CHAPTER IX
REVELATIONS
It was the Mexican woman, Maria. As Buck recognized her he rose quietlyand moved swiftly toward the door. But if he had hoped to catch herunawares, he was disappointed. He had scarcely taken a step when, throughthe telltale mirror, he saw her straighten like a flash and move back withcatlike swiftness toward the passage leading to the kitchen. When hereached the living-room she stood there calm and casual, with quite theair of one entering for the first time.
"Mees T'orne, she ask me see if Reek, he wan' somet'ing," she explained,with a flash of her white teeth.
"He doesn't," returned Buck shortly, eyeing the woman intently. "If hedoes, he'll ring the bell."
"Ver' good," she nodded. "I leave the door open to 'ear."
With a nod and another smile she departed, and Buck heard her moving awayalong the passage. For a moment he was tempted to close and lock the door.Then he realized that even if she dared return to her eavesdropping, hewould have ample warning by keeping an eye on the mirror, and so returnedto Bemis.
"I hate that woman," said Rick, when informed of her departure. "She'salways snoopin' around, an' so is her greaser husband. Down at thebunk-house it's the same way, with Slim, an' Flint Kreeger an' the rest. Itell yuh, I'm dead sick of being spied on, an' plotted against, an' neverknowin' when yuh may get a knife in the back, or stop a bullet. I hate toleave Bud, but he's so plumb set on--"
"But what's it all about?" put in Buck impatiently. "Can't you tell afellow, or don't you know?"
Bemis flushed slightly at his tone. "I can tell yuh this much," heretorted. "Tex don't want them rustlers caught. He throws a clever bluff,an' he's pulled the wool over Miss Mary's eyes, but for all that, he'sworkin' on their side. What kind of a foreman is it who'll lose over athousand head without stoppin' the stealin'? It ain't lack of brains,neither; Tex has got them a-plenty."
"But Miss Thorne--" protested Stratton, half-incredulously.
"I tell yuh, he's got her buffaloed. She won't believe a word against him.He was here in her dad's time, an' he's played his cards mighty slicksince then. She's told yuh he can't get men, mebbe? All rot, of course. Hecould get plenty of hands, but he don't want 'em. What's more, he's donehis best to get rid of me an' Bud, an' would of long ago, only Miss Marywon't let him fire us."
"But what in thunder's his object?"
"So's to have the place to himself, I reckon. He an' those greasers in thekitchen, and the rest of the bunch, are as thick as thieves."
"You mean he'd find it easier to get away with cattle if there wasn'tanybody around to keep tabs on him?"
Bemis hesitated. "I--I'm not sure," he replied slowly. "Partly that,mebbe, but there's somethin' else. I've overheard things now an' then Icouldn't make head or tail of, but they're up to somethin'--Yuh ain'tgoin', are yuh?"
Buck had risen. "Got to," he shrugged. "Miss Thorne's waiting for me to godown to the south pasture."
Bemis raised up on his pillows. "Well, listen; keep what I said under yorehat, will yuh?"
"Sure," nodded Stratton reassuringly. "You needn't worry about that.Anything else you want before I go?"
"Yes. Jest reach me my six-gun outer the holster there in the chair. IfI'm goin' to be left alone with that greaser, Pedro, I'd feel morecomfortable, someway, with that under my pillow."
Buck did as he requested and then departed. Something else! That was thevery feeling which had assailed him vaguely at times, that some deviltrywhich he couldn't understand was going on beneath the surface. As he madefor the corral, a sudden possibility flashed into his mind. With her titleso precarious, might not Mary Thorne be at the bottom of a systematicattempt to loot the Shoe-Bar of its movable value against the time ofdiscovery? But when he met her face to face the idea vanished and he evenfelt ashamed of having considered it for a moment. Whatever crookednesswas going on, this sweet-faced, clear-eyed girl was much more likely to bea victim than one of the perpetrators. The feeling was vastly strengthenedwhen he had saddled up and they rode off together.
"There's something I've been meaning to--to tell you," the girl saidsuddenly, breaking a brief silence.
Buck glanced at her to find her eyes fixed on the ears of her horse and afaint flush staining her cheeks.
"That room--" she went on determinedly, but with an evident effort. "Aman's room-- You must have thought it strange. Indeed, I saw you thoughtit strange--"
Again she paused, and in his turn Buck felt a sudden rush ofembarrassment.
"I didn't mean to--" he began awkwardly. "It just seemed funny to find aregular man's room in a household of women. I suppose it was your--yourfather's," he added.
"No, it wasn't," she returned briefly. She glanced at him for an instantand then looked away again. "You probably don't know the history of theShoe-Bar," she went on more firmly. "Two years ago it was bought by ayoung man named Stratton. I never met him, but he was a businessacquaintance of my father's and naturally I heard a good deal of him fromtime to time. He was a ranchman all his life and very keen about it, andthe moment he saw the Shoe-Bar he fell in love with it. But the war came,and he had scarcely taken title to the place before he went off andenlisted. Just before he sailed for France he sold the ranch to my father,with the understanding that if he came back safely, Dad would turn it overto him again. He felt, I suppose, how uncertain it all was and that moneyin the bank would be easier for his--his heirs, than property."
She paused for an instant, her lips pressed tightly together. "He nevercame back," she went on in a lower, slightly unsteady voice. "He--gave uphis life for those of us who stayed behind. After a little we left Chicagoand came here. I loved the place at once, and I've gone on caring for itincreasingly ever since. But back of everything there's always been asense of the tragedy, the injustice of it all. They never even found hisbody. He was just--missing. And yet, when I came into that room, with histhings about just as he had left them when he went away, he seemed so_real_,--I--I couldn't touch it. Somehow, it was all that was left of him.And even though I'd never seen him, I felt as if I wanted to keep it thatway always in memory of a--a brave soldier, and a--man."
