It astonished her to find that Nick received the news quite calmly; she had expected an outburst, which would only have made her furnher inclined to engage the man. Drait divined this.
`What's his name?' he asked, .and when she told him, shook his head. `Maybe a newcomer, an' honest, which might account for Cullin wantin' to get rid of him,' was his caustic comment.
By the time Sudden had returned to the bunkhouse Mary was facing her husband; she never found it easy to speak to him.
`Yorky thinks that Lamond is staying in the country to kill you,' she said.
`Do you also believe that?' he asked.
`I don't know,' she replied dully. `Any savage act of revenge seems possible in this land without law.'
`Revenge, yeah, naturally he'd hate me for beatin' him up,' Nick mused. `An' success would convert you into a most attractive widow. Have you thought o' that?'
The blood burned in her cheeks. `Obviously,' she cried sarcastically. `Why else should I be warning you?'
`I've had no encouragement to think you'd be sorry.' `Have I any reason to be?'
`Mebbe not,' he said slowly, `but mistress o' the S P, even at the cost o' bearin' my name, in secret, is better than bein' Bardoe's--toy. I'm obliged for yore warnin'.'
He went, leaving her angry, perplexed, but silenced. His last words, brutally blunt, were nevertheless true; looked at in that way, she ought to be grateful. Passionately she told herself she was not.
In the morning, Yorky convoyed his new boss and Lindy to the S P. Again they found a visitor waiting, but this time it was a sturdily-built, blue-jowled cowboy, with a craggy face in which the only distinguishing feature was a pronounced cast in one eye. This was Cullin's man, Sturm. Leaving Mary to speak with him, Yorky made for the bunkhouse, eager to inspect his new quarters.
He was about to push the door back when a sneering voice came from within:
`I tell you, hombres, eet weel be easy. Lamond say dees gal know no t'ing of de ranch beesness. She wed give us de feefty bucks a mont'. She young, pretty, an' weel be lonely; een a leetle time, I sleep at ze ranch-house.'
The listener slammed the door back and stepped in. The five men sitting at the table rose to their feet, staring at him.
Tomini, you are a filthy, foul-mouthed liar,' Yorky said, with deliberate stress upon the epithets. `Pull yore gun.'
The half-breed's eyes grew ugly. He knew he had been overheard, and that this would ruin his plans, unless ... He folded his arms, keeping his hands well away from his oelt.
`I do not war wit' cheeldren,' he said loftily.
`No, women are yore mark,' the boy retorted. `Do I have to slap yore face, you spawn of an Injun?'
The bitter taut had the desired effect, but not quite in the expected way. The man's right hand flashed up from his shoulder and down again. Only just in time Yorky caught the gleam of steel, snatched out his gun and fired. The heavy throwing-knife fanned his cheek as it passed to bury several inches of its blade in the jamb of the door. Tomini, reeling under the shook of a bullet in his shoulder, and mouthing curses in his own tongue, was fumbling for his pistol.
`Freeze!' Yorky barked. `Th' next slug goes through yore gizzard.'
It was at this moment that Sturm, followed by the breathless girl, appeared; they had heard the shot.
`What is happening?' she cried.
Nothin'--now, ma'am,' Yorky told her, as he shoved a cartridge into the empty chamber of his weapon. He was seething with anger. `This yeller-bellied son of a bitch called'--he hesitated--`me names, an' I don't take that from nobody. Then he threw a knife an' I winged him.'
He pointed to the weapon and Mary shivered. Violence seemed to pursue her.
`But why should he abuse you?'
`Heard 'em plannin' to sting you for a ten bucks a month raise all round. Lamond put 'em up to it.'
A tiny crease showed between her level brows at the mention of the cowboy. She looked at the sullen faces of her outfit, decided that the situation was beyond her, and turned to Sturm; `Are you prepared to start at once?'
`Shore. I fetched my warbags along--hopin',' he replied. `Want I should handle this?'
`Yes,' she said, and to the men, `This is my and your, foreman.'
The newcomer wasted no time. 'Yo're fired,' he said to the half-breed, who, nursing his damaged arm had slumped down on a form. `Git yore hurt fixed, an' travel.' To the other four, the pay is forty per; any o' you honin' to go with this fella?'
All were silent; it was months yet to the Fall roundups and work would not be easy to find.
