Bannister was not embarrassed; he was merely surprised that the owner of the great Half Diamond should turn out to be so young and so good to look at. He shook his head and laughed. “I’m not a terror of any kind, Miss Marble . . . unless they prod me,” he returned, smiling. “I just stepped in because the business looked too one-sided. I don’t know as this Le Beck would have gone the limit.”
“From what I hear, I believe he would,” said Florence Marble seriously. “I’m always worried when Howard’s in town. He’s wild, and all that, but he’s good at heart. But the thing I want to thank you most for is the promise you got from him. I’ve been trying to get such a promise for two years and he’s always talked me out of it. If he’ll only keep it.”
“I think he will,” said Bannister. “There’s good stuff in that boy. It’s sticking out all over him. He’s just got to get his bearings, that’s all. From the way he hesitated before he promised me, and the way he looked at me when he did, I’d be willing to bet my horse and saddle that he’ll keep it.”
“I hope so,” said Florence, brightening. “Mister Bannister . . .”
“Please leave off that mister,” he said with another smile. “I’m not used to it. I’m just plain Bannister.”
“All right, Bannister. I was wondering if you maybe were not the man who rode through our place the other morning. Manley was telling me of a rider and you seem to fit the description. You act like a man who would sass him back.”
“I’m that same hombre.” Bannister chuckled.
“Manley said you were a cowman, that he offered you a job, and you turned him down flat,” she said, smiling.
“I told him I had to have my holiday,” Bannister explained. “Well, I’m having it.”
“So I see.” She nodded. “I need men on the ranch, Bannister. I need one particular kind of a man for a . . . well, a special job. No, I know what you’re thinking about. I don’t want a gunman, although I was born in the West and I don’t object to a man being handy with his gun. The kind of man I want is hard to find. I depend on Manley to hire my men . . . him and Hayes . . . but Manley’s brains are, well, so much machinery. Would you take a special job with the Half Diamond at good pay without knowing what it is going to be? For I haven’t time to tell you now.”
Bannister’s smile flashed instantly. “Now you’ve got me, Miss Marble. All my life I’ve been taking chances. I’ve gone out of my way to take a chance. If you’d said you wanted to hire me as a cowhand, or a horse breaker, or anything else, I’d have said no. But you’ve got me in the dark and guessing. I’ll take the chance.”
“It may be more of a chance than you think,” she warned. “And I’m taking a chance, too, because I know nothing about you except your name. We’ll go out to the ranch in the morning. Oh, here comes Mister Cromer. He’ll want me to dance.”
Bannister saw a man of medium height, muscular, square-jawed, thin-lipped, with a close-clipped, bristly tan mustache. He was moving rapidly toward them, a slight frown on his face. Then Bannister saw his eyes at close range. He didn’t like them.
So this is the irrigation man, he said to himself.
“All right, Miss Marble, let’s go,” said Cromer in a proprietary voice as he came up.
Bannister did not like the voice, either.
“Just a minute, Mister Cromer,” said Florence, “meet Mister Bannister.”
“Howdy,” said Cromer with a jerky nod. He did not extend his hand.
Bannister saw a slight frown on Florence Marble’s face, as if she resented Cromer’s slight, and he was gratified. “How’s the ditch digging?” he said pleasantly to Cromer. There was no reply, and Florence smiled back as they moved away.
As Bannister went down the outside steps from the refreshment stall, a figure stole away into the shadows behind the pavilion.
Chapter Four
When Florence Marble asked Bannister to take a special job without knowing what it was to be, she really had him guessing as he had said. And when she hinted that he might be taking more chances than he thought, it clinched his acceptance. Now, as he strolled down the street toward The Three Feathers, he pondered the matter in an effort to come to some conclusion. But the more he thought about the matter, the more mysterious it became. He finally decided that she was worried about something, that she wanted him to find out something for her. Well, he was sure of one thing; he was ready and willing to do anything she might ask of him. He let it go at that.
