Sudden Plays a Hand

`I'm mighty obliged to you all,' Nick said quietly.

`Glad to see you clear of a nasty mess,' the banker said. `If you hadn't thought of keeping those numbers....'

`I didn't,' came the candid reply. `That was Jim's idea.'

`A very good one,' Seale complimented. `It wrecked the prosecution, and exposed a very shabby rogue.'

`Yeah, but what we didn't learn was the name o' the bigger rogue who put him up to it,' Pilch said meaningly.

`That may come out at the trial,' Cullin replied carelessly. `He's the sort to squeal.'

`There'll be no trial,' Nick asserted. `He'll get away.' `They dasn't let him,' Pilch cried.

`They dasn't keep him,' Drait contradicted.

The Big C man laughed. `You may be right. Anyway, he'll be no loss, an' we are to have a charmin' substitute. Any harm in sayin' that now, Seale?'

`No, everything is virtually settled,' the lawyer said. He looked at Drait. `I shall be at the S P in the morning. Perhaps Miss Darrell would like to come over and inspect her property?'

The nester agreed that it was likely, and the matter having been explained to the other men, further congratulanions were forthcoming, to be carried to the lady. Nick cut them short by suggesting an adjournment to the saloon :

`I wanta find out what I owe, an' add to it,' he said.

On the way, Cullin fell in beside him. `If yo're gettin' rid o' Shadow Valley, gimme first offer, an' make yore own price,' he murmured.

`I'm not sellin'--at any figure, an' I'm not leavin' it,' Drait replied shortly.

Which was precisely the answer hoped for.

Chapter XI

THAT same evening the nester and his wife discussed, for the first time, the impending change. He had given her a brief account of the proceedings at Midway, but without revealing the gravity of the peril to which he had been exposed. Drait did not conceal that Cullin had taken his part.

`So you were wrong about him?' she said.

Not any,' Nick replied. `He was grand-snandin'. Towler was givin' the game away, an' the boys were getting wise. It was a smart move, but it don't razzle-dazzle me. I'd bet a blue stack he's behind the whole dirty business.'

His apparent ingratitude appeared unnatural, but she said no more. The news that he would remain in the valley, Ieaving her free to go to the S P, came as a relief, and produced no protest. If her evident eagerness to get away from him hurt, he did not show it.

`You'll need a woman in the place,' he remarked. `Better take Lindy.'

`Isn't there a cook at the ranch?'

`Yeah, one o' Sam's riders who got too old for the saddle, but he'll be no good alone.'

She gave in. Truth to tell, she did want the Negress, but would have died rather than ask for her; the prospect of going to the S P lacking a friendly face had been more than daunting.

`Then there's a foreman,' Nick went on. `I can spare Quilt--for a time, anyway.'

`No,' she said sharply, and when his eyebrows went up, `I prefer to give orders, not take them. I can find someone; if he knows his work, that's ail I require.'

`Gilman knew that much,' he reminded. `Trouble was, he didn't do it.'

`There was no-one in charge,' she argued. `Men are all alike--they only need the opportunity to go off the rails.'

This bit of wisdom--a blow at himself--brought a smile.

`Shore, it's a wicked world,' he said. The men are devils an' the women saints--mebbe. I'll trail along with you to the S P.'

`There is no necessity,' she replied coldly. `Mister Seale will be able to explain everything.'

`Seale knows little about the cattle business; don't trust him too much; yore appearance was a disappointment, remember.'

Instead, she recalled what Cullin had told her, and shrugged impatiently. `Is there anyone you do not suspect?'

`Mighty few,' he agreed. `We'll take Lindy with us--one o' the boys can drive her over; she'll see what is wanted to make the place comfortable.'

Mary knew she was being unreasonable, that the arrangements were sensible and for her welfare, but they chafed. Unconsciously, she thought aloud :

`Thank Heaven, I shall soon be able to do as I please.'

The stark exultation in her voice, coupled with an utter absence of gratitude, roused within him a fierce impatience. `No matter where you are, you'll still be my wife,' he said sternly. `If ever you forget that

`You will shoot me, of course,' she retorted hardily.

The spirit of anger had passed, leaving a cold grimness infinitely more sinister. `You wouldn't be worth the cost of a cartridge,' he said deliberately. `But I should shorely kill the man.'

He went out. For long she sat staring into the blazing logs, and, despite the heat, she was cold--inwardly. He would keep his word, for if she allowed him only one virtue, it was that. She was alone, save for Lindy, who almost worshipped her master, she had no friend. Her thoughts veered to Cullin, so different from her husband, kind, considerate, and more polished. No doubt he could be forceful, even ruthless--men had to be in that only semi-civilised land--but she did not believe he was responsible for the outrages in Shadow Valley. He had promised to help her. Comforted by the remembrance, she crept away to bed.

In the morning they set out for the S P, Yorky driving Lindy in the buckboard, escorted by the girl, Nick, and Sudden, on horseback. They found the lawyer awaiting them on the veranda, in conversation with a little, old, grey-bearded man. He greeted them cordially, and when they had dismounted, swept an arm around.

`Well, Miss Darrell, there's your domain,' he said.

She gazed at him, big-eyed. `Do you mean that I possess all this land?' she cried.

