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"May be trouble brewing," Olie said finally, squirming on the seat. "Four days ago, Tuso and a couple of hardcases came by my place and warned me against shipping my grain to Junction City. I've been all over the area today and found that Tuso has been there, too, warning the others."

Danner nodded, feeling no surprise. "What did he say he'd do if you go through with it?"

"Nothing." Olie leaned forward, glaring truculently. "He just claimed you talked us into it because you were up to something."

Danner detected a trace of suspicion in the narrowed eyes. Olie wasn't certain that Tuso might not be right. The composure of Lona's features told him nothing of what she thought.

"Well," Olie exploded, "aren't you going to deny it?"

Danner shook his head. "I didn't ask you people to do what I planned to do. What you think is of no importance to me."

Olie snorted, and Lona cast a searching stare at Danner. But Danner kept a tight rein on his temper and waited until Olie grew impatient again.

"Well, what do you think Browder will have Tuso do?"

Danner said, "Keep on trying to scare you off, just like he's been doing."

Olie made no attempt to hide his dissatisfaction with the answer. Distrusting both Browder and his future son-in-law, he hated to move either way. But he had little choice. He squirmed with discontent.

"Some of the grangers have pulled out already," Olie growled. "But the others probably will stick." He mopped his brow with a soiled bandanna, squinting over his shoulder at the mid-afternoon sun.

Lona spoke for the first time, her voice betraying nothing of her thoughts. "You don't think Browder will try any other way of stopping us?"

"He might," Danner said. "It wouldn't be wise for anyone to take a grain wagon to Richfield alone. If you go in bunches of half a dozen there's less chance of raiding."

Lona nodded in agreement, but Olie eyed him with continued suspicion.

"I don't like any of this," Olie bristled.

Danner couldn't resist a sardonic grin.

"Then pull out of it."

The team of horses began to move restlessly. They were thirsty and smelled the water in the trough near the well. Olie noticed it and glanced at the trough.

"Better water the horses," Olie growled. He slapped the reins and the team moved ahead. Danner walked alongside. While the horses gulped the water, Danner helped Lona from the buckboard. She followed him to the well and took the tin dipper of cool water he offered her, staring at him over the rim of the cup. Then she handed the cup to Olie. McDaniel joined them then, his chatter easing the tension somewhat. But Lona kept looking at Danner closely and he shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm glad you are staying away from town," she said finally. She waited for a moment and when he offered no comment, she continued. "Two passenger trains were robbed last week and another one Monday—"

"And," Danner interrupted roughly, "naturally, I'm getting the blame."

Lona nodded, her glance resting on him briefly then dropping. "They didn't bother the express-cars—just the passengers."

"How many bandits?"

"Five—each time—all wearing flour sacks over their heads. One guarded each end of the coach while two others searched the passengers. A fifth man was waiting with horses at the point where they jumped from the train each time."

A professional job, Danner thought. Tuso, Green and the two new hardcases totaled only four, so Ears Dooley must be back in circulation. He wondered if Browder knew about their activities. It seemed slightly penny ante for him.

McDaniel interrupted his thoughts. "Jeff, they can't blame you for those robberies because I know you haven't been off this place in eleven days. When we go to Richfield Saturday for those grain wagons, I'll just circulate around and tell everyone—"

"You'll tell them nothing," Danner interrupted shortly, despite his partner's good intentions.

Temper colored Lona's cheeks then. "But if you can prove your innocence—"

"I need no defense against idle rumors. If and when I am charged with a crime and brought to trial, I'll prove my innocence. Meanwhile, the good people around here can think what they wish."

Lona whirled away from him and an accusing glance from Olie didn't cool his temper any. But when Lona faced him again, she spoke in tight, clipped tones.

"If you do go to town Saturday, promise me you'll leave your gun here."

"A lot of people would like to catch me unarmed," Danner told her.

"Unarmed men don't get into trouble." Banner bit back another reply. Like Melinda, Lona had less trust in him than in the intentions of Browder's bunch. But he nodded reluctant agreement and she thanked him with a brief smile.

CHAPTER TEN

Danner completed his part of the Saturday morning chores soon after sunup. While McDaniel filled the water trough, he fixed breakfast. After eating they dressed for the trip to town. Danner buckled on his gun belt, then considered his promise to Lona. Thoughtfully, he caressed the butt of the Colts .45. Reluctantly, he unbuckled the belt and hung it on a peg on the wall.

Except for the occasional creak of saddle leather and the soft thud of hoofs on the packed soil of the well-used road, silence rode with them as they headed for Richfield. McDaniel rode loosely, lost in his own thoughts and oblivious to the jouncing of his big frame.

They rode along the same route the grain wagons would take to Richfield. Danner found himself considering possible ambush sites where Browder might strike if he should try wrecking the wagons before they reached the railroad.

Most of the road lay across flat plains that wouldn't hide raiders. But when Danner and McDaniel rode up to Wilson Ford, Danner decided this would be an excellent spot. It was little more than a dry wash this time of year.

Danner looked closely as he rode into the dip and up the far side. Riders could hide here and not be seen until they were ready to start shooting.

Half an hour later they passed through a timbered area. Dense underbrush screened the interior of the timber on each side of the road, making the spot another fine place to wait in ambush.

Just out of sight and hearing of Richfield, they wound around a series of small rises that seemed the least likely of the three possible trouble points. Any hiding place here would put raiders more than two hundred yards from the road, a sufficient distance to permit wagonmen to get set, then pick off attackers with long guns. Either of the other two points would be much better sites.

Although it wasn't yet mid-morning when they reached Richfield, grangers flocked around the Trading Center making last-minute arrangements for thrashing machines.

"You see about the wagons," Danner told Billy. "I'll go check on the boxcars at the depot."

McDaniel nodded, then veered off into the maze of wagons crowding in front of the Trading Center. While still two hundred yards from the hotel, Danner saw Tuso come out and swagger off away from him, heading west. Since going to work for Browder, Tuso had bunked in a storeroom at the granary. Evidently he had moved into the hotel now. He would have taken his possessions with him, including a pin-fire pistol, if he owned one.

Reaching the hotel, Danner reined in and stepped to the ground. The veranda was deserted; so was the lobby. Even the desk clerk was off somewhere. Danner flipped open the register and scanned it until he found Tuso's name opposite room number two-ten. He stepped behind the desk and took a tagged key from the two-ten mail slot.

A worn carpet cushioned his boots on the steps and along the second-floor corridor. Like the room Danner had occupied for four years, two-ten consisted of a nine by twelve space containing only a bed, washstand, chest of drawers and a closet. He found Tuso's trunk in the closet.