Sudden nodded; it was a jest which would appeal to the elder Burdette, and he could picture his unholy glee in thus playing cat and mouse with his captives. Purdie paused again in his perambulation.
"He can kill Luce an' welcome--it's on'y a Burdette less in the world an' all to the good," he rapped out. "Do yu reckon he'd dare do what he threatens to my daughter?"
"I am quite sure of it," the visitor said coldly.
The old man glared at her. "An' yu stand for that?" he asked.
"What is it to do with me?"
"She's a woman--like yoreself."
Lu Lavigne smiled bitterly. "No, she is not a woman like myself," she retorted. "Nan Purdie is a superior being, with a college education, a wealthy father, and far too proud to look at the keeper of a drinking-saloon. Why should I worry what happens to her? How should it concern me if you and King Burdette have a difference and he takes his own way of settling it?"
The foreman was watching her, and under the steady scrutiny of those grey-blue eyes her own dropped. Then he spoke, quietly :
"Possibly yu have a right to think like that, but yu--don't," he said. "Is there any way yu can help us, ma'am?"
She shook her head. "I can do nothing. King Burdette holds all the cards."
The cattleman's harsh voice cut in : "Yo're a particular friend o' his, ain't yu?"
The girl's manner was instantly hostile again. "Has that anything to do with it?" she said icily.
"I figure it might have," the rancher replied. "Yo're one o' the cards he don't hold at the moment; s'pose we keep yu here?"
Mrs. Lavigne's laugh was genuine. "Do you really imagine King would let that interfere with his plans?" she asked. "You should study your enemies better, sir." Her voice took on a touch of acid. "And what would the town think? A most respectable citizen entertaining a dance-hall drab at his most respectable ranch in the absence of his most respectable daughter. Why, Mister Purdie, even your most respectable foreman will tell you that it wouldn't do at all."
The gibing, scornful tirade ended; the speaker was watching Sudden, who appeared to be searching for something. Noting her interested gaze, he explained.
"I'm lookin' for that foreman yu was mentionin'," he said quizzically. The disarming grin, which brought tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes, drove the ill-humour from the girl's face and brought a look of contrition instead.
"I'm a nasty little spitfire," she murmured. "I take it all back."
"Which means we ain't respectable," Sudden smiled. "Ma'am, I'm thankin' yu." Then he added gravely, "But this ain't helpin' us."
Purdie, who had thrown himself into a chair, glaring moodily at the ground, now looked up. His face, grey and haggard, was set with resolve.
"I've gotta sign, Jim," he said slowly. "As Mrs. Lavigne" --it was the first time he had used her name, and it brought the ghost of a smile to her lips--"says, he holds the cards. It'll mean startin' life all over again--for every-thin' I got is in the ranch--but sooner that than hurt should come to Nan. It won't be the first time I've been set afoot."
For a space no one spoke. The girl's eyes were downcast, and the foreman appeared to be concerned only in the construction of a cigarette.
"Shore looks thataway, Purdie," he said presently, "but there's a kink in the rope that has to be straightened out first. The C P is another card Burdette don't hold--yet; sign that paper an' yu fill his hand. Who's to guarantee he'll keep his word? Me, I ain't trustin' him as far as I could throw a steer."
"How'd yu propose to get around it?" the rancher asked dully.
"That's what we gotta figure out, an' it'll need sleepin' on," Sudden told him. He turned to the messenger. "Yu can tell Burdette he'll have his answer in the mornin', an' that's final," he said, and opened the door leading to the verandah.
Lu Lavigne went without a word and the foreman followed her. Not until she was standing beside her pony did she venture a protest.
"You are taking a big risk," she said.
"I'm used to it," he grinned. "Takin' risks is the salt o' life--for a man." Then, with apparent irrelevance, "Yu are too nice a woman to be mixed up in a mess o' this sort."
With a gesture of impatience, she disdained his proffered help and swung into her saddle. Always this sardonic, gravely-smiling man baffled her.
"But where's the sense in it? At the first sign of attack on the Circle B the girl--pays," she urged. "You know Purdie will have to sign in the morning--there is no other way."
"I reckon yo're right--mebbe," he agreed.
With a little shrug of despair, she sent her pony clattering down the trail. Sudden watched till she rounded the bend, before turning to re-enter the ranch-house.
"I said `mebbe,' Mrs. Lavigne," he smiled.
He found Purdie hunched up at the table, gloomily fingering the document which would take away practically all he possessed and rob him of the result of his life's work. This, following the loss of his son and the peril in which his daughter was placed, had brought him, tough as he was, near to breaking-point. But Chris Purdie had lived a life full of hard lessons and had learned to "take his medicine" without whining. So that it was a fighting face which greeted the foreman, grief-lined but determined, with narrowed eyes and clamped jaw, the face of one who could be crushed but never heaten while breath was in his body.
"Well, Jim, what's the idea?" he asked. "I'm s'posin' yu got one, or yu wouldn't take the chance o' Burdette not waitin'."
"He'll do that," Sudden said confidently. "He figures he's got us cinched, an' besides, he wants Miss Purdie hisself--which is one reason why he won't play fair."
The knuckles of the rancher's clenched hands showed white beneath the tanned skin. "But that woman said " he began.
"He's double-crossin' her--she's been persuaded that he's on'y usin' yore girl to get the ranch, but Luce has told us different," the foreman pointed out. "Signin' that paper won't fetch Miss Purdie back, though it might save her somethin'," he finished awkwardly.
The elder man rasped out an oath. "I'd sooner see her dead than tied to that spawn o' the Devil. Spill yore plan, Jim."
"I'm goin' to try Luce's trick, but in a different way. If I can't get them..."
"Them?" interrupted the rancher brusquely. "Yu ain't goin' to bother about that Burdette fella, are yu?"
"He went there to save yore daughter," Sudden reminded.
The owner of the C P was a fair-minded man, not afraid to admit when he was in the wrong. "That's so, Jim; sorry I forgot, but the very name o' Burdette is pizen to me. Yu ain't said how yu propose to get 'em. I don't cotton to the notion o' yu bein' alone."
"She's the on'y chance--the place'll be guarded," Sudden told him. "It'll mean Injun work, but I was raised amongst redskins."
"An' I gotta sit here doin' nothin'?" Purdie grumbled. "Not any; yo're goin' to have one busy session. Soon as I'm away, round up the boys. Tell 'em to come, fixed for trouble. Yu got any friends yu can trust in town?"
Purdie nodded.
"Send 'em word to meet yu some place, but they gotta get away without anyone knowin', 'specially the marshal. Yu Babe?"
The rancher nodded again. His air of despondency had vanished and his eyes were shining; the prospect of action was meat and drink to him.
"When yo're all set, fetch the men to the Circle B an' plant 'em in the brush to wait for the signal, which will be a 'Pache war-cry--twice. That'll mean we're clear o' the house an' yu can start to clean up. I don't know how long it will take me, but I figure yu won't get that signal till around daybreak. Yu gotta hold the boys back; if they start the ruckus too soon, there'll be hell to pay an' no pitch hot."
A grim smile flitted across the cattleman's rugged features. "Don't yu worry 'bout that," he assured. "They'll be good; they think a heap o' Nan, an' damn near as much o' yu. Get the prisoners in the open an' we'll give them Battle Butte bushwhackers somethin' else to occupy 'em. I'm a mite curious how yu aim to do it