CHAPTER VI
ACCORDING TO THE RECORDS
Oliver Drew had found a bee tree on the backbone of the ridge betweenthe Old Ivison Place and the American River. He stood contemplating it,watching the busy little workers winging their way to and from the holein the hollow trunk, planning to change their quarters and put them towork for him.
Far below him, down a precipitous pine-studded slope, the green AmericanRiver raced toward the ocean. There had been a week of late rains, andgood grass for the summer was assured.
Away through the tall trees below him he saw red cows filtering along,cropping eagerly at the lush growth after a long dusty trip from thedrying lowlands. Now and then he saw a horseman galloping along a miledistant. He heard an occasional faint shout, borne upward on the softspring wind. The Seldens were ending the drive of their cattle to summerpastures.
He turned suddenly as he heard the tramp of hoofs. Six horsemen wereapproaching, along the backbone of the ridge, winding in and out betweenclumps of the sparse chaparral.
In the lead, straight and sturdy as some ancient oak, rode a tall manwith grey hair that hung below his ears and a flowing grey beard. Hewore the conventional cowpuncher garb, from black-silk neckerchief, heldin place by a poker chip with holes bored in it, to high-heeled bootsand chaps. He rode a gaunt grey horse. His tapaderos flapped looselyagainst the undergrowth, and, so long were the man's legs, they seemedalmost to scrape the ground. A holstered Colt hung at the rider's side.
Silent, stern of face, this old man rode like the wraith of some ancientchieftain at the head of his hard-riding warriors.
Those who followed him were younger men, plainly _vaqueros_. They lolledin their saddles, and smoked and bantered. But Oliver's eyes were alonefor the stalwart figure in the lead, who neither spoke nor smiled norpaid any attention to his band, but rode on grimly as if heading anexpedition into dangerous and unknown lands.
Undoubtedly this was Old Man Selden and his four sons, together withother members of the Poison Oakers Gang. They had left the cows tothemselves and were making their way homeward after the drive. Oliver'sfirst impulse was to hide behind a tree and watch, for he felt that heshould forego no chance of a strategic advantage. Then he decided thatit was not for him to begin manoeuvring, and stood boldly in fullview, wondering whether the riders would pass without observing him.
They did not. He heard a sharp word or two from some follower of the oldman, and for the first time the leader showed signs of knowing that hewas not riding alone. He slued about in his saddle. A hand pointed inOliver's direction. The old man reined in his grey horse and lookedtoward Oliver and the bee tree. The other horsemen drew up around him.There was a short consultation, then all of them leaned to the right intheir saddles and galloped over the uneven land.
They reined in close to the lone man, and a dusty, sweaty, hard-lookingclan they were. Keen, curious eyes studied him, and there was nomistaking the insolent and bullying attitude of their owners.
A quick glance Oliver gave the five, then his interest settled on theirleader.
Adam Selden was a powerful man. His nose was of the Bourbon type, largeand deeply pitted. His eyes were blue and strong and dominating.
"Howdy?" boomed a deep bass voice.
Oliver smiled. "How do you do?" he replied.
Then silence fell, while old Adam Selden sat rolling a quid of tobaccoin his mouth and studying the stranger with inscrutable cold blue eyes.
"I've found a bee tree," said Oliver when the tensity grew almostunbearable. "I was just figuring on the best way to hive the littlerascals."
Selden slowly nodded his great head up and down with exasperatingexaggeration.
"Stranger about here, ain't ye?" he asked.
"Well, I've been here over a month," Oliver answered. "I own the OldTabor Ivison Place, down there in the valley. My name is Oliver Drew,and I guess you're Mr. Selden."
Another long pause, then--
"Yes, I'm Selden. Them's my cows ye see down there moseyin' up the riverbottom and over the hills. I been runnin' cows in here summers for agood many years. Just so!"
"I see," said Oliver, not knowing what else to say.
"Three o' these men are my boys," Selden drawled on. "The rest arefriends o' ours. Has anybody told ye about the poison oak that grows'round here?"
"I'm familiar with it," Oliver told him.
"Ain't scared o' poison oak, then?"
"Not at all. I'm immune."
"It's a pesterin' plant. You'll chafe under it and chafe under it, andthink it's gone; then here she comes back again, redder and lumpier anditchier than ever."
"I'm quite familiar with its persistence," Oliver gravely stated.
"And still ye ain't afraid o' poison oak?"
"Not in the least."
The gang was grinning, but the chief of the
Poison Oakers maintained a straight face.