Seale smiled, and shook his head. `No, you actually own not much more than the buildings occupy, but you have priority grazing rights for many miles about, which is all you need.' He beckoned to the bearded man. `This is Rod Milton, the cook, one of your grandfather's old servants.'

`Pleased to meetcha, ma'am,' Milton said, and then, as he saw her clearly, `Gosh! I could a'most believe it was Miss Mary back agin.'

`You knew my mother?' the girl cried.

`I gentled her first pony,' he replied. `But that was afore we come to these parts. Yo're as like her as one dollar is to another.'

`Rod was anxious about his job, but I told him you'd probably keep him on,' Seale said.

`But, of course. Lindy is coming as housekeeper, she'll need help in the kitchen.'

The little man grinned shyly as he regarded the Negress. `I don' reckon my cookin' will grade up to your'n, by all accounts, but I'm ready to larn.'

Lindy's smile threatened to absorb her ears; praise for her cooking was a short cut to her good graces. Rod had made a friend.

At the lawyer's suggestion, they went into the house. It was of fair size, consisting of the usual parlour, three other rooms, kitchen, and an adjoining shack where the cook slept. It was substantially furnished but everything showed signs of neglect. Milton read the faces of the women.

`Gilman didn't care none, an' I had plenty to do,' was his excuse.

At one room he hesitated before he opened the door. `This was Miss Mary's,' he said. `Till he passed out, the Ol' Man had it tended, but nobody never used it.'

`I can see that later,' the girl said hurriedly. The cook nodded understandingly, turned the key, and gave it to her.

When they emerged into the open again, Lindy chuckled. `We sho' got a passel o' work ahaid, honey,' she said. `An' yoh gotta spen' consid'able.'

Mary's startled gaze went to the lawyer; she had not thought of the financial side of the matter. He smiled reassuringly.

`No need to worry. The exposure of that rascal foreman saved us over a thousand dollars, and there is another thousand owed by Bardoe which we could not have had if Misner Drait had not collected it for us. It results that the ranch has now a balance of three thousand, one hundred and fifty dollars at your disposal.'

If he wanted to impress her, he certainly succeeded; it was more money than she had ever dreamed of possessing. Another thought came; that was what happened to the gold taken from Bardoe, which she had accused the nester of stealing. Sheglanced at him, glimpsed the shadow of a smile on his hard face, and looked quickly away. Seale was speaking again: `Reminds me that you're a good prophet,' he said to the nester. `Gilman broke gaol last night; overpowered, bound and gagged the deputy who brought his supper; helped himself to the keys, and walked out. They say Camort is furious.'

`He'd have to be,' Nick replied meaningly. `Well, that's one more coyote we gotta watch out for.'

Five men who had been smoking and loafing near the corral now approached, removing their hats when they saw the lady. The lawyer addressed nhem :

`Boys, this is Miss Darrell, your new owner. You will take orders from her in future.'

Four of them were rugged, hard-bitten fellows, nearing or past forty. They muttered `Howdy,' scuffed their feet, and appeared uncomfortable. The fifth was younger, and had the sallow complexion, black eyes, and lank hair which pointed plainly to mixed parentage.

'Ver' glad to meetcha, ma'am,' he said carefully, and to Seale, `Meestair Geelman, he no come back.'

`He will not, Tomini,' the lawyer replied shortly. `That's all.' When they made no move, he added,* `What are you waiting for?'

`Ordares,' the man replied, with a slinky look at the girl.

Drait stepped forward. `If there ain't any work to do on this ranch, no outfit is needed,' he said sharply. `If there is, get busy.'

The half-breed perceived that his malicious attempt to embarrass the new boss had failed signally: Nicholas Drait, whom he knew by repute, was clearly not a person to play jokes on. His companions were already moving away, and he followed.

`Any o' these fellas Pavitt's men?' Nick asked.

`No. Gilman got rid of all the old hands except Milton,' Seale informed.

`Guessed that. What do you think of 'em, Jim?'

`Pretty ornery bunch; that Greaser is a trouble-maker.'

`I'm agreein'; I didn't like his anxiety about the late foreman,' Nick said, and turned to Mary. `You'd better fire him.'

This was a chance to assert herself. `I'll think about it,' she replied.

`Worth while,' Drait returned carelessly.

After a meal which--to Milton's great satisfaction--earned a compliment from Lindy, the lawyer, Drait, and the puncher departed; Yorky remained to escort the women back to Shadow Valley in the evening. The Negress and Milton headed for the kitchen, Yorky went to unhitch the ponies and turn them into the corral, and Mary seized the opportunity to inspect her mother's room, which she had already decided should be her own.

It proved to be comfortably furnished, but the dust and decay had a depressing effect. The little chest of drawers had been cleared, but in a cupboard a few old dresses were hanging, mere moth-eaten rags. On a wall was the picture of a man approaching fifty, leaning against a fence, thumbs hooked in the cartridge-studded belt which supported a heavy revolver. From beneath the broad-brimmed Stetson keen eyes looked at her over a square, out-thrust jaw and close lips. Her grandfather. Violence, determination, self-will, she saw them all in the portrait, together with a dour, obstinate courage which would suffer to the utmost rather than give in.

Yet there must have been some underlying sense of justice in the old man, for though he would not forgive while he lived, his will showed a desire that what he had fought to create should not go to strangers. Impulsively, Mary made a mental promise to the picture, and fled from the room in a turmoil of doubt and despair.

