`You made a sad error,' Vasco laughed. `When you wanta hang a man for murder it's usual to have a corpse; you should 'a' killed Bull first, an' made yore case good.'
Cullin, satisfied with the crushing of Camorn, applied himselfto the more important rebel. `Quit foolin', Vic,' he said testily. `This ain't a laughin' matter.'
`I think it is, an' Midway agrees,' Vasco retorted, as he got up. `Take my advice--go slow with Drait; he's an awkward mouthful an' has useful help. So long.'
Now what's he mean by that?' Bardoe questioned, when the Double V rancher had gone.
`I dunno, but Vic droppin' out thisaway makes a difference,' Cullin admitted. `He's right in one thing--we'll have to take our time an' plan careful.'
`It shouldn't be difficult to plant some Double V cows in Shadow Valley,' Bardoe suggested.
`Too obvious,' Cullin decided bluntly.
It was his way, and Bardoe did not take offence. He despised them all, but a seeming comradeship made it less likely they would suspect him when stock was missing, and he would have made friends with the Devil himself if it would put anything in his pocket.
So, for the time being, Shadow Valley suffered no molestation from without. Sudden and Yorky had journeyed forth again, ostensibly to see some more of the country, but actually to follow up the clue obtained in Rideout. The rest of the outfit, having little to do save guard the gate, smoked, lazed, and played one-cent poker.
The nester and his wife took daily rides together, and the girl used them for her purpose, only to realise that she was making no impression on her companion; considerate, mildly-humorous, his attitude was that of a good-natured brother, and it made her furious. She would have preferred his former harsh, dominating manner. Once or twice she deliberately endeavoured to anger him, out she might have been trying to inflame an iceberg.
In desperation, she resolved on a final test--to make him jealous; if this failed, she had lost, for it would mean that his indifference was real. She began to look a little more kindly upon Lamond when they chanced to meet, and it was not long before the cowboy made an excuse to call at the house--when she was on the veranda--and asked for Drait.
`I am waiting for him now,' she replied.
His grin was impudent. `That's all wrong,' he said. `The fella oughta do the waitin'.'
`Perhaps that doesn't apply in this wild land,' she smiled. `Why not--we ain't savages, but I hope he don't hurry. Ain't seen much o' you lately.'
Before she could reply, Nick appeared. `Lookin' for me, Beau?' he asked.
`Like to visit town, if I ain't needed here,' Lamond explained. `Quilt is foreman,' the nester reminded. `If he doesn't want you, it's all right winh me.'
The cowboy nodded and rode away. `Wasn't that a little severe?' Mary questioned.
`He knew damn well he was wrong,' Nick returned. `When I make a fella foreman I mean him to be just that.' She understood; he was only annoyed because the man was offering a slight to his immediate boss.
`I don't suppose he meant any disrespect to Quilt.'
`I know the breed; puttin' one over on the foreman is just pie to them, but none o' the others would 'a' tried it.'
`You don't like him, do you?'
`No,' he replied, with disconcerting candour, and went out.
He left early on the following morning, and she rode alone up the valley. Ere she had gone far, however, Lamond caught her up, and swept off his hat in a theatrical bow. She ignored his greeting.
`Seein' the Guardian Angel ain't ridin' herd on you today, I guessed I might be welcome,' he explained, with an engaging smile.
`Haven't you any work to do?' she asked.
`Shore, Quilt sent me to look over our han'ful o' beasts, so we're goin' the same way. You can help me round 'em up.'
She gave in, and as he could be quite entertaining when he chose, she was soon glad of his company. The excitement of routing the cattle out of the brush brought a sparkle to her eyes, colour to her cheeks, and the cowboy forgot his caution.
`My, if you were married, you'd make a bonny widow,' he said, with a look she could not innerpret. Instantly her face froze, and she turned her pony. `I must get back to the house; Lindy will be waiting for me.'
`Hey, what's yore hurry?' he cried, but she had gone, and he swore at himself for a clumsy fool. `She ain't a biscuit-shooter, but what made her take it thataway? I wonder if ...'
The girl returned home, angry with herself and the cowboy. She had no particular liking for the man, and had merely designed to use him as a weapon, but his remark had sent a shiver down her spine. Did he suspect anything? She told herself that was impossible, but nevertheless, she was frightened; playing with fire in a lawless land was a dangerous game.
That same evening, Drait--on his way to the bunkhouse--observed a tall, furtive figure slip out and disappear in the direction of the upper end of the valley. Wondering what wastaking Lamond there at such a time, he followed, the darkness making it easy to do so undetected. Like two shadows they moved soundlessly over the turf until they reached the newly-erected barrier, where the leader uttered a low owl-hoot. Drait effaced himself behind a handy bush. The call was answered by another, and then Lamond said :
`That you, Greg?'
`Shore,' was the reply. `Any news for me?'
`Yeah, the cattle came from the S P.'
`How d'you know?'
`Overheard two o' the boys talkin'. Also, one yearlin' had the S P brand; we're still eatin' it, an' the hide was burned.' `Rustled, huh?'
`What d'you guess? Unbranded stock, smuggled in here at dawn,' Beau returned ironically.
The Big C man swore. `So that's his game, huh? Goin' to bleed us one at a time, takin' stuff that can't be traced. In's a good plan, Mister Drait, so long as you keep it dark. Anythin' else?'
`Well, I dunno as it'll interest you, but them new fellas, Green an' Yorky, paid a visit to Rideout an' went to see the Weasel.' `The hell they did. What about?'
`Yore guess is as good as mine,' the cowboy replied. `No, Cullin, the bag is empty--like my pocket.'
`Which is allus empty,' the rancher grumbled. `Here's a fifty for you.'
`It'll be as welcome as a pretty woman, which reminds me, Drait has certainly picked a Lulu; you oughta see her.'
Women--pretty or otherwise--don't attract me,' Cullin said. `So long.'
The nester waited unnil the cowboy was well on his way, and then returned to the ranch-house. So Green's instinct had served him truly--Lamond was a spy, and had come to him for that purpose. He glared grimly into the velvet blackness of the night; in the morning he would deal with the matter.
He rose early, breakfasted, and went to the bunkhouse; Beau was not there. Re-entering the house, he became aware of a wheedling voice from the parlour:
`Aw, honey, why don't you come away with me? I can make plenty coin, an' we'll go places, an' see life. I'll treat you right. Drait's finished here....'
Lamond had his back to the door, and was facing the girl across the table. Her widened eyes warned him, and he turned to find the man of whom he was speaking. For a moment both were silent, then the nester said quietly :
`Did you wanta see me, Beau?'
The cowboy's expression showed relief--he had not been overheard. `Why, yeah, I'd like to go into town.'
`To spend that fifty-dollar bill?'
The man's eyes narrowed, but he said jauntily, `I don't get you; fifties an' me has bin strangers quite a while.'
`When I took you on, yore tale was that Cullin had acted mean,' Drait said slowly. `It was all a lie, part of a plot to betray me. Don't trouble to deny it; I heard every word you told Cullin, an' watched you receive the price of yore treachery, you dirty Judas.'
Lamond tried to brazen it out. `Anythin' goes agin a cow-thief,' he sneered. `Cullin will smash you.' Drait was pondering. `If I told the boys there'd be another grave in the Valley. I don't wanta pollute it with muck, but you deserve to die.'