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 Another Random Document on
Scribd Without Any Related Topics
 Scott shouted his warning to every man he saw as he galloped up
the main street and left a trail of confusion behind him. By the time
he reached the hotel the news was ahead of him. The supervisor ran
out of the hotel to meet him. A cowboy on a fresh horse galloped
away with the warning for the people below the town.
Scott threw himself from the saddle without counting on the
effect of the long, hard ride. His knees doubled under him like the
blades of a jackknife and sent him sprawling in the street. A dozen
eager hands helped him to his feet. He wriggled from them and
staggered over to examine Jed. The big black was tired and showed
it. His long barrel was heaving like a pair of bellows and his nostrils
were distended to big red circles, but he was holding his head well
up and he had his legs well under him. Scott threw his arms around
the horse’s neck and hugged him there before them all.
“Where did you come from?” Mr. Ramsey asked.
“Clear from the dam,” Scott said proudly, “and he ran every step
of the way.”
“Didn’t run down that cañon trail from the dam, did he?” one of
the men grinned.
“You bet he did,” Scott said. “He was running away with me then;
I did not get control of him till we passed the lookout station.”
It was perfectly natural in this country of horsemen that the first
interest should have been in the performance of the horse. There
was no actual danger there at the town. The valley was so wide and
level at this point and it was so far from the cañon that at the very
worst there would be only a few inches of water in the streets and a
few flooded cellars. The storekeepers were busy getting their
supplies from the cellars and off the main floors on to the shelves,
but they had all the help they could use and there were plenty of
people left over with nothing to do but watch and wait and talk.
Mr. Ramsey and Scott took Jed around to McGoorty’s stable and
gave him the best rub down that a horse ever had.
“When did the dam go out?” Mr. Ramsey asked.
 “I don’t know what time it was,” Scott said, “but it was just before
I turned the corner below the lookout station.”
“Did you see all the settlers?”
“Yes, every one from Bronson’s to town and they did not lose any
time in getting started.”
“How did it happen?” Mr. Ramsey asked quietly.
Scott discovered a note of censure in his voice and knew that he
was expected to give an account of himself.
“It’s a long story,” he replied thoughtfully. “Dawson, Jed Clark,
Dugan, myself and the worst thunder storm I have ever seen were
all more or less responsible, I think.”
At the mention of those names, Mr. Ramsey gave a start. “I
wonder how those men found out you were up there?”
“Your clerk, Benson, told them.”
“How do you know that?” the supervisor asked sharply.
“I heard Dawson ask him over the telephone and he answered
that he had tried to get the information to him for some time but
could not locate him.”
The hard steely look came suddenly into the supervisor’s eyes.
“That accounts for the way that a lot of information has been leaking
out of my office,” he remarked coldly.
“By the way,” Scott said, “Dawson is lying up in that little cabin at
the dam with a broken jaw. He is in pretty bad shape and some one
ought to go after him.”
“I don’t suppose you know how he was hurt?” Mr. Ramsey asked
with a quizzical look.
“Yes,” Scott grinned, “I think that I can explain it. Perhaps I had
better begin at the beginning and tell you the whole story,” he
added.
Mr. Ramsey was very anxious to get the story, but he saw that
Scott was so tired that he could scarcely keep his eyes open. “Better
go to bed now. We’ll go over the whole thing in the morning and
take a party up to rescue Dawson.”
 They had been talking in the stable. “Is Jed safe here?” he asked
anxiously.
“Yes,” the supervisor replied, “he’s perfectly safe. The town is in
no danger. There may be an inch or two of water in the streets in
the morning and it may not get here at all. This ground soaks up a
tremendous amount of water and the valley is so wide that it cannot
amount to much. I am afraid that it will wipe out some of those
small ranchers above here.”
Scott avoided the curious ones in the hotel lobby who were
anxious to hear his story and was soon asleep dreaming of rushing
waters and a runaway horse.
 CHAPTER XX

THE RESCUE PARTY

Scott was up early the next morning in spite of his strenuous

efforts of the day before and Mr. Ramsey met him at the breakfast
table.
“Wife’s away on a visit,” Mr. Ramsey explained, “so I thought I
would wait for you and get the story before you had worn it out
telling it to these curiosity mongers around here.”
Scott told him the whole tale, including Dugan’s visit to the cabin
the night before he left for the dam. The supervisor listened silently
with frowning face. “Sort of a close corporation,” he remarked when
Scott had finished. “It is certainly remarkable the way you have
rounded the whole gang up. It has not been all luck as you say; you
have shown very good judgment and done some hard work on it.
That ought to put a stop to the monkey business around here for a
while. We’ll just keep all this information about the graft in the
service to ourselves for a while. We are well rid of Dugan and Jed
and it will not be much of a trick to dispose of Benson. I think I shall
let him stay in the office till it comes time for an investigation and
then spring it on him.
