At this moment the orchestra began playing.
“I believe I have this, Virginia,” Wessel declared, touching her arm.
“Oh, you can let it go, Chester,” said the girl. “I believe I’ll dance with Mister Davitt. Horned toads from Texas are such a novelty.”
“What you told him squelched him plenty, Miss Virginia,” said Davitt as they swung out on the floor.
She found out at once that he was an excellent dancer. “I believe you misunderstood the nature of my remark, Mister Davitt,” she said with dignity. “It is not necessary to squelch Mister Wessel and what you said was rather rude.”
“I’m sorry, but I hope Chet Wessel won’t begrudge me this dance, Miss Virginia. It is more of a pleasure than you think, and I am very grateful.”
“That’s a pretty little speech,” said Virginia. “How did you learn my first name?”
“I took care to make discreet inquiries the moment I set eyes on you,” he said in her ear. “It goes without saying that you are easily the glorious star among the girls present, although that may sound commonplace. I’m going further afield, Miss Virginia. You are one of the most beautiful young women … you’re more than a girl … that I ever saw, and I’ve covered considerable territory. I bullied Buck Granger into our introduction and I can’t remember offhand that I ever did such a thing before.”
“I’ll have to accept the compliment, Mister Davitt,” Virginia said, and smiled. “After all, Chester Wessel has told me the same thing.” She was pleased, nevertheless, and he sensed it.
“Chet has been away to school, hasn’t he?” asked Davitt politely.
“He graduated this spring from the University of Minnesota,” was the girl’s reply.
“Oh, yes. Agricultural, isn’t it? By the way, did he ever mention that he had read The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire?”
“Why, no,” she answered with a quick look of surprise.
“Well, I have read it,” Davitt announced. “I’ve had to depend upon books for my education, mostly. I knew the instant I saw you that you would have a pretty name and I can’t help calling you Miss Virginia. Rear names are often so common.”
“Yours isn’t so common, Mister Davitt. I’ve never heard it but once before.”
“Was it a hanging?” He arched his brows.
Virginia indulged in an undignified giggle, then flushed as she realized it. “You don’t talk so bad,” she said in a patronizing tone. “And you don’t look so terrible.”
“I always try to dress, and look, and talk my best when in such company,” he told her stiffly.
“For a man of your … ah … profession, I should have expected to meet a much rougher character,” she said. “To be perfectly frank with you, Mister Davitt, I decided to dance with you because I was interested.”
“In me or in what you call my profession?” he asked quickly.
“I’ve never met a professional man hunter before,” she replied slowly. “If you are the man I think you are, I will tell you that the only time I heard the name before tonight was when my father told me he was expecting a man of that name to do some … some work for him.” She was looking at him closely as the music came to a stop.
“In that case, you will perhaps talk with me a little,” he said. “I don’t believe I care to dance with any other girl tonight. Let’s go to the refreshment booth and have a cool soda or lemonade.”
They took their tall glasses out on a small balcony at the side of the hall near the rear. A breeze was whispering in the cottonwoods, and the starlight, filtering through the branches, scattered diamonds among the trees. Several other couples were on the balcony, standing close, talking in subdued tones with occasional ripples of laughter.
“You are the daughter, then, of Graham, the banker?” Davitt asked pleasantly. “By banker do you mean faro or mortgages?”
“I’ll overlook that thrust, Mister Davitt,” the girl retorted with a trace of anger in her voice. “My father is the president of the bank in Milton, and he is generally respected.”
“No doubt,” Davitt said with a shrug. “My father banked faro and was killed because he stuck to a square box. There are different kinds of banking, of course.” He saw Virginia bite her lip as if she regretted her hasty speech, although he had given her just cause to be irritated. “Did your father say why he had sent for me?”
“So you are the man!” She looked at him curiously. “He said he expected you to hunt down the outlaw they call the Crow who robbed the bank. He told me not to tell anyone, and I don’t believe anyone knows, outside of mother and me and a few of the bank directors and the sheriff. Your coming is supposed to be something of a secret.”
