CHAPTER XVI
THE UNEXPECTED
More than once during the following few days, Stratton was forced to agrudging admiration, of Tex Lynch's cleverness. Even knowing what he did,he failed to detect the slightest sign in either the foreman or his menthat they were waiting expectantly for something to happen. The onlysignificant feature was their marked avoidance of the middle pasture. Thismight readily be accounted for by the fact that the work now lay on theother side of the outfit, but Buck was convinced that their real purposewas to allow the blackleg scourge to gain as great a hold as possible onShoe-Bar cattle before its discovery.
The cold-blooded brutality of that quiescence made Stratton furious, butit also brought home more effectually than ever the nature of the men hehad to deal with. They were evidently the sort to stop at nothing, andBuck had moments of wondering whether or not he was proceeding in theright way to uncover the mystery of their motive.
So far he had really accomplished very little. The unabated watchfulnessof the crowd so hedged in and hampered him that it was quite impossible todo any extended investigating. He still had the power of ending the wholeaffair at any moment and clearing the ranch of the entire gang. But asidefrom his unwillingness to humiliate Mary Thorne, he realized that thiswould not necessarily accomplish what he wanted.
"It would stop their deviltry all right," he thought "but I might neverfind out what they're after. About the only way is to give 'em enough ropeto hang themselves, and I'm blowed if I don't believe I could do thatbetter by leaving the outfit and doing a little sleuthing on my own."
Yet somehow that did not altogether appeal to him, either. The presence ofhandsome Alf Manning may have had something to do with Buck's reluctanceto quit the ranch just now, but he would never have admitted it, even tohimself. He simply made up his mind to wait a while, at least until hecould see what happened when Lynch discovered the failure of his latestplot, and then be governed by circumstances.
In the meantime the situation, so far as Miss Manning, was concerned, grewdaily more complicated. She showed a decided inclination for Stratton'ssociety, and when he came to know her better he found her frank, breezy,and delightfully companionable. He knew perfectly well that unless hewanted to take a chance of making some tremendous blunder he ought toavoid any prolonged conversation with the lady. But she was so charmingthat every now and then he flung prudence to the winds--and usuallyregretted it.
It was not that she said anything definitely disconcerting, but there wereoccasional hints and innuendoes, and now and then a question which seemedinnocent enough but which Stratton found difficult to parry. He couldn'tquite make up his mind whether or not she suspected the truth about hisformer mental condition, but he had an uncomfortable notion that shesensed a difference and was trying to find out just where it lay.
Time and again he told himself that at the worst there was nothingdisgraceful in that vanished past. But he had the ordinary healthy man'shorror for the abnormal, and the very fact that it had vanished so utterlybeyond recall made him willing, in order to avoid having it dragged backinto the light and made public property, to do almost anything, even tobeing almost rude to a pretty girl.
Thus between escaping Miss Manning and trying to keep an eye on Lynch,Stratton had his work cut out for him. He knew that sooner or later someone would be sent out to take a look through the middle pasture, and hewanted very much to be on hand when the report came back to Lynch that hisplot had miscarried. It was consequently with very bad grace that Buckreceived an order to ride in to Paloma one morning for the long-delayedwagon-bolts and a few necessary supplies from the store.
He felt at once that it was a put-up job to get him out of the way. Onlyyesterday Rick Bemis, able at length to ride that distance, had quit theranch escorted by Slim McCabe. If anything was really needed the lattercould have brought it back and saved the expense of sending another mantwenty-four hours later.
But there was no reasonable excuse for Buck's protesting, and he held histongue. He wished that he had taken Jessup into his confidence about theblackleg plot, but there was no time for that now. He did manage, on hisway to the corral, to whisper a word or two in passing, urging theyoungster to take particular note of anything that went on during hisabsence, but he would have much preferred giving Bud some definite idea ofwhat to look for, and his humor, as he saddled up and left the ranch, wasfar from amiable.
But gradually, as he rode rapidly along the trail, the crisp, clean airbrushing his face and the early morning sun caressing him with a pleasantwarmth, his mood changed. After all, it was really of very little momentwhether or not he was present when Lynch first learned that things hadfailed to go his way. At best he might have had a momentary vindictivethrill at glimpsing the fellow's thwarted rage; perhaps not even that, forTex was uncommonly good at hiding his emotions. It was much more importantfor him to decide definitely and soon about his own future plans, and thissolitary ride over an easy, familiar trail gave him as good a chance as hewas ever likely to have.
