Vasco looked relieved. `You ain't a Rawlin,' he went on. `If you aim to raise cattle in the valley an' outside, well, it's free range, with plenty room. Yore beasts'll get mixed with Big C an' mine, but that's no reason for not bein' good neighbours.'
'I'll shake with you on that,' Drait said, and did so. When he spoke again, his voice was harder. `That don't go for Bardoe an' Cullin, you understand.'
`Bardoe is a rustler,' Vasco replied sternly. `Yeah, we found the Double X crinters you spoke of'--this to Sudden--`But I wanta catch him in the act o' blottin' the brands.'`It'll save argument,' Sudden agreed.
`Shore thing,' Vasco replied. `As for Greg, he's got some big ideas but I don't like his methods, an' I've told him so.' `He's bein' friendly just now,' Nick smiled. `Offered to buy the Valley, at my figure.'
Vasco whistled. `The devil he did. Then keep yore eyes peeled, an' remember you got friends at the Double V.'
`Which is worth ridin' a long way to hear,' the nester said heartily. `An' it goes both ways, you savvy.'
Draft's too-frequently saturnine features wore a smile of satisfaction as he and his companion headed for home. `It was a lucky day when you found them rustled steers an' put Vasco wise,' he remarked. The odds against me were five to one, an' now they're three to two, leavin' out the S P.'
`Gilman got away, an' Lamond hasn't skipped.'
`That's so, but they dasn't show theirselves, an' can't do much alone.'
Just as the nester spoke, a flash of fire darted from the brush about a hundred yards ahead and something tugged at his hat. Then the crack of the exploding cartridge came to them.
`C'mon,' Sudden cried, and swinging his horse, dashed for the nearest bank, forced the animal up the incline and vanished amid the foliage. Drait followed, but not before another slug whined past his ear.
`That came from fifty feet further along,' the puncher informed. "Pears there's a pair of 'em. Gotta hide the hosses first.'
A jutting outcrop of rock provided the necessary shelter, and having securely tied the animals, they grabbed their rifles and crawled to a spot which afforded a clear view of the depression. A wisp of smoke hanging in the still air, showed whence the second shot had been despatched. The nester was examining his headgear ruefully.
`She was a perfectly good lid,' he said.
`Still is--what's a coupla ventilation holes, anyway,' his friend consoled. `Good thing you ducked though.'
Draft stared, saw the grin and joined in. `Ducked? Shore, I allus do when I see lead comin'.'
Prone on the ground, cheeks cuddling rifle-stocks, they watched; nothing happened.
`Think they've dusted?' Nick asked.
Waitin' for us to move,' the puncher said. `We'll give 'em a mark to aim at. If they bite, shoot twice, right and left o' the smoke; s'pos'n the fella dodges yu may nail him thataway.'
He found a rock and lobbed it into a bush some six yards to their right. Instantly, from across the hollow, guns blazed, three of them, the bullets shredding the shrub to which the missile had given movement. The ambushed pair returned the fire, and lay close. More shots followed, this time whistling a foot or so above their heads, and bringing down twigs and leaves. Sudden noted, with a grim smile, that only two of the unknown were now shooting.
`Third hombre seems to have got into the game a bit late,' he remarked.
`Yeah, an' by the look of it one of 'em has got out early,' Drait replied.
They lay there, lynx-eyed, but the peace of the place remained unbroken. Then came the hoot of an owl, followed by another.
Sudden laughed. `A signal, an' the jasper who gave it is goin' to be worried at on'y gettin' one answer.'
`Yo're right, Jim. There he goes to investigate.'
At the spot whence the furthest marksman had been shooting, a branch shook, and a little to the left tall grasses swayed; since there was not a breath of wind this meant someone or something was on the move. The keen eyes of the plainsmen tracked the tell-tale signs along the face of the slope to where a second gunman had been hidden. Then Drait's rifle barked viciously, twice, and the movement became more violent, taking an upward direction towards the rim where there was thicker cover. The cattlemen caught fleeting glimpses of darting forms and pumped lead persistently. A savage curse floated back, and stillness came again.
`Any luck, d'you think?' the nester asked.
`No sayin',' Sudden replied. `Better stay put for a space, it may be a dodge to draw us out.'