“Dawson is the only one that worries me. I believe there is a lot
of truth in the story he told you up at the dam. He has made us a
mighty good man with the single exception of this dirty business
deal in this district of yours, and he certainly has plenty of ability. I
have never heard of a smoother scheme than the one he worked.
He is more than half right in the argument he put up to you, too. If
he really wants to put up a fight, as he probably will, it will be
mighty hard to prove the charges against him; especially now that
Jed and Dugan are out of it. I am not all sure we can nail him.”
“Yes,” Scott admitted, “I was counting on Jed pretty strong. It will
not be so easy without him and yet I think that I can make out a
fairly strong case.”
“Think you are not too stiff to ride back up there to the dam to-
day?” Mr. Ramsey asked.
“I can make it all right if Jed can travel,” Scott said.
“Oh, he’s all right. I was out there to see him this morning and he
has forgotten all about it. He is certainly a wonderful horse. Well,
then, we’ll take a couple of the boys from here, including a doctor,
and start in about half an hour.”
The supervisor went to make his preparations for the trip and
Scott hurried out to the stable to see Jed. As Mr. Ramsey had said,
he seemed to have forgotten all about it and was all ready to start
out again. Scott rubbed him down thoroughly and rode out to meet
the supervisor. Jed was a little stiff at first but soon limbered up and
insisted on leading the procession.
The mighty flood which had roared so furiously in the cañon up
on the mountain had not reached the town at all. It had overflowed
the river channel for a short distance but had already receded within
its banks. The first ranch above the town had not been touched; the
next two or three had been flooded but the water had not gotten
into the houses and no damage had been done. In the case of the
last two up near the mouth of the cañon it was a different story.
Everything movable had been washed away and Bronson’s house
had been carried from the foundation and was lying on its side far
out in the meadow. But no lives had been lost and all the stock had
been saved. The settlers considered themselves lucky to have
escaped as they did and were very grateful to Scott for the ample
warning he had given them.
As they proceeded up the valley the ravages of the flood became
more evident. There was a considerable volume of water still coming
down the stream bed but the flood was over. It was not till they
reached the turn in the valley below the lookout station that the full
fury of the rushing water was apparent. The violence of the torrent
had carried the water high up on the slope toward the lookout tower
and had gouged an enormous pit out of the side of the mountain.
From there on the whole cañon was a total wreck. Not only were
all traces of the trail wiped out but the gorge was swept clean. Trees
had been torn up by the roots and carried away. What little soil there
had been between the rocks was gone and the horses scrambled
over slippery beds of smooth, bare rock. An eighth of a mile below
the dam they found great chunks of the mason work which had
been carried there on the crest of the flood. They began to worry
about the safety of the cabin.
The meadow looked more familiar than anything else they had
seen. The deep sod alone of all the vegetation in the path of the
water had held its own. It was scattered with great chunks of mason
work and bowlders and the grass was badly clawed by the wash of
the water but it was green and triumphant.
As they rounded the shoulder of rock which hid the view of the
dam they heaved a sigh of relief. The west end of the dam, with the
little cabin almost on the jagged end of it, was safe. The central
portion of the dam was gone completely. Only the encircling crags
and mountain peaks looked serenely down on the wreck unchanged.
They might wear away eventually but they could withstand many a
worse storm than that without showing it.
They hurried to the cabin in search of Dawson. The silence of the
place seemed ominous. They found Dawson but he was unconscious
and delirious. The suffering and exposure of the day before, the
fright of Jed’s visit to the cabin and the terrible strain of lying
helpless on the very verge of that crumbling dam had been too
much for him. In addition to all that the doctor found that he had
received a severe blow on the back of the head when he fell. The
doctor decided that it would be better to keep him there at the cabin
than to try to take him down that slippery trail on a litter and
volunteered to stay there and nurse him. It looked as though it
would be a close pinch even at that.
 Scott explained the situation which had led up to the breaking of
the dam and they started back for Benny’s. They spread out across
the cañon as far as the water had reached and searched every rock
and cranny. It was over a quarter of a mile below the dam that they
found what they were looking for. High up on the side of the cañon,
at the highest point reached by the water, they found the bodies of
Dugan and Jed Clark almost locked in each other’s arms. It looked as
though they had discovered the horrible mistake they had made and
were trying to make up for it. The men made litters to carry the
bodies down to Benny’s where they planned to spend the night.
Scott and Mr. Ramsey rode on back to town.
Mr. Ramsey was worried. He wanted to have the investigation and
clean out the remnants of the whole ring. This could not be done
very well till Dawson was able to be present. It would not be fair to
him to have the trial without giving him a chance to defend himself.
