"I am glad to see you both," he said, and there was the slightest stress of the last word. His mild gaze rested on them. "The danger is past?"
"This particular one won't rise again till Gabriel toots his horn," Sudden replied grimly, and went to their room. The old man looked inquiringly at Mason.
"Logan baited him and pulled his gun; Jim got him before he could fire. I never see anythin' like it. Jim was as unconcerned as the corpse at a buryin'. One shot, plumb through the heart." There was awe in his tone. "No wonder they call him `Sudden'."
"Jim is takin' it pretty hard, dunno why, a skunk like that."
"Save to the utterly depraved, the letting of a human life, however necessary, is not a subject for pride," came the mild reproof. "You boys will need to be on the alert; the people who set this slayer on will try again."
"Yu know who they are?" Gerry asked.
"Not yet, but I shall," was the reply.
And with that Mason had to be content.
* * * It was on the following morning that something for which Gerry had long been hoping, happened--he met Mary Ducane. One swift glance and she looked away. Hat in hand, he stepped directly in her path.
"Yu don't seem pleased to see me, Miss Ducane," he said, and there was determination in his tone.
"It is your own fault if I am not," she replied coldly, for she was conscious that the sight of him stirred her and that she had missed this pleasant-faced boy who had done so much to make the long passage across the plains endurable.
"Mebbe yu'll tell me what crime I've committed?"
"I don't like your friends, Mister Mason."
"I ain't exactly in love with yores, but I'm not holdin' that against yu," he retorted.
"My friends are not cold-blooded killers," she said hotly.
"Is that so? Well, the man yo're miscallin' saved me from bein' shot in the back by one of 'em--fella named Fagan," Gerry said grimly. "Mebbe yu didn't know that?"
"He is not a friend, as you should be aware," she cried. "I heard you had beaten him up. I detest brawlers and--drunkards." Her attitude of contempt roused a devil of despair in him. For weeks he had hungered for the sight of her, and now .. .
"Pore of Snowy," he said, and if he meant to anger her he certainly succeeded.
"I refuse to discuss my uncle with you," she said, and her eyes were stormy.
Mason was reckless. " Saint' Paul hisself don't hate the sight of a bottle, unless mebbe an empty one."
"You are insulting," she retorted scathingly. "Either you have been drinking or your association with men who slay for money has debased you. I wish never to speak to you again."
"Yu think it's so but it ain't," Gerry told her hardily. "One day yo're goin' to like me a whole lot. As for the fella yu've been abusin', he's the straightest man I ever met."
"With a gun?" she asked scornfully.
"In every way," he replied. "He's my partner an' I wouldn't give him up even for yu, an' yo're goin' to be my wife."
"Never," she flamed.
"' For ever' rhymes with that an' shore sounds nicer," he smiled. "I ain't sayin' good-bye--Mary; I'll be seein' yu." Utterly bereft of speech the astounded girl watched him go, and then, with a curious little sound, half laugh, half sob, she turned away. Gerry Mason strode along, oblivious of the busy scene around him. A slightly tanned oval face, from which deep blue eyes regarded him witheringly, was all he saw, and he was filled with wonder at his own temerity.
"I must 'a' been loco," he muttered, but there was no regret. "My, but she looked awful pretty when she r'ared up. I reckon she'll never forgive me--till I make her." His unrepentant grin would have made Miss Ducane "awful pretty" a second time had she seen it.
* * *
"So Berg fell down again?" Lesurge said. "He appears to be somewhat of a bungler."
"Yes, damn it," Stark growled. "I'm through with him." They were alone in the saloon-keeper's sanctum and it was the night after the passing of Lefty Logan. Paul shook his head.
"You can't afford to be," he said. "If he goes over to Bizet and talks ..."
"That rat? He's no proof--" Stark began.
"Rats can bite and you don't need to stir up trouble in a community like this," the other broke in. "All he's done is to make that cursed cowboy a popular figure."
"What you got against him, Paul?"
"Nothing--much, but as I told you, I've a feeling he's going to make things difficult for--us."
"Can't he be bought?"
"He turned down Berg's offer," came the reminder. "I don't think all your money would tempt him, but there may be another way."
"What's that?"
"I'll explain later; leave it to me," Lesurge evaded.
On his way home he turned over the idea which had come to him during the conversation. It would require the aid of Lora, but he could rely on that. He was fortunate to find her alone in the sitting-room.
"You were complaining of being dull and having nothing to do," he began. "Well, I've found a way in which you can amuse yourself and help at the same time." He explained his plan, and as she listened her eyes filled with mischievous mirth.
"What is the great idea? You are not going to slay him at my feet, are you?" she bantered.
"Don't be silly, Lora--there is no question of hurting the fellow," Paul said sharply. "We want him on our side and if you can get him interested in yourself ... "
"I see," she said. "But suppose I'm the one to get--interested?"
"You're not a fool."
"No, but I'm a woman. Well, as you say, it will be amusing. Have you any suggestions?"
"I've thought it out," he replied, and went on to explain.
"Brilliant, Paul," she laughed. "Had you used your undoubted ability in some honest channel--isn't that how the judge generally phrases it?" She saw the gathering frown. "Oh, well, if you're ashamed of being crooked there's still hope for you."
"That tongue of yours will one day make me consider taking a whip to you," he grated.
"Consider it well, Paul," she counselled. "The man who did that to me wouldn't live long enough to be sorry." She left him pacing up and down the room, his usually immobile features contorted with fury. He got control of himself, however, and by the time Snowy--for whom he was waiting--arrived, he was his own calm, urbane self. The prospector was in a gay mood.
"'Lo, Paul, this of town is shorely whoopin' along, ain't she?" he greeted.
"Yes, but it is no place for idle folk to live in."
"Meanin'?"
"That it is time you got busy and found that mine. Has Mary refreshed that shocking memory of yours?" Snowy looked embarrassed. "Damned if I warn't near forgettin' why we come here," he confessed. "She told me enough --I'll reckernize the place when I see it. Want me to start in the mornin'?"
"Hell, no. How far is it?"
"Mebbe twenty mile an' rough travellin'."
"You'll need company, at least one man who's good with his gun. Got any ideas." Snowy was without the confidence of Lesurge and Stark; he had not been informed of Berg's activities. "What about that cowboy fella, Green?" he asked. "You won't find a better gun-swinger barrin' Wild Bill, an' some has their doubts about that." To his surprise the suggestion met with approval. "The very man I had in mind, Phil," Lesurge smiled. "I'll arrange it. Once the mine is located, we can take out a strong party to work it. And, by the way, Reuben Stark is our friend, so I want you to boost him whenever you can. Sabe?" He went without waiting for a reply, and the old man grimaced at his back. "Shore I sabe, Paul, an' I'll boost him--into hell," he muttered. The malevolent expression cleared from his face. "Glad about Green; if he'd sent Fagan I'm afeared there'd have been an accident--to Fagan." * * * The cowboys were at work on their claim when Sudden heard the slither of shod hoofs on gravel and slipped into the undergrowth to find out who was intruding. He arrived just in time to see the visitor, a woman, descend from her saddle and slap the pony smartly on the rump. As the animal clattered away, she dropped to the ground and uttered a cry of "Help!" Somewhat mystified by these proceedings, Sudden waited a few moments and then hurried from his hiding-place. The face which looked appealingly up to his was beautiful, and to his surprise, was that of Lora Lesurge.