This was a settlement some thirty miles distant, and the ranch having had no visitors was without news. Eden said as much.
"Coolest thing ever," Baudry went on. "A stranger steps into Greggs saloon just after dusk, shoots the dealer at the monte table, collects all the cash in sight and backs out. When the company comes to life again, he's clean away."
"Another o' Rogue's capers, I s'pose?" the rancher said.
"They say not, unless he's got a new hand," Baudry replied. "From his looks, and a remark he made, he was Sudden, the Fourways and San Antonio killer." A rider on a big black horse, waiting to assist in starting the herd, caught his eye. "Why, that might be the fellow, by the description," he finished.
"What, Green?" the cattleman grinned. "He's been tied to this camp pretty tight the last two-three weeks. No, Jethro, there ain't no murderers in his outfit ; Jim's all right."
The young man heard the words, but they brought him no satisfaction ; the gambler's harsh voice had also carried to where he sat and the bitterness he had been trying to blot out of his life had overwhelmed him again. Another crime had been unjustly placed to his discredit. The world was determined that he should be an outlaw. Very well, since there was no other way ...
He carne out of his dark musing to find that the word had been given and the herd was already on the move, the point riders leading the way, the swing and flank men stringing the cattle out into a long line. Two men looked after the "drag," and behind came the remuda, in charge of the horse-wrangler, and the wagon. The Great Adventure had begun.
Under the blazing sun the herd tramped steadily on. No great difficulty was anticipated until they crossed the Colorado River, the country south of that being familiar to most of the men. Nightfall found them camped near a little creek. From where the cattle were settling down came a somewhat cracked voice wailing the interminable verses of "The Cowboy's Lament" and one of the men squatting at the fireside laughed.
"Lucky cows ain't got no ear for music," he said. "The Infant's screech would start a stampede."
For Sudden, riding moodily round the herd, watching first one and then another sink down to sleep, the night brought only the opportunity to brood over his own troubles. Little more than hall a mile away he could see the gleam of the campfire ; if the men sitting round it knew who he was, they would hang him before dawn. And for this he had to thank Rogue, whom he was there to serve. Idly he wondered what the outlaw was doing, or about to do, and then swore savagely that he did not care. Which was not the truth.
Having watched the herd depart and waved an ironical farewell, Baudry turned his horse's head towards San Antonio. Five miles along the trail, squatting with his back against a spreading cedar, a man was waiting. Baudry got down, glad to avail himself of the shade.
"Well, Navajo, the S E drive has started," he said. "What are Rogue's plans?"
The half-breed grinned unpleasantly. "yu better ask him," he retorted. "His word was that he'd do the job--his own way."
The gambler's face reddened but he summoned a smile. "Suits me, so long as it's done," he replied. "Sam seems pretty confident."
"He ain't got a chanct," the other stated.
"I think he has," Baudry said coolly. "In fact, I have so strong a belief in my friend Eden's courage and determination that I'd be willing to wager that he'll take his cattle through and return safely to his ranch."
The ruffian laughed evilly. "Shore yu would," he sneered. "How much?"
"One thousand dollars."
"I'm takin' yore bet. Give it me in writin'--I got a shockin' memory." The jeer in the man's voice was insulting but Baudry chose to ignore it.
"you needn't worry, I always pay my debts," he said. Nevertheless, he wrote a few words in a notebook, tore out the page and passed it to the other. Navajo grinned as he tucked it away in a pocket.
"Money from home," he chuckled. "This ain't nothin' to do with Rogue, yu savvy? So long."
The gambler stood watching his receding form, his thick lips set in grim threat.
"There's more than one way of paying a debt, you scum," he snarled. "When you've served your purpose ..."
Chapter VIII
THE Colorado River had been reached without any untoward incident, and the S E drive was camped on the south bank waiting for daylight to make the crossing. So far, everything had gone well, and, with perfect weather, the herd had made good time. Supper was over, and 'the foreman, Sudden, and several others were smoking beside the fire, for, though the days were hot, the evenings were chill. There was a thicket to the right of the camp--the first timber they had seen for days--and the cook was busy chopping wood and loading it into the rawhide slung beneath the wagon, for his store of buffalo "chips"--the only fuel to be found on the plains--was getting low.
"Well, trail-drivin' suits me. Why, it won't be no trick a-tall to push the bunch into Kansas."
This from the gangling youth known as "Infant." The foreman surveyed him sardonically.
"Bein' a kid I s'pose yu gotta talk like one," he said. "If yu think it's all goin' to be like this yu got another guess comin'. An' that kind o' yap is shore unlucky. 01' Man Trouble allus camps on the tail of a trail-herd, an' we'll hear from him soon enough without askin' for it."
"That's so," agreed another, who, being reputed to be the biggest liar in Texas, was called "Truthful."
"I remember once--"
"Forget it twice," Jeff snapped. "What's come o' Sands? He ain't with the herd."
No one seemed to know. He had eaten with the rest of them and then slipped away. Sudden had seen him go and smothered an impulse to follow because he had a feeling that the boy had avoided him of late. He glanced round the camp, but there was no sign of the missing man. Against the dark background of the trees the little tent used by the women gleamed whitely. A few yards away from it, Sam Eden leaned on the wagon-tongue and chatted with the cook. Then, out of a thick tangle of bushes some forty paces from the wagon came a spurt of flame, followed by the vicious crack of a gun, and the sturdy figure of the rancher staggered and fell.
"Hell's bells!" Jeff cried, and ran to the stricken man.
The others followed, ail save Sudden, who raced tor the spot whence the shot had come. Noiselessly he searched, peering into the gloomy depths of the brush, listening for the snap of a breaking twig which would tell of a stealthy retreat, but he saw and heard nothing. Then came a careless footstep, a slouching figure swung into view and halted at Sudden's curt command.
"'Lo, Jim. What's the bright idea, stickin' up yore friends?" asked a familiar voice.
It was Sandy, and despite himself, a note of suspicion crept into Sudden's question, "What are yu doin' here?"
"Goin' back to camp ; what yu reckon?"
"Where yu been?"
"Pickin' flowers," came the ironic reply.
"Quit foolin'," Sudden said sternly. "Sam Eden was shot from 'bout here less'n a quarter of an hour back."
"Sam--Eden--shot?" Sandy repeated. "God! An' yo're guessin' I did it?"
"I ain't doin' any guessin'," Sudden told him. "I came to catch the skunk an' bump into yu. Come clean:"
"Is he hurt bad?"
"I didn't wait to see ; Jeff an' some o' the boys is there. yu ain't answered my question."
"I had nothin' to do with it, Jim," the boy said hoarsely, "but it's likely I saw the fella. Mebbe ten minutes or so ago, a mere shadow, slippin' through the bush. I didn't give it much attention--reckoned it was Lasker, goin' after his hosses--but it may not have been him a-tall. Hell! it'll break his gal's heart." Sudden's silence told him there was more to say. "yu hear an owl hootin' while we fed?" he asked.
"yeah, an' judged he was a pretty early bird," Sudden said.
The other nodded. "Overlookin' details like that'll land Rogue's neck in a noose some day," he remarked. "yeah, I ,;aw him."