"Knowin' damn well that I can't do it," the rancher said angrily.
"I dunno nothin' about yore affairs, an' I ain't carin'," the saloon-keeper replied.
It did not need the hard, merciless tone nor the sneering look to convince the cowman that any appeal would be useless. When he spoke again his voice was low, vibrant :
"Yu seem to hold the cards, but I reckon the deck was stacked. Whatever you want belongin' to me yu'll have to fight for, Raven."
For a long moment the two men faced one another, brown eyes clashing with beady black ones. The half-breed was the first to turn away, silently cursing the mother who bore him. He sent a venomous glance after the young man as he left the bar.
"I'll make yu pay to the last cent," he muttered. "I'll take yore ranch, yore girl, an' break yore damned heart."
But Bordene had spoilt his evening; he could not forget that, for all his popularity, he had once again quailed under the gaze of a hated white.
* * *
Renton's return to the Double S with the stolen steers and his story of what had happened produced an extraordinary revolution in the mind of Reuben Sarel. Shame at the thought that he had allowed himself to be used by such a man as Raven overrode every other consideration.
"The dirty dawg oughta be strung up," he grated, and the foreman was amazed at the savage tone of his usually mild and easy-going manager.
"Meanin' Jevons?" he asked.
"Meanin' his thievin' boss, who killed him to close his mouth," retorted Sarel.
"Which is my sentiments to a dot," the foreman agreed. "But thinkin' an' provin' is two different things."
Reuben nodded gloomily and Renton left him pacing up and down the veranda. Absorbed in his thoughts, he did not notice that Tonia was watching him with a mischievous smile.
"So glad you've made up your mind to do it at last," she said.
Sarel spun round, his fat face flushing. Hang it, had the girl read his thoughts? But the merry, affectionate look told him this could not be.
"To do what, Tonia?" he asked.
"Take that exercise you need, of course," she laughed. "I notice you don't go far from a chair though."
Reuben dropped wearily into a seat. "Quit yore foolin', girl, an' sit," he said. "I got somethin' serious to tell yu." There was an awkward pause and then he blurted out, "I've been double-crossin' yu, Tonia. No, don't say nothin'--just listen."
Head down, drooping in his chair, he told the whole sordid story. How he had got deeper and deeper in debt, and, realizing the hopelessness of ever being able to pay, had yielded to his creditor's crafty offer to take Double S cattle.
"I was allus meanin' to pay yu back, lass, but the cussed luck wouldn't change, an' I on'y got mired worse'n before," he pleaded. "An' with that devil threatenin' to tell you..."
His voice tailed away miserably, and he could not look at her. Tonia rose and put an arm round his neck.
"Yu dear old silly, as if I care a hoot about the stupid cows," she soothed. "Why didn't you tell me and save yourself all these months of worry? I suppose that was why you thought that cur would make a good husband for me?"
"I never thought that, girl, but he had me roped," Reuben replied. "I knew I'd oughta throw him outa the place, but I ain't the man yore father was. I've been a poor sorta guardian."
"You've been very good to me," she said, "and you're not to think anything different. As for Mister Raven--" she stopped suddenly and her cheeks grew rosy. "Andy's coming, and he looks as though he'd been washed and hung out to dry."
The simile was not inapt, for Bordene sat draped over his saddle, chin on chest. At the ranch-house he got down listlessly, threw the reins, and stepped heavily forward. He appeared a tired and dispirited man, but at the sight of the girl he forced a smile to his drawn lips.
"Howdy, folks," he greeted.
His attempted gaiety did not deceive the girl. "What's the matter, Andy?" she asked quietly.
The boy smiled bitterly. "Nothin' the matter, Tonia, 'cept we gotta change that job yu were goin' to give me into one o' ridin' for yu."
"What rubbish vu kids talkin'?" the fat man enquired. "Tryin' to tell us yu lost yore ranch, Andy?"
"I reckon it amounts to just that," he replied dully, and went on to tell of Fate's final blow to his hopes. They had heard of the robbery, but had not known that Andy was deeply affected. Raven's bid for popularity was news, and they stared open-eyed at Bordene when he related his conversation with the saloonkeeper. "I paid the money to Potter, an' what he did with it the Lord on'y knows," he said in conclusion. "O' course, I was dumb to hand it to him thataway, but--"
Tonia nodded understandingly, and her look was a caress. "It was because I was in danger, Andy, wasn't it?" she said. "Since Raven holds your mortgage, it would naturally be inconvenient to hand you the money to redeem it, and he couldn't play favourites, so I am not surprised there is no record in the bank books."
