Chapter Six

Lightning Returns

Slim waited impatiently as the rider on Lightning pressed on up the valley toward them. At three hundred yards his finger pressed gently on the trigger of his Winchester.

“Better wait a bit longer,” counseled Chuck. “You might miss at this range.”

Slim snorted. “I’ve got him lined between my sights right now. That guy is one horse thief that isn’t going to get away.”

But Slim took Chuck’s advice and the tension of his finger on the trigger lessened. The target loomed larger, for the man riding Lightning was heavy and of large stature.

Rider and horse drew nearer, the second horse trailing Lightning by a few feet. It was then that Slim noticed that the rifle of the rider on Lightning was in the scabbard on the saddle of the second horse. If he shot now, it would be at a man armed at the most with only a six shooter and one unable to answer him on even terms. Slim knew that the horse thief didn’t deserve such consideration, but in spite of his rage at losing Lightning he couldn’t bring himself to shoot a man in cold blood.

He dropped his rifle in disgust. “That fellow hasn’t anything within reach but a six gun. I can’t take a shot at him at this distance.”

“What you going to do?” queried Chuck.

“Wait until he comes up close and then step out and hail him. If he goes for his six gun, we’ll be on equal terms.”

“I don’t know about that. Seems to me you ought to be kind of handy with that six shooter of yours. You’ve got long arms and long hands and your gun is hung just right for fast action.”

“I can make it talk,” agreed Slim, his narrowed eyes watching the approach of the rider, now almost within hailing distance. If he continued on the trail, he would pass within three rods of the two cowboys.

Chuck looked down at his aching feet.

“Gosh, but it’s going to seem good to swing back into a saddle. I’ve walked more today than in years.”

“You’ll be riding again in about five minutes, cowboy,” said Slim. “This fellow is coming right into the center of a real unpleasant surprise party.”

Slim shifted from his crouching position behind the fallen tree and made sure that his gun was free in the holster. There was a good chance that he would need it in a hurry.

The rider on Lightning was within a hundred yards of them when Slim stood up and waited quietly beside the trail. The horseman came on swiftly, unaware of the incensed cowboys who were awaiting him.

Suddenly Slim shifted his plans. He knew a bloodless but not altogether painless way to capture the rider. Placing two fingers between his lips, he sent a shrill, penetrating whistle ringing down the valley.

Lightning stopped suddenly, poised like a statue. Again the sharp whistle came from Slim’s lips while Chuck watched in open-mouthed astonishment.

Lightning whirled into action. The big sorrel left the ground in a wild, twisting buck that caught her rider unawares. Lightning almost swapped ends and came down in a rocking, jarring crash that sent the unknown rider sprawling through the air to land with a thud at one side of the trail.

Then the sorrel raced toward Slim, whinnying in sheer delight at discovering her master again.

Chuck ran down the trail to the side of the fallen rider while Slim swung onto Lightning. The sorrel fairly danced with pleasure over the reunion and Slim reached down and stroked the beautiful mane with gentle hands.

“Gosh, Lightning, old girl, it’s good to see you again. Darn me! I thought last night it was all over for us when I heard those bushwhackers riding away. From now on no one rides you but me. Understand?”

Lightning threw up her head in a quick, angry manner that indicated anyone except Slim would have a hard time mounting her.

From down the trail came a sharp cry from Chuck.

“Hey, Slim. Come here and meet your horse thief.”

The Flying Arrow cowboy swung Lightning about and trotted down the trail. Chuck was bending over the fallen man, who was now showing some signs of a returning interest in life.

“Think you can recognize him?” asked Chuck as Slim slipped out of the saddle.

“Why it’s old Bill Needham!” exclaimed Slim. “What under the sun could he have been doing on Lightning?”

Old Bill, tall and powerful of frame, a typical cattleman of the old school, managed to raise his bruised body upon one elbow as he squinted angrily at the two cowboys looking down at him.

“What’s the idea of pulling a stunt like this on me?” he demanded. Then, recognizing Slim as the mists cleared from his ancient eyes, he added. “My gosh, Slim. I was just riding up trail looking for you when that horse of yours set off a stick of dynamite under my saddle. How did it all happen?”

