CHAPTER X
BUCK FINDS OUT SOMETHING
When the fact is chronicled that no less than three times in thesucceeding eight days Buck Stratton was strongly tempted to put an end tothe whole puzzling business by the simple expedient of declaring hisidentity and taking possession of the Shoe-Bar as his own, something maybe guessed of the ingenuity of Tex Lynch in making life unpleasant for thenew hand.
Buck told himself more than once that if he had really been a new hand andnothing more, he wouldn't have lasted forty-eight hours. Anyself-respecting cow-man would have promptly demanded his time and betakenhimself to another outfit, and Stratton sometimes wondered whether hismere acceptance of the persecution might not rouse the foreman's suspicionthat he had motives for staying which did not appear on the surface.
He had to admit that Lynch's whole course of action was rather cleverlyworked out. It consisted mainly in giving Stratton the most difficult andarduous work to do, and keeping him at it longer than anyone else, notonly on the round-up, but while driving the herd to Paloma Springs andright up to the point where the steers were loaded on cattle-cars and thejob was over.
That, broadly speaking, was the scheme; but there were delicate touches ofrefinement and ingenuity in the process which wrung from Stratton, in rareintervals when he was not too furious to judge calmly, a grudging measureof admiration for the wily foreman. Frequently, for instance, Strattonwould be assigned to night-herd duty with promise of relief at a certainhour. Almost always that relief failed to materialize, and Buck, unable toleave the herd, reeling with fatigue and cursing impotently, had to keepat it till daybreak. The erring puncher generally had an excellent excuse,which might have passed muster once, but which grew threadbare withrepetition.
Then, after an hour or two of sleep, the victim was more likely than notto be dragged out of bed and ordered to take the place of Peters, Kreeger,or one of the others, who had been sent to the ranch or elsewhere onso-called necessary business. More than once the others got started on ameal ahead of him, and what food remained was cold, unappetizing, andscant in quantity. There were other little things Lynch thought of fromtime to time to make Buck's life miserable, and he quite succeeded, thoughit must be said that Stratton's hard-won self-control prevented theforeman from enjoying the full measure of his triumph.
What chiefly influenced Buck in holding back his big card and scoringagainst them all was the feeling that Mary Thorne would be the one tosuffer most. He would be putting an abrupt finish to Lynch's game,whatever that was, but his action would also involve the girl in deep andbitter humiliation, if not something worse. Moreover, he was not quiteready to stop Lynch's scheming. He wanted to find out first what it wasall about, and he felt he had a better chance of success by continuing toplay his present part, hedged in and handicapped though he was, than bycoming out suddenly in his own proper person.
So he stuck it out to the end, successfully suppressing all evidence ofthe smouldering rage that grew steadily within him against the wholecrowd. Returning to the ranch for the first time in more than a week, hewent to bed directly after supper and slept like a log until breakfast.Rising, refreshed and fit, he decided that the time had come to abandonhis former haphazard methods of getting information, and to launch acampaign of active detective work without further delay.
Since the night of Bemis's accident, Buck had scarcely had a word with BudJessup, who he felt could give him some information, though he was notcounting much on the importance of what the youngster was likely to know.Through the day there was no chance of getting the fellow apart. But Buckkept his eyes and ears open, and at supper-time Bud's casual remark toLynch that he "s'posed he'd have to fix that busted saddle-girth before hehit the hay" did not escape him.
The meal over, Stratton left the kitchen and headed for the bunk-housewith a purposeful air, soon leaving the others well in the rear. Presentlyone of them snickered.
"Looks like the poor rube's goin' to tear off some more sleep," commentedKreeger in a suppressed tone, evidently not thinking Stratton was nearenough to hear.
But Buck's ears were sharp, and his lips twitched in a grim smile as hemoved steadily on, shoulders purposely sagging. When he had passed throughthe doorway his head went up abruptly and his whole manner changed.Darting to his bunk, he snatched the blankets out and unrolled them with ajerk. Scrambling his clothes and other belongings into a rough mound, heswiftly spread the blankets over them, patted down a place or two toincrease the likeness to a human body, dropped his hat on the floor besidethe bunk, and then made a lightning exit through a window at the rear.