Buried in one of the big chairs in the parlour, she strove to concentrate on possible changes there. Her mind fully occupied, she did not hear the long glass door to the veranda open.

`Well, if it ain't the Cattle Queen her own self,' said a jesting voice. `Honey, I shore am glad to see you.' She started to her feet. Beau Lamond, his hat pushed back, stood grinning at her. For a moment, surprise stilled her tongue, and then, as she realised the risk the man was taking, she cried : `You must be mad to come here. If Mister Drait sees you ...' `I seen him first, an' his bodyguard, Green,' he replied. `I scarcely think he needs protection,' something impelled her

to say.

`No fella around here wants it as bad,' he asserted. `I shouldn't tell you that, but I know you won't warn him.' `You know so much, don't you?' she said ironically.

`I know you don't care two cents about him, an' that's why I'm here,' he said, with an impudent leer. `I know now that this place is yourn, an' with Gilman on the run, you'll be needin' a foreman. How about it?'

Mary regarded him steadily, and had he been acquainted with Sam Pavitt, he would have remembered him at that moment. `There is no place for you here, and never will be,' she said coldly. `Please go.'

For an instant he did not comprehend; then the grin faded from his face and stark anger took possession. Puttin' on frills, huh?' he sneered. `I ain't good enough for you--now. Well, I'llgo when I damn please, but first, I'm takin' . .' He advanced into the room, arms outstretched, lawless desire in his savage eyes.

`I guess you'd better go, Beau,' a familiar voice chimed in.

The cowboy switched his gaze from the girl to a door leading into the house; Yorky was standing there. "Lo, kid,' he said carelessly, and with sudden venom, `Git, yoreself, or--' His hand streaked back to his gun but his fingers had no more found the butt when he saw that the boy's weapon was out and pointed at his midriff. Beau shook his head in bewilderment; he was reckoned fast, but ...

`You stopped just in time, hombre--another move an' you'd be travellin' up or down, 'cordin' to yore past life. Now march !' Lamond marched, painfully conscious of a gun-barrel nudging his ribs. On the edge of the veranda he halted, and Yorky, placing his right heel in the small of Beau's back, suddenly straightened his leg. The resulting violent thrust sent the unsuspecting victim sprawling into a patch of sand and gravel, several feet of which he ploughed up with his face. When he rose, blood trickling from his abraded features, he was, as Yorky later put it to an amused audience in Shadow Valley, `mad enough to bite hisself.' Instinctively, as he glared at the grinning youth on the veranda, his hand went towards his hip, only to halt when he recalled the swift draw which had brought about his defeat. With a volley of lurid imprecations, he flung himself on his horse and vanished in a cloud of dust.

Mary, pale and somewhat shaky, was sitting down. `Thank you, Yorky,' she said. `Did you hear why he came?'

`No, ma'am, I busted in right away.'

She believed him, which was not surprising, for Yorky was an artist. Early in his short but chequered career he had discovered that a lie, to be of use, must be accepted as truth, and he had snudied the subject.

`Fetched his nerve along,' he said. `D'you know why he's still hangin' around?'

Mary thought she could make a good guess, but shook her head.

Waitin' for a break to bump off th' boss,' was the blunt reply. `As foreman o' this ranch he'd shore get it.'

It was not the reason she had in mind, but remembering the cowboy's remark about `a bonny widow,' and Drait's manhandling of him, it appeared likely enough. The peace she had hoped to find at the S P was becoming only a doubtful possibility. She made an abrupt decision.

`Mister Drait said I could have one of the Shadow Valley outfit. Would you ride for me, Yorky?'

`Why, ma'am, I'd be proud,' the boy said. `But I gotta get back to the Circle Dot--I promised.'

`It would only be for a time, while I'm settling down,' she explained. `You see, I know nothing about running a ranch, and you could keep me from appearing too ignorant. I would like to make you foreman, but ...'

`That wouldn't do nohow--I'm too young to be givin' orders.' He saw her smile. `Shore, I gave some to Beau, an' he took 'em, but you can't be pullin' a gun on yore men allatime. I don't claim to know everythin' about cattle, but Jim'll help me; he's the fella you oughta get.'

`He'd be too good--I'd have nothing to do or say,' she smiled. `I'll arrange it this evening. Now, should I tell Mister Drait of--Lamond?' She read the reply in his blank stare of surprise. `Of course I must.'

When he had gone she stepped out and walked clear of the building, so obtaining a wider view of the surrounding counnry. Plain, forest, desert, slashed with deep gorges, amidst which wound pathways of silver. And on the far horizon, amethystine purple mountains cutting off the rest of the world.

`Yeah, it shorely is wornh lookin' at.'

Someone had spoken her own thought. She turned to find Cullin, hat in hand, standing a few yards away. Uneasily aware of her reddened cheeks, she murmured a welcome.

`Just rode over in the hope o' seein' you,' he said. `Ain't settled in yet, o' course.'

`Not until the place has been made more habitable,' she explained. `It is in a dreadful state; I would not care for anyone to see it.'

He laughed. `Which means I don't get an invite. Well, I'm beginnin' to understand a woman's attitude thataway, an' I'm havin' a sort o' domestic revolution at the Big C. That Greaser o' mine thinks I've gone loco, an' maybe he's right.'