The two men looked at her. "That's sound reasonin', but could he get at 'em?" Sarel asked.
"Of course he could--he'd be the first sent for, in the marshal's absence," Tonia pointed out. "And, anyway, he could buy the soul of that clerk of Potter's for a few dollars."
"I'm bettin' yo're right, Tonia, but what can we do?" Andy said. "He's got the town eatin' outa his hand now." The girl smiled at him. "I'm going to pay off your mortgage, Andy; the Double S will be good enough security for that amount."
"No, I won't have you involved in this," the young man protested. "I'd sooner let him have the ranch."
Sarel slapped his knee in delight. "She's right, boy," he cried. "The Box B at twice the sum is a bargain; why shouldn't Tonia have it instead o' that schemin' skunk, huh? On'y point is, where we goin' to borry that much coin?"
"From the bank at Sweetwater," Tonia told him. "It's no use your saying anything, Andy; I am going to beat that beast if it takes every dollar I possess."
But, as they were soon to learn, their enemy had a card up his sleeve, one powerful enough to shatter their hopes and cast them utterly in the dust.
CHAPTER XXIII
Breakfast was over at the Double S, and Reuben Sarel had climbed into the buckboard and set out to interview the manager of the Sweetwater bank. Tonia, having seen him off, went about her household duties. She was in the midst of a gay little song when a rattle of hoofs outside brought her to the veranda. The song ceased and her face hardened when she saw the lank, stooping figure of the saloon-keeper, head forward, his coat-tails suggesting the wings of the carrion-eating bird to which men likened him.
"Mornin', Tonia, yo're lookin' right peart," he commenced. "Reub around?"
"My uncle has gone to Sweetwater," she replied, flushing at the caller's familiar manner.
"Well, I guess we can get along without him--two's company, ain't it?" he said with a smirk, as, not waiting for an invitation, he stepped on the veranda and sat down.
"If your business is with my uncle--" she began.
"Take a seat, Tonia. My business--though I shore wouldn't call it that--is with yu," the visitor told her. "An' I'm bettin' yu can guess what it is."
The girl sat down. "I haven't the remotest idea," she said.
"I've allus understood that a pretty gal is wise when a fella comes a-courtin'," he leered.
"Courting? You?" Tonia cried. He was right, she had known, but now that the thing had actually happened, the enormity of it staggered her.
"Why not? I ain't so old," he urged. "See here, girl, I don't have the trick o' pretty speeches, but I'm askin' yu to marry me. As my wife yu'll be somebody; I got the dollars."
"You can leave that entirely out of it," Tonia said quietly. "For the rest, I don't like you, Air. Raven, and I am already promised."
"To Andy Bordene, huh?--the half-wit who, when I say the word, won't be worth ten cents."
"And even then preferable to one who makes his money by selling poison to poor fools, cheating at cards, and stealing other folks' cattle," she flamed.
The half-breed's ye
llow cheeks burned redly at the accusation, and his little eyes were alight with rage as he saw his hopes go glimmering. But she was lovely and desirable even in her anger, and he fought to control the passion that devoured him.
"So yu think I'm a rustler, huh?" he said. "Well, I'll tell yu somethin'. When I shot Jevons, it was for yore sake. The cattle he was charged with stealin' were handed over, on the quiet, by yore manager."
"Nothing of the kind. The cattle were mine, and he had my permission to take them," she said hotly.
"After he had crawfished, mebbe," the man said shrewdly. "Shucks! war-talk won't get us anywheres. What yu gotta understand is that it depends on yu whether Bordene gits another chance."
To his astonishment she laughed outright. "I am quite aware of it," was her reply. "That is why Uncle Reuben has gone to Sweetwater."
The merriment and triumphant tone brought a deeper scowl on the face of the unwelcome suitor, but, to her chagrin, he showed no discomfiture. On the contrary, a wintry smile distorted his thin lips.
"If he's expectin' to git a loan at the bank on the Double S he's due for a disappointment," he stated.
It was now Tonia's turn to be surprised. "I don't know what you mean," she said.
