They swung their horses round and disappeared into the darkness, leaving a most uncomfortable peace-officer with an unwelcome corpse, a few sceptical spectators, and a gnawing fear in his mind. How much had Tomini `talked'?
Chapter XIV
AT the S P the routine of ranch life was being resumed. The excitement of arranging her new home over, Mary began to take an active interest in the outside work. Here she found Yorky invaluable, for though he was far from being the complete cattleman, Sudden and the Circle Dot outfit had taught him a great deal, and his sharp wits enabled him to apply his knowledge. So the girl was in a position to tackle her task not entirely as a novice.
`That lawyer chap at Rideout must be either dumb or crooked to let these figures get by,' Yorky remarked.
They were examining Gilman's record of expenditure; the book was an amazing specimen of inefficiency or carelessness, to put it mildly. There were no receipts, dates often omitted, and payments made without any reason being given. All the riders appeared to have drawn `advances' but there was nothing toshow these had been repaid. A constantly recurring item was `Stores,' always purchased--as Mary had already learned from Milton--by the foreman.
`An' if he spent forty bucks an' charged fifty, nobody's any th' wiser,' Yorky pointed out.
The girl was studying the book with knitted brows. `It seems no me that none of the outfit is entitled to wages for at least a month,' she said.
`I wouldn't gamble on that, ma'am,' he replied. `They all say Gilman was easy to deal with, allus ready to make an advance, but he never forgot to deduct it on pay-day. I'll bet he pocketed those repayments, an' with full wages entered agin his name, how's th' hand goin' to prove he made 'em? Either Seale never saw this book, or he was gettin' a rake-off.'
`But he's a lawyer.'
`Th' more a fella knows 'bout the laws th' easier for him to break 'em.'
`I'll destroy the wretched thing, start another, and keep it myself.'
`Don't you,' Yorky urged. `Take care o' that book; there's evidence to send Gilman to th' pen for a long spell.'
`But I've no wish for that. It's clear he robbed the ranch, but he did not know I existed.'
`He did his durndest to get an innocent man strung up for rustlin',' the boy reminded. `An' failin', tried to bump him off.'
`What do you mean?' she cried.
Yorky had ridden into Midway that morning, where he heard various versions of the bushwhacking episode, and from them had gleaned a fairly accurate statement of the facts. White of face, she listened to his bald recital, and in a voice which had a strain of harshness, gave her decision:
`I will put the book in a safe place.'
`There's another reason for keepin' it. You ain't had yore bill from Seale yet, have you?'
`Why, no, but--'
`Mebbe if you ask him to explain it, he'll take a more modest view of his services,' Yorky grinned. `Life's a game, an' you can't afford to throw away good cards.'
She laughed too, and shook a finger at him. `You are older than your age.'
`I growed fast--fella had to where I was raised. Don't you
trust th' law-sharp, ma'am. Jim reckons he's a twister.'
`And Jim is always right.' In a tone of gentle raillery.
`Shore thing,' Yorky said stoutly. `If he said I was a waster, I'd believe it.'
`I'm not saying a word against your Jim--I owe him too much. I only hope he approves of poor me.'
`I'll say he does, or you wouldn't be here--Jim don't help th' wrong 'uns,' Yorky asserted, and then frowned in perplexity. `But he helped me, an' I was pretty ornery.' His face cleared as he arrived at a solution. `Reckon there's a spot o' good in me I don't savvy.'
He went out, unmindful of the fact that her eyes were moist. The thought of the bushwhacking chilled her blood. Two inches lower and Shadow Valley would have lost its master, and she.... No, that was unthinkable--horrible.
Sturm, when she informed him of her decision about the ranch accounts, looked somewhat glum. `Meanin' you don't trust me?' he asked bluntly.
`Certainly not,' she replied. `You have enough to do, and I need something to occupy my own time. One thing more : I want to know how much stock I have. Please have the cattle collected, counted, and properly marked.'
Yorky had told her, `rounded up, tallied, and branded,' but nervousness in giving the first real order to her foreman brought forgetfulness. Sturm received the suggestion without enthusiasm.
`That's a big job, ma'am, an' we ain't got the men to handle it,' he objected. `Likewise, with the Fall round-up due in a few months--when it'll have to be done again--it shore looks a waste o' time. You ain't crowded here, the grass is good, an' stock not liable to stray. I'm advisin' you to wait; in the meantime, the boys can carry strait irons, an' watch out for unbranded beasts.'
`I'll think it over, Sturm,' she said, and went to where her pony was waiting.
The morning ride was something she would not willingly miss.
She did not ride far, however, confining her excursions to an area within easy reach of the ranch-house. Frequently, after traversing a shaded aisle, or emerging from a brake, she would come upon groups of long-horned, fierce-eyed cattle which scattered at the sight of her, but putting into practice Yorky's advice to `edge up on 'em like you wasn't interested,' she was able to make out the brand. On this morning the discovery of several on which it was missing brought Sturm's suggestion to her mind again. She must have another opinion.
Returning to the ranch-house, she saw the foreman conversing with a visitor; it was Cullin. Sturm led her pony away as she greeted the rancher.
`Just had to come,' he said. `Seems a long time since I saw you.'
`But it isn't,' she protested.
`I said "seems," ' he reminded. `My, but the air up here certainly suits you.' The warmth in eyes and voice told her it was no empty compliment, and the flush it caused added to her charm.
`A hard-working cattle-woman has no leisure for pretty speeches,' she said lightly. `A little advice would be more acceptable.'
`About countin' yore stock? Yeah, Sturm mentioned it'peared uneasy at havin' to oppose you. But he was right, you know.'
`If I haven't the hands now, I shan't have them in the Fall,' she argued.
`Let me explain,' he said. `For the Spring an' Fall round-ups the cattlemen work together, arranging the time far each ranch. When yore turn comes, you will have two riders from the Big C, Double V, an' 8 B. In return, you will help them out the same way. This saves all of us the trouble an' excuse o' takin' on extra hands for short periods. Of course, if yo're set on it, I could spare--'
`No, I see it is unnecessary,' she interrupted. `I should have had more faith in my foreman.'
`Well, he might have made it clearer,' Cullin excused. `He's mighty anxious to please you an' I envy him the opportunity.' She ignored that, and he went on, `House open for inspection yet?'
There was no escape. `The sitting-room is presentable,' she admitted.
They went in, and, as at Shadow Valley, he was struck by the neatness, taste, and comfort. The furniture he had seen before, in the former owner's time, out now it was polished until it shone; a large square of carpet hid the board floor, dainty curtains draped the long glass door leading on to the veranda, and a sheaf of flowers--the waxen blooms of the Spanish bayonet--decorated the taole. Cullin sank into one of the roomy chairs.
`Wonderful!' he said, and it was evident that he meant it. `You mustn't give me all the credit,' she said earnestly. `Aunt Lindy helped enormously.'
`I'm not interested in Aunt Lindy,' he replied.
Mary repressed a smile; the Negress felt that way too. His eyes followed her covetously as, remembering her duty as hostess, she produced whisky, a tumbler, and water.