She gathered he was paying her a compliment--that the reformation of his household was her doing. `Cleanliness and comfort surely go together,' she said.

`Not to a Mexican. His motno is "manana"--never do today what you can put off till tomorrow, or later. But I didn't come to talk o' myself. Is Gilman's place filled yet?'

`No. Mister Drait offered me Quilt, but I told him I wanted to be boss of my own ranch.'

`Shorely,' he agreed. `I've the very man for you; middle-aged, sober, level-headed, an' knows cattle. He also knows his place an' will keep it. His name is Sturm. I'll send him along in the mornin', but remember, you don't have to hire him because he comes from me; use yore judgment.'

He waved aside her thanks. 'Anythin' I can do for you is a pleasure.'

She had nothing to say to this, and he swung into his saddle and rode away. His receding figure was still in sight when Yorky came up.

`That was Mister Cullin,' she said. `You don't like him, do you?'

The boy's face took on a whimsical expression. `If I had to choose between him an' a rattler to cross th' plains with, I'd take th' rattler,' was how he put it.

Mary went indoors, trying to convince herself that he would naturally share the view of his employer. She failed; Yorky was eminently capable of forming his own opinion.

Dusk found them back at Shadow Valley. The presence of Sudden at the evening meal came as a relief to the girl, who had been awaiting it with some apprehension. She liked the puncher, and had confidence in him, though she knew that he too possessed dynamic possibilities for violence, and could be adamant when occasion demanded. The nester himself provided the opening she needed.

`I don't like you an' Lindy bein' up there alone,' he said. `No doubt Milton's awright, but he's past his prime, an' the rest o' the outfit is just guess-work.'

`Perhaps you could spare Yorky?' Mary suggested.

`Shore could, but he's kind o' young,' Drait objected. `What you think, Jim?'

`Yorky's head is a lot older than his body,' Sudden smiled. `He'd be as pleased as a pup with two tails, an' he's useful in a tight corner.'

`As I've reason to know,' Mary said seriously. `First, Bardoe, and today--Lamond.'

They listened gravely to her account, Drait's expression one of gloomy anger, Sudden's, of pride in his pupil.

`Well done, Yorky,' the former growled. `Pity he couldn't finish the job.'

`If a fella won't draw, what can yu do?' the puncher queried. `So he booted him off the veranda, huh? Wonder who learned him that trick?'

`I believe I could guess,' Mary said demurely.

`Yu'd likely be wrong, ma'am,' Sudden returned. `I started his education, but I ain't takin' the blame for all of it; them rapscallions at Rainbow took over when I left.'

`I had another visitor too--Mister Cullin; he came to offer me one of his riders as foreman.'

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 expect 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.

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.

`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.

`I've been riding, and I suppose I dozed,' she excused. `Won't you step in?'

He followed her, and gazed round with both amazement and appreciation. `Fine,' was his verdict. `You certainly have the gift.'

`Of what?' she asked.

`Home-makin',' he replied, and the look in his grave eyes brought the warm blood into her face.

`Lindy did a lot,' was all she found to say.

`Skittles!' Nick smiled. `Nobody thinks more o' Lindy than I do, but I'm wise to her limitations.' The bottle attracted his notice. `Must 'a' been expectin' me.'

`Mister Cullin called,' she explained. `He wanted to see the place.'

Drait's expression was wooden. `Yeah, he allus fancied this range,' he returned, and began to roll a cigarette.

She found herself studying him anew. He was not so carefully attired as the Big C man, nor so obviously anxious to impress, yet she was conscious that he had something the other lacked, that mysterious `quality' the Negress had spoken of perhaps; she did not know. She invited him to stay and eat. Cullin would have seized the opportunity for a compliment; Nick did the opposite.

`Shore is a temptation to sample Lindy's grub again. Not that the boys ain't doin' pretty well--considerin'.'

`I feel mean about taking her away.'

`Don't you, it's doin' us all good; we didn't know how well off we were.'

When Lindy brought in the meal she scrutinised the nester closely. `Massa Nick, yoh ain't lookin' too peart,' she announced. `I sho' hab a fohbodin' dem hellions ain't feedin' yoh right.'

'Yo're all wrong, woman,' Nick teased. `It's just grief over the absence o' my housekeeper.' He shot a mischievous smile at Mary as he spoke, and, without thinking, she returned it.

There was little conversation until the meal was over, and then he asked, `Started counting yore cattle yet?'

`I'm going to wait for the Fall round-up,' she replied, and gave her reasons. `It was Sturm's suggestion, and Mister Cullin agreed.'

`Sturm was his man,' Nick said. `Well, yo're the doc.'

`Isn't it possible you are mistaken about Cullin? He helped you, and now me.'

`Must be a change of heart; his reputation is for on'y helpin' hisself.'

He had picked up his hat, and she saw the sinister holes in the front and back of the crown. The reminder brought a look of concern which he read.

`Now what fool had to tell you?' he asked. `Cullin?' `No, I already knew. He seemed very upset about it.'

` "Disappointed" would be a better word,' Nick said harshly. `An' how did you feel?'

Her steady eyes met his squarely. `I was very glad you escaped injury.'

His grin was back. `That makes it a'most worth while. Now, remember, any time yo're in a difficulty, send Yorky, an' we'll come a-runnin'.'

He strode from the room, stepped into his saddle, and with a wave of the perforated hat, spurred across the plain.