Moreover, the evidence against him was almost wholly circumstantial
and the supervisor doubted very much whether they would be able
to convict him on it if he wanted to put up a fight. Knowing Dawson
as well as he did he had no doubt about his putting up a fight as
long as there was a ghost of a show to win. He had covered up his
tracks so carefully that it looked like a very hard thing to prove
anything on him. Scott still thought that he could put up a strong
case but he did not have any absolute proof.
So the two rode along together in comparative silence, each one
worrying over the same problem in his own way. When they rode
out of the cañon into the main valley they discovered quite a crowd
around the Bronson home. The ranchers from all along the valley
had assembled there to try to help Mr. Bronson put his house back
on the foundation. These stout-hearted fellows were not in the least
discouraged by the catastrophe which had overtaken them. Bronson
had suffered more than the others and for that reason they had
chosen to help him first. The others had already moved their families
back into their homes and the wives were busy cleaning up for a
fresh start.
 They stopped to speak to the men, and, just as they were
leaving, Mr. Bronson led the supervisor aside. “Are you going to be in
your office to-morrow morning, Mr. Ramsey?”
“Yes, I expect to be.”
“Me and the rest of the boys have something we want to talk over
with you, if you’ll have the time.”
“Come right ahead,” Mr. Ramsey urged. He was always glad of an
opportunity to coöperate with the settlers in any way and was very
popular with them on that account.
“Better come over first thing in the morning,” Mr. Ramsey called to
Scott as they parted in town, “I want to go over your records and
the evidence you have collected. Maybe we can get that out of the
way before those ranchers come in.”
Scott was kept busy all evening telling the story of the bursting of
the dam. Even then he did not satisfy them all and there were so
many others waiting to hear it in the morning that he was glad of
the excuse to go to the office early. He found the supervisor already
there getting together the evidence which he had on hand.
“Looks pretty good, Burton,” he said as Scott came in, “but I can’t
find a thing to prove certainly that Dawson was Jed’s partner or was
even vitally implicated in this scullduggery in any way. There is no
question about it in my mind now but there is no proof which would
stand in court.”
“I am afraid there isn’t,” Scott admitted. “I was in hopes that Jed
would turn against him, but now that he is gone I can’t think of any
way to prove it.”
Just then there was a tramping of many feet in the hall and the
delegation of small ranchers filed into the office. Wren, the big gruff-
mannered man who had threatened to thrash Scott for refusing the
invitation to dinner when he stopped there to issue a free use
permit, was the spokesman.
“I’m not going to take up much of your time,” he said in his usual
rough way. “I expect you are sort of busy trying to fix up this mess
and have mighty little time to talk about anything else. We don’t like
the idea much of jumping on a man when he is down, but we figure
that if we are going to get square with Dawson at all, now is our
chance. Moreover, we want to see that justice is done to a friend of
ours.”
At the mention of getting square with Dawson, Mr. Ramsey
pricked up his ears. Possibly there was a chance here to get some
evidence from a source on which they had not counted. “If you
gentlemen have any charges to make against Dawson now is
certainly the time to make them,” he said.
“Well, for the past five years he has been charging us for our free
use permits.”
“Charging you for them?” the supervisor exclaimed in amazement.
“How’s that?”
“Don’t know how to make it any plainer,” Wren answered.
“Whenever we took out a free use permit we just had to pay so
much for it.”
“Why didn’t you report it? You knew perfectly well that you did
not have to pay for it.”
“Hicks thought he knew that one year and all his sheep died.
‘Loco weed,’ Dawson said.”
“And do you mean to say that this thing has been going on
regularly on this forest for five years?”
“We never knew what it was to get a free use permit for nothing
till this young man here came around this spring. And that’s why we
are here. We heard that Dawson was trying to put the blame for
those extras getting into the forest on him and we are not going to
stand for that.”
“Have you ever paid money directly to Dawson for this?” Mr.
Ramsey asked.
“Not for that, no. That was always paid to the guard or
patrolman, but,” he hesitated a moment and then continued, “I don’t
suppose it is much to our credit, but I might as well own up to it if it
will help to clean things up; I’ve paid graft money to him direct for
the privilege of running extras on the forest in addition to my free
use permit. It was our only chance to get anything for the money he
gouged out of us on the permits,” he explained.
“How about the rest of you?” the supervisor asked.
“All guilty,” responded one of the men.
“Would you be willing to testify to that in court?” the supervisor
continued.
“Sure we would. That’s what we came for.”
“Good,” Mr. Ramsey exclaimed, “that will be exactly the proof I
am looking for to convict Dawson. I felt sure that he was guilty but
could not prove it. I am not fixed to take down that evidence now
but I’ll come around to see you and get it as soon as I can. I
certainly appreciate your help. I don’t blame you any for running in
your extras under those conditions and I’ll forget it.”
