering words,
she remained kneeling for many min
utes, cold horror stilling her body
when it should have been conserving
the fleeting moments.
Then she dressed feyerishly. with
hands that trembled frantically, that
would scarcely make buttons secure in
their places, and with quick, sharp
catchings of the breath she ran from
the house toward the stable, calling to
the pinto as she hurried into the
night.
on to the northward ran three
roads, spreading fanwise, The one
which stabbed the prairie and reached
out under the north star was that
which led to Crooked Ford, and some
where along it Bart Sears skulked and
waited. watching all that passed; to
the right went the path which crossed
Rock Greek six miles below Crooked
Ford; to the left went the branch that
would lead traveller to Holly Ranch.
where Bob Mitchell pretended and
connfved, waiting, dreading.
Along the road which veered to the
right went Little Foot, talking to the
noble sorrel, low over the saddle.
riding with all the inherited knowl-
edge of horsemanship that would help
the big beast carry him well and
swiftly on that long. lone night ride.
The horse intellect seemed to sense
the necessity of the occasion, for his
stride was longer his breathing loud
er than normal.
The lights of the Indian camp fell
away behind them, and the Indian let