Collection 1989 - Long Ride Home (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Page A

looked down at Rafe in the darkness, his eyes keen. “Just what is Ruth Manning to you?” he demanded.
    Clip thought he detected the ghost of a smile. “Does it matter? The girl’s in danger!”
    â€œRight!” Clip swung his horse. As he did so he heard someone shout, and glancing back, he saw a crowd of men spew from the doors of the High-Stake.
    The big black stretched his legs and sprang away into the night, swinging around the town to the trail in tireless, space-eating strides.
    CHAPTER 4
    Gun Law Comes to Basin City
    T HE HUGE PINNACLES of rock known as the Organ loomed ahead. For years during his wanderings, Clip Haynes had heard of them. Some queer volcanic effect had shot these hollow spires up into the sky, leaving them thin to varying degrees, and under the blows of a stick or rock they gave forth a deep, resonant sound. Around them lay rugged, broken country.
    For a half hour he cut back and forth through the rocks before he located the box canyon. And then it was the horse that found the narrow thread of trail winding among the boulders. A few minutes of riding, and he sighted the dim light which came from a cabin window.
    He dismounted and slipped a gun into his hand. Then he walked boldly forward, and threw the door open.
    A startled Mexican jerked up from his seat on a box and dropped a hand for his gun, but at the sight of Clip, he reached for air. “Don’t shoot, senor!” he gasped. “
Por dios
, don’t shoot!”
    Clip stepped in and swung his back to the wall. “Where’s the girl?” he snapped.
    â€œThe señorita, she here. The Barlows, they go.”
    Clip stepped quickly across the room and spun the Mexican around. Picking up a handful of loose rope, he bound the man hand and foot. Then stooping, he untied Ruth.
    â€œThanks,” she said, rubbing her wrists. “I was beginning to think—”
    â€œNo!” he exclaimed dryly.
    Her face stiffened abruptly. Clip grinned at her. “You had that coming, lady. Let’s get out of here!”
    Suddenly, he stopped. In the corner was a heap of sacks taken from the stage earlier that day. Pausing, he jerked the tie string. The sack toppled slowly over. And from its mouth spilled nothing more than a thin stream of sand!
    â€œWhy—!” Ruth gasped. “Why, where’s the gold?”
    â€œI’ll show you later!” Clip said grimly. “I suspected this!”
    There was no talk on the ride homeward. Clip rode at Ruth’s side, seemingly intent only on reaching town. It was almost daylight when they rode swiftly up the dusty street.
    â€œShould you do this?” she protested. “Aren’t they looking for you?”
    â€œIf they are, they better not find me!” he snapped. “I’m doing some looking myself. You ride to your brother, quick, and tell him about that sand. Tell him to bring Buff McCarty to the High-Stake just as quick as he can make it!”
    His eyes narrowed. “And you,” he went on grimly, “will have a chance to drop by the Sluice Box and see your precious lover, who didn’t have guts enough to come after you himself!”
    Her eyes widened with amazement, but before she could speak, he wheeled his horse and rode rapidly back up the street and dismounted. Then he walked into the Sluice Box, his face dark with rage.
    Rafe Landon stood just inside the door. He walked up to Clip, smiling gravely. “I heard what you said to Ruth,” he said. “I want to tell you just two things, Haynes. The first has to do with my want of guts—as you put it. Once I offered you my hand, and you refused it. Will you take it now?”
    Something in his manner seemed strange. Clip glanced down at the gloved hand. Then he took it. Amazement came into his eyes.
    â€œYes,” Rafe said, “you’re right. It’s iron. The blacksmith in Goldfield made it, several years ago. I lost both my hands after a