When he got back to the ranch-house he found Tarman on the point of returning to town, and he suddenly decided to accompany him. Before leaving, he slipped into the kitchen, where he found Noreen alone. Her pale face and the misery in her eyes made him mutter an oath.
'Oh, what does it all mean, Uncle Job? I can't believe it,' she cried.
`There, don't yu fuss yoreself, my girl, it'll all come straight,' he replied soothingly. 'I don't believe it myself, but, for the love o' Mike, don't tell yore father that.'
To Simon himself he simply said, `Send for me if you want me, an' don't trust anybody too much.'
`I ain't trustin' out-o'-work punchers no more, if that's what yu mean,' replied Simon, bitterly.
It was not, but Leeming could hardly explain in the presence of the other guest so he let it go. As they loped along the trail to Hatchett's he put a plain question: `What's yore scheme for gettin' hold o' this feller Green?'
`I ain't got it straightened out yet--just millin' round in my head,' Tarman replied evasively. 'I reckon it will work though, an' once I get my rope on him no fool girl will be able to set him foot-loose again, an' yu can stick a pin in that.'
`Huh! I guess he'll quit.'
`Yu got another guess--he won't; I know the breed. He come here to wipe out Simon an' he'll do it.'
`But yu said he don't know it's Simon he wants,' Job reminded him.
`He don't yet, but he will,' arid Tarman grinned as though an amusing idea had just occurred to him.
The Frying Pan owner pondered on this in silence. If Tarman could contrive that Green should kill Simon and hang for it, he removed an enemy and possible rival, and would only have to wed Noreen to become at once sole owner of the Y Z. Was this the game? He determined to make an attempt to find out.
`How do yu like this country, Tarman?' he asked.
`Fine,' replied the other. `It's even better than the reports that fetched me here. Yu may as well know now as later, I'm aimin' to buy in on the Y Z an' settle down here, an' I might take on yore range too if we can come to terms.'
`I've no idea of sellin',' Leeming told him.
`Mebbe yu will change yore mind,' smiled Tarman. `If yu don't, well, I'll be tickled to death to have yu as a neighbour. Yu can see now why I'm hornin' in on this rustlin' game; I don't propose to have any damned outlaw projectin' round stealin' my cattle.'
`I've allus reckoned Norry would have the Y Z,' Job said, reflectively.
`So she will,' smirked the big man. `But she'll get me with it.' `Got that fixed, have yu?' Leeming said, a trifle sarcastically. `Not altogether, but I'm bettin' there won't be no great difficulty,' was the satisfied rejoinder. `The old man's strong for it an' I fancy the girl don't exactly dislike me.'
`Huh! Yore attitude just now warn't calculated no impress her favourably.'
`Shucks! Women like a man as is a man--they fall for the rough stuff every time; I know how to handle 'em.'
Leeming was silent for a while. He did not like the fellow, and he liked still less the idea of his marrying Noreen. If Green was right, Tarman was a scoundrel of the worst description, and in any case, he showed himself to be a conceited braggart. Job determined that the girl should not be forced into such a union if he could do anything to prevent it.
`What's Green got against Petter?' he asked.
`Oh, it's an old story--nothin' to it. Yu better ask Simon himself,' was the reply.
By the time they arrived at Hatchett's Folly Leeming had learned nothing more; apparently the big man had told as much as he wished of his plans. It was early yet for the town to be waking up for the evening diversions but there was an unwonned air of excitement; little groups of men stood in the street discussing something, and when they entered the saloon they found more than the usual quota of customers for the time of day.. It was Silas who blurted out the news.
`Say, yu heard about than feller Green?' he queried as they reached the bar, and without waiting for an answer, went on, `He's Sudden, the outlaw. What do you know about that, huh?'
Tarman stifled an oath and laughed instead. `Shucks, someone's been stringin' yu, Silas,' he said.
`String nothin',' retorted the barkeeper. `He's been recognised, an' they say that Simon has him under lock an' key at the Y Z. Tonk is gettin' a posse to go an' fetch him in.'
`Then Tonk can save himself the trouble,' said Tarman. `We just come from the Y Z, an' Green ain't there.'
`Not there, yu say?' asked the marshal, who had entered in time to hear the last few words. `But he was there, warn't he?' Tarman explained why it was no longer of any use for the officer to journey to the Y Z, and Tonk's face grew redder and redder as he listened.