Chapter XV

It was a week later that Gregory Cullin halted his horse outside the hotel at Rideout, and having made an enquiry, mounted to an upstairs room. He entered without knocking, and the occupant took his hand away from a gun-butt only when he recognised the visitor. He was a middle-aged man, of medium build, with a thin, sour face and restless eyes. He wore two guns, the holsters tied down. A bottle and two glasses before him.

`Well, Lukor, how's the world treatin' you?' the rancher said. Too damn seldom,' was the growled reply. He pointed to a chair and the whisky. `Help yoreself.'

`I will, but I'm really here to help you.'

This attempt at humour produced only a contortion of the close-shut, almost bloodless lips which was more like a sneer nhan a smile. `Can that kind o' chatter,' their owner said. `I never could figure you as a charitable institootion.'

`But I pay well,' the rancher retorted. He poured out some spirit, and as the other grabbed the bottle and half-filled his own glass, added, `I'd go light on that stuff.'

`Bah! It never does nothin' to me, I was weaned on it. They carried me to bed las' night, an' look.' He held the tumbler high; the liquid in it might have been solid. He gulped the greater part. `Well, what's to do?'

`There's a man in my way,' Cullin told him.

`On'y one?' the gunman jeered. `You used to be fairly handy with a six-shooter yoreself.'

`There's also a reason why I mustn't appear in this.' `Shore.' The tone turned the word into an insult.

The cattleman's patience was at an end; he did not relish. being called a coward. He stood up. `I gather you don't want five hundred bucks,' he said coldly.

The ruffian knew his man, and was not to be bluffed.

'Yo're damn right, I don't; a thousand's the lowest--take it or leave it.'

Cullin hesitated, but only as a matter of form; he was prepared to pay double the amount, for success.

`I'm takin' it, Lukor,' he said. `You come to Midway an' hang about, givin' any excuse you like, waitin' yore chance. Don't use yore own name--it might be known.'

The other revealed his tobacco-stained teeth in a wolfish grin. `I reckon. Figure I'm a greenhorn, huh?'

`The cleverest can make mistakes,' Cullin replied. 'Fella's name is Nicholas Drait, an' he's about my size, mebbe a shadebigger; a nester an' a cattle-thief. You don't like nesters, do you?'

`They ain't fit to live,' Lukor said, and spat in disgust. `Leave it to me. I'll want fifty for expenses, an' it ain't an advance, mind.'

The rancher peeled off some bills from his roll. `Needn't to rush things. It's gotta look natural, an' don't let him get his hands on you--he'd smear you on the wall.'

`If he got past a dozen slugs, mebbe,' the gunmen said scornfully. `Hell, it's good as done; you can wipe him off'n yore worry list right now.'

Cullin left Rideout immediately, unaware of a pair of youthful but sharp eyes watching from the angle of a building across the street. Yorky, having by chance seen Cullin pass through Midway heading east, conceived a desire to discover his destination. When he vanished into the hotel, Yorky followed, got into conversation with the clerk, a youth of his own age, and learned that business was bad--they had only one guest.

`Calls hisself "Fish," drinks like one, an' has all the earmarks of a gunslinger,' the clerk said.

Yorky returned to his hiding-place, saw Cullin come out, but still waited. Presently his patience was rewarded; Lukor emerged and slouched towards the nearest saloon. The watcher noted the pair of revolvers, the deeply-bronzed right hand, the ever-alert glances.

Satisfied he could glean no more he started for home, arriving there as dusk was falling. Outside the house, he met Mary.

`Why, Yorky, we were becoming anxious,' she cried. `Where on earth have you been?'

Naturally he did not want to tell, and the only plausible pretext he could think of would put the laugh on himself, but it had to be.

`All over it--the earth, I mean, ma'am,' he replied dolefully. `Guessed I could find a shorter way back an' got proper lost. Wandered about for hours--got mighty near Noo York, I reckon--an' there I was in Midway again. So I come th' old road.'

At the bunkhouse Sturm gave him a sour look. `Where the blazes you bin all day?' he enquired. `The Boss'll want an explanation.'

`She's had one,' Yorky said, and closed up like a clam.

His problem now was to get his news to Sudden; he could not ask for time to ride to the Valley. His luck was in--the puncher arrived during the next afternoon.

`Nick's so full o' the change yu've made that I just had to

come,' was his excuse to the lady of the house, whereupon she smiled delightedly and invited him in.

His eyes travelled about the room. `Shore is great,' was his verdict. `Thought Nick might be romancin' but that ain't so, an' with some flower-beds in front o' the veranda....'

`But what a splendid idea,' she cried. `Thank you.'

He shook his head. `It was Nick's notion; I'm on'y passin' it on.'

`Then you must pass on my gratitude,' she replied warmly.

He enquired aoout Yorky, and listened to the tale of his misadventure with a gravity he was far from feeling.

`He's new to these parts; might happen to anybody,' he said. As he rode away in search of the boy he spoke to the black : `Nig, a fella who can't lie for a friend, ain't much; I must remember to wise up Nick 'bout them flower-beds. Wonder what that li'l devil was doin'?'

He found the `li'l devil' forcing steers from a thorny thicket, and exuding moisture and expletives with equal frequency. He was nearing the end of his vocabulary when a low, amused voice remarked : `Mind yu don't get lost in there.'