“Well then,” Wren said simply, “I think we’ll be going. We have
considerable work to do cleaning up around home. Before we go we
want to thank this gentleman for the warning he gave us. We
treated him pretty shabbily when he first came and now he has paid
us back by saving all our stock for us. We feel pretty mean about it
and are not ashamed to tell him so.”
“Seems to me you have a little more than squared yourselves
now,” Scott said. “I feel as though I was considerably in your debt.”
They all shook hands with Scott cordially and filed out of the
office again.
“Things are coming our way, Burton,” Mr. Ramsey smiled. “If I
could prove that Dawson was Jed Clark’s partner now and mixed up
with that big deal I would be happy.”
“And I can settle that for you,” said a familiar voice.
They both turned quickly and Scott recognized the old gentleman
whom he had met on the train. He was standing in the doorway and
smiling pleasantly.
“I just came into the office,” he explained, “and could not help
hearing what you said.”
 The supervisor rose from his chair and greeted the newcomer
cordially. “What brings you this far west, Mr. Barnes?” he asked.
“Same thing that’s troubling you now, I guess.”
“Mr. Barnes,” the supervisor said, introducing Scott, “I want you to
meet one of our new patrolmen, Mr. Burton. Mr. Barnes,” he
explained to Scott, “is one of the good sheep men.”
“I’ve met him before,” Mr. Barnes said, shaking hands. “Still
looking at the country?”
“Yes,” Scott answered, “and I find it even more interesting here
than it was from the car window.”
Mr. Barnes explained to the supervisor how he had come to be
acquainted with Scott. “Now about this partnership business. I sold a
bunch of sheep to those fellows and they have not finished paying
for them. I heard of Jed’s death and thought that I better come
down here and look into the matter. Can you tell me where I can
find Dawson now? I should like to see him to-day if possible.”
“Have you heard of the mix up we have had here?” Mr. Ramsey
asked.
“No, I only heard that Jed was drowned when the dam went out.”
Mr. Ramsey explained the situation. “Now you can see why we
would like to have some proof that Dawson was really a partner of
Jed’s.”
“And that, as I said before,” answered the old gentleman, “is
something which I can prove very easily. I have letters admitting the
partnership and notes signed by the two of them.”
“Then I guess that settles it. Call Benson, Burton, and I’ll finish
the job.”
“You’ll have to call pretty loud,” the old gentleman laughed; “he
got on the train when I got off.”
“Well, it’s good riddance to bad rubbish. That ought to finish up
the whole gang. I certainly will be glad to get that district clean.”
“I’ll be glad to produce that evidence any time you want it and I’ll
see you again before I leave town. Glad to see that you have made
good,” he added to Scott as he went out.
“Now,” said Mr. Ramsey when they were alone once more, “that
makes almost a perfect score for you in this business, and I don’t
see any reason why I should not recommend you for Dawson’s job
on the strength of it.”
“It is very kind of you to say so and I am certainly glad that you
think that way about it, but I would like to wait a little longer till I
really learn something about the sheep industry, and moreover I am
afraid that it would not be fair to some of the other fellows who have
worked just as hard and know a lot more about it than I do. Less
than two weeks is rather a short time in which to earn a promotion.
If I was altogether a stranger here I would like to try it and feel sure
that I could get away with it, but Baxter and some of these other
fellows know just how little I know and they would feel that I had
been put over them unjustly. It seems to me that Baxter would make
a good man for the job. I would like to serve under him as a
patrolman for a few months and then if there is a ranger’s job open
anywhere I would be glad to take it and no one would have any kick
coming.”
“Some sense in that,” Mr. Ramsey agreed. “Of course Baxter is the
man who would be directly in line for the appointment if you had not
done such especially good work on this deal, and he probably would
feel it if you were jumped in ahead of him. If you feel as you say I
will recommend Baxter for the ranger’s job and send in a report of
exceptional ability and extraordinary service for you to the district
office, with the recommendation that you be given a ranger’s
appointment after three months’ apprenticeship as a patrolman here
on this forest.”
“That is exactly what I would like best,” Scott said earnestly.
“All right,” Mr. Ramsey said, “then that is what I shall do at once.”

When Scott rode out of town the next morning he was the
happiest man in all the big Southwest. He was carrying a letter of
appointment in his pocket for Baxter, he had the assurance that a
special letter of recommendation for himself was already on the way
to headquarters in Albuquerque, and he had the satisfaction of
knowing that he had come West a tenderfoot and had made good;
made good in a country where a man is judged on what he has
done.

THE END
*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCOTT BURTON ON
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