"I'll tell Olie the good news," he said, opening the gate.
Danner nodded. "I'll be inside with Lona."
She met him at the steps, apparently in a pleasant frame of mind. A faded calico dress failed to detract from her wholesome beauty. The long golden hair hung slightly awry and she fussed some of the loose strands into place.
"I've missed you," she said simply and Danner cast aside all doubts about his welcome here. He bent to kiss her lightly on the lips, then followed her inside.
In a rough country where harsh living was accepted as the standard, the Swensen parlor provided a striking contrast. The furnishings were inexpensive, the curtains and rugs homemade. But the artful arrangement gave the room a colorful and homey appeal.
"What brought you out this way?" Lona asked. "I thought the railroad kept you busy during the week."
"I'm spending a few days with Billy since— since I quit the railroad."
Her face showed a sharp astonishment and her hand came up to the brooch always hanging at her throat. Disbelief held her speechless.
With a grin, Danner put his arm around her shoulders and moved her to the couch facing the open fireplace. Finally, Lona shook her head.
"I just can't believe it," she said. "Why did you do it? I hope it wasn't just to please me."
"No," Danner shook his head. "I kept having words with the new management and finally decided I no longer belonged—after he refused to press charges against the Dooleys."
"But what will you do now?"
She would ask that, Danner thought wryly, casting about for a suitable answer. He was still searching when he heard the door open and McDaniel's heavy voice boom out.
"Did you tell her about the farm?"
"Farm?" Lona sat upright, her eyes wide now.
"Yeh," McDaniel said. "Jeff and I are pooling our money tomorrow to buy the Jensen place."
"Jeff," Lona cried, and she threw herself against him, her arms around his neck. He tried to stand up but she clung tightly. Then she kissed him fully on the mouth. From the corner of his eye, Danner saw McDaniel come up, protesting.
"You maybe misunderstood me, Miss Lona."
Jeff—"
But Lona wasn't listening. She buried her face against Danner's chest, weeping happily. For the usually serene Lona to make such a display, even in private, would have astonished Danner. But in front of McDaniel and her father, the affection overwhelmed Danner to the point of speechlessness.
McDaniel's stricken eyes appealed to Danner, but Danner could only lift his shoulders in silent resignation.
None of this was lost on Olie, despite the early evening gloom settling in the room. Olie lighted a lamp, then stood staring suspiciously from McDaniel to Danner and back again. Lamplight glistened on his bald head, yet seemed to shadow his narrowed eyes.
Lona wiped her eyes and smiled up at Danner. Somehow Danner didn't care about the misunderstanding now.
"You must be hungry," she said, beaming. "Supper is about ready. Will you—"
"With pleasure," Danner asserted. "Three days of fish, cooked by me, is enough for any man."
Lona fled to the kitchen.
McDaniel came around the couch then. "I'm sorry, Jeff. I didn't mean for it to sound the way it did."
"It doesn't matter," Danner shrugged. "It made her happy, so that's the way we'll leave it. And besides, there's still one thing I'd like to clear up before I leave this territory. If I have a legitimate reason for staying around I can move about with less attention." As an afterthought, he added, "And maybe Lona is right. Maybe I'll like farming well enough to settle down to it permanently."
Olie bristled up, his eyes darting from one to the other. "Just what is it you two are up to?" he demanded. "Are you buying that Jensen place, or not? I'll not have you making a fool out of my girl."
"It's nothing like that," McDaniel protested, with a wave of his arms. "It's—"
"Forget it, Olie," Danner interrupted. "Billy and I will buy the Jensen place tomorrow just like we said." Then Danner moved out into the night to avoid a clash with the grumpy little Swede.
CHAPTER SIX
The purchase of the Jensen farm took less than an hour. Another fifteen minutes were used to buy a team of mules and a wagon. McDaniel drove the wagon toward the general store. Danner rode on the seat beside him. Full of plans, McDaniel had seldom stopped talking all morning.
"We'll need quite a few tools, some paint, plenty of barbed wire—"
"You get it," Danner interrupted, amused by the enthusiasm of his friend and now partner. "Just drop me off at the barbershop and I'll join you in an hour or so."
McDaniel nodded, then slowed the wagon in front of the hotel. Danner dropped to the street and waved him on. Thursday was a slow day in Richfield so Danner didn't have to wait for the barbershop bathtub. He soaked for twenty minutes, then dried off and dressed. A scraping sound reached him as he buckled on his gun belt. Puzzled, he grew wary without knowing why.
Rays of light leaked in through cracks in the partition separating the washroom from the front of the barbershop. Danner moved over to the partition and peered through one of the cracks. A chill gripped him.
Obviously waiting for him in the barbershop, stood Ears and Sam Dooley and their cousin Garr Green, all wearing expectant grins. Ears stood nearest to the door into the washroom, while Garr leaned against the front barber chair, behind which cringed the barber. The most dangerous one of the three, Sam Dooley, lounged against the bare wall to the left of and behind his brother. Strangely, all three seemed to be unarmed. Danner searched for telltale bulges under their shirts, but found none. He thought it over quickly, and decided to play the situation with safety.
A door behind Danner led to the alley out back. Silently he moved over to the door, easing it open. The litter of years lay scattered everywhere and a sour smell added to the unpleasantness of the alley. With great care Danner picked his way along the back of the building to the rear entrance of the hotel next door. Through the narrow hallway and across the lobby he went, then out to the main street and back toward the front of the barbershop. The trio stood much as they were when he had left the washroom. Only now, Sam Dooley was the nearest to Danner.
"Waiting for me, boys?" The sound of his voice brought immediate reactions from the three. Both Sam and Green came erect from their leaning positions, swiveling around with surprise. Ears Dooley whirled with a look of panic that swiftly changed to savage joy. Too late, Danner realized why.
From the seat of the second barber chair Ears scooped up a double-barreled twelve-gauge shotgun. The twin holes in the ends of the shortened barrels gaped menacingly at him.
"You're hipped, Danner," Ears gloated. Then he spat out a vicious string of curses which Danner endured silently, grinding his teeth in fury at his own blunder. He should have figured something like this. The noise had been deliberate, to draw his eye to the crack in the partition. The lack of visible guns also was for his benefit, to lure him out of the tub room without a gun in his hand. His precaution of circling around had only heightened the sweetness of the triumph now so plain on the grinning faces. Green spat on the floor near Danner's boots, knowing Danner could do nothing about it. Ears Dooley ceased his bitter cursing then.
"Do you want to beg a little before I scatter you all over the walls, Danner?" Ears taunted. His entire body seemed to twitch with repressed emotion. "How was it when you killed our brothers, Danner? Did they beg, huh? Course, we know better, because they were shot in the back."
Then Ears broke off to laugh insanely. Still faking a calm he didn't feel, Danner took a single step closer to Sam Dooley but kept his gaze on Ears.