The Three Feathers resort, of course, was thronged. The tables, wheels, and other gaming layouts were going full blast. The bar was lined three deep. Bannister had an eye out for Le Beck, but his gaze was arrested, not by the notorious gunman, but by Howard Marble, who was playing at one of the poker tables. So here was another form of dissipation that the boy had learned.
Bannister moved over near his table in time to see Howard lose a large pot after having shoved in a tall stack of chips. It was plain that the youth was not a piker. And, as Bannister watched the game, it was also plain that Howard had to have good cards to win. The finer, scientific points of stud were not within his ken apparently. Then, too, it was evident that the game was plentifully supplied with house boosters.
Howard’s stack of checks steadily dwindled until but a few reds remained. He spoke to the dealer. “Can you put somebody in this chair to hold it until I go get some more money?” he asked.
The man in the slot nodded to a man behind Howard. The boy got up and the man slipped into the chair to hold it against his return. The dealer passed him a moderate stack of checks.
Howard pushed past Bannister without seeing him and picked his way out of the place with Bannister following. Up the street they went until the dance pavilion was reached. Bannister was of the opinion that Howard was going to get money from Florence Marble. But this did not prove to be the case. He saw the youth coming out of the hall again with Cromer behind him. He barely had time to step into the shadows when they were down the steps.
“Here’s two hundred,” he heard Cromer say. “You can give me the slip tomorrow.”
Bannister followed Howard down the street, thinking rapidly. Cromer was getting a hold on the boy by lending him money. Why? Because, indirectly, he might be getting a hold on Florence, also, or, at least he was cementing the boy on his side in any project he might have in mind. He remembered the look the man had given him and scowled darkly. He increased his pace and overtook the youth in front of the hotel.
“Wait a minute, Howard.”
The youth whirled, startled, but when he saw who it was, he smiled and greeted Bannister cheerfully enough.
“Come in the hotel. I want to ask you something,” said Bannister, taking him by the arm. He led him through the lobby into the deserted parlor, where a lamp burned on the table.
They sat in chairs, facing each other, and the boy was frowning. Evidently he suspected something unpleasant and did not relish the interview.
“Howard, how much do you owe Cromer?” Bannister asked pointblank.
The boy’s eyes widened and the red gathered in his cheeks. Then his eyes flashed. “What do you know about it?” he demanded hotly. “Are you spying on me?”
“No, I’m not spying on you,” said Bannister, shaking his head. “Or, you can call it spying if you want. But I saw him give you that two hundred you’ve got in your pocket now, and I’ve got a good reason for asking you how much you owe him. Don’t you think you can trust me? How much?”
“Eleven hundred dollars,” said Howard slowly, as if he were awed at the size of the amount for the first time. Bannister reached into a pocket and drew forth roll of yellowbacks. He counted out eleven of the bills and put them in Howard’s hand.
“Now go pay him and get your slips,” he said as he put the roll back in his pocket. “And that two hundred in your pocket is from me.”
The red returned to Howard’s cheeks. “Why, I can’t do that, Bannister. I can’t take your money. Cromer understands it’s just a loan. I’ve
a small herd, and, when I ship in the fall, I can pay him back.”
“Well, you can pay me back, can’t you?” demanded Bannister.
“I know, but . . . it’s different. And you mightn’t be around, or something.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be around,” Bannister assured him. “Your cousin offered me a job out at the Half Diamond tonight and I took it. That’s why I want you to pay off Cromer. I don’t think it’s a good idea to be borrowing big money outside the outfit.”
“You’re coming out?” exclaimed Howard, his eyes sparkling.
“I won’t come if you don’t pay off Cromer,” said Bannister. “And I’m going to hang around up there and hear what he’s got to say. I reckon, Howard, he just wants you to keep on owing him that money for some reason or other. Did you ever think of that?”
The boy’s brows gathered in a frown. “Might be,” he muttered. “He started it by offering me a stake in the first place.”
