“Then why’s he down here?” Danny mused. “They hate the guts of us Southern folks and I can’t see one of ’em coming down here to live unless he’d good reason. We bust up the best reason when we run Carpetbag Davis’ bunch of scum out.”
“I’ll watch him, see what I can learn. Say, how do we play this lot between you and me?”
“Just how Ella Watson wants it. I’ve been trying to make her think I’m a young hard-case with a yen for money and who isn’t too particular how he gets it.”
“You’ve done it,” Calamity told him. “I’ve got to lead you on, get you all broke and eager for more of me. Then she’ll move in, or I miss my guess.”
“Then that’s how we’ll play it,” drawled Danny.
“What’re we going to do right now?” inquired Calamity, sliding into the bed.
For a moment Danny did not reply, then he said, “Well, I have paid my ten bucks.”
“Danged if I ever afore got paid for that,” remarked Calamity.
Half an hour passed before either spoke again.
“Say, Calam,” came Danny’s voice.
“Yeah?”
“How in hell do I mark down that ten dollars on my expenses?”
Chapter 12 I WANT TO STEAL SOME OF YOUR CATTLE
BY TUESDAY DANNY FIGURED HE HAD SET THINGS up to the point where Ella Watson would make him an offer. He spent the night with Calamity on Saturday and took the girl along with Mousey and Tommy on a picnic the following afternoon. Monday evening found him in town again, watched by a worried Mousey as he spent money on Calamity and the redhead urged him to extravagance. All in all, Danny gave a good impersonation of a lovesick young cowhand making a big play for a money-hungry saloon-girl.
Ella Watson walked across the room on Tuesday evening and looked down at Danny as he sat moodily staring into a glass of beer. Knowing the signs, she came to a halt and smiled at him.
“Hi there,” she greeted. “You look like a man with worries.”
“Reckon I am, ma’am,” he replied. “Where-at’s Marty?”
“She’ll be down soon. How serious are you about her?”
“Mighty serious, ma’am. She’s a real nice gal.”
“But expensive. A girl like Marty is used to living high on the hog, Danny.”
“Yes’m.”
“Short of money, are you?” asked Ella sympathetically.
“Not short, ma’am. Flat busted.”
“The trouble is that Marty likes money spent on her,” the saloonkeeper went on, glancing to where Stocker sat by the door. “That’s the way we women are. She loves you, of course, but a girl has to live.”
“Reckon so, ma’am. Trouble being, a cowhand’s pay don’t go far.”
“I know. Well, I’ve work to do. If you want another drink, Danny, tell Izzy to let you have what you feel like and pay me back when you’ve some money.”
“Gee, that’s swell of you, ma’am,” Danny answered. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Just keep Marty happy is all you need do,” she smiled and walked away.
Although Ella did not go near Stocker, Danny saw her nod to the man and then walk into her office. A few seconds later Stocker rose and slouched out of the main doors. For half an hour nothing more happened. Danny crossed to the bar and gave the bartender Ella’s message, then asked for another bottle of beer. He took his seat again, sipping the beer and idly smoking.
The batwing doors opened and Danny saw Stocker and Soskice enter. Crossing the room, they halted at his table.
“Mind if we join you?” Soskice asked.
“Feel free,” Danny replied, glancing first at the lawyer then looking hard in Stocker’s direction. “But I thought——”
“Hell, I had to stand by Dutchy,” Stocker interrupted. “He rides for me and comes cheap. Mind, I admit he’s a mean cuss when he’s likkered.”
“Sure!” Danny grunted.
“Liked the way you handled him, though. Have a drink to show there’s no hard feelings.”
“Couldn’t buy you one back,” Danny warned.
“Don’t expect it. I know having a gal keeps a young feller short of cash.”
“It sure as hell does,” agreed Danny, wondering why the lawyer sat in on the deal and waiting to find out.
Both men bought Danny a couple of drinks without bringing up anything more than casual conversation. So Danny decided to put out a couple of feelers and see if he could stir anything up.
“You fellers being so friendly and neighborly, it sure riles me that I got to wait to pay day afore I can repay you.”
“Reckon you’d like to earn a mite more, afore then?” Stocker asked.
“I sure as hell would.”
“Look, boy,” the rancher said, dropping his voice. “I got crowded up on the Rock Pile because the big ranchers took all the good land. A fair number of my cattle stray down there. I’d pay well for any you found and brought back.”
“How’d I know which was yours?” asked Danny.
“If they’d got the Bradded S brand on ’em, they’d be mine.”
“Shucks, I’ve not seen any Bradded S stuff on our range,” Danny groaned.
“How about unbranded stuff?” the rancher inquired.
“You mean unbranded Bench J stock?”
“Under the law, Danny,” Soskice put in, “an unbranded animal is property of the man who lays his brand on it.”
“Is that the legal law?” asked Danny, wide-eyed and eager.
“It sure is,” agreed the rancher. “Hell, I bet all the ranchers have branded dozens of mine. You’ll only be helping me get my own back. It’d be justice and I’d pay you five dollars a head.”
“I’ll just bet you would,” Danny drawled, a crafty glint coming into his eyes. “I risk a rope for five dollars a head, when you’ll likely sell them for thirty. Mister, I may be——”
“Hold your voice down!” Soskice hissed. “You want money——”
“Not bad enough to risk a hemp bandana for that price.”
“You risked it when you rode the Rafter O’s bay,” Soskice pointed out, silencing Stocker’s angry growls with a wave of his hand.
“Sure, but for a damned sight more than you’re offering,” Danny answered. “I’ll sell at ten dollars a head, no less.”
“Ten doll——!” began Stocker.
“All grown beef. Got me twenty head located right now, not a brand on ’em and ready for picking.”
Suspicion glinted in Stocker’s eyes. “How the hell——”
“Shucks,” drawled Danny. “Word’s got around about the cow stealing up here. Why’d you reckon I come. I figured sooner or later I’d tie in with the right folks. Where’d you want ’em bringing?”
Stocker and Soskice looked at each other, then a grin creased the rancher’s face. “You’re a smart cuss,” he told Danny. “Brand ’em someplace and deliver ’em to Bowie Rock. Do you know it?”
“That one with a top shaped like the clipped point of a bowie knife, down by where the Talbot River flows off the Rock Pile?” asked Danny.
“That’s the one. I’ll be there from midnight until three in the morning tomorrow night. You deliver the cattle and collect your money in town.”
“Can’t say I like that idea.”
“It’s the way we do it,” Stocker growled.
“And it’s better that way, Danny,” the lawyer put in. “Safer too. If anybody sees you, you claim you found the cattle straying. They can search you and Turk and not find any money on you, so they can’t prove you aimed to sell them to him. And if your boss catches you coming in late and wants to know where you’ve been, he’ll not find you with more cash in your pockets than you should have.”