"Ain't scared of it, then," he drawled on. "Well, now, that's handy. Ilike to meet a man that ain't scared o' poison oak. Got yer placefenced, I reckon?"
"Yes, I've repaired the fence."
"That's right. That's always the best way. O' course the law says we gotto see that our stock don't get on your prop'ty. Whether that there's agood and just law or not I ain't prepared to say right now. But we gotto obey it, and we always try to keep our cows offen other folks'pasture. But it's best to fence, whether ye got stock o' yer own or not.Pays in the long run, and keeps a fella outa trouble with hisneighbours. But the best o' fencin' won't keep out the poison oak. O'course, though, you know that. Now what're ye gonta do down there on theOld Ivison Place?--if I ain't too bold in askin'."
"Have a little garden, and maybe get a cow later on. Put a few stands ofbees to work for me, if I can find enough swarms in the woods. I have asaddle horse and a burro to keep the grass down now. I don't intend todo a great deal in the way of farming."
"I'd think not," Selden drawled. "Land about here's good fer nothin' butgrazin' a few months outa the year. Man would be a fool to try and farmdown where you're at. How ye gonta make a livin'?--if I'm not too boldin askin'."
"I intend to write for agricultural papers for my living," said Oliver.
Silence greeted this. So far as their experience was concerned, Olivermight as well have stated that he was contemplating the manufacture oftortoise-shell side combs to keep soul and body to their accustomedpartnership.
"How long ye owned this forty?" Old Man Selden asked.
"Only since my father's death, this year."
"Yer father, eh? Who was yer father?"
"Peter Drew, of the southern part of the state."
"How long'd he own that prop'ty before he died?"
"He owned it for some time, I understand," said Oliver patiently.
The grey head shook slowly from side to side. "I can show ye, down tothe county seat, that Nancy Fleet--who was an Ivison and sister o' thewoman I married here about four year ago--owned that land up until thefirst o' the year, anyway. It was left to her by old Tabor Ivison whenhe died. That was fifteen year ago, and I've paid the taxes on it eversince for Nancy Fleet, for the privilege o' runnin' stock on it. I paidthe taxes last year. What 'a' ye got to say to that?"
Oliver Drew had absolutely nothing to say to it. He could only stare atthe gaunt old man.
"But I have the deed!" he burst out at last.
"And I've got last year's tax receipts," drawled Adam Selden. "Ye bettergo down to the county seat and have a look at the records," he added,swinging his horse about. "Then when ye've done that, I'd like a talkwith ye. Just so! Just so!"
He rode off without another word, the gang following.
Early next morning Oliver was in the saddle. As Poche picked his way outof the canyon Oliver espied Jessamy Selden on her white mare, standingstill in the county road.
"Good morning," said the girl. "You're late. I've been waiting for youten minutes."
Oliver's lips parted in surprise, and she laughed good-naturedly.
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nbsp; "I thought you'd be riding out early this morning," she explained, "so Irode down to meet you. I feel as if a long ride in the saddle wouldbenefit me today. Do you mind if I travel with you to the county seat?"
He had ridden close to her by this time, and offered his hand.
"You like to surprise people, don't you?" he accused. "The answer toyour question is, I do not mind if you travel with me to the countyseat. But let me tell you--you'll have to travel. This is a horse thatI'm riding."
She turned up her nose at him. "I like to have a man talk that way tome," she said. "Don't ever dare to hold my stirrup for me, or slow downwhen you think the pace is getting pretty brisk, or anything like that."
"I wouldn't think of such discourtesy," he told her seriously. "Younoticed that I let you mount unaided the other day. I might have walkedahead, though, and opened the gate for you if you hadn't loped off."
"That's why I did it," she demurely confessed. "I'm rather proud ofbeing able to take care of myself. And as for that wonderful horse ofyours, he does look leggy and capable. But, then, White Ann has a pointor two herself. Let's go!"
Their ponies took up the walking-trot of the cattle country side by sidetoward Halfmoon Flat.
"Well," Oliver began, "of course my meeting you means that you know I'vehad an encounter with Adam Selden, and that he has told you he doubts ifI am the rightful owner of the Tabor Ivison Place."
"Yes, I overheard his conversation with Hurlock last night," she toldhim. "So I thought I'd ride down with you, sensing that you would beworried and would hit the trail this morning."
"I am worried," he said. "I can't imagine why your step-father made thatstatement."