They smoked and waited. Presently, at the far end of the bowl, two riders burst from the brush and spurred their mounts madly in the direction of Midway. One of them had his head swathed in a bandage and was rocking in his saddle. Nick swore.
'Hell'4 bells, that's Beau--I'd know his hors anywhere. An' the other is Gilman. Where's the third?'
`We'll go find him, guess we needn't to hurry though,' the puncher said sardonically.
They got their horses, crossed the hollow, and soon found what they sought. Sudden had guessed correctly; there was no need for haste. Behind a bullet-riddled bush lay the figure of Tomini, face downwards, his rifle beside him. Apparently he was dead, but when Sudden turned the body over, to reveal a spreading crimson stain above the heart, the eyes opened, and the pallid lips framed two whispered words, `Steenker--Cullin.' Then the head rolled sideways.`So now we know,' Drait said.
`Yeah, but what we say he said don't prove a thing.'
`That's so. Well, I was goin' to leave him here, but I got a better idea. We'll tote him in for the sheriff.'
They found the dead man's mount nearby, slung the limp form across nhe saddle, and secured it with his own rope. A search of the pockets produced nothing but a few coins and the `makings.' They started out, the half-breed's horse tugging back on its lead.
It was a long, tiresome journey, and night was spreading its blanket over the town when they arrived. Naturally, their gruesome burden aroused interest, and a crowd followed them to the sheriff's office, the lighted window of which only served to deepen the darkness. Drait rapped with the butt of a gun and reined back, leaving the led horse well to the fore. Camort opened the door, and gave one look, and with evident satisfaction, cried :
`So you got him, huh?' Noticing the two riders, he added, `Where Tomini?'
`Right under yore nose,' Drait replied sternly. `Whose corpse were you hopin' for?'
The officer's eyes having adjusted themselves to the gloom, he now became aware of the onlookers. He had to think fast, and that was not one of the things he did best. However, inspiration came.
`I figured my boys had fetched in Gilman--they bin out lookin' for him half the day.'
A sneering laugh from one of the crowd greeted this explanation. `Yore boys come into Merker's this arternoon, too tight to talk, an' are there yet, sleepin' it off.'
Camort had the hide of a horse; a mere insinuation that he was lying could not penetrate. Flattering himself that he had redeemed his bad break, he remembered he had a duty to do.
`I wanta know how this come about,' he said, pointing to the corpse.
`Yo're goin' to,' Drait assured him. `Tomini an' two others waylaid me an' Jim in Little Basin. They missed--there's a coupla holes in my hat to prove it warn't by much--an' we had an argument. The Greaser got the worst of it, an' his friends 'peared to lose their enthusiasm. One of 'em was Beau Lamond.' `I ain't seen him for a week or more,' Camort said.
`Then you musta bin blind drunk night afore last, for you were drinkin' with him in Pinto Pete's,' an onlooker contradicted.
`That is a--'
`What?' The speaker stepped into the light, a huge fellow, well over six feet, with the thews of a giant; he was the Midway blacksmith. He could, indeed had, slain a man with a blow of his fist. The sheriff wilted.
`I'd forgotten, Jules,' he hastened to say. `Fact is, I'm still a bit hazy 'oout that evenin'.'
`The other fella was Gilman,' the nester went on.
The sheriff blundered again. `Who's left the country,' he jeered.r />
`Yet you sent yore deputies to search for him?'
`I was told he'd gone, but I wanted to make shore. That's why I was s'prised when I thought they'd got him.'
`Not surprised--delighted, because you figured it was me bein' brought in,' Drait corrected. `Don't lie any more, but listen : any further attempts o' this kind an' I start gunnin' for you right away; yore star won't save you. Tomini hadn't cashed when we reached him, an' he talked.'
Camort trembled. `I had nothin' to do with it,' he protested. `All three o' these hombres had somethin' agin you.'
`Tomini talked, Stinker,' Drait repeated grimly. `You've tripped up again an' yore boss won't be pleased. Tell Gilman an' Beau--who will have his head tied up--that I'm shootin' on sight. C'mon, Jim, let's go.'
They swung their horses round and disappeared into the darkness, leaving a most uncomfortable peace-officer with an unwelcome corpse, a few sceptical spectators, and a gnawing fear in his mind. How much had Tomini `talked'?