`She turned him loose?' he yelled. `My Gawd, I've a mind to fetch the damned hussy an' put her where he oughtta be--in the pen. She's bruk the law.'
Job Leeming's face grew stormy. `Don't overplay yore hand, marshal,' he grated. `Green warn't the law's prisoner, so there's no legal offence in setting him free. Another thing yu gotta remember--when you have to refer to that young lady yu do it respectful, or I'll just naturally bust yu wide open.'
`An' that goes for me too,' added Tarman, with an ugly look at the marshal.
A chorus of voices endorsed the sentiment and Tonk realised that he was not adding to his popularity.
`Well, o' course, I didn't mean just that,' he said, with a halfhearted grin which deceived no one. `I own to gettin' a bit het up over the chance this town has missed. Than feller's worth all of ten thousand plunks, an' to think I've had him under my hand in this very place. Gosh, if only I'd 'a' knowed.'
`Blame good thing for yu yu didn't,' sneered Tarman. `Why, yu poor simp, if yu'd tried to arrest him, yu'd have been halfway to hell before yu got yore gun out.'
`An' that's whatever,' corroborated the barkeeper. `Look what he done to Snub. I allus had a notion he warn't just an ordinary cow-wrastler.'
`Allasame, we gotta do somethin',' said the marshal. `What about a posse to search him out, Leeming?'
But the owner of the Frying Pan was no longer there. Knowing that to save his face the officer would have to make a show of activity, and having no desire to take part in it, he had discreetly slipped out of the saloon.
Chapter XVIII
GREEN stretched out his legs luxuriously as he reclined by the little fire on the glowing embers of which was a pan giving forth the appetising odour of sizzling bacon. They had ridden hard all night, and now in the early morning had camped in a deep, wooded gully well to the north of the rustlers' hidden valley.
Keen as the air was it had a tang in it that acted like a tonic, and the cowpuncher filled his lungs and was glad to be alive. Near-by, Larry, who had gone to fill the coffee-pot at a neighbouring stream, was singing lustily:
Oh, Bronco Bill was a bold, bad man, A bold, bad man was he.
An' he could ride, an' rope, an' shoot,
An' swaller the worst whiskee. Yeah, Bronco Bill could do that last
Better'n the other three.
As he came into sight warbling this gem, the man by the fire aised a warning hand. `Hush,' he said. `Ain't yu got any sense?' The singer paused in amazement. `What harm's my singin' goin' to do?' he demanded.
`Kill all the frawgs--they'll die of envy,' replied Green solemnly, and then ducked as the boy threatened to pitch the coffee-pot at him. `Put that on the fire, yu gale-in-the-night.' Larry complied, being fully as hungry as his friend.
`Mighta knowed yu couldn't appreciate good music,' he said. `I can, that's why I'm objectin',' smiled the other. `That sliced hawg's makin' all nhe melody I want to listen to just now.'
For the next fifteen minutes both were too busy to talk. Then, bacon and biscuit having been washed down with three cups of coffee apiece, they rolled smokes and prepared to take it easy for a while.
`Gosh, this suits me,' Larry said, as a delicate ring of smoke issued from his lips. `Damn punchin' cows, I say.'
`Then yu ain't so keen on that foreman's job?' asked his frie
nd, slyly.
The boy laughed. `That's shore one to yu; first town we hit the drink is on me. We don't seem to be gettin' none nearer that foreman's job, do we?'
`Yo're shoutin',' Green agreed. 'Talkin' o' towns, where's the nearest railway point from here?'
`Big Rock is 'bout a hundred mile east, but the actual nearest is Jonesville, south, but yu gotta cross the desert.'
`Thank yu most to death, but that's the way I come.' `What we want with a town?'
`We don't want one; I do,' Green corrected him. `I gotta get a postage stamp.'
Larry looked at him; the older man's face was perfectly serious, but the boy suspected he was being joshed.
`We go together,' he said decidedly. `I'm stickin' to yu like a wart on yore skin.'
`Wart? Yu? Yo're a blister. Well, I s'pose I gotna put up with yu. As the psalmist says, "These things is sent to try us," an' by Gosh, they do.'
Larry had no answer to this and having gained his point was willing to let it go. The camp having been cleared up, they got their horses and set out for Big Rock.