It was all accomplished with such celerity that before the dawdlingpunchers had entered the bunk-house, Buck was out of sight among thebushes which thickly lined the creek. From here he had no difficulty inmaking his way unseen around to the back of the barns and otherout-buildings, one of which he entered through a rear door. A moment ortwo later he found Jessup, as he expected, squatting on the floor of theharness-room, busily mending his broken saddle-girth.
"Hello, Bud," he grinned, as the youngster looked up in surprise. "ThoughtI'd come up and have a chin with you."
"But how the deuce--I thought they--yuh--"
"You thought right," replied Stratton, as Jessup hesitated. "Tex and hisfriends have been sticking around pretty close for the past week or so,but I gave 'em the slip just now."
Briefly he explained what he had done, and then paused, eying the youngfellow speculatively.
"There's something queer going on here, old man," he began presently."You'll say it's none of my business, maybe, and I reckon it isn't. Butunless I've sized 'em up wrong, Lynch and his gang are a bunch of crooks,and I'm not the sort to sit back quietly and leave a lady like Miss Thorneto their mercy."
Jessup's eyes widened. "What do yuh know?" he demanded. "What have yuhfound out?"
Buck shrugged his shoulders. "Found out? Why, nothing, really. But I'veseen enough to know that bunch is up to some deviltry, and naturally theowner of the outfit is the one who'll suffer, in pocket, if not somethingworse. It's a dirty deal, taking advantage of a girl's ignorance andinexperience, as that gang sure is doing some way--specially a girl who'sas decent and white as she is. I thought maybe you and me might gettogether and work out something. You don't act like you were for 'em anymore than I am."
"I'll tell a man I ain't!" declared Jessup emphatically. "They're a rottenbunch. Yuh can go as far's you like, an' I'll stick with yuh. Have yuh gotanything on 'em?"
"Not exactly, but we may have if we put our heads together and talk itover." He glanced questioningly around the dusty room. "They'll likelyfind out the trick I played on 'em, and come snooping around here beforelong. Suppose we slip out and go down by the creek where we can talkwithout being interrupted."
Jessup agreed readily and followed Buck into the barn and out through theback door, where they sought a secluded spot down by the stream, wellshielded by bushes.
"You've been here longer than I have and noticed a lot more," Strattonremarked when they were settled. "I wish you'd tell me what you think thatbunch is up to. They haven't let me out of their sight for over a week.What's the idea, anyhow?"
"They don't want yuh should find out anythin'," returned Bud promptly.
"That's what I s'posed, but what's there to find out? That's what I can'tseem to get at. Bemis says they're in with the rustlers, but even he seemsto think there's something else in the wind besides that."
Jessup snorted contemptuously. "Bemis--huh! I'm through with him. He's aquitter. I was in chinnin' with him last night an' he's lost his nerve.Says he's through, an' is goin' to take his time the minute he's fit toback a horse. Still an' all," he added, forehead wrinkling thoughtfully,"he's right in a way. There is somethin' doin' beside rustling, but I'mhanged if I can find out what. The only thing I'm dead sure of is thatit's crooked. Look at the way they're tryin' to get rid of us--Rick an' mean' you. Whatever they're up to they want the ranch to themselves beforethey go any further. Now Ri
ck's out of the way, I s'pose I'll be next.They're tryin' their best to make me quit, but when they find out thatwon't work, I reckon they'll try somethin'--worse."
"Why don't Lynch just up an' fire you?" Buck asked curiously. "He'sforeman."
Bud's young jaw tightened stubbornly. "He can't get nothin' on me," hestated. "It's this way. When help begun to get shy a couple of monthsago--that's when he started his business of gittin' rid of the men one wayor another--Tex must of hinted around to Miss Mary that I was goin' toquit, for she up an' asked me one day if it was true, an' said she hopedme an' Rick wasn't goin' to leave like the rest of 'em."
