With conversation of this kind he kept her amused and interested until they reached their destination. Desert Edge was a replica of Hope Again, but on a larger scale, plus a railway depot and pens where the cattle could await shipment. Though Phil had visited the place several times on her way to the East, she had but little knowledge of it. An inquiry of a shock-headed man, whose hand went instinctively to remove a hat he was not wearing, elicited the information she desired--the whereabouts of Judge Embley.
The Judge, whose title was official and not one of courtesy only, was a tall man of sixty, with a square, rugged but kindly face, and an unruly mop of grey hair which brush and comb were powerless to subdue. He was in his shirt-sleeves when his landlady entered the apartment which served as sitting-room and office, with the information that a young lady wished to see him. Slipping on his long black coat, he laid aside his cigar and greeted his visitor with a smile.
"So you are Philip Masters' little girl, eh?" he said when she had told her name. "No news of your father yet, I suppose?" And when she shook her head, he added, "Well, well, it's too soon to despair yet, you know. Now sit down and tell me how I can help you."
The girl took the chair he placed for her; she liked the old man at once, and felt that he could be trusted.
"I've been looking through Daddy's papers," she began, "and I found one saying that if anything happened to him"--her voice shook a little--"I was to come and see you."
"Quite right," the Judge said. "I've had the handling of your father's business for some years now, and a few months ago I drew up his will, under the terms of which I now become your guardian. May T say that while I deplore the necessity, I'm very proud of the position." He bowed with an old-fashioned courtesy which gave point to the compliment. Then, seeing that she did not quite understand, he added, "It amounts to this, until your father returns or we have definite news concerning him, I stand in loco parentis as we lawyers phrase it, or, in plain English, I take his place until you are of age."
The girl was silent, pondering. "And suppose--I wanted--to get married," she said slowly. "Your consent would be necessary?"
The shrewd old eyes under the bushy brows twinkled a little. "I am afraid that is so," he admitted. "The will specially provides for such a contingency, and, failing my consent, your inheritance is reduced to a small annual income. What reason your father had for inserting that clause I cannot say, but apparently he regarded it as important."
Again the girl was silent. She had vaguely thought of marriage with Bartholomew as a means of ousting Severn from the position of authority he had assumed, if all else failed. Had the clause been directed at the owner of the Bar B? Her father had always been friendly with the big man, but she had begun to suspect lately that he did not like him.
"If you are concerned about the conduct of the ranch, you need not be," the Judge remarked. "You have a good foreman."
"I don't like him," Phil said bluntly. "He acts as if the place belonged to him."
"He represents the owner, and he's there to give orders," Embley reminded her.
"Yes, but not to me," the girl retorted hotly.
"Has he done so?" the Judge queried.
The girl hesitated. "Well, no, not exactly," she admitted, "but he refused to obey my instructions." She related the incident regarding the steers Bartholomew had asked for.
"He was entirely right," the old man said gravely. "I am fairly conversant with your father's affairs, and I know of no debt to this man Bartholomew. I may tell you that I recommended Severn to your father, and I am pleased to find that he is justifying my confidence."
' His tone was kindly, but in it there was a note of determination which told her that it would be useless to suggest the foreman's dismissal, as she had been on the point of doing. The astute old lawyer had divined this, and had cleverly saved both her and himself the pain of a refusal. Also, his reference to Bartholomew had made it plain that he did not entertain a highopinion of the owner of the Bar B ranch. Bitterly aware of a fruitless errand, she stood up to go; the Judge misread her doleful expression.
"Now, my dear, don't assume the worst," he said. "I am having inquiries made in all the outlying towns, and I've no doubt we shall hear of your father before very long. Come or send to me if you are in any difficulty, and--you can trust your foreman."
Larry had a very silent companion on the ride back to the ranch, and in truth the girl had plenty to occupy her thoughts. She had set out in the morning full of hope that the Judge would be able to establish her authority and set her masterful foreman in his place, or, better still, out of it, and instead he had only given her a fuller realisation of her helplessness. Mainly the visit had been a gesture of revolt against Severn, and it failed. Her heart grew hot within her at the thought of this cool, confident stranger controlling her and her property. At least he should get no help from her, and Bartholomew was on her side and would know h w to deal with him.
When the owner of the Bar B came over on the following morning, she told him e ough of her conversation with the Judge to let him understand her position, and though he concealed his chagrin fairly wel, he was frowning heavily when she finished.
"Wonder why yore dad'' put that old fool Embley in the saddle?" he speculated. "There's somethin' funny behind all this. We gotta watch out, girl; it may be a frame-up."
"How do you mean?" she. asked.
"Well, I don't say it's so, but listen to this," the rancher replied. "Embley draws up yore father's will an' gets himself made executor an' yore guardian. Stevens is rubbed out, an' he introduces Severn. Then yore dad vanishes an' Embley an' Severn get control o' the best ranch in the county. Say, I'm bettin' yu can't marry without the Judge's consent, eh?"
"Not until T'm of age," the girl admitted.
"I knew it," Bartholomew cried. "Damn 'em, they've got every hole stopped. Don't yu see how it all fits in? When they've got control o' the ranch, Severn makes up to yu--" The girl smiled wryly, and he guessed her thought. "Don't make no mistake--some men think the only way to attract a woman is to hold her off an' ride her on the curb. I'll lay the Judge would say `yes' to that proposition fast enough, but we won't give him the chance, eh, Phil? We'll beat Mister Severn in spite o' the stacked deck. How's he fixed for funds?"
"He's selling four-score head to Ridge."
"When is he sendin' 'em up?"
"The day after to-morrow."
"Good enough," the big man grinned. "That'll give me time to put a little crimp in his plans."
She did not ask what he intended to do; she suspected that he would in some way prevent the delivery of the cattle, so that Severn would not get the cash he would be needing, but her resentment against the man made her blind to the fact that she might be working in opposition to her own interest. Bartholomew's specious reasoning had so poisoned her mind that she was ready to believe in the reality of the vile plot he had outlined, and to do anything to circumvent it.
Chapter VI
A SOILED, folded scrap of paper of the kind a storekeeper might use to wrap up a parcel, and on it, pencilled in rude capital letters, the following message :
"If yu take the XT herd through Skull Canyon yu'll lose it. A FRIEND."
Severn had found it thrust under the door of his shack on the morning of the second day after Phil's visit to Desert Edge. Sardonically he wondered as to the identity of the unknown "friend". Was it an attempt to delay the delivery of the herd, on to force him to choose another route? Thrusting the warning into his pocket, he went to the bunkhouse in search of Darby
"Is Skull Canyon on the trail to the XT?" he asked, watch- ing the man closely.
"Shore--'bout halfway," was the reply. "The trail to Ridge': takes a turn there, an' cuts into the rough country around the lower slopes o' the Pinnacles. She's good enough goin' alla-same."