`.Right, now listen to me,' Sturm went on. `Do yore job an' you'll find me not difficult to git on with, but I won't stand for quarrellin' an' gun-plays.' He swung on Yorky. `If yo're in this outfit, make a note o' that.'
Yorky looked him straight in the face, his eyes hot. `You can go plumb to hell,' he said, and walked out of the bunkhouse. He had gone but a few yards when Mary caught him up. Her distress was evident.
`I'm sorry, Yorky, he shouldn't have spoken like that,' she began.
`Yo're shoutin',' he replied roughly. `I ain't goin' to be bawled out afore the outfit by any cock-eyed cow-wrastler that ever wore shoe-leather. I'll get back to the Valley; I on'y make trouble. I reckon yo're no good at choosin'.'
`What do you mean?'
`Sturm ain't straight.'
`You say that because he comes from the Big C.'
`No, ma'am. I've met plenty crooks, an' I say th' same if he stepped right outa Paradise; there's mean blood in him. He's comin' now--to soap me over.'
Another moment and the man was with them, a smile on his lips. `I guess I gotta 'pologise,' he began. `I've bin diggin' the facts outa them dumb-heads an' it 'pears the Greaser was lettin' his tongue wag putty scand'lous 'bout you, ma'am, an' our friend here told him what he was--made it plain too. Tomini buzzed a knife, an' if this young fella hadn't bin almighty slick with a gun he'd be lyin' back there with his face split open; as it was, he come close to losin' an ear. Seein' he was just bein' loyal to his boss, I'm eatin' crow. No hard feelin's, son.'
Yorky shook the extended hand, but without enthusiasm, and the foreman beamed. `Good. I'll git back an' giv them loafers somethin' else to think about.'
`So that was it?' Mary said softly. `You risked your life for my good naine. Do you still think I'm a bad chooser?'
`Yeah, Sturm knowed he'd got off on the wrong foot,' the boy persisted.
Mary smiled. `Stubborn as Sam Pavitt, they used to say of my grandfather I've been told. Yorky, if Sturm is not honest, I'll need you all the more.'
Chapter XII
BOTH Sudden and Yorky ate at the ranch-house that evening. Despite a harassing day, the girl seemed in better spirits, and her husband too appeared less constrained than usual in her presence.
`So you got yore foreman,' he remarked.
`Yes,' she replied. `He seems--capable.'
`An' Jim was right about the Greaser?' He read her reproachful look at Yorky. `Oh, he didn't blab; I heard from Lindy, an' she got it from Milton. I guess. Ain't it true?'
`Yes, Mister Green--'
`That shore makes me feel like a stranger,' Sudden said.
`Well, Jim then,' she smiled, `sized the creature up correctly. Yorky was--fine.'
Drait's harsh features softened. `You two fellas are pilin' a debt I can never pay,' he said gruffly.
`Shucks!' Sudden protested, and the pair of them had the air of criminals caught in the act.
Nick, who knew exactly how they felt, switched to another subject. `Have yore range combed an' cattle gathered,' he advised. `Then brand the unmarked beasts an' count 'em. I guess Gilman was more than careless thataway.'
The talk drifted. Mary told them she was taking Lindy to town in the morning to buy things for the house, and her sparkling eyes showed that she was looking forward to the essentially feminine delight of shopping. Her companions, all of whom had seen big cities, knew that she was due for a disappointment.
`Don't exp
ect too much,' the nester warned. `Midway is a one-hoss, an' mighty near a one-store town, 'cept for liquor.' `Which is not on my list,' she laughed, and then, `Which is the best store?'
`There ain't any best, but Pilch will give you a square deal,' Nick replied. `He's one o' my few friends in that dump.'
She thanked him with a smile, and after that he was content to leave the conversation to the others, though his gaze was never far from her. In truth, he was trying to convince himself that this really was the girl he had wed. The slimness was still there, but the curves of her figure were fuller, more alluring; the delicately-tanned cheeks had a bloom, and her voice was low, lacking the bitter note he had come to expect. She had a disturbing beauty, new to him.
As the visitors strolled back to the bunkhouse, Sudden heard the full story of the happenings at the S P. `Yu got off better'n yu'd a right to,' was his comment. `Didn't yu know a Greaser allus carries a sticker back of his neck or under an armpit?'
`I was watchin' his gun--shore oughta knowed when he folded his wings,' the boy said ruefully.