`Come to think of it, this ain't a bad move,' Larry remarked presently. `It there's a posse on our trail they'll 'a' got tired o' lookin' for us time we get back, an' mebbe think we've flew the coop.'
`I was wonderin' how long it would nake yu to see that,' Green smiled. `Well, well, never yu mind; yo're young yet an' wisdom comes with years, they say.'
`Huh, somethin' has done gone wrong with the system in yore case, Methusalem,' retorted Larry, furnively jabbing his spurred heel into the flank of his friend's horse, a proceeding which caused the outraged animal to stand straight up in the air. Green, totally unprepared for such a manoeuvre, was flung backwards and nearly unseated, only saving himself by a quick clutch at the horn of the saddle. Larry gave a whoop of delight. `Yah!' he cried. `Big Chief Cat o' the Mountains, tamer of wild ones, pulls leather. Gee, Don, I thought yu could ride.'
Green was too busy to reply at the moment, but when he had restored Bullet to a proper frame of mind, and recovered the hat which had fallen off at the first jar, he told the practical joker what he thought of him.
`Yu oughta be in a home,' he said witheringly. `Not one for the half-witted--yu couldn't qualify even for that. Don't yu know yu might 'a' busted my neck, yu pie-faced idjut, makin' a play like that?'
`These things is sent to try us,' the boy quoted. `Here's a level stretch; I'll race yu to the big tree for a dollar.'
'Yu go to blazes. My hoss is all flustered up through yore foolishness an' yu want to race. Yu gotta nerve.'
`I gotta hoss too,' with a disparaging glance at Bullet. `Why don't yu use him?' came the instant retort.
Whereupon Larry surrendered gracefully, gave the Indian peace sign, and they proceeded amiably on their journey.
Big Rock, which they reached that night, had only one feature to distinguish it from any other frontier settlement, and that was the freak of Nature from which it derived its name. Thrusting up from the plain which stretched flatly for many miles on all sides of it was a great chunk of rock, bare, grey, and practically unclimbable. How it came to be there was a mystery even scientists had failed to solve; as for the inhabitants of the sordid settlement which straggled about its base, they had other things to think of. The town came to life when the railroad, hoping for cattle shipments from the big ranches, ran a branch line to the famous landmark.
Like most of the places which depended upon the cow industry, existence there was spasmodic. After the round-ups, when the herds were driven in, the place seethed with excinement, and sleep was the last thing to be thought of. The cowboys, after a long spell of deprivation and hard work, had money to spend and appetites to satisfy, and Big Rock saw that they were not disappointed. Then would follow a period of inanition, broken only by the occasional advent of a range-rider, bent on a little personal spree.
The round-ups had not yet taken place and the town was passing through one of the comatose periods when Green and Larry arrived. Skirting the station and its empty cattle-pens, they came to a pretentious two-storey board edifice which announced itself as the `Rock Saloon and Dance Hall,' and towered in shabby majesty above the squat log and adobe shacks which represented most of the other buildings. The visitors attached their mounts to the hitch-rail outside and walked in.
It was a largish room, and in the light of the oil lamps swung from the ceiling made some attempt at garish adornment. Tarnished gilt mirrors and flaming chromos punctuated the walls, and a goodly array of bottles occupied the shelves at the back of the bar, which filled the side of the room facing the door. Tables, chairs, and cuspidors were dotted about, and on the left was another opening which led to nhe dance hall. Three men were lounging at the bar talking to the fellow in charge, a heavy-jowled, red-nosed man who regarded the newcomers with a suspicious scowl.
`What yu want?' he asked truculently.
`Civility first,' Green snapped oack. `Then a drink, a meal, and a bed a-piece.'
The barkeeper looked into the slitted, boring eyes of the stranger and his own stare wavered; when he spoke again his voice had lost its edge.
`There's a restyrong down the street--we don't do meals--an' our beds is all took,' he growled, pushing forward a bottle and glasses.
They poured their drinks, and then Green said, `Gimme a sheet o' paper an' envelope.'