A little straight thinking made him realize--with a half-guilty feeling ofhaving deliberately shut his eyes to it before--that he could not hope toget much further under present conditions. Tied down as he was, a dozenpromising clues might pop up, which he would have no chance whatever ofinvestigating. Indeed, looking at the situation in this light, he felt awonder that Lynch should ever have tried to oust him from the ranch, wherehe could be kept under constant observation and followed up in every move.Working from the outside, with freedom to come and go as he liked, hecould accomplish a vast deal more than in this present hampered fashion.There still remained traces of his vague, underlying reluctance to leavethe place at this particular time, but Buck crushed it down firmly, even alittle angrily.
"It's up to me to quit," he muttered. "I'd be a blooming jackass to wasteany more time here. I'll have to work it naturally, though, or Lynch willsmell a rat."
At that moment the trail dipped down into a gully--the very one, in fact,where he had passed Tex that first day he had ridden out to the ranch.Thinking of the encounter, Buck recalled his own emotions with a curiousfeeling of remoteness. The grotesque mental picture he had formed of MaryThorne contrasted so amusingly with the reality that he grinned and mighthave broken into a laugh had he not caught sight at that moment of afigure riding toward him from the other end of the gully.
The high-crowned sombrero, abnormally broad of brim, the gaudysaddle-trappings and touches of bright color about the stranger'sequipment, brought a slight frown to Stratton's face. Apart even from isrecent unpleasant associations with them, he had never had any greatfondness for Mexicans, whom he considered slick and slippery beyond theaverage. He watched this one's approach warily, and when the fellow pulledup with a glistening smile and a polite "_Buenas tardes_," Strattonresponded with some curtness.
"Fine day, senor," remarked the stranger pleasantly.
"You've said it," returned Buck drily. "We haven't had rain in as much asthree weeks."
"Tha's right," agreed the other. His glance strayed to the brand on Buck'scayuse, and his swarthy face took on an expression of pleased surprise."You come from Shoe-Bar?" he questioned.
"You're some mind-reader," commented Stratton briefly. "What of it?"
"Mebbe yo' do me favor," pursued the Mexican eagerly. "Save me plenty hotride." He pulled an envelope from the pocket of his elaboratelysilver-conchoed chaps. "Rocking-R boss, he tell me take thees to MisterLeench at Shoe-Bar. Eef yo' take heem, I am save mooch trouble, eh?"
Buck eyed the extended envelope doubtfully. Then, ashamed of his momentaryhesitation to perform this simple service, he took it and tucked it awayin one pocket.
"All right," he agreed. "I'll take it over for you. I've got to go in totown first, though."
"No matter," shrugged the Mexican. "There is no hurry."
With reiterated and profuse thanks, he pulled his horse around and rodeback with Stratton as far as the Rocking-R trail, where he turned off.
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sp; "He'll find some corner where he can curl up and snooze for the couple ofhours he's saved," thought Buck, watching the departing figure. "Thosefellows, are so dog-gone lazy they'd sit and let grasshoppers, eat holesin their breeches."
As he rode on he wondered a little what Jim Tenny, the Rocking-R foreman,could have to do with Lynch, who seemed to be on the outs with everybody,but Presently he dismissed the subject with a shrug.
"I'll be getting as bad as Pop if I'm not careful" he thought. "Likelyit's some perfectly ordinary range business."
He found Daggett in a garrulous mood but was in no humor to waste timelistening to his flood of talk and questions. The bolts had come at last,and when he had secured them and the other things from the store, Buckpromptly mounted and set out on his return.
Tex met him just outside the corral and received the letter withoutcomment, thrusting it into his pocket unread. He seemed much moreinterested in the arrival of the bolts, and after dinner set Stratton andMcCabe to work in the wagon-shed replacing the broken ones. It was notuntil late in the afternoon that Buck managed a few words in private withJessup, and was surprised to learn that the gang had been working all dayto the southeast of the ranch. Tex himself had been absent from the partyfor an hour or two in the morning, but when he joined them he came fromthe direction of the Paloma trail, and Stratton did not believe he couldhave had time thoroughly to inspect the middle pasture and return so soonby so roundabout a course.
"He'll do it to-morrow, sure," decided Buck. "It isn't human nature tohold off much longer."
He was right. After breakfast Stratton and McCabe were ordered to resumework on the wagons, while the others sallied forth with Lynch, ostensiblyto ride fence along the southern side of middle pasture. Buck awaitedtheir return with interest and curiosity. He thought he might possiblydetect some signs of glumness in the faces of the foreman and hisconfederates, but he was quite unprepared for the open anger andexcitement which stamped every face, Bud Jessup's included.