`Yo're a quarrelsome young devil,' Sudden admonished. `Keep a hold o' yourself tomorrow; the third time can be unlucky.'
Back in the ranch-house the nester was talking to himself as he undressed; `Pore kid. She's never had money to spend on the things women prize. Mebbe, someday--But hell, she hates me anyway.' Nevertheless, as he flung himself on the bed, his last
waking thought was that one word, `Someday,' and then, being a healthy animal, he dropped into a slumber which was dreamless.
**
Yorky swung his team with a flourish as he pulled up in front of the ranch-house, where Mary and the Negress waited. `You Yorky, drive'm kearful now,' Lindy urged. `Dere's no hurry--we sho' got time a-plenty. If I gotta meet ma Maker, I aim to be in one piece.'
`That goes for me too,' Mary smiled, as he helped her into the vehicle.
`Never had a complaint from a passenger yet,' Yorky said boastfully.
The black woman's face split into a wide grin. `Must allus 'a' druv a hearse,' she said.
A low laugh came from the veranda. `Best not argue with her, boy,' Drait said. `She's a woman, bound to have the last word.' He waved his hat as the buckboard shot away.
With Yorky exercising unusual restraint, the journey proved uneventful.
As they drew up outside the bank, Mary became aware of a horseman reigning in, and a voice said, `Well, if I'm lucky.' She looked up into the smiling face of the Big C rancher. `I was over to the S P, on'y to learn they weren't expectin' you. So yo're givin' Sturm a try-out?'
`Yes, and thank you for sending him,' she replied. `He seems capable.' It was the description she had given Drait, she recalled.
`If he's not, send him packin'--don't hesitate,' Cullin said heartily. `I've found the job, but it's up to him to keep it.' He made no reference to the affair with the half-breed, but she saw him studying Yorky interestedly. Then his glance went to the bank, and he laughed. `Easy to guess yore errand is to get rid of money.'
`Quite correct,' she told him. `I'm going to find out how much I can afford, and spend it; the list of things I must have is simply terrifying.'
`Don't hope for much beyond the barest necessities,' he told her. `Midway is far from civilisation, an' freightin' an expensive business. When do I see this paradise you'll make at the S P?'
She turned starnled eyes on him. `Oh, it won't be ready for ever so long.'
`Then I gotta be patient, which isn't my habit,' he said, in a low, meaning tone. `Well, mustn't delay you. Good huntin'.' He rode on down the street, nodding to passers-by, and thegirl watched uneasily. For no definite reason she wished they had not met.
When Cullin arrived opposite the sheriff's quarters he became aware of that officer beckoning to him. He rode over, got down, and entered. `Well?' he asked.
`A chance to hit at that cursed nester,' Camort said.
The rancher's lips curled disdainfully. `I'd 'a' thought you were tired o' swallowin' the dirt he feeds you.'
`I'll never git tired till he's under the turf,' came the vicious answer. `It's like this, Greg
`When did I give you leave to use my front name?'
The sheriff swallowed hard. `Fancied we was friends.' `Fancy is misleadin'. I employ you, that's all. Go on.'
`There was a ruckus at the S P yestiddy,' Camort continued sulkily. `One o' Drait's men shot up Tomini, who hadn't reached for his shootin'-iron. He swears this fella was fetched over no get him. We could charge the gal an' the gunslinger with attempted murder.'
Cullin clenched his fists to keep his temper under control. `Listen to me, you idiot,' he rasped. `The Greaser was befoulin' the reputation of a lady, his boss. Taxed with it, he threw a knife an' got shot. The on'y mistake the lad who downed him made was not killin'. Now, go ahead with yore fool case an' I'll bring five witnesses to prove the truth.'
The sheriff's eyeballs bulged; active opposition was the last thing he had expected. Disappointment and anger nerved him. `Well, if you want I should lay off Drait, I ain't carin',' he said.
The rancher leaned forward, tight-lipped. `You can do what you please with the nester an' I'll thank you, but raise one finger against Miss Darrell or the S P an' I'll take the hide off you with a bull-whip; that's a promise.'
He stalked from the office, leaving a well-nigh paralysed man floundering in a mental mire. It was some time before he arrived at a satisfactory solution: Cullin not only coveted the ranch but the woman who possessed it. With a long-drawn whistle, the sheriff got out his makings and tried to roll a cigarette. His shaking fingers tore the paper and spilled the weed. Flinging them aside, he stood up.
