`Bull's forkin' that same boss right now,' someone pointed out. `I ain't shore we didn't oughta do what Pilch sez.' The ring of threatening faces made the sheriff's heart skip a beat; Western mobs were easily inflamed, and his friends the cattlemen and their outfits were far away.
`I was on'y tryin' to do my dooty,' he protested lamely.
Jeers greeted the statement. The nester stepped forward and took the warrant from the officer's nerveless fingers.
`I'll see Towler myself about this,' he said. `Twice you've planned to put somethin' over on me; the third time won't be lucky--for you. Now, get out.'
`An' stay out,' the saloon-keeper added.
The sheriff and his deputy slouched through the door, and the latter made no secret of his feelings. `It ain't offen I'm glad to leave a saloon, but I'm admittin' this is one o' the times,' he said. `We wasn't a bit pop'lar in there.'
`If it's popularity yo're after you got the wrong joo,' his boss
told him. `As for them sots, they jaw plenty but dasn't do any-thin'. I'd like to give Bull my candid opinion.'
`Shall I find him for you?' Wall-eye offered.
`I can do that for myself--if I want him,' the sheriff said, knowing perfectly well that he would not. He had courage of a kind, but it was not of the quality necessary to bully Bardoe.
The nester and his friends followed soon after, making their way to the Judge's office, which adjoined the court-room, and was part of the gaol building. An unceremonious entrance brought the judicial feet from the desk-top to the ground, and a look of astonishment from their owner as he recognised the leading visitor.
`What are you doing here?' he asked, with as much dignity as a man caught napping might immediately muster.
`Not expectin' me, Towler, huh?'
`Hardly--in this part of the premises,' the Judge retorted. Drait threw the warrant on the desk. `Did you sign that?' `Certainly, it is one of my duties.'
`Do you require proof that the person named may be guilty?' `Evidence is the sheriff's affair; I deal with it when I try the case.'
`Are you aware that Bardoe--the man that paper accuses me of killin'--rode into town, alive an' well, less'n half an hour ago?'
The Judge sat up straight. `Are you insinuating--?'
`No, I'm just tellin' you,' Drait cut in harshly. `In front of twenty others, Camort said I was to be tried an' hanged before sunset--that I hadn't a chance. An' this for a crime which existed on'y in his--an' yore--imagination.'
`This is an outrage,' Towler spluttered, but his watery eyes dropped before the fierce gaze of the nester. `Shore is,' the latter agreed drily. `Whan you goin' to do about it?'
The Judge re-lighted the stub of a cigar, and remembered that he was an important personaget `I was referring to the insult directed against myself,' he replied. `Any difference you have with the sheriff is no concern of mine.' He was rather proud of this effort.
`An' the recent murder of two men in Shadow Valley is also no concern o' yores?' Drait asked cynically. `I am not here to discover or arrest malefactors,' Towler said disdainfully. `I am answerable only to the Law--'
`An' the Governor who appointed yu,' Sudden reminded.
The Judge looked at this hard-featured man whose cold, level voice he heard for the first time. This must be the fellow who had crippled the sheriff. He decided not no reply.`Yo're forgettin' Stinker an' the cattlemen,' Drait said.
The taunt stung like a whip-lash. Quivering with rage, the badgered jurist cried, `I won't put up with this; I'll have you charged with contempt of court, and...'
`I'll plead guilty to that,' was the biting reply. `Listen, Towler; I came here to find out whether you were fool or crook. Yo're both, but you haven't the guts to be real bad, or to run winh the rats who are usin' you. Yo're on the wrong trail, an' it'll land you in the pen--if you live. Adios.' With which ironical farewell, the visitors filed out. Towler sat staring at the closed door for some moments, and then opened a drawer, produced a flask, and took a hearty pull at it.
`Damn Bardoe,' he said fervently.
Chapter V
`Where we bound for, Jim?' Yorky wanted to know when they set off on the following morning.
Payin' a visit to Mister Bardoe,' Sudden said. `But we ain't intendin' to intrude, in fact, we're goin' to be real shy. What's yore opinion o' Nick?'
The boy thought for a moment. `A mighty good friend and a damn bad enemy,' he replied. `If th' other man fights dirty, he'll do th' same, or wuss.'
Sudden nodded. `That's how I figure him.' He glanced slyly at his companion. `I dunno how things'll break, but backin' his play won't exactly be a pleasure trip.'
`If yo're worryin' about me, forget it,' Yorky said. `Think I wanta ride around gazin' at scenery? I like action.'
They were headed west, through a jumbled mess of country--open plain, forested slopes, stony, dry ravines, all of which led to higher ground. In front, but miles distant, rose a wide, flat-topped bluff.
`That'll be Table Mesa,' Sudden remarked. `Somewhere around there is Mister Bardoe's hang-out. If we run into him, keep yore hat pulled down; he's had a look at yu.'
`Not much o' one, 'less he's got eyes in th' back of his head,' the boy laughed. `Allasame, there's times I like to be forgotnen.'
As they drew nearer to the Mesa the surface of the country became less irregular; stretches of good grazing studded with mottes of scrub-oak, thorn, and cactus were frequent, and in the distance, moving spots which could only be cattle. Not wishing to be seen, the intruders were forced to skirt the edges of these open spaces, where the brush afforded cover. Presently, in a secluded grassy hollow, they came upon a dozen or more steers. The animals appeared no be disturbed, restless, and now and again one would turn no lick its haunch. There was a lingering odour of burnt hair, and on one side of the hollow a tiny curl of blue smoke from the remains of a fire.
`Fresh brands,' Sudden remarked. `If they're 8 B it's none of our business.'
They edged their horses slowly forward until the tell-tale marks could be read. `Double X an' the bottom halves is new--put on within the hour,' the puncher commented. `Up to then they were owned by the Double V. This is gettin' interestin'.'
They went on, discovering more Double X cattle, these with the alterations partly healed, and then lighted on a bunch bearing the brand 8 B.
`That's his own, same as on th' hoss he rode into th' valley,' Yorky said.
`Take another squint, son,' the elder man advised. "Bout a coupla weeks back, these were S P steers. See where the S has been turned into the figure, an' a lower loop added to the P?'
'Yo're right, Jim,' Yorky agreed. `I don't know it all yet.'
`An' that's allus worth findin' out,' Sudden smiled. `Wonder why he's keepin' off Cullin?'
`Mebbe he ain't; we just don't happen to 'a' found 'em'
They continued the search, but a broad expanse of open range compelled them to stay in the shelter of the undergrowth, and they found no more cattle. On the edge of a small clearing they halted; in it stood a largish log building, one-storied, and of uncared-for appearance. This, they guessed, must be the 8 B ranch-house. Screened by the trees, they waited, and presently a rider, coming from the east, loped across the plain and pulled up. They saw him pass, heard his hail, `Hello, the house,' and a gruff greeting.
`Gilman, of the S P, by thunder!' Sudden muttered, and slid from his saddle. `I'm goin' to take a chance; stay put--yo're my ace in the hole.'
There was a window facing them, and it was partly open. Stooping and moving swiftly, Sudden reached and crouched beneath it. Two men were within, evidently the host and his visitor, for there was a clink of bottle against glass.
`Here's how, Jack,' the gruff voice said. `An' what brought you this way?'
`Well, I hears yo're dead, an' then that you ain't,' Gilman replied. `Figured I'd better come over an' find out my chances o' collectin' for that hundred head I let you lift.'