Yorky smote an obstreperous steer on the flank with the end of his rope, and came piling out of the bush.

'Yo're th' very fella I wanted to see,' he cried, and then, as the significance of his friend's words dawned, `You didn't think I lost myself, did you, Jim?'

`Well, no, I figured mebbe there was a reason,' Sudden admitted.

`Shore is,' the boy said, and told his discovery.

`Yu done fine,' Sudden complimented. `I'm glad I fetched yu along.'

Praise from this quarter was priceless to Yorky, and having watched the black race out of sight, he murmured, `You ol pirut,' and returned to his labours quite happily.

On reaching the Valley, Sudden sought out the nester and warned him about the flower-beds. Drait regarded him curiously.

`I'm obliged, Jim; oughta thought o' that myself.'

It was not until several days later that Nick announced his intention of going to Midway; stores had to be purchased. `I was aimin' to visit town my own self,' Sudden said.

`Mebbe I can do yore errand?'

`I guess not; some things a fella's gotta do for hisself an' gettin' a hair-cut is one. But gimme a list an' I'll order yore goods.'

`Why o' course. Where's my head?'

So Sudden solved a problem which had been worrying him.For the trip he selected a mount from the corral, leaving Nigger behind. Exactly why, he could not have explained; the thought came and he acted upon it. Pilch, the storekeeper, welcomed him joyfully, and business being soon concluded, Sudden perched himself on the counter, swiped a handful of raisins from a nearby tub, and prepared to chat.

`Nick all right?' Pilch began, and when the customer nodded, "Bout time he got his rope on that gal at the S P an' won hisself a fine ranch.'

Sudden took some more fruit. `Good, these. Add a dozen pounds to our list, ol'-timer, Nick must 'a' forgot 'em; the boys like plum duff.'

`You seem partial to the plum part yoreself,' Pilch retorted, with a meaning glance at the puncher's not too small paws. `Now stop side-steppin'--you heard what I said.'

`I don't know a thing 'cept Nick ain't lost his appetite, which I'm told is a sign. Anythin' new in town?'

`A hard-lookin' stranger, mean-mouthed, carries a couple o' sixes, an' claims to be waitin' for someone.'

`An' he doesn't deal with yu.'

`How d'you--? Well, yo're right. I don't sell liquor, an' that's all he buys. Been around 'bout three-four days, an' the quicker he leaves the sooner we shan't miss him.'

Sudden laughed, purchased some tobacco, and went in search of a barber and a meal. These matters attended to, he proceeded to Merker's, failing to notice that a pedestrian had stopped as he passed, turned, and followed him. Lukor had seen the N D brand, and the somewhat sketchy description he had received seemed to fit the rider. But he had to be sure. He entered, and saw his quarry at the bar, talking to the proprietor. Strolling to an adjacent table he sat down. Merker was speaking.

`I'm tellin' you, Nick'--he dropped his voice to little more than a whisper--'is in danger; somebody's out to get him.' `Sound reasonin', but where's the proof?'

`We'll get it, but in the meantime, don't run risks.'

`Shore, they cool the blood an' hamper digestion,' Sudden smiled. `Know the genial-lookin' gent at the table?' He had noted the man's entrance in the mirror behind the bar, and recognised him from Yorky's description.

`A newcomer--been hangin' about recent.'

Lukor who had heard--as he believed--the saloon-keeper address the puncher as `Nick,' was satisfied that he had found his man. An evil grin twisted his lips as he reflected that soon he would shake the dust of this `prairie-dog settlement' from his feet, easy in mind and rich in pocket. The victim was a big fellow, but he expected that; Cullin had warned him. The two

guns brought a sneer, they were the sort of bluff a nester might put up. The low-drawn hat-brim concealed most of the face. He stepped to the bar and spun a dollar. Picking up his change plainly revealed that the little finger of his left hand was missing. Sudden's eyes narrowed. Lukor sampled his drink--a moderate one--and facing round on the company, said:

`Nesters is rank pizen.'

His raucous voice rang through the room, the buzz of conversation ceased, and every eye was turned upon him. The speaker went on:

`They digs their selves in among the ranges, which gives 'em plenty chances to steal cattle.'

This produced no result, the least interested man in the place being the one who should have resented it. Leaning against the bar, with one heel hooked over the foot-rail, he was rolling a smoke, and taking unusual care.

The gunman went on with greater confidence; it was going to be easy money.

`Sneakin' coward an' coyote--that's yore nester,' he rasped. `Any self-respectin' c'munity'd string 'em up on sight.' The savage gibe evoked no response, and he stabbed a finger at Sudden. `You agreein' with me?'

The puncher was lighting his cigarette. His mind recalled `Whitey,' a killer of the same type whom he had been forced to slay during those hectic weeks at Windy. A cold rage possessed him. This man had come to butcher, in cold blood, someone he had never seen, and for mere gain. Well, he would not act, unless he must.

`Did yu say somethin'?' he asked indifferently.

`On'y that nesters is cowardly thieves an' oughta be wiped out,' Lukor snapped.

`Mebbe yu know best,' came the mild answer. `I ain't lost any nesters.'