“It still is, unless you give me away, Miss Virginia. No one knows me up here. I met Buck Granger riding in. He only knows my name. Still, I don’t usually work in secret.”
“You seem young for such a dangerous business,” she observed.
“And your conjectures seem too mature for your years,” he responded. “I didn’t intend to interject that angle of myself … my personality … into our talk. You know I have to make a living.”
She drew away from him just enough so that her move was perceptible. “Will you pardon me if I ask you if you are what they call a paid gunman?” she said rather timidly.
He laughed. “When I sell my services, my gun goes along with ’em,” he answered. “What you really wanted to ask me is if I’m what they call a killer, isn’t that about it?”
“I understand you have had to … to …” She couldn’t get the word out as she caught the look in his eyes.
“Yes … to prevent being killed myself,” he supplied. “In a way it isn’t a business with me, although I charge plenty. I think I’ll accept this assignment out of pure deviltry.”
“Deviltry?” Virginia’s surprise showed plainly in her eyes.
“Yes,” said Davitt soberly. “I’m anxious to match wits with the Crow. He’s dangerous and he’s clever. I’d rather match wits with him than match guns. In either case, I think it would be a fifty-fifty match.”
Virginia decided she liked his eyes best when he was serious. For that matter he was dangerously good-looking, and he did have an interesting personality. She spurned the idea that his profession, as she thought of it, might appeal to her romantic fancy. But he fascinated her, in a way, and she found herself thrilling at the thought.
“I suppose the nature of your business makes an impression on the girls you meet,” she said, and instantly regretted her words.
“Not if I can help it,” he said. “Usually they … don’t know.”
“Then you’re not proud of it?” she hastened to say.
“Is your sheriff proud of his job?” asked Davitt tartly.
“I suppose I don’t know what I’m talking about, Mister Davitt. It’s the words man hunter which I don’t like. Father used it as if you should be held in awe. You don’t seem so fearful to me.”
“I thank you for saying that, Miss Virginia.”
Davitt turned as a man came up to them and saw Chester Wessel.
“Really, Virginia, I gave up the last dance,” Wessel said, with a cool look at Davitt. “Unless you want to miss this one …”
“Why don’t you introduce me to your friend, Miss Virginia?” said Davitt, smiling at the girl.
Virginia hesitated while Wessel frowned as if he had been affronted. “This is Mister Davitt, Mister Wessel,” she said hurriedly.
“Pleased to meet you,” Wessel said, extending a cold hand.
“You naturally would be,” said Davitt, gripping the hand in fingers of steel. “How’s the cow business up in these parts?”
“It’s better than no business at all,” Wessel snapped. “If you’re ready, Virginia, we’ll go in and dance.”
“Go right ahead, Miss Virginia.” Davitt nodded affa
bly. “I’ll see you again, of course.”
The girl gave him a stare, and then turned away with Wessel, without speaking, and joined the couples who were leaving the balcony.
Davitt finished his drink alone, his eyes coolly contemplative as he gazed through the branches at the starlit sky. He put his empty glass beside Virginia’s on the balcony rail and rolled and lighted a cigarette while the dance went on within the hall. He had hardly time for two or three puffs when Buck Granger joined him.
“How’d you make out?” asked the cowpuncher. “What’d you say to Chet Wessel? He’s dancing with Miss Virginia and his face is chiseled into a terrible scowl. Looks like he’s arguing with her, but it isn’t getting him anything, if I’m any judge.”
“He would do that,” said Davitt thoughtfully. “He’s that kind.”
“Well, if you’ve decided to woo and win the gal, don’t let any worry about Chet keep you awake nights,” drawled Buck. “He hasn’t been around much the last few years and he calls her by her first name because he went to school with her. You’ve got clear sailing, if you’ve got money and also social position somewhere besides in Texas.”