“Well, pay him off,” said Bannister, rising, “and then you’re not under obligation to him. And don’t think you’re cutting me short any, for I’ve got more juicy kale than you could throw a rope around.”
“Maybe I hadn’t better take this two hundred,” said Howard in indecision. “I’ll only go back into the game.”
“Try the wheel a while,” Bannister suggested. “Maybe it’ll change your luck.”
* * * * *
Bannister was again in the shadows at the side of the pavilion when Howard came out with Cromer.
“You’re a fast worker,” Cromer was saying. “You must be betting them high to lose that two hundred so quick. Don’t go too swift. Well, how much do you want now?”
“I’m settling,” replied Howard. “Here’s eleven hundred. Give me the slips.”
There was a pause of several moments. Then came an easy laugh from Cromer. Bannister, listening in the shadows, didn’t like the laugh any more than he liked the voice.
“Oh, a winning, eh?” said Cromer. “You must have bet the works. Well, that’s all right, boy. There’s no hurry about paying that money back. Don’t worry. Everything’s all right and you can have more if you need it. Go back and play some more. Play your luck while you’ve got it.”
“No,” said Howard stoutly. “I want to settle and I want to settle now. Here’s the money, and give me my slips, and we’re even.”
The boy’s tone evidently convinced Cromer, for he took out his wallet and handed over the I.O.U. slips, accepting the bills in return. “Remember,” he said artfully, “any time you’re short, you know.” His tone was as good as a hint and a promise.
When Cromer had gone, Howard found Bannister and pressed the $200 in his hand. “I’m going in to dance,” he announced. “Maybe I’ll have better luck on the Fourth of July.”
Bannister went back down the street and for the second time that night a figure darted from the shadows behind him.
That’s number one, Cromer, he mused to himself.
There was no more gambling for Bannister this night. Having accepted a post with Florence Marble, he decided that his holiday was over. He had had enough of the smoke-laden air, the smell of kerosene lamps, the curses and shouts and ribald laughter, the clink of glasses, the crowding, the tense moments of card play. He looked up at the stars and breathed deeply, for Bannister was essentially a man of the open.
There were groups of men in the street indulging in drunken arguments, groups of stockmen talking cattle, groups of cowpunchers from different outfits renewing acquaintanceships. Bannister wondered, idly, if any of the Half Diamond outfit were in town. But if there were, he would not know them.
He walked on down the street, past the flaming resorts and cafés, past the improvised hot dog stands, past the darkened blacksmith shop to the edge of town. Here the street became a road that pierced the cottonwoods along the stream and led eastward toward Marble Dome and the Half Diamond. He paused, breathing in the pure, cool air, baring his head to the whispering prairie breeze. Suddenly his sixth sense of the open, that subtle instinct that is the heritage of those who are range-born and reared, caused him to whirl about.
Four figures had stolen from the shadows. He had just time to whip out his gun when they were upon him. He swung the heavy barrel about and felt it crack upon a head or jaw. One of the figures went down. He reeled from a blow on the head from behind, but in staggering forward he struck out with all his strength with his left and another of the attackers sank to the ground.
He turned on the two behind, swinging his gun viciously. They stepped back and he leaped after them. Recovered from the blow he had received, he was quick as a cat, fighting like a tiger there in the semidarkness. His gun found its mark again. There was a cry of pain, a curse, and a man sank to his knees. But the other two men on the ground had recovered.
Bannister edged away, trying to keep them in front of him. Two of them dashed at him from either side. He met the one on the right with his left and a smash of his gun. It settled him. The other ducked and kicked.
“You dog!” gritted Bannister through his teeth. He was on the man in an instant like a fury, beating him down, laying him out cold.
He whirled, and there was a burst of flame almost in his face. Then his own gun spurted fire, and his assailant tumbled backward, fell, and lay still. The other two were on their feet, and the trio, apparently not knowing who had been shot, took to their heels, with Bannister dashing after them.
They dodged behind the buildings up the street, with Bannister keeping well in the shadow behind them. He saw them pause and enter a small building by the rear door. When he reached it, the door was closed and locked.
