"Heard of him in Desert Edge," Masters replied. "'Pears to be capable."
"Mebbe," returned Bartholomew coolly. "But I don't like him, Masters, an' he's gotta go."
The cattleman's eyes flashed defiance for an instant, and then fell before the implacable gaze of the man who was giving him orders.
me goes to-morrow," Bartholomew interjected. "An' by the way, I'm shy seventy-five three-year-olds for a trail herd; I'll send over for 'em in a coupla days' time."
The cattleman raged inwardly; he would have given almost anything he possessed for the power to pull his gun and shoot down the man who so ruthlessly rode him, but that would not save him. More than once the tyrant had said, "As long as I live yo're safe, Masters."
He was saved the trouble of replying by the scurry of hoofs outside and the appearance of Phil, mounted on a mettlesome cow-pony. The girl rode cowboy style, almost standing in the stirrups, and her laughing face was flushed with the effort to restrain the bunch of nerves and steel wire she bestrode. At her gay call, Bartholomew mounted, wheeled his horse beside her, and they loped away. Severn entered the bunkhouse as they passed.
"That was yore new foreman, wasn't it?" Bartholomew asked. "What do yu think of him, Phil?"
"I don't think of him," the young lady replied playfully, but not altogether truthfully.
"Shucks, then I needn't 'a' worried," said her escort. "Yu see, I've been advisin' yore father to get rid of him, an' if yu'd lost yore heart--"
"My affections are not so easily captured, Mr. Bartholomew," she bantered back. "T hope Daddy will take your advice."
But even as she said the words a doubt crossed her mind, for short as the time had been, she fancied that her father had been more his old self since the arrival of the new foreman.
Bartholomew, satisfied that she was not interested in the newcomer, made no further reference to him. From time to time his gaze rested possessively on the fresh young beauty who rode beside him. He wanted her and was determined that she should be his. Without openly making love, he had given more than a hint of his hopes. There was a considerable difference in their ages, but, as he told himself, he was still young, and had the additional antractions of wealth and influence.
The girl's thoughts were on the same subject. She knew perfectly well that the owner of the Bar B admired her, and, liking him, the facn gave her pleasure. Though he dressed in the garb of the range, his clothes were of good quality, and he was careful of his appearance. A fine figure of a man, most women would have voted him, virile, self-assured, and, when he chose, entertaining. Though she had never given the subject serious consideration, Phil supposed that they would be married--it seemed the natural outcome--but to-day she found herself criticising her escort, and to her annoyance comparing him with theLate that evening the foreman heard a subdued rap at his door, and opened it to admit his employer. The cattleman's face was grim, and when he spoke his voice had a ring of determination.
"Bartholomew was here to-day, an' things has come to a showdown," he began. "I've got orders to hand over seventy-five head an' fire yu to-morrow. I'll see him in hell first." He waited a moment, but Severn had nothing to say, and the ranch-owner continued. "It's come a bit sooner than I figured, but that can't be helped. Now, get this, Bart's hold is on me--personal, but if I ain't here--"
Severn grinned and nodded comprehendingly. With the owner absent, the blackmailer's power over the ranch vanished too.
"This is how I've planned it," Masters went on. "I just fade out, leavin' no word, an' yu take hold an' run the ranch. Tf I don't show up again in reasonable time I s'pose it will be assumed that I've cashed, an' Judge Embley, over to Desert Edge, will take charge as executor o' my will and guardian to Phil, who won't be of age for another twelvemonth. Yu know the Judge, for he recommended yu to me; he ain't wise to what I'm goin' to do, but he'll help yu if yu get crowded."
"It's shore goin' to be tough on yore girl, not knowin' whether yo're alive," the foreman pointed out.
"I've thought o' that, but there ain't no way round it," therancher replied. "If I left any message, her manner would givethe game away, an' Black Bart would hunt me down. I want him to figure I'm dead--that'll give rne a free hand. At Phil's age griefs ain't lastin', an', anyways, it's the on'y wagon-trail out." He paused for a moment, evidently milling things over in his mind, and then, "I've had to mortgage this place pretty deep to raise money for Bartholomew. Judge Embley fixed it for me, an' I reckon he can hold the fella who lent the cash--for a' while, anyways--an' that's all I'm needin'. Ridge of the XT wants four-score three-year-olds, an' that'll give yu coin to pay expenses. Yu see, I'm trustin' yu, Jim, an' I'm doin' it on what Embley said of yu."
"Yu can gamble on me," the foreman said quietly.
"Which I am, an' puttin' up every chip I got," replied the cattleman. "Now, remember, yu ain't seen me to-night an' don't know nothin' o' my movements. Adios."
They gripped hands for a long moment, and then the rancher slipped out of the shack, feeling more cheerful than he had formany a month. He was in desperate trouble, trusting a man who was almost a stranger, and yet he had no doubts. Somehow this keen-eyed, capable fellow inspired him with confidence. To beat Bartholomew and nhrow off the bondage he had smarted under for years had seemed a vain dream, but now he felt that it was possible. It meant risking all he had, but he stood to lose that in any case to the blackmailer.
The absence of her father at the morning meal, though it surprised Phil, did not arouse any uneasiness; he had ridden away early on other occasions, though he usually left word for her. But when the day passed without any sign of him, she made inquiries, to find that his favourite horse was missing, but that no one had seen him leave. When another day dawned without news of her father, the girl's anxiety became acute, for the tragic fate of Stevens at once recurred to her. Much as she disliked doing so, she went to Severn, but he could tell her nothing.
"He had a deal on with the XT--mebbe he's gone there," he suggested. "Or p'raps he went to Desert Edge an' couldn't make it back to the ranch."
Phil shook her head. "He's never gone anywhere without telling me," she said, and then, as one of the men approached, "What is it, Darby?"
The man looked uncomfortable. "I just wanted a word with the foreman, Miss Phil," he replied.
The girl's face grew pale. "If it is about my father I want to hear what you have to say," she said sharply.
Seeing that the cowboy still hesitated, Severn said, "Go ahead, Darby; what's yore news?"
"The Old Man's hoss has just drifted in--it's down there by the corral."
Phil said nothing, but, white to her trembling lips, walked towards the corral, the two men following. As they did so, Darby contrived to whisper :
"Can't yu keep her away? There's blood on the saddle."
Severn shook his head, and indeed it was too late, for the girl's quick strides soon brought her to where the horse was standing, muzzle drooping, and evidently played out. The reins were over the horn, where they might have lodged accidentally as the rider lost his seat, the rifle was gone, and on the saddle-flaps ominous dark stains were visible. The girl stared at them with a growing horror in her eyes, and as she realised what they might mean, a gusty sob burst from her lips. It was Severn who broke the tension.
"Get busy, boys," he said. "Hosses, guns an' grub; we gotta comb the range.'The sharp order brought the girl out of her stupor of misery.
"I shall need my horse, too," she said, almost defiantly, looking at Severn as though expecting opposition.
But the foreman made no demur. "Shore, yu'll want to help," he said. "An' yu know the country."