`Better warn the Judge,' he concluded.
Towler was draped over a chair, snoring raucously; as usual, he had gone to bed early that day instead of the night before, and was not too pleased to have his slumbers disturbed. `Oh, it's you?' he growled. `What's the bad news?'
`Cullin is mad,' the visitor said.
`What about?'
`I don't mean thataway--just plain loco.'
`That isn't news,' the jurist said disgustedly. `We all are--must be to stay in this God-forgotten hole. I take it he turned down your stupid plan and forgot to thank you.'
The ironic reminder stirred the sheriff's bile. `I'm gittin' mighty tired o' bein' bullied by that fella,' was his answer. `Did you say as much?' Mildly.
`No, but I've half a mind
`Don't boast, Camort. Well, well, only my joke, but have you considered your chance of retaining your position--you were not elected for life--at least, we'll hope not.'
This could be taken in two ways, one sinister and the other unflattering, and neither added to the sheriff's ease of mind. But it made him think. Perhaps the `old soak' wasn't quite the fool he had imagined.
`You have lost the support of the S P, Vasco made his attitude very plain, and Bardoe is not pleased with the publicity you provided,' the Judge went on. `Quarrel winh Cullin and where are you to look for honey? Is your popularity with the townsfolk growing?'
"Bout keepin' step with yore own, I guess,' the officer replied, with a flash of insolence. It was a sore point that of late he had to pay for more of his liquor.
`Then it is on the down grade,' Towler returned equably. `But my post is different, in that it does not depend on the favour of the populace.'
`If the Governor knowed what' He stopped abruptly.
`If,' the Judge smiled. `A remarkable word, Camort; it sug
gests so many things. If, for example, this town knew how
much Cullin and Bardoe paid you to help Gilman escape ...' The sheriff started. `That's a secret, of course,' the other finished, and then, sharply, `Enough of this. What I am trying to get into your thick skull is that if you fall out with the Big C you're finished. On the other hand, with Drait out of the way, and Cullin in the saddle at the S P, he'll call the tune and Midway will dance. If you've helped him, Camort ...' He rose and picked up his hat. `Talking is dry work
. The drinks are on you--for awaking me.'
That evening the sheriff left Midway to the care of itself and his deputies without informing it or them of his intention. In fact, he waited until dusk enabled him to leave unobserved, and then set off in the direction of Rideout. After covering something less than a couple of miles, he turned into a narrow path
* some text missing here - Camort meets Gilman and Tomini*
`I weel revenge myself,' the man said darkly.
`Well, here's yore chance; the chap who drilled you was sent by Drait, probably on purpose. How's yore wing gettin' on?'
'Ver' good,' Tomini replied. `Ze slug bre'k no bone. Een a week, I shoot.'
`Who's this jasper, Sturm?' Gilman asked.
`Dunn. Greg provided him, part of his plan. I s'pose.'
`Huh!' the late S P foreman grunted. `Other folk can make plans.'
`That's so, but his come off an' theirs don't,' Camort replied pointedly. `Think it over, boys, an' please yoreselves.'
Chapter XIII
ONE afternoon a week later, Sudden suggested a visit to Vasco, whom they had not seen since the trial. Nick agreed, and they set out, unaware that keen, vengeful eyes were on the watch. The owner of the Double V welcomed them cordially, and his Texas foreman also nodded a welcome.
`Anythin' I can do?' Vasco asked.
`Mebbe there is,' Drait replied. `I'd like you to tell me, man to man, how you feel about Shadow Valley bein' occupied?'
`This is thirsty weather,' the rancher said. `Let's irrigate.'
In the cool of the front room, they sampled their drinks, and rolled smokes. Then Vasco resumed the conversation:
`yores is a fair question. Rawlin was just a nester, knowin' little about cattle, an' ownin' none to speak of. It seemed likely he'd help hisself to some of ourn, so I throwed in with the other ranchers. I suggested he be bought out, we puttin' up the coin an' holdin' the valley as our joint property. That warn't popular, and anyway, he wouldn't sell, so they tried somethin' else, as they did on you. I'm askin' you to believe that I knew nothin' o' the killin's until after; it's God's truth.'
`I'm takin' yore word,' Nick said quietly.
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