Chapter XIV
AT the S P the routine of ranch life was being resumed. The excitement of arranging her new home over, Mary began to take an active interest in the outside work. Here she found Yorky invaluable, for though he was far from being the complete cattleman, Sudden and the Circle Dot outfit had taught him a great deal, and his sharp wits enabled him to apply his knowledge. So the girl was in a position to tackle her task not entirely as a novice.
`That lawyer chap at Rideout must be either dumb or crooked to let these figures get by,' Yorky remarked.
They were examining Gilman's record of expenditure; the book was an amazing specimen of inefficiency or carelessness, to put it mildly. There were no receipts, dates often omitted, and payments made without any reason being given. All the riders appeared to have drawn `advances' but there was nothing toshow these had been repaid. A constantly recurring item was `Stores,' always purchased--as Mary had already learned from Milton--by the foreman.
`An' if he spent forty bucks an' charged fifty, nobody's any th' wiser,' Yorky pointed out.
The girl was studying the book with knitted brows. `It seems no me that none of the outfit is entitled to wages for at least a month,' she said.
`I wouldn't gamble on that, ma'am,' he replied. `They all say Gilman was easy to deal with, allus ready to make an advance, but he never forgot to deduct it on pay-day. I'll bet he pocketed those repayments, an' with full wages entered agin his name, how's th' hand goin' to prove he made 'em? Either Seale never saw this book, or he was gettin' a rake-off.'
`But he's a lawyer.'
`Th' more a fella knows 'bout the laws th' easier for him to break 'em.'
`I'll destroy the wretched thing, start another, and keep it myself.'
`Don't you,' Yorky urged. `Take care o' that book; there's evidence to send Gilman to th' pen for a long spell.'
`But I've no wish for that. It's clear he robbed the ranch, but he did not know I existed.'
`He did his durndest to get an innocent man strung up for rustlin',' the boy reminded. `An' failin', tried to bump him off.'
`What do you mean?' she cried.
Yorky had ridden into Midway that morning, where he heard various versions of the bushwhacking episode, and from them had gleaned a fairly accurate statement of the facts. White of face, she listened to his bald recital, and in a voice which had a strain of harshness, gave her decision:
`I will put the book in a safe place.'
`There's another reason for keepin' it. You ain't had yore bill from Seale yet, have you?'
`Why, no, but--'
`Mebbe if you ask him to explain it, he'll take a more modest view of his services,' Yorky grinned. `Life's a game, an' you can't afford to throw away good cards.'
She laughed too, and shook a finger at him. `You are older than your age.'
`I growed fast--fella had to where I was raised. Don't you
trust th' law-sharp, ma'am. Jim reckons he's a twister.'
`And Jim is always right.' In a tone of gentle raillery.
`Shore thing,' Yorky said stoutly. `If he said I was a waster, I'd believe it.'
`I'm not saying a word against your Jim--I owe him too much. I only hope he approves of poor me.'
`I'll say he does, or you wouldn't be here--Jim don't help th' wrong 'uns,' Yorky asserted, and then frowned in perplexity. `But he helped me, an' I was pretty ornery.' His face cleared as he arrived at a solution. `Reckon there's a spot o' good in me I don't savvy.'
He went out, unmindful of the fact that her eyes were moist. The thought of the bushwhacking chilled her blood. Two inches lower and Shadow Valley would have lost its master, and she.... No, that was unthinkable--horrible.
Sturm, when she informed him of her decision about the ranch accounts, looked somewhat glum. `Meanin' you don't trust me?' he asked bluntly.
`Certainly not,' she replied. `You have enough to do, and I need something to occupy my own time. One thing more : I want to know how much stock I have. Please have the cattle collected, counted, and properly marked.'
Yorky had told her, `rounded up, tallied, and branded,' but nervousness in giving the first real order to her foreman brought forgetfulness. Sturm received the suggestion without enthusiasm.
`That's a big job, ma'am, an' we ain't got the men to handle it,' he objected. `Likewise, with the Fall round-up due in a few months--when it'll have to be done again--it shore looks a waste o' time. You ain't crowded here, the grass is good, an' stock not liable to stray. I'm advisin' you to wait; in the meantime, the boys can carry strait irons, an' watch out for unbranded beasts.'
