"Where is Ignacio's body?" was her next question.
"I don't know," the foreman said. "It vanished from where I left it--complete."
"And do you expect me to believe this--story?" she asked sarcastically.
"No," replied Severn, and his voice was hard and even-toned. "I don't expect yu to believe anythin' I say, Miss Masters, because yu have been told different, but yore not believin' it doesn't alter the truth."
With a look which clearly expressed her contempt, the girl turned away. The foreman looked after her; his jaw was set grimly, but his eyes were soft.
"The Princess continues to have no sorta use for us, Quirt," he said, scratching the dog's head. "She's thinkin' now I bumped off her daddy an' I dunno as I blame her; she's havin' a tough time."
Phil, turning as she entered the ranch-house, saw the dog standing on its hind-legs, enthusiastically endeavouring to lick its master's face and getting its ears playfully cuffed. Her anger blazed anew.
"The brute!" she exploded, and it was very evident she was not referring to the dog. "Bartholomew was right--there must be a conspiracy. Oh, if I find that man killed my daddy, I'll never rest till he is hanged."
The second warning arrived in the same mysterious manner as the first, a few mornings after Severn's visit to Hope. The paper and crude lettering were identical, and even the wording had a like laconic similarity, for it read :
"If yu leave yore cash in the bank yu'll lose it.
A FRIEND."
Severn pondered over it. What did it mean, and where did it come from? The only possible source he could think of was Darby, who being at the Lazy M, as he thought likely, to spy for Bart, might be turning down his old boss for his new, in gratitude for his life. However that might be, there the warning was, and having decided to act upon it, he headed for the town. Though he did not imagine there was need for haste, he rode at a sharp pace and reached his destination before eleven o'clock.
He offered no explanation to the bank manager, but, having drawn t money in one-hundred-dollar bills, thrust it into his pocket and went along to Bent's. In the saloon he got a surprise, for Ridge was there, laughing uproariously at something the saloon-keeper had told him.
"Severn, I'm shakin' with yu," he cried, extending a hand like a young ham. "I just been hearin' how yu threw another monkey-wrench into Bartholomew's works."
The foreman gripped and grinned. "I got a rooted objection to gun-barrels in my ribs," he said. "Fussy o' me, p'raps, but there yu are."
"It's done Bart more harm than a public lickin'," said Bent. "The whole town's talkin' about it. As for Tyler, it's made his life a misery; everybody's askin' him to cut the cards. What's brought yu in agin so soon, Severn?"
The Lazy M man showed them the warning, and told them of the other he had received.
"I dunno who sent it, or what the fella's drivin' at, but I'm playin' it to win, like it did the first time," he said. "Who's back o' that bank?"
"Well, it's called the Pioneer Banking Corporation, but I've a suspicion that's just a fancy title an' the real owner is Rapson, the manager," Bent told him. "He's been here some time an' is reckoned straight. I got a bit there I don't wanta lose."
"Same here. T'm goin' to follow yore hunch, Severn," Ridge said. "So the White Masks took a chance at yu, eh?"
"Two fellas with their faces draped did, an' that was all they took," Severn smiled. "Know anybody around here named `Slick'?"
"A chap called Slick Renny used to ride for Bart but he left the neighbourhood over a year ago," Bent said, and Severn did not pursue the inquiry.
"Who does that old ruined cabin way up the creek towards the Bar B belong to?" he asked. "Looks a likely location."
"That's what the fella who built it thought--a nester o' the name o' Forby--but he figured wrong," the saloon-keeper said. "Yu see, Bart regards it as on his range."
"What happened?"
"Accordin' to Bart, the nester pulled his freight an' burned the shack outa spite, but some of us has other ideas. There's fools as say the place is ha'nted, an' on'y a week or so ago, Old Spilkins come bustin' in here with the story that he'd seen a shadder hangin' another shadder on the big cottonwood by the cabin, but he was middlin' full o' rye at the time an' liable to see anythin'."
After the customary round of drinks the men separated, and Severn, who had no other business in town, rode back towards the ranch.
He was within a few miles of the ranch when he turned off the trail, heading for the southern boundary of the range, an area he had not yet explored. He found that the grazing, doubtless owing to the nearness of the desert, was not so good; there were few cattle, and he saw none of the outfit. Realising that his mount was tired he took things easily, and did not reach the Lazy M until daylight was fading. Outside the corral the men were unsaddling. Suddenly came the distant pound of hoofs and along the trail they could see a dark blob which became rapidly larger.
"Won't be that gent's fault if he's late," remarked Big Boy, as he watched the oncoming rider. "He's shore hittin' her up a few."
"Why, it's Gentle Annie!" cried Bones. "Must be a man after her."
The burst of laughter this sally produced had but died away when Linley dashed up and pulled his pony to a sliding stop, the dug-in hoofs sending up clouds of dust.
"Anyone chasin' yu, Gentle?" queried Larry, and when the boy shook his head, he added : "Well, yu needn't to have hurried, supper ain't ready yet."
"Yo're a nice lot, ain't yu?" Linley retorted, surveying the grinning faces around him. "Yu don't deserve to know." He leaned forward in his saddle and scanned them carefully. "Wonder which of 'em was in it?" he speculated aloud.
Severn saw that the boy had news.
"Better spill it, Gentle, 'fore they shake it out o' yu," he suggested.
Linley grinned at his foreman and delivered his tidings with dramatic suddenness. "The bank at Hope has been cleaned out an' Rapson perforated," he stated.
A chorus of exclamations and questions followed the announcement, and in the midst of in came the clangour of a beaten tin pan which was Jonah's intimation that supper was awaiting their attention.
"Come on, boys, Linley will give us the straight of it while we eat," Severn said, and led the way to the bunkhouse.
The story, shorn of extraneous matter in the shape of comment and surmise, was as follows : Not long after noon--colloquially known as "third drink-time"--three strangers rode into Hope and pulled up at the bank, which was situated at the eastern end of the street not far from the bridge over the creek. They were dressed in cowboy rig, with hat-brims slouched down to conceal the eyes, and each wore a kind of white muffler which hid the lower part of the face. They were well armed and mounted. The two who had entered the building wasted no time. The moment they were inside they pulled their white chokers above their noses a levelled their guns on the startled manager, who was alone, 's assistant having gone to lunch.
"What do you want?' he stammered.
"All yu got," retorted one of the bandits. "An' pronto."
The savage tone and the menacing weapon told the managerthat there was nothing for it but to obey, and he opened the safe. The other robber had found a leathern satchel and this was soon stuffed with all the currency in the bank. Rapson, white and trembling, had to look on while his ruin was accomplished. The thought drove him to desperation. In a drawer beneath the cashier's counter he knew there was a loaded pistoclass="underline" if he could contrive to fire that someone might hear.
The thieves, doubtless out of contempt, were not watching him very closely. Still holding his hands above his head he backed cautiously towards the counter. One of the ruffians was making a final search of the safe and the other, having apparently heard a sound outside, was listening and looking away. This was his chance, and with a sudden snatch he had the drawer open, clutched the pistol and pulled the trigger. He did not attempt to aim, his only thought being to give the alarm. The man whose attention had been distracted whirled upon him.