"Yu will," he sneered, and added harshly. "Look here, girl, yu've been takin' a middlin' high hand with me, an' so far I've let you run on the rope. But the rope's there, an' it's time yu took a tumble." He waved a hand at the range lying before them. "Yu think yu own all this?" he asked, and, when she nodded, "Well, yu don't, an' that's why the Sweetwater bank won't lend yu money on it."
"You must be crazy," Tonia said.
He grinned wolfishly. "Not any." He drew a paper from his pocket. "This is a deed o' mortgage on the Double S, executed by yore father shortly afore he--died, an' given to me as security for sixty thousand dollars lent by me. Look for yourself."
He held the document out and she saw that he was speaking the truth. For a moment the revelation stunned her and then she rallied.
"That is not my father's writing."
"No, Potter drew it up an' witnessed yore dad's signature. Nothin' crooked 'bout that, huh?"
She could find no answer; the news had hit her like a landslide, sweeping away all hope. She forced herself to speak:
"Why have you kept silent about this?"
"Didn't wanta worry yu, Tonia," he replied, and his voice was less harsh. "Hoped I'd git the Double S in a pleasanter way, an' tear this up." He tapped the deed. "I'm still hopin'," he added.
Tonia drew herself up, and the look that had been her father's shone in her steady eyes.
"Please remember that I am 'Tonia' only to my friends, Mr. Raven," she reminded. "As for your proposal, why I'd sooner marry a Gila monster."
The bitter scorn and contempt stung him like a knotted whiplash, rousing the dormant savage in his nature. Leaping to his feet, his face a mask of fury, he poured out a stream of threats and curses, his clenched fist raised as though to strike her.
"Yu damned Jezebel," he raved, "I'll tame yu--I'll lower yore pride. I'll get--"
"Outta here, if yo're wise."
An iron hand seized his collar, shook him like a rat, and flung him backwards so violently that he catapulted over the veranda rail and spread-eagled, face downwards, in the dust. Looking up, he saw the marshal standing above him, a gun in his hand, and death in his eyes. Visiting Renton, he had walked up from the bunk-house and come upon the scene unobserved.
"Fade, yu yellow dawg," Green rasped, and kicked the man's hat towards him. "If I catch yu speakin' to Miss Sarel again I'll make yu dumb for keeps. Now, climb that bronc and vamoose; yu don't improve the scenery, none whatever."
Seth Raven picked up his hat, dusted himself, and moved towards his mount. For an instant he glanced at the girl as though about to speak, but the marshal was not one to utter idle threats and he thought better of it. Only when he was some hundreds of yards away did he turn and shake a furious fist at them. The marshal grinned as he saw the action.
"Played it safe, didn't he?" he said. "What's the coyote been doin' to upset yu, Miss Sarel?"
"He wants to marry me," she told him.
"Wish I'd broken his neck," Green said fervently. "I reckon yu set him back some."
"I said I'd rather marry a Gila," she confessed, a glint of a smile lightening her woebegone face.
"Which shorely showed yore good taste," the marshal laughed. "Well, I'm bettin' he won't bother yu no more." . "But he will--both Andy and myself are in his clutches," she said miserably, and related the rest of her conversation with Raven. The marshal's face lengthened.
"That's bad--that's awful bad," he admitted, when he had heard it all. "No reason to doubt the genuineness o' that paper he showed yu, I s'pose?"
"It looked like Daddy's signature."
"Potter is the king-pin," Green mused. "If he could speak--"
"I'm sorry to have made trouble for you."
"Don't yu worry yore head about that. I never was a popular fella anyways. I'm on my way to Sweetwater to see Strade. Keep a-smilin'; Raven ain't got yore ranch yet."
She watched him swing up into the saddle with the easy grace of the born horseman, and ride away. Three times this long, lithe puncher, with his slow Southern drawl and level, smiling eyes, had, like a veritable knight of the plains, come to her rescue, and it heartened her to know that he was on her side. Nevertheless,, the future looked bleak enough, and the mere thought of losing the home she loved brought a lump into her throat.
* * *
As the marshal rode along the street of Sweetwater a shabby, hard-featured woman came out of a store, and at the sight of him, stood staring.
"Say, mister, who's that fella?" she asked of a passer-by.