"Just call him Adam or Old Man Selden when you're speaking of him tome," she prompted. "Even the 'step' in front of 'father' does not takeaway the bad taste. And you might at least _think_ of me as JessamyLomax. I will lie in the bed I made when I espoused the name of Selden,for it would be stupid to go about now notifying people that I have goneback to Lomax again. My case is not altogether hopeless, however. Youare witness that I have a fair chance of some day acquiring the name ofFoss, at any rate. So you are worried about the land tangle?"
"What can it mean?" he puzzled.
"This probably is not the first instance in which a deed has not beenrecorded promptly," she ventured. "That won't affect your ownership.Personally I know that Aunt Nancy Fleet's name appears in the recordsdown at the county seat as the owner of the property. She sold it toyour father, doubtless, and the transfer never was recorded. Where isyour deed?"
He slapped his breast.
"See that you keep it there," she said significantly.
"You say you know that your Aunt Nancy Fleet is named as owner of theproperty in the county records?"
She nodded.
"Then she has allowed Adam Selden to believe that she still owns it!" hecried. "And this is proved by reason of her having allowed him to paythe taxes for the right to run stock on the land."
She nodded again.
He wrinkled his brows. "It would seem to be a sort of conspiracy againstAdam Selden by your Aunt Nancy and--" He paused.
"And who?"
"Well, it's not like my father's business methods to allow a deed to gounrecorded for fifteen years," he told her. "Not at all like Dad. So Imust name him as a party to this conspiracy against old Adam. But whatis the meaning of it, Miss Selden?"
"I'm sure I am not in a position to say," she replied lightly. "Someday, when you've got things to running smoothly down there, I'll takeyou to see Aunt Nancy. She lives up in Calamity Gap--about ten miles tothe north of Halfmoon Flat. Maybe she can and will explain."
He regarded her steadily; but for once her eyes did not meet his, thoughhe could not say that this was intentional on her part.
"By George, I believe _you_ can explain it!" he accused.
"I?"
"You heard me the first time."
"Did you learn that expression at the University of California or inFrance?"
"I stick to my statement," he grumbled.
"Do so, by all means. Just the same, I am not in a position to enlightenyou. But I promise to take you to Aunt Nancy whenever you're ready togo. There's an Indian reservation up near where she lives. You'll wantto visit that. We can make quite a vacation of the trip. You'll see ariding outfit or two that will run close seconds to yours for decorationand elaborate workmanship. My! What a saddle and bridle you have! I'vebeen unable to keep my eyes off them from the first; but you were sobusy with your land puzzle that I couldn't mention them. I've seen somepretty elaborate rigs in my day, but nothing to compare with yours. It'sold, too. Where did you get it?"
"They were Dad's," he told her. "He left them and Poche to me at hisdeath. I must tell you of something that happened when I first showed upin Halfmoon Flat in all my grandeur. Do you know Old Dad Sloan, the'Forty-niner?"
She nodded, her glance still on the heavy, chased silver of his saddle.
Then Oliver told her of the queer old man's mysterious words when he sawthe saddle and bridle and martingales, and the stones that were set inthe silver _conchas_.
She was strangely silent when he had finished. Then she said musingly:
"The lost mine of Bolivio. Certainly that sounds interesting. And DanSmeed, squawman, highwayman, and outlaw. The days of old, the days ofgold--the days of 'Forty-nine! Thought of them always thrills me. Tellme more, Mr. Drew. I know there is much more to be told."
"I'll do it," he said; and out came the strange story of Peter Drew andhis last message to his son.
Her wide eyes gazed at him throughout the recital and while he read themessage aloud. They were sparkling as he concluded and looked across ather.
"Oh, that dear, delightful, romantic old father of yours!" she cried."You're a man of mystery--a knight on a secret quest! Oh, if I couldonly help you! Will you let me try?"
"I'd be only too glad to shift half the burden of finding the questionand its correct answer to your strong shoulders," he said.
"Then we'll begin just as soon as you're ready," she declared. "I have aplan for the first step. Wait! I'll help you!"
Shortly before noon they dropped rein before the court house and soughtthe county recorder's office. Oliver gave the legal description of hisland, and soon the two were pouring over a cumbersome book, heads closetogether.
To his vast surprise, Oliver found that his deed had been recorded thesecond day after his father's death, and that, up until that recentdate, the land had appeared in the records as the property of NancyFleet.
"Dad's lawyers did this directly after his death," he said to Jessamy."They sent the deed up here and had it recorded just before turning itover to me. Adam Selden hasn't seen it yet. Say, this is growing mightymysterious, Miss Selden."
"Delightfully so," she agreed. "Now as you weren't expecting me to comealong, have you enough money for lunch for two? If not, I have. We'dbetter eat and be starting back."
The Heritage of the Hills Page 6