He stood for some moments, breathing hard. Then he sheathed his weapon and walked around through a narrow space between the buildings to the front of the building the trio had entered. Emblazoned on the wide window in gilt letters was the sign: MARBLE DOME LAND AND IRRIGATION COMPANY.
Bannister smiled grimly. A hunch is as good as a mile, he mused, and I had the best of them by a mile at the start.
There was no light in the front office. The men were in a back room. I’ll take a look at that fellow up the road, he decided.
He hurried back down the street to its end and reached the scene of the encounter. There he lighted matches and looked about. But he could find no trace of the man who had gone down at the flash of his gun. He had either walked or crawled away.
“Just nicked him,” said Bannister aloud in disgust.
Chapter Five
Bannister walked hurriedly up the street, proceeding straight to The Three Feathers. He strolled about the tables until he caught sight of the man he was looking for—Le Beck. Then he left the place. He hadn’t believed anyway that the gunman had been one of the four who had attacked him. Le Beck would do his fighting with his six-shooter, and, being a gunfighter of caliber, Bannister doubted if he would attack a man in the dark from behind.
Having satisfied himself that Le Beck had not been involved, he strolled back to the hotel. He had no interest in the trio secreted in the rear of Cromer’s irrigation office. They were merely tools; he might never see any of them again. It was what their attack signified that interested Bannister. That they had acted under orders from Cromer was all too apparent by the fact that they sought refuge in his office. It was plain that Cromer didn’t want him around. He had doubtless instructed the quartet to beat him up and tell him to clear out. The man who had fired the shot had either been frightened or had deliberately disobeyed orders.
Bannister decided that Cromer had learned—from Florence Marble, or from some other source—that he was taking a job with the Half Diamond. It was possible that he suspected that Howard Marble had obtained the $1,100 from Bannister. He must have learned of Bannister’s championing Howard’s cause the night before. In any event, Cromer didn’t want him around, and that was enough to cause Bannister to stay, even if it were raining bullets.
After a quiet smoke in the lobby, Bannister went upstairs to bed. Th
e strains of the pavilion orchestra came to him on the cool breeze that stirred his window curtains. He dropped off to sleep, thinking of Florence Marble and a pair of hazel eyes under a wealth of copper-colored hair. A whim, perhaps—for Bannister had never considered himself romantic.
Everyone, it seemed, except himself, slept late the next morning. The dance hadn’t broken up until dawn; the games had run all night, and some of them might keep on running all day. He ate breakfast in a deserted dining room. Then he looked in on his horse and strolled down the street. There was a chance Cromer might be about. It was after 8:00.
When he reached the office of the Marble Dome Land and Irrigation Company, he found his surmise well-founded. Cromer was inside at his desk. Bannister opened the door and entered.
“Good morning, Mister Cromer,” he said cheerfully. Cromer looked up quickly and his customary expectant look immediately changed to a frown.
“’Morning,” he said. “Was there . . . something?”
“Why, yes,” said Bannister amiably, settling himself in a chair across the desk. “I wanted to see you about something.”
“I’m very busy,” said Cromer gruffly. “I’ve got to get up to the project.”
“Just so.” Bannister nodded. “Up and doing. You have to be, I reckon.”
Cromer compressed his lips, shook his head impatiently, and then looked at Bannister keenly. “What do you want to see me about?”
“Well, this irrigation business,” said Bannister, taking out tobacco and papers. “I made some money at the tables yesterday and they tell me your stock is a good proposition.”
Cromer’s face was a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions. Surprise and suspicion vied for the most prominent expression. “Where’d you hear that?” he asked, though the question sounded foolish.
“Oh, here and there,” Bannister replied easily. “You know how you hear things . . . bits of conversation, comments, and one thing and another when you’re playing cards and there’s a crowd around. As I say, I made a little money yesterday, and . . . it’s ten dollars a share, isn’t it?”
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