`I'll think it over, Sturm,' she said, and went to where her pony was waiting.
The morning ride was something she would not willingly miss.
She did not ride far, however, confining her excursions to an area within easy reach of the ranch-house. Frequently, after traversing a shaded aisle, or emerging from a brake, she would come upon groups of long-horned, fierce-eyed cattle which scattered at the sight of her, but putting into practice Yorky's advice to `edge up on 'em like you wasn't interested,' she was able to make out the brand. On this morning the discovery of several on which it was missing brought Sturm's suggestion to her mind again. She must have another opinion.
Returning to the ranch-house, she saw the foreman conversing with a visitor; it was Cullin. Sturm led her pony away as she greeted the rancher.
`Just had to come,' he said. `Seems a long time since I saw you.'
`But it isn't,' she protested.
`I said "seems," ' he reminded. `My, but the air up here certainly suits you.' The warmth in eyes and voice told her it was no empty compliment, and the flush it caused added to her charm.
`A hard-working cattle-woman has no leisure for pretty speeches,' she said lightly. `A little advice would be more acceptable.'
`About countin' yore stock? Yeah, Sturm mentioned it'peared uneasy at havin' to oppose you. But he was right, you know.'
`If I haven't the hands now, I shan't have them in the Fall,' she argued.
`Let me explain,' he said. `For the Spring an' Fall round-ups the cattlemen work together, arranging the time far each ranch. When yore turn comes, you will have two riders from the Big C, Double V, an' 8 B. In return, you will help them out the same way. This saves all of us the trouble an' excuse o' takin' on extra hands for short periods. Of course, if yo're set on it, I could spare--'
`No, I see it is unnecessary,' she interrupted. `I should have had more faith in my foreman.'
`Well, he might have made it clearer,' Cullin excused. `He's mighty anxious to please you an' I envy him the opportunity.' She ignored that, and he went on, `House open for inspection yet?'
There was no escape. `The sitting-room is presentable,' she admitted.
They went in, and, as at Shadow Valley, he was struck by the neatness, taste, and comfort. The furniture he had seen before, in the former owner's time, out now it was polished until it shone; a large square of carpet hid the board floor, dainty curtains
draped the long glass door leading on to the veranda, and a sheaf of flowers--the waxen blooms of the Spanish bayonet--decorated the taole. Cullin sank into one of the roomy chairs.
`Wonderful!' he said, and it was evident that he meant it. `You mustn't give me all the credit,' she said earnestly. `Aunt Lindy helped enormously.'
`I'm not interested in Aunt Lindy,' he replied.
Mary repressed a smile; the Negress felt that way too. His eyes followed her covetously as, remembering her duty as hostess, she produced whisky, a tumbler, and water.
`This was the easiest bit of our shopping,' she laughed. `I was cautioned that no ranch-house would be complete without it.'
`Must 'a' been a cattleman or a saloon-keeper who said that.' He helped himself and lifted the glass. `Here's--my love to you.' Her swift gravity warned him, and he hurried an excuse. `That's a common toast to the ladies where I was raised; don't you like it?'
`No,' she said.
Curiously enough, her prudishness pleased him; here was a woman worth winning. `I haven't had much to do with yore sex,' he told her. `You must forgive me if I blunder sometimes.'
He looked so crestfallen that her smile came back. He went on to speak of the great cities he had seen, the crowds, hustle and bustle, the big stores, and places of amusement.
Having created the desired impression, he took his departure. From his saddle he smiled down upon her. `You must show me yore range. I'm a lonely man, an' it does me good to talk to you.' Without waiting for an answer, he rode away.
Recalling the conversation, Gregory Cullin chuckled several times. He was, in fact, entirely pleased with Gregory Cullin, and also with Mary Darrell. Why he, who had always despised women, should now so passionately desire this one, he could not explain. But he knew it was so, and that there was no length to which he would not go.
`Blast those clumsy fools,' he muttered. `Two inches lower....'
Shortly after Cullin left, the S P had another visitor. Mary, day-dreaming in a chair on the veranda, awoke to find her husband regarding her quizzically.
`Runnin' a ranch shorely keeps one on the jump,' he said.
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