The Parson, for he it was chance had thrown in her way, pulled up and eyed her curiously. "Town marshal o' Lawless--calls hisself Green," he replied. "Why, do yu know him?"
"Not by name," she said. "Over to Texas they used to call him Sudden."
The passer-by became alert. "The outlaw?" he queried.
The woman nodded. "He had a hard reputation, but I reckon it warn't deserved; he did me a mighty good turn onct, an' I've heard of others."
Pardoe thought rapidly. "Unless yu wanta do him a mighty bad turn yu'll keep mum 'bout him," he urged. "It's all right with me--I ain't sayin' a word; but if folks here found out who he is they'd hang him quicker'n scat."
"My land, mister, I'm obliged to yu for the warnin'," she said earnestly. "Yu can reckon me dumb, if I am a woman. I wouldn't have harm come to him through me for all the gold in Mexico; he's a good fella, say what they like."
The gambler's cunning eyes watched her hurry away, and saw the subject of their conversation enter the sheriff's office. Then he slid into the nearest saloon, bought a drink, and sat down to think things over, keeping a wary eye on the sheriff's door.
"If I take him in Raven will be tickled to death," he reasoned. "Make me marshal, likely, and mebbe I'll find where he cached the plunder."
The matter satisfactorily decided, he absorbed another drink, and departed by the back door to make the necessary preparations.
* * *
The sheriff leaned back in his chair and regarded his visitor thoughtfully. He had just heard the latest news from Lawless, and his frown showed that he did not like it.
"Allus had doubts 'bout Raven--dunno why--'count of his mixed blood, I reckon; sooner trust an honest-to-God Injun myself," he said. "He certainly 'pears to have them two ranchers roped."
Green asked an apparently irrelevant question: "Was it ever found out who bumped off Anthony Sarel?"
The sheriff shook his head. "No evidence a-tall," he replied. "The body warn't robbed an' he had no known enemies; Tony was a good fella an' well liked."
"Where was Raven at the time?"
"Couldn't say--no one knowed quite when the killin' took place. Tony left town 'bout midday an' he warn't found till evenin', when one o' his outfit happened on him. Yu don't think--
?"
"I'm shootin' in the dark; but, holdin' that mortgage, he had a good reason for wantin' Sarel out o' the way, an' he wasn't in town when the stage was held up nor when Bordene was bushwhacked. Then there's the hoss."
"What hoss?" the sheriff enquired.
Green told of the tracking of Andrew Bordene's murderer over the Border and back again, and the finding of the hidden black in the little valley. Strade's eyebrows went up.
"Odd, that," he admitted. "Near the 88 too. Yu figure that Raven is yore double?"
"Can't go as far as that, but yu gotta allow that if he's tryin' to corral the ranches, Sudden the Second has helped him a whole lot. O' course, it might be someone workin' for him. I thought o' Leeson but he ain't got the guts, an' Jevons--wish I knew what he was goin' to tell us."
"Five minutes' talk with Potter would clear the air some, I'm thinkin'."
"That's the cussed luck of it--every leak stopped," the marshal grumbled, and suddenly sat up. "Hell's bells, he mighta robbed the bank hisself."
"But he's returnin' the money," the sheriff protested.
"Not Andy's thirty thousand, the loss of which practically gives Raven the Box B," Green pointed out. "An' if Potter was gettin' dangerous--" He ruminated for a moment. "It was on'y Raven who saw a fella on a black hoss sneakin' outa town that night."
The sheriff whistled softly. "Puttin' her thataway, it seems you might be right," he agreed. "But provin' it is somethin' else."
The marshal nodded moodily. "Most o' them damn fools in Lawless wouldn't hear a word against him just now. Can yu imagine Raven givin' money away?"
"He's gettin' good value," Strade said. "He'd sell what he might call his soul for power. As an Injun, he'd 'a' been chief of his tribe, or nothin'; that's the kind o' man he is." Which showed that the sheriff had gauged the saloon-keeper correctly without divining the basic hatred behind his obsession. "Wonder why he made yu marshal?"
"He took it that bein' down an' out I'd dance to his tune," Green replied. "He pretty near said it, an' mebbe I didn't contradict him."
"Yu'll need to watch out now yu've shown yore hand," Strade warned.
"Yu don't have to tell me that," the marshal said grimly. "I saw Jevons die."
Sudden The Marshal of Lawless (1933) s-8 Page 17