`Why should I be?' she retorted. `I'm glad you escaped, but
`One man's as good as another, huh?' he sneered. `Mebbe better, if he buys you fine fixin's. Allasame, yo're wrong--Drait ain't goin' to last ten flicks of a cow's tail. He makes mistakes; the man who steals my hoss, money, an' woman, has gotta take my life too.'
`I was not your woman,' Mary said furiously. `And
`Don't say it,' he grated. `We're startin' for the 8 B right now.'
He dragged her pony's head round. Suddenly she remembered, drew her revolver from the holster, and levelled it at his head. `Get away from me or I'll fire,' she threatened.
For an instant he paused, staring, and then, with a grin, came closer. She pulled the trigger, but only a click resulted; she had neglected Drait's instruction to always reload at once. In anger and disgust she flung the weapon to the ground. Bardoe's laugh was torture.
`I like 'em with guts,' he said. `Yore man should 'a' told you that an empty gun is more dangerous than no gun a-tall.' `He did,' she muttered miserably. `I forgot.'
`Well, well, you'll know better next time--mebbe,' he jeered, and jerked at the rein of the unwilling Brownie. `C'mon, lift yore damn legs, you.'
`Lift yore damn paws, you,' echoed a rather high-pitched but very steady voice.
Bardoe dared not disobey; one glance at the girl's face told him he was trapped. As he made the movement, he risked a lightning peep over his shoulder but got no satisfaction. The newcomer was young, little more than a boy, but there was nothing juvenile about the Winchester he held, finger tight against the trigger; the slightest increase of pressure.... Like most of his kidney, Bardoe was a willing gambler, but here he had no chance; long before he could start anything, hot lead would be boring his body.
`Shuck yore shootin'-irons--all of 'em,' came the curt order. `An' make it snappy.'
The ruffian obeyed; with the enemy behind him, even a gun in his hand was of no use. A pair of revolvers and a rifle dropped to the ground. Lynx-eyed, Yorky watched the operation.
`You all right, ma'am?' he asked.
`Yes,' she replied. `Please let him go.'
Yorky did not approve of this--he wanted to hand the fellow over to Quilt--but the girl was obdurate, and he gave in. 'Yo're playin' in luck, hombre, but don't figure on it,' he said. `Next time you'll be shot on sight. Now fade.'
`Yore turn today, mebbe mine tomorrow,' Bardoe retorted, with a black scowl.
The boy waited until he disappeared, and then, having fetched his horse and collected the forfeited arms, they set out for the house. After she had thanked him warmly--to his great discomfort--she wanted to know how he happened to be at that end of the valley.
`I was lookin' for another way out, an' stickin' close to the cliff,' he explained.
`Did you find one?'
He shook his head. `Ain't finished searchin'.'
She suspected this to be a mere excuse but did not pursue the subject. Yorky, she learned, had come upon the scene only a moment before he intervened and did not know the intruder's identity.
`That was Bardoe,' she told him.
`Hell's gates!' Yorky swore, apologised, and added bitterly. `I savvied we was wrong to turn him loose.'
`That was my doing,' she said.
The reappearance of the man was a shock, and his parting threat told her that she had not seen the last of him. The remembrance of the unconcealed lust in his gaze made her shiver. Odd that she might yet come to regard Drait as ... She drove away the thought impatiently; at the best, he could be no more than the lesser of two evils.
*
The foreman of the S P watched the approaching horseman and grinned crookedly when he recognised him. `Boy, you got a nibble, but you need to play him afore you strike,' he told himself. `He ain't no sucker.' And when the visitor reached the ranch-house, "Lo, Drait, take the weight off'n yore saddle.'
The nester complied, and sat rolling a cigarette, waiting for the other to open the ball.
`How's thing's at Shadow Valley?' Gilman began.
`Fine as silk,' Nick replied easily.
`Been to town lately?'
`Any good reason why I should?'
`No, but there may be one for keepin' away.'
`You ain't referrin' to that bum sheriff, are you?' Drait asked scornfully.
`Not as a good reason,' Gilman laughed. `Allasame, if you do have to go, take yore friend along, an' tell him to be more careful where he plants the pills; shootin' the buttons off'n a rattler may be fine marksmanship but it's pore judgment. Still figure on stayin' in our midst?'
`Shore do--there's plenty room for another range without crowdin' anybody,' Drait replied.
`Well, it ain't worryin' me none,' the foreman said carelessly.
`Mebbe if I owned the S P I'd talk different, but ...' He finished with a shrug.
`You should have a good job here.'
`Don't think it; that law-sharp at Rideout keeps me mighty close-hauled--you'd fancy the damn place belonged to him. I'm runnin' the whole shootin' match an' drawin' a foreman's pay. Is that fair?'
`I'll say it ain't,' the other agreed. `Mebbe the new owner'll make it up to you, when they find him.'
`More likely to turf me out, figurin' to do it better hisself,' Gilman said gloomily. `Started yore herd yet?'
`You said you might do somethin' about that.'
`How about sixty yearlin's an' forty calves at eight bucks per head all round?'
`Sounds cheap.'
`It is, but the ranch is short o' ready coin. It'll be unbranded stock, mostly our'n--my fellas ain't too careful--with mebbe a sprinklin' o' strays, but when yore iron's on 'em it'll be nobody's business.'
His slitted eyes watched the nester closely as he made this proposition, but he saw only what seemed to be appreciation of a real bargain.
`I'm obliged,' Draft said. 'I'll certainly chew on that.'
`Let me know, an' the beasts'll be ready. You can collect at daylight--I don't want it knowed that the S P is pushed for money.'
Drait came away in a thoughtful frame of mind. Either Gilman was deliberately robbing his employers, or he was setting a trap, and it was more than possible he was doing both. Dealing with a lawyer who knew nothing of the cattle business the former would be easy, but the alternative required serious consideration. Probably the foreman was working with the other ranchers, and Drait had no desire to hand them a weapon against himself.
When he arrived at Shadow Valley he found the wall completed, and he had to wait while a grinning Smoky unfastened and flung open a half of the massive gates.
`Well, Boss, here she is,' he said. `Strong enough to stop a stampede, an' six fellas what can shoot'll hold her agin a regiment.'
Drait nodded. `Shouldn't have no more surprises.'
But there was one waiting for him at the house. Mary was at the door, and he almost fancied she was relieved to see him. `There is something you have to know,' she began. `Bardoe is alive.'
With a frown which grew heavier he Iistened to her story.
Only when she had finished did he make the comment. `You let him go?'
`I was to blame,' she replied. `Yorky wanted to hold him.' `Yorky was right.' He looked at her ironically. `You tried to shoot the man, an' then .. .
`I can't explain,' she interrupted passionately.
`I s'pose you thought I'd finish what I'd bungled,' he said, and when she did not deny, `I don't shoot unarmed men--he'd have had an even break, which is more than he gave me. Well, that job's still to do, but there's another I must be seem' to.'
He strode to the bunkhouse, where he found the outfit, all save Smoky. The foreman asked a question.
`Good work,' Drait replied. `But there's a rat-hole at the other end that's gotta be stopped complete an' pronto. Yorky, I'm right obliged to you.'