A tinge of red in the bully's cheeks showed that he was becoming really angry; this stupid fool was making it difficult. He must depart from his usual routine, and force the issue. `No, an' you ain't got no guts neither, you--'

With the words, he had fallen into a crouch, his right hand hovering, claw-like, over the butt of his gun. Sudden, watching the other hand, saw it drop, with the speed of a striking hawk, to the holster on that side; the weapon was clear of its container when fire jetted from the puncher's left hip and Lukor staggered. For an instant he kept his feet, and then, with a choking grunt, lurched forward, and as his knees gave, collapsed on the sanded floor, his drawn gun thudding beside him.

Sudden knelt and raised his shoulders, disclosing a gaping wound at the base of the throat. As he did so, the eyes opened, and a spark of recognition shone in them.

'Yo're--not--Drait,' the man muttered thickly. `Yo're-- The head fell to one side, and another gunman had died--as did most of his kind--`with his boots on.' Sudden straightened out the body, placed the hat over the face, and stood up.

At that moment the sheriff came bustling in, elbowed a way through the crowd which had swarmed round as soon as the shooting was over, and demanded :

`What's happenin' here?'

`Nothin'--now,' the puncher told him drily. 'Yo're in time to take charge o' the corpse--as usual.'

`I'm in time to take charge o' the killer, too,' Camort retorted. `You know this fella?'

`On'y by hearsay,' Sudden replied. `Name of Lukor--knowed too as "Finger-shy." His guns were for hire, an' there's a sheaf o' sheriffs further East honin' to hang him. His dodge was to make a show o' gain' for the right-hand gun an' usin' the left, in spite o' the missin' finger. By all accounts, it fooled a lot o' fellas.'

`An' you knew about it, o' course?' Camort sneered.

`No, he told me,' Sudden said. `You see, he picked up some change so clumsily that it was plain he wanted me to notice the crippled paw, an' I wondered why.'

`Which o' you started the trouble?' A dozen voices told him. `Awright, I ain't deaf,' he said testily.

`Why shouldn't you be?' Pilch asked. `Gawd knows yo're dumb.'

When the laughter had subsided, Merker explained that the puncher had done everything to avoid a clash.

`So Green was--cautious, huh?' the sheriff sneered. `Tried to duck out, in fact?'

Sudden looked at him, and before those frosty eyes Camort's assumed merriment died swiftly.

`Listen, yu makeshift,' the puncher said. `I didn't wanta fight that fella because I knew he wasn't after me, an' his last words proved it. When you came in just now it was Drait's body you expected to see. One thing more : yu are a liar, twister, an' a yaller dawg. Got any ideas?'

The challenged man had one--to save his skin. `I am also the sheriff,' he reminded.

`Yu'll be the late sheriff unless you get out, pronto,' was the scornful retort.

Camort looked at the stony, threatening face, then at the grinning spectators, and slunk out like a punished puppy. An ironical cheer followed him through the swing-door.

Chapter XVI

Tidings of the tragedy arrived at Shadow Valley before the chief actor returned. One of Vasco's riders had been in Merker's, and running into Shorty on his way home, told the story in detail. `An' say,' he finished, `Don't git fresh with that Green person--who shore has a most misleadin' monicker--an' handles a six-shooter like he'd cut his teeth on one.'

`Fast, huh?' Shorty queried.

`Lightnin's that, but you can see it,' the newsbringer replied. `There's nothin' wrong with my eyes, but Green's draw beat 'em. An' he had to hump hisself, that trick o' goin' for one gun an' usin' t'other was mighty bafflin'. An' that's Gawspel truth. Well, gotta be pushin' along--I'd just hate for anyone to beat me in with this news.'

`I'm aimin' to be early my own self,' Shorty grinned.

He got his wish, and by the time Sudden arrived, the story was common property in the Valley. Quilt opened the gate for him.

`Anythin' fresh in town, Jim?' he asked casually.

`Nothin' to speak of,' was the equivocal reply.

He rode on, and Quilt scratched his head. `Cool?' he asked himself. `I guess ice on him'd on'y git harder. An' he shore is closely related to a clam.'

Having unsaddled and turned his mount into the corral, Sudden was making for the bunkhouse when Drait hailed him. The nester did not beat about the bush.

`So you've been takin' my place in Midway?' he began.

`Shucks!' was the disgusted reply. `This is the most chatter-some country I ever was in. Did they tell yu I bought seegars in Merker's too? Have one.'

Nick lit up. `Then it's true?' he said.

`I dunno what yu've heard,' Sudden replied, and when he had been told, went on. `That's about the size of it.'

`How come he took you for me?'

`We're both biggish, an' I had my hat pulled down. Likewise, I was ridin' one o' yore hosses.'

Drait looked at him sharply. `Anythin' wrong with Nigger?' `I've been workin' him middlin' hard; he was due for a rest.'

`You steered me off town. Were you lookin' for trouble?' `Never had to yet,' Sudden laughed.

Drait digested this evasion in silence; he was no fool, and he knew that he again owed, perhaps his life, to this chance-met comrade.

`Jim, yo're on'y a passable liar an' Yorky ain't much better,' he said. `Don't think I ain't grateful, but this has gotta stop; I'm too old for dry-nursin'.'

`Nick, I wasn't expectin' a showdown, but I did hope to get a line on what was afoot,' Sudden said soberly. `He rushed me.' `Did you know this Finger-shy gent?'