The bartender hesitated. `Ain't--' he began, and stopped; there was something about this customer he did not like. Ordinarily he got away with his bullying but he had an uneasy impression that this time he had picked the wrong man. He fumbled in a drawer and produced the articles asked for. The cowpuncher took them and, retiring to a table, wrote his letter and sealed it. Larry remained at the bar, coolly returning the gaze of the other three customers. He decided that if they were a fair sample of the town's inhabitants, it was a good place to keep awake in. Seeing that the letter was finished, the barkeeper, his curiosity overcoming his dislike, asked, `Want that mailed, Mister?'
`Nope,' replied the puncher, with a smile that told the dispenser of refreshment that his little ruse was seen through.
When they had departed the bartender looked at his friends. `Suthin' funny 'bout that jigger,' he remarked. `Fancy I've seen him afore somewheres.'
`He certainly has got a chilly eye,' said one. `Me, I'd sooner monkey with a buzz-saw.'
`Allasame, they'll bear watchin',' said another, a little weedy chap, with an evil glint. `I'm agoin' to trail 'em a few.'
He slipped out of the saloon and saw his quarry heading for the station-agent's, which was also the post office. He waited while they despatched their letter and then watched them enter the eating-house which the bartender had complimented with a quite unwarranted title. From there they went to the general store to supplement their supplies, for, as Green poinned out, they might have to keep clear of towns for quite a while. As they entered, another customer left, carrying a couple of vividly-labelled bottles. The proprietor of the store was enjoying a private joke.
'Dang me, if it don't beat the band,' he said. `Say, what would yu guess was in them two bottles that feller was totin' out so careful?'
`Special brand o' nose-paint,' guessed Larry.
'No, sir, but yu ain't so far out after all, he, he,' tittered the storekeeper. `It's head-paint--yes, black hair-dye--feller's goin' grey, I s'pose, an' I have to get that from Noo York for him, got a reg'lar order. No, I ain't never seen him, that's his man, comes in to fetch it. Ain't it a odd number, eh? Talk about women bein' the vain ones.'
They agreed that it certainly was singular in a country where personal appearance was not much studied. Green endeavoured, by artful questioning, to find out something more about the victim of vanity, but the storekeeper knew no more. When they had done their business and were in the street again, Larry said: `Funny idea, feller dyeing his hair out here.'
`Shore is, but the funniest part is that I recognised the messenger; he's one o' Tarman's gang,' Green said.
`Must
be for him, but he don't look a subject for premature greyness.'
`Well, it don't signify much. Point is, unless the station-agent was lyin', an' I don't think he was, they ain't shippin' the cattle from here. What in the nation are they doin' with 'em?'
`They shore wouldn't run 'em across the desert,' Larry contributed. `Why do yu reckon that booze-slinger turned hostile soon as we drifted in?'
`Dunn, but we'll go an' prospect him,' smiled his friend. `I'm aimin' to occupy a bed to-night.'
They returned to the saloon and were about to enter when Green pulled his companion suddenly round the angle of the building. At the doorway a man on horseback was bending down in conversation with a second who stood on the sill, holding the door partly open. The listeners could not hear what was said, but presently the rider waved his hand and disappeared in the gloom.
`That was the hair-dye collector, warn't it?' whispered Larry. `Yeah, an' he's give me an idea,' replied Green.
`Ain't Nature wonderful?' Larry said softly. `Here's yu, born without an idea o' yore own, an' here's fellers created just to provide yu with 'em. Hi, yu lunkhead, that's my foot yu stepped on!'
`Sorry, but yu give me the idea,' Green chuckled. `It'll be yore face next time. C'mon, yo're doin' that imitation limp real well.' `Imitation, huh?' grunted Larry. `I bet I gotta crushed toe, an' for a plugged peso I'd...'
But Green was at the saloon door, and Larry, who had no intention of letting him enter alone, followed at his heels. The place was filling up, and from the dance hall came the jingle of a badly treated piano. At the bar, talking to the tender, was the man they had seen at the door, a stubby, fat fellow, with slits for eyes and a ginger moustache festooned over a loose mouth. Green lounged to the bar, called for drinks, and then, looking the barkeeper straight in the eye, said, `Found them beds yet?'
`I done told yu already as they's all spoke for,' came the surly reply.
`Why, so yu did--I shore forgot it,' smiled Green, and turning to his friend, he added, `Now yu gotta admit I was right. Didn't I tell Joe Tarman we'd have to sleep on our saddles if we come to a one-hoss town like Big Rock, eh?'
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