He paused, a faint flush darkening his tan. "I dunno as you've noticedit," he went on, plucking a long spear of grass and twisting it betweenhis brown fingers, "but Miss Mary's got a way about her that--that sort ofgets a man. She's so awful young, an'--an'--earnest, an' though she don'tknow one thing hardly about ranchin', she's dead crazy about this place,an' mighty anxious to make it pay. When she asks yuh to do somethin', yuhjest natu'ally feel like yuh wanted to oblige. I felt like that, anyhow,an' I was hot under the collar at Tex for lyin' about me like he must ofdone. So I tells her straight off I wasn't thinkin' of anythin' of thesort. 'Fu'thermore,' I says, 'I'll stick to the job as long as yuh like ifyou'll do one thing.' She asks what's that, an' I told her that somefolks, namin' no names, was tryin' to make out to her I wasn't doin' mywork good, an' doin' their best to get me in bad.
"'Oh, but I think you're mistaken,' she says, catchin' on right away who Imeant. 'Tex wouldn't do anythin' like that. He needs help too bad, forone thing.'
"'Well,' I says, 'let it go at that. Only, if yuh hear anythin' againstme, I'd like for yuh not to take anybody else's word for it. It's got tobe proved I ain't capable, or I've done somethin' I oughta be fired for.An' if things gets so I got to go, I'll come to yuh an' ask for my timemyself. Fu'thermore, I'll get Rick to promise the same thing.'
"Well, to make a long story short, she said she'd do it, though I couldsee she was still thinkin' me mistaken about Tex doin' anythin' out of theway. He's a rotten skunk, but you'd better believe he don't let her seeit. He's got her so she believes every darn word he says is gospel."
He finished in an angry key. Stratton's face was thoughtful.
"How long has he been here?" he asked.
"Who? Tex? Oh, long before I come. The old man made him foreman prettynear a year ago in place of Bloss, who run the outfit for Stratton, thatfellow who was killed in the war that old Thorne bought the ranch offfrom."
"What sort of a man was this Thorne?" Buck presently inquired.
"Pretty decent, though kinda stand-offish with us fellows. He was awfulthick with Tex, though, an' mebbe that's the reason Miss Mary thinks somuch of him. She took his death mighty hard, believe me!"
With a mind groping after hidden clues, Stratton subconsciouslydisentangled the various "hes" and "hims" of Jessup's slightly involvedremark.
"Pop Daggett told me about his being thrown and breaking his neck," hesaid presently. "You were here then, weren't you? Was there anything queerabout it? I mean, like the two punchers who were killed later on?"
Jessup's eyes widened. "Queer?" he repeated. "Why, I--I never thoughtabout it that way. I wasn't around when it happened. Nobody was with himbut--but--Tex." He stared at Buck. "Yuh don't mean to say--"
"I don't say anything," returned Stratton, as he paused. "How can I,without knowing the facts? Was the horse a bad one?"
"He was new--jest been put in the _remuda_. I never saw him rid except byDoc Peters, who's a shark. I did notice, afterward, he was sorta mean,though I've seen worse. We was on the spring round-up, jest startin' tobrand over in the middle pasture." Bud spoke slowly with thoughtfullywrinkled brows. "It was right after dinner when the old man rode up onSocks, the horse he gen'ally used. He seemed pretty excited for him. Hegot hold of Tex right away, an' the two of them went off to one side an'chinned consid'able. Then they changed the saddle onto this here painthorse, Socks bein' sorta tuckered out, an' rode off together. It was nearthree hours before Tex came gallopin' back alone with word that the oldman's horse had stepped in a hole an' throwed him, breakin' his neck."
"Was that part of it true?" asked Buck, who had been listening intently.
"About his neck? Sure. They had Doc Blanchard over right away. He'd beenthrowed, all right, too, from the scratches on his face."
"Where did it happen?"
"Yuh got me. I wasn't one of the bunch that brought him in. I neverthought to ask afterwards, neither. It must of been somewhere up to thenorth end of the ranch, though, if they kep' on goin' the way theystarted."
For a moment or two Stratton sat silent, staring absently at the slopingbank below him. Was there anything back of the ranch-owner's tragic deathsave simple accident? The story was plausible enough. Holes wereplentiful, and it wouldn't be the first time a horse's stumble hadresulted fatally to the rider. On the other hand, it is quite possible, byan abrupt though seemingly accidental thrust or collision, to stir a horseof uncertain temper into sudden, vehement action. At length Buck sighedand abandoned his cogitations as fruitless. Short of a miracle, that phaseof the problem was never likely to be answered.