`On'y by repute; he was just a professional killer an' crooked at that, but he was over-confident an' showed his hand too plain,' Sudden said with a sinister smile. `What about grub? I'm as empty as the sheriff's head.'

There was no demonstration when they entered the bunkhouse, nor any reference to the day's happening; with innate delicacy, the cowboys knew that taking life, even justifiably, was not a thing a man would want to talk about. Smoky just grinned and said :

`Glad yo're back for supper, Jim. Long has threatened some-thin' special tonight.'

`An' "threatened" is the right word,' Shorty supplemented. `When Long passes in his checks, someone else will oe the worst cook in the world.'

Which specimen of brotherly love restored the normal atmosphere and put everyone at ease.

Cullin called the S P the following morning, and finding that Mary knew nothing of the gun-fight, gave her the details, dwelling especially on Lukor's error.

`He intended to kill Mister Drait?' she cried. `But why, if they were strangers?'

`If,' the rancher shrugged. `I'm told that the fella talked o' bein' in Midway to avenge a sister's honour, but meobe it was on'y an excuse; his kind has to have one.'

He saw her face darken; however little a wife may care for her husband, the advent of another woman is rarely welcome. But she did not speak.

`That cowboy, Green, is a mighty good watch-dog,' Cullin continued. `He's done a lot for Nick.'

`I, also, am in his debt,' she reminded quietly.

`Same here,' he smiled. `For what he has done for you; I wish it had been my luck.'

`But you have helped, and I am grateful.'

`On'y that? Well, I mustn't be impatient, but I want you to like me very much--Mary.'

She flushed--it was the first time he had used her front name --but she affected not to notice. He left soon after, to her relief. Staring, almost with unseeing eyes, at the great panorama before her, she tried to analyse her feeling for Cullin. Did she really like him, or was it the fascination a forceful man who knew the world must have for a young, inexperienced girl? She could not decide. Admiring him, enjoying his company, at the back of her mind was an instinctive warning, vague but insistent. She shook her head and was glad to see Yorky rocketing towards her. The boy was bursting with excitement; Smoky had brought him a note from Jim, and of course, spilled the whole story.

`You heard 'bout th' ruckus in town, ma'am?' he blurted out, as he flung himself from the saddle.

`Yes,' she said. `Mister Cullin told me.'

`Cullin? Why he--was here then?' She did not notice the hesitation, due to the warning Smoky had delivered.

`Naturally,' she said, and very gravely. `It is a terrible affair; I am glad Mister Green escaped injury.'

`It'll take a damned good man to git Jim, by fair means,' Yorky replied pridefully.

`Ifhe'd done it, I'd 'a' got him--somehow.'

The hardening of the youthful face, firmed lips, and slitted vengeful eyes told that this was no vain brag. Then, ashamed of the emotion he had displayed, came the excuse, `Jim's been awful good to me, ma'am.'

`I understand,' she replied gently. `He's been awful good to me also. Someday, I hope he'll let me tell him so.'

`He'd ruther you didn't,' the boy said bluntly. `Sooner be cussed than thanked, durn him.'

`I'm afraid that's true,' she smiled. `Yorky, why did that wretched man want to kill Mister Drait? Was it because of some old score?'

`Guess not. If Lukor had knowed the Boss, he'd never 'a' mistaken Jim for him.'

`Why, of course,' she cried, and wondered at the sudden warm glow in her breast.

`He was hired for the job,' the boy went on. `An' got just what he deserved. As for the white-livered houn' who employed him....'

`It is hard to believe such monsters exist,' she said. `Do you think it might be Bardoe? They fought before.'

`Mebbe, but Smoky sez Bull would 'a' done the deed hisself an' saved his dollars.'

`I'm afraid of that man,' she confessed.

`You don't have to be, ma'am,' he told her. `We're all alookin' after you.'

`I know it,' she smiled. `I mustn't be foolish.'

When she had gone, Yorky relieved his feelings with a mild oath. Something was troubling her.

`Why didn't Nick come along here with th' outfit an' take hold for her?' he asked the world. `Stuck on showin' Midway he could hang on to Shadow Valley, I s'pose.'

Which was only part of the truth, and by no means the most important.

Chapter XVII

The extinction of a gunman as a topic of interest lasted less than two weeks, and the town resumed the uneven tenor of its way. By this time, Cullin's impatience reached its limit. He had paid several visits to the S P, only to realise that he was making no progress. The girl was friendly, but that was all, and he began to suspect more interest in Draft than she would admit; the thought made him furious. The removal of the nester was not enough; he must be discredited in her eyes. His plans were taking shape, and they carried him to the 8 B. As he rode up, two men came out, Gilman and Lamond.

`I heard you'd skipped,' he said. `Ridin' for Bull?'

`Gotta do somethin' for our chuck,' was how Beau described it. His head was still bandaged.

`A change for you,' Cullin replied. His humour generally contained a sting. `You come near not needin' any, I understand.' At that moment Pardoe came out; he had heard the voices. `What's the trouble?' he asked.

The Big C man saw that he had overplayed his hand. `Aw, forget it. Mebbe I ribbed 'em too hard; I was on'y joshin'.' It was an apology, of a kind, but two pairs of baleful eyes followed him as he disappeared into the house. His host pointed to a chair, and said, `Ain't you got more sense than to quarrel with men who might yet be useful?'

`They've bungled everythin' so far.'