“That’s what we want to know,” said Chuck. “There’s got to be a lot of explaining about some things that took place last night just this side of the divide.”

“Well, well, Chuck. I figured I’d find you somewhere along the trail, but hadn’t counted on you and Slim being together. Know each other pretty well?”

“We ought to. We’ve done better than twenty miles of hoofing it along this trail since sunup. My feet are just about killing me.” Chuck sat down and dragged off his boots, massaging the bottoms of his burning feet with his hands.

“Let’s hear the story, boys,” said Old Bill. “Tell me what happened last night and I’ll tell you how I happened to get hold of Lightning.”

Slim looked at Chuck.

“Everything happened this side of the divide and you were the first over the summit. Start the ball rolling.”

“There’s plenty to tell,” began Chuck. “I’d been taking it fairly easy, figuring on plenty of time to get to the foot of the trail. A little more than a half hour of easy riding this side of the crest of the trail a couple of hombres cut loose on me with rifles.”

“Didn’t they give you any warning?” asked the old cattleman.

“Not a peep until the Winchesters started blazing away. The first thing I knew my horse caved in and pitched me off. I managed to get my rifle and ducked into a side canyon, but it was a trap--no way out. The other two had plenty of shelter behind boulders in that dry wash and they blazed away every time I moved. It was getting along toward dark and looking plenty tough for yours truly when someone else voted himself a hand in the party and cut loose on the bushwhackers from behind.”

Old Bill chuckled. “It isn’t hard to guess who you’re talking about.”

“Well, that changed everything. Slim hit one of them in the elbow and they decided they’d had enough, but on the way out they circled around and stole Slim’s horse.”

“So you started hoofing it down the trail.”

“You mean we started limping down the trail,” said Slim. “These boots of mine were never made for walking and I don’t know when I’ve suffered such agony.”

“That goes for me, too,” said Chuck.

“How about you, Slim? Let’s hear your side of the story,” Old Bill urged.

“There isn’t a whole lot more to tell. I had made camp this side of the summit and was just sitting down to supper when the firing started. I could tell it was two against one so I got my rifle and did a little scouting. When I got down in the wash, I could see they had Chuck penned up and were shooting to kill. I challenged them and they let me have a little lead, so I cut loose. They got away and stole Lightning and I’ve been kind of miserable until you showed up.”

“And say, you don’t know how near death you were a few minutes ago,” Chuck said. “Slim had you lined between his sights and was all set to let you have it. Then he decided he couldn’t kill a man in cold blood.”

“So he just whistled and had Lightning dynamite me right out of the saddle,” chuckled Old Bill. “Maybe the shooting wouldn’t have been so bad after all.” He rubbed his bruised body with exploring fingers. “Danged wonder every bone in my body wasn’t broken.”

“You take your falls hard,” admitted Chuck.

“I want to know where you found Lightning,” said Slim.

“The bushwhackers rode past my camp this afternoon and I recognized Lightning in a minute. I knew you would be riding Lightning on a trip like this and I didn’t waste time nor lead. They were leading Lightning and when I started shooting, she broke away. After what you did to them last night, those fellows didn’t have much stomach for another fight and they took out full gallop for the Creeping Shadows valley. It wasn’t much trouble to round up Lightning for she seemed to remember me a bit from my visits to the Flying Arrow. But boy, when you whistled she forgot all about me. I never saw a horse go up so quick or come down so hard. Don’t ever do that again to me.”

“I never will,” promised Slim, “but it’s a good trick to keep in the bag. If I’d been real smart last night I think I could have stopped Lightning by whistling to her, but I wasn’t thinking very straight. When I heard the bushwhackers galloping off on her I just saw red in about five different shades.”

“Don’t blame you a bit, son,” said Old Bill. “Now let’s get down to the business of making camp and getting some grub. No use of our going to the bottom of the trail tonight. We’ll make camp here and I’ll tell you what I’ve got up my sleeve.”

Slim looked toward Chuck and jerked a thumb.

“What about him?”

“He’s in this thing as deep as you are. Just have a little patience. We’ll eat, then talk. A man can’t think well on an empty stomach.”