"Damn yu," yelled Devint. "I'll--"
But ere he could get the snatched-at gun from its holster Severn's expectant eye had caught the movement, and his left hand darted out, gripping the wrist with a clutch of steel, while his right seized the would-be slayer's throat.
He shook the powerless man savagely, sinking his fingers still more deeply in the flesh of his neck. Devint, his eyeballs bulging and his face a dark purple, was on the point of suffocation when, with a sudden thrust, Severn flung him headlong into the dust, where he lay gasping, his labouring lungs sucking in the air in great gulps. It was some moments before he could get on his feet, and then the foreman said shortly :
"Go up to the house, get yore time, an' hit the trail."
With an evil look and a muttered threat the beaten man slouched away. Severn turned to the others; the anger had gone from his face but there was still an acid touch in his voice.
"Anyone else got notions?" he asked.
"I go wiz Meester Devint," the Mexican said.
Severn nodded, and looked at Darby, who answered the unspoken question with a grin.
"I'm stayin' put," he said.
"Good enough," replied the foreman, and proceeded to detail the duties for the day.
"My Gawd ! " said Linley, as he rode away with Darby. "Did yu see? He was actually laughin' when he guzzled Bull."
"Laughin'?" retorted Darby. "Yes, laughin' like a wolf does when it's pullin' down a calf. I reckon hangin' won't be no surprise to Bull now."
Having sent the men off, Severn went up to the ranch-house. He found Masters and his daughter in the front room. The girl was dressed for riding and her forehead creased in a little frown when he entered.
'Lo, Severn, started weedin' a'ready, I hear," the cattleman greeted.
"I had to part with two o' the outfit," the new foreman smiled. "They didn't seem comfortable."
"They've been comfortable enough till now," the girl interjected. "Both reliable men, recommended by Mr. Bartholomew."
The bitterness of this attack surprised Severn but his voice was cool and easy when he replied :
"I shore didn't know they were friends o' yores, Miss Masters."
"I don't make friends with cowboys or Mexicans," the girl retorted coldly. "I suppose you followed your usual method and provoked them in the hope of a gunplay?"
Severn grinned. "An' two more notches, eh? Well, the only provocation I gave Devint was to offer him the job of straw-boss, which he declined--without thanks. When he tried to shoot me in the back I just naturally had to reason with him. The Greaser took up his end of it."
"Mr. Bartholomew won't like it," the girl said.
"Damn Bartholomew," her father exploded. "This is my ranch an' I'm runnin' it. When I put a man in charge I back his play; yu can fire the whole bunch if yu need to, Severn. Any-thin' else yu wantin' to see me about?"
"No, I'm just goin' to have a look over the range," Severn replied, and then an imp of mischief prompted him to add, "I thought if Miss Masters was thinkin' o' ridin' she might show me around."
The girl's eyes met his in contemptuous astonishment. "I've something else to do," she said shortly.
Setting out on his tour of inspection, the new foreman addressed the dog gambolling a few yards in front of his pony's nose.
"The Princess regretted she had another engagement, Quirt, so we gonta go it alone," he said quizzically. "Don't look so blame' joyful--she don't like us, old-timer; she's got no more use for us than she has for a boil on the neck, an' that's a fact."
*It must have been somewhere about midnight when Severn was awakened by a low throaty growl from the dog curled up on the foot of his bed. Raising himself, he looked round. There was no moon, but the stars provided a murky light, and he fancied he saw an indistinct shadow outside the back window.
"Quiet, boy," he whispered to the dog, and sat watching, his right hand gripping a six-shooter.
Again he saw what he had taken to be a shadow, and then came an unmistakable creak as though someone was trying to force an entrance. Severn remained motionless, but for some moments there was no further sound. Apparently the intruder, satisfied that hes had not disturbed the sleeper, renewed his efforts, for a further creak sounded as the sash of the window was forced up several inches. Then came a light "flop", and the shadow vanished, but not before Severn caught a glimse of a white blot, with two dark holes for eyes. He smiled to himself;the outfit was playing a joke on its new foreman and that was why he had been told of the White Masks.
"Dam fool, whoever it may be," he muttered. "If I'd fired--"
The sentence remained unfinished, for at that rnoment he heard a sharp hiss, followed by a curious sound, somewhat resembling the crumpling of a parchment, and he knew that there was a rattlesnake in the room. Sensing danger, the dog growled again, and the man, putting his hand on it, found the animal trembling, the hait of its neck bristling. He himself had an unpleasant prickling sensation under his scalp.
For a moment he listened intently, hoping to locate the reptile but the faint slither of its body as it moved on the earthen floor gave no indication of its whereabouts. The rattlesnake, Severn knew, is a coward and will rarely attack unless forced to defend itself, but this one must have just been released from captivity and would be fighting rnad. One thing was certain, he must have a light, and his rnatches were on the table in the middle of the room. Gingerly reaching out, he felt for his boots, dropped at the side of the bed, found and pulled them on.
This was the ticklish time. Slipping from the bed, gun in his right hand, two long noiseless strides brought him to the table, where he pawed eagerly around for the matches, nearly upsetting the lamp. He could not fmd them and had to move his position. Every step he expected to feel a squirming body under his foot and the sinking of the deadly fangs in his flesh. In groping about he made a slight noise and his blood chilled when the ominous rattle sounded again, and very near. Then his fingers closed on the matches and, spilling them on the table, he snapped one alight with his thumb-nail. Less than a yard away was the reptile, coiled upon half its body, poised in readiness to strike. He had just time to spring back and send a bullet into the flat, venomous head. Then, with shaking fingers, he lighted the lamp, and kicked the still quivering carcase into the open hearth. A scurry of footsteps came from outside, voices and a knock on the door. Opening it, he saw several of the men, partially clad, but every one of them carrying a gun.
"What's doin'?" asked the foremost, the man named Darby. "A diamond-back come a-visitin'," Severn explained. "Had to abolish it some."
The men crowded in and examined the snake, which was alarge one.
"Ten rattles--he was a daddy, shore enough," commented one. "Wonder if he fetched his farnily."
A search of the room revealing no further visitants, the cowboys returned to their bunks, all save Darby, who lingered.
"Funny 'bout him," he said, jerking a thumb at the dead repnile. "There's gravel all round this shack an' snakes don't like gravel."
He walked to the window, stooped and picked something up. "He shore meant to stay, too--brought his war-bag." He held out a leather sack, the mouth of which could be closed with a draw-string; it was rank with the peculiarly offensive odour of the rattlesnake. "Yore fondness for pets has got around," he went on. "Mebbe yu'll get a skunk next."
"I could 'a' got one to-night if I'd knowed," the foreman replied, but gave no information. Though the man seemed friendly, he was not trusting anyone yet. That a dastardly attempt on his life had been made was clear, but he had no evidence to locate the culprit. When Darby had gone he turned in again, but not without a commending pat for Quirt.
"I reckon yu'll pay for yore keep, old fella," he said.