Her low voice ceased. With face averted, she stared in silence across thebrown, scorched prairie. Stratton, his eyes fixed straight ahead, and hischeeks tinged with unwonted color, found it quite impossible to speak, andfor a space the stillness was broken only by the creak of saddle-leatherand the dull thud of horses' hoofs.
"It's mighty fine of you to feel like that," he said at length. "I'm sorryif I gave you the idea I--I was--curious."
"But you would be, naturally. You see, the other boys all know." Sheturned her head and looked at him. "I think we're all curious at timesabout things which really don't concern us. I've even wondered once ortwice about you. You know you don't talk like the regulationcow-puncher--quite."
Stratton laughed. "Oh, but I am," he assured her. "I suppose the warrubbed off some of the accents, and of course I had a pretty goodeducation to start with. But I'm too keen about the country and the lifeto ever want to do anything else."
Her face glowed. "It is wonderful," she agreed. "When I think of the yearsI've wasted in cities! I couldn't ever go back. Even with all theworries, this is a thousand times better. Ah! There they are ahead.They're turning the herd into this pasture, you see."
Half a mile or more to the southward a spreading dust-cloud hugged theearth, through which, indistinctly, Stratton could make out the movingfigures of men and cattle. The two spurred forward, reaching the wideopening in the fence ahead of the vanguard of steers. Passing through,they circled to the right to avoid turning back any of the cattle, andjoined the sweating, hard-worked cow-punchers.
As they rode up together, Buck found Lynch's eyes fixed on him with anexpression of angry surprise, which was suppressed with evidentdifficulty.
"How'd yuh get back so quick?" he inquired curtly.
"Nothing more to keep me," shrugged Stratton. "I waited for the doctor tolook Rick over, and then thought I'd co
me out and see if you needed me."
"Huh! Well, since you're here, yuh might as well whirl in. Get over on thefar side of the herd an' help Flint. Don't let any of 'em break away, butdon't crowd 'em too much."
As Buck rode off he heard Miss Thorne ask if there wasn't something shecould do. Lynch's reply was indistinct, but the tone of his voice,deferential, yet with a faint undercurrent of honey-sweetness, irritatedhim inexplicably. With a scowl, he spurred forward, exchanged a briefgreeting with Bud Jessup as he passed, and finally joined Kreeger, who washaving considerable difficulty in keeping the herd together at thatpoint.
During the succeeding two hours or so, Buck forgot his irritation in theinterest and excitement of the work. Strenuous as it was, he found adistinct pleasure in the discovery that two years' absence from the rangehad not lessened his ability to hold his own. His horse was well trained,and he thoroughly enjoyed the frequent sharp dashes after some refractorysteer, who stubbornly opposed being driven. Before the last animal hadpassed through the fence-gap into the further pasture, he was drenchedfrom head to foot with perspiration and his muscles ached from theunaccustomed labor, but all that was discounted by the satisfaction ofdoing his chosen work again, and doing it well.
Then, in the lull which followed, his thoughts returned to Miss Thorne andhe wondered whether there would be any chance for further conversationwith her on the way back to the ranch-house? The question was quicklyanswered in a manner he did not in the least enjoy. After givinginstructions about nailing up the fence, Tex Lynch joined the girl, whosat her horse at a little distance, and the two rode off together.
For a moment or two Stratton's frowning glance followed them. Then of asudden he realized that Slim McCabe's shrewd eyes were fixed curiously onhim, and the discovery brought him abruptly to his senses. For a space hehad forgotten what his position was at the Shoe-Bar. He must keep a betterguard over himself, or he would certainly arouse suspicion. Averting hiseyes, but still continuing to frown a little as if lack of tobacco wasresponsible for his annoyance, he searched through his pockets.
"Got the makin's?" he asked McCabe. "Darned if I haven't left mine in thebunk-house."
Slim readily produced a sack, and when Buck had rolled a cigarette, hereturned it with a jesting remark, and swung himself rather stiffly out ofhis saddle.
"Haven't any hammer, but I can help tighten wires," he commented.
He had intended joining Bud Jessup and trying while helping him to get achance to discuss some of the things he had learned from Bemis. Butsomehow he found himself working beside McCabe, and when the fence hadbeen put up again and they started home, it was Slim who rode beside him,chatting volubly and amusingly, but sticking like a leach.
It "gave one to think," Stratton decided grimly, remembering theexpressive French phrase he had heard so often overseas. He could notquite make up his mind whether the action was deliberate or the result ofaccident, but after supper he had no doubt whatever.
During the meal Lynch showed himself in quite a new light. He chatted andjoked with a careless good humor which was a revelation to Stratton, whomhe treated with special favor. Afterward he asked Buck if he didn't wantto look his patient over, and accompanied him into Bemis's room, remainingwhile the wound was inspected and freshly dressed. Later, in thebunk-house, he announced that they would start a round-up next morning topick out some three-year-olds for shipment.
"Got a rush order for twelve hundred head," he explained. "We'll all haveto get busy early except Bud, who'll stay here to look after things. Ifany of yuh have saddles or anythin' else to look after, yuh'd better do itto-night, so's we can get goin' by daybreak."
Like a flash Stratton realized the other's game, and his eyes narrowedever so little. So that was it! By this most simple of expedients, he wasto be kept away from the ranch-house and incidentally from anycommunication with Bemis or Bud, or Mary Thorne, unless accompanied byLynch or one of his satellites. And the worst of it was he was quitehelpless. He was merely a common, ordinary hand, and at the first sign ofdisobedience, or even evasion of orders, Lynch would have a perfectly goodexcuse to discharge him--an excuse he was doubtless itching to create.
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