Davitt chuckled. “I like you, Buck, because you’ve got a sense of humor,” he said, sobering.
“I’d sure need it if I traveled with you much,” was Buck’s comeback. “Anyway, you had the grand dame listening and that’s a start.”
“Maybe that’s all it will be,” mused Davitt. He looked out on the dance floor and plucked at Buck’s arm. “Look, they’ve stopped dancing. Who’s that bull they’re talking with?”
Buck looked and smiled broadly. “That’s the keeper of the mortgages and no less,” he announced. “I reckon he’ll be looking you up. Well, it looks like a warm summer, Mel, old boy. I’ll see you later.” With this, Buck swung over the balcony rail, grasped one of the supports, and dropped lightly to the ground, leaving Davitt alone.
Chapter Five
Davitt studied the banker from the shadow of the balcony. He had been told by Graham’s relative that the man was powerful, a clever and capable financier, firm in support of his own opinions, bold and unchangeable in his decisions. He had a strong face, and his clear, cold eyes impressed Davitt most.
Sylvester Graham and his daughter sat down on the opposite side of the hall from the balcony and Chester Wessel started in Davitt’s direction. Davitt muttered something in an annoyed tone, and then followed Buck’s example by swinging over the balcony rail and dropping to the ground. But this was merely to avoid Wessel, for Davitt walked around to the front steps that lead to the hall. Here he hesitated, considering the advisability of returning to the dance floor to ask Virginia Graham for another dance later in the evening. He pondered the matter just long enough to permit Graham to conclude his talk with his daughter. He heard a heavy tread on the stairs and turned just in time to meet the banker’s eyes as the latter looked up and down the street. But Graham must have recognized him in the brief glance by the description Virginia had undoubtedly given him.
He strode up to Davitt. “Is your name Davitt?” he asked.
Davitt bristled instantly at the tone of the banker’s voice. What was more, the look in Graham’s eyes was not precisely one of welcome.
“It might be,” he answered coldly. “It would depend to some extent on who wanted to know.”
“No doubt,” grunted Graham. “Huh, I am Sylvester Graham, president of the State Bank of Milton, and if you’re the Davitt I’m thinking of, it was your duty to report to me immediately on arrival.”
“I came here to see a man named Graham,” drawled Davitt, “and he is a banker. But I don’t usually report for the first time after business hours.”
There was disapproval in Graham’s eyes. “I’m the man you were to report to, I expect,” he said crisply. “You heard my name. Have you a letter addressed to me?”
“Why, yes … now that I think of it,” replied Davitt. He brought a sealed envelope from the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to the banker. “These are my credentials. I happen to know you’re Graham, or I wouldn’t hand them over so easy.”
“I have an appointment with Sheriff Drew,” said Graham tartly, taking the envelope. “Suppose you go along with me to see him.”
“I can spare half an hour,” Davitt said dryly.
It was a matter of minutes before Graham, Drew, and Davitt were seated in Graham’s private office in the bank.
“Do you make a practice of transacting business in this office at night?” asked Davitt, after the banker had formally introduced him to Sheriff Drew.
“It is the only office I use,” Graham snapped. “Isn’t it good enough?” It was not for personal reasons that he disapproved of Davitt almost at first sight.
“Nice office,” said Davitt, “but it seems dangerous to me for you to be going in and out of the bank at night. Suppose somebody followed you going in or stopped you going out?”
“Humph,” grunted the banker with a look at the sheriff. “No one comes in or goes out of here except on business. I look out for that, young man.”
“Well, the Crow had business here and that’s a fact,” Davitt observed.
Graham’s face darkened while the sheriff looked at Davitt with new interest. “That remark was uncalled for,” he said. “Youth isn’t able to distinguish between a joke and an impertinence. Your credentials are all right, but I’m not sure you’re the man for this case.”
“You want to be sure before you engage me,” said Davitt. “There are certain rigid stipulations that I make before I undertake a case.”
Sylvester stared at him. “Such as what?” he blurted.