"Rustlers were out again last night," Bud explained, the moment he had achance.
Buck stared at him in amazement, the totally unexpected nature of thething taking him completely by surprise.
"Why I thought--"
"So did I," interrupted Bud curtly. "I didn't believe they'd dare breakinto middle pasture, but they have. There's a gap a hundred yards wide inthe fence, and they've got away with a couple of hundred head at least."
"You're sure it happened last night?"
"Dead certain. The tracks are too fresh. Buck, if Tex Lynch don't getHardenberg on the job now, we'll _know_ he's crooked."
"We'd pretty near decided that anyhow, hadn't we?" returned Strattonabsently.
He was wondering how this new move had been managed and what it meant. Ifit had been merely part of a scheme to loot the Shoe-Bar for his ownbenefit, Tex would never have allowed his rustler accomplices to touch asteer from that middle pasture herd, which he must feel by this time to bethoroughly and completely infected. Even if he had managed during hisbrief absence yesterday to make a hurried inspection, and suspected thatthe blackleg' plot had failed, he couldn't be certain enough to take achance like this.
The foreman's manner gave Buck no clue. At dinner he was unusually silentand morose, taking no part in the discussion of this latest outrage, whichthe others kept up with such a convincing semblance of indignation. ToStratton he acted like a man who has come to some new and not altogetheragreeable decision, which in any other person would probably mean that hehad at last made up his mind to call in the sheriff. But Buck wasconvinced that this was the last thing Lynch intended to do, and graduallythere grew up in his mind, fostered by one or two trifling particulars inTex's manner toward himself, a curious, instinctive feeling of premonitorycaution.
This increased during the afternoon, when the men were sent out to repairthe broken fence, while Lynch remained behind. It fed on little details,such as a chance side glance from one of the men, or the sight of two ofthem in low-voiced conversation when he was not supposed to belooking--details he would scarcely have noticed ordinarily. Toward the endof the day Buck had grown almost certain that some fresh move was beingdirected against himself, and when the blow fell only its nature came as asurprise.
The foreman was standing near the corral when they returned, and as soonas Stratton had unsaddled and turned his horse loose, Lynch drew him toone side.
"Here's your time up to to-night," he said curtly, holding out a handfulof crumpled bills and silver. "Miss Thorne's decided she don't want yuh onthe outfit any longer."
For a moment Stratton regarded the foreman in silence, observing the glintof veiled triumph in his eyes and the malicious curve of the full redlips. The thought flashed through his mind that Lynch would hardly bequite so pleased if he knew how much time Buck himself had given lately tothinking up some scheme of plausibly bringing about this very situation.
"_Is_ that so?" he drawled presently. "How did you work it?" he added, inthe casual tone of one seeking to gratify a trifling curiosity.
Lynch scowled. "Work it?" he snapped. "I didn't have to work it. Yuh knowdamn well why you're sacked. Why should I waste time tellin' yuh?"
Stratton smiled blandly. "In that case I reckon I'll have to ask MissThorne," he remarked, standing with legs slightly apart and thumbs hookedloosely in his chap-belt. "I'm rather curious, you know."
"Like hell yuh will!" rasped Lynch, as Buck took a step or two toward thehouse.
Impulsively Lynch's right hand dropped to his gun but as his fingerstouched the stock he found himself staring at the uptilted end ofStratton's holster frayed a little at the end so that the glint of a bluedsteel barrel showed through the leather.
"Just move your hand a mite," Buck suggested in a quiet, level tone, whichwas nevertheless obeyed promptly. "Now, listen here. I want you to getthis. I ain't longing to stick around any outfit when the boss don't wantme. If the lady says I'm to go, I'll get out _pronto_; but I don't trustyou, and she's got to tell me that face to face before I move a step._Sabe?_"
His eyes narrowed slightly, and Lynch, crumpling the unheeded money in hishand, stepped aside with an expression of baffled fury and watched himstride along the side of the house and disappear around the corner.
He was far from lacking nerve, but he had suddenly remembered that letterto Sheriff Hardenberg, regarding which he had long ago obtainedconfirmation from Pop Daggett. If he could rely on the meaning ofStratton's little anecdote--and he had an uncomfortable conviction that hecould--the letter would be opened in case Buck met his death by violence.And once it was opened by the sheriff, only Tex Lynch how very much thefat would be in the fire.
So, though his fingers twitched, he held his hand, and presently, hearingvoices in the living-room, he crept over to an open window and, standingclose to one side of it, bent his head to listen.
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