"I wonder what took him off like that?" he pondered aloud. "Have you anynotion? Is there anything particular up that way?"
"Why, no. Nobody hardly ever goes there. They call it the north pasture,but it's never used. There's nothin' there but sand an' cactus an' allthat; a goat couldn't hardly keep body an' soul together. Except oncelookin' for strays that got through the fence, I never set foot in itmyself."
Down in the shallow gully where they sat, the shadows were gathering,showing that dusk was rapidly approaching. With a shake of his head and amovement of his wide shoulders, Buck mentally dismissed that subject.
"It's getting dark," he said briskly. "We'll have to hustle, or there'llbe a searching party out after us. Have you noticed anything elseparticularly--about Lynch, I mean, or any of the others?"
"Nothin' I can make sense of," returned Jessup. "Tex has been off theranch a lot. Two or three times he's stayed away over night. It might ofbeen reg'lar business, I s'pose, but once Bill Harris, over to theRockin'-R, said he'd seen him in Tucson with some guys in a bigautomobile. That rustlin', of course, yuh know about. On the evidence, Idunno as yuh could swear he was in it, but it's a sure thing that anyforeman worth his salt would of stopped the business before now, or elseget the sheriff on the job if he couldn't handle it himself."
"That's one thing I've wondered," commented Buck. "Why doesn't he? What'shis excuse for holding off?"
Bud gave a short, brittle laugh. "I'll tell yuh. He says the sheriff's acrook! What do you know about that? I heard him tellin' it to Miss Marythe other day when he come in from Paloma about dinner-time. She wasaskin' him the same question, an' he up an' tells her it wouldn't be worthwhile; tells her the man is a half-breed an' always plays in with thegreasers, so he wouldn't be no use. I never met up with Jim Hardenberg,but he sure ain't a breed, an' he's got a darn good rep as sheriff." Hegroaned. "Wimmin sure is queer. Think of anybody believin' that sort ofrot."
"Did Lynch know you were listening?"
Jessup reddened a little. "No. They were talkin' in the big room, an' Iwas standin' to one side of the open window. I don't call it sneakin' totry an' get the drop on a coyote like him."
"I don't either," smiled Stratton, getting on his feet. The swift,southern darkness had fallen so quickly that they could barely see eachother's faces. "It's one of their own little tricks, and turn about isfair play. Our job, I reckon, is to keep our eyes open every minute andnot let anything slip. We'll find a way to get together again if anythingshould turn up. I'll be going back."
He turned away and took a few steps along the bank. Then all at once hestopped and walked back.
"Say, Bud, how big is that north pasture place you were telling about?" heasked. "I don't seem to remember going over it when I was--"
He broke off abruptly, a
nd a sudden flush burned into his cheeks at therealization that he had almost betrayed himself. Fortunately Jessup didnot seem to notice the slip.
"I don't know exactly," replied the youngster. "About two miles square,maybe. Why?"
"Oh, I just wondered," shrugged Stratton. "Well, so-long."
Again they parted, Bud returning to the harness-room, where he would haveto finish his work by lantern-light.
"Gee, but that was close!" murmured Bud, feeling his way through thedarkness. "Just about one more word and I'd have given away the showcompletely."
He paused under a cottonwood as a gleam of light from the open bunk-housedoor showed through the leaves.
"I wonder?" he mused thoughtfully.
A waste of sand, cactus, and scanty desert growth! In Arizona nothing ismore ordinary or commonplace, more utterly lacking in interest andsignificance. Yet Stratton's mind returned to it persistently as heconsidered one by one the scanty details of Jessup's brief narrative.
What was there about a spot like that to rouse excitement in the breast ofthe usually phlegmatic Andrew Thorne? Why had he been in such haste todrag Lynch thither, and what had passed between the two before the olderman came to his sudden and tragic end? Was it possible that somewherewithin that four square miles of desolate wilderness might lie the key tothe puzzling mystery Buck had set himself to solve?
"I wonder?" he murmured again, and leaving the margin of the creek, hemoved slowly toward the open bunk-house door.
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