“For one thing I require a retainer fee,” said Davitt pleasantly. “That is usually a first preliminary.” He took out the materials for making a smoke.
“You want to be paid in advance?” gasped Graham.
“Partly.” Davitt smiled as he rolled a cigarette. “Enough to show good faith on the part of my employer. Who would I be working for in this case … the bank or the county?”
“Both!” Graham exploded.
“The bank,” the sheriff corrected.
“In which case I should have to have a thousand dollars before I took much interest,” Davitt announced, striking a match on the bottom of his chair.
“That settles it!” exclaimed Graham. “I pay no man in advance. Why, there’s ten thousand dollars reward offered for the Crow, dead or alive.”
“That wouldn’t do me any good if I was to be found dead instead of the Crow,” said Davitt coolly. “I’ve made considerable money at this business, if you want to call it that, by operating strictly on a business basis. That should appeal to you.” He nodded gravely at the banker who sat as if stupefied.
“And what do you guarantee in return for the thousand dollars?” asked the sheriff curiously.
“To start to work in my own way within twelve hours and to clean up the matter as soon as possible, if possible,” was the answer.
“Business!” snorted Graham. “Do you call it businesslike to pick up with an irresponsible cowpuncher on your way to town and then go to a frivolous … to a dance before you even report to the people who were thinking of acquiring your services?”
“Were thinking, do you say? If you’ve given up the idea, there’s no sense in my taking up any more of my time here.” Davitt rose. “Of course, I shall have to charge you with my expense in coming here, since you sent for me.”
“Sit down!” roared Graham, pounding the desk with his right fist. He cooled as Davitt resumed his chair. “This is preposterous,” he said, fussing with some odd papers and straightening the ink stand on his desk. He turned to Sheriff Hal Drew. “You’ve had experience with range operatives, have you not? Does this fellow impress you as a man who could get the Crow?” His lips tightened as he put the question.
“Why not?” the s
heriff countered blandly.
“I’ll tell you why not,” Graham said, frowning at Davitt. “In the first place, he’s too young. This Crow is a seasoned outlaw and a desperate man … a killer, in fact. When he pulled his gun in here and I called him a blackguard and a thief and a murderer, he passed over it like so much water running downhill. He makes no pretense of being anything else. He …”
“Did you know just how bad he was when you called him those names?” Davitt interrupted.
“No man can come in here and rob my bank without getting my opinion of him!” thundered Graham.
“Well, he got about seven thousand dollars a word for what you called him,” drawled Davitt, “so I reckon he figured he could afford to pass over it for the time being. But you’re luckier than you think, because you don’t know just how bad the Crow can be.”
“I suppose you ought to know,” Graham said sarcastically. “Have you ever met him?”
“Oh, I’ve played cards with him,” replied Davitt, offhand.
“You hear that, Sheriff?” Graham said to Hal Drew. “He’s run around with such fellows. That’s why he wants a thousand in advance. He’ll take the money and light out and we’ll never see him again. Later on, he’ll probably tell this very outlaw about the trick he played.” He glared at Davitt. “So far as the bank is concerned, I’m through.”
“Well, I’m not,” Davitt said, with an icy edge to his voice. “You opened your mouth too wide just now to suit me. It just happens that I didn’t know the Crow at the time I played cards with him and you asked me if I had seen him. That’s a sizable charge you just made, and I can prove it by the sheriff. I have something of a reputation for being on the square. If I just wanted a thousand dollars, I’d charge you that sum for coming up here, and I’d get it. He paused long enough to nod and gaze a few moments at the banker from between narrowed lids.
“You might as well tell the sheriff all of it,” he went on, with a glance at Drew. “You’re sore because I busted into that dance, got an introduction to your daughter, brushed young Chet Wessel aside, and danced with her. Whatever she told you, I don’t know, but you don’t want to let any social ambitions warp your business judgment. I always keep the social side separate from the business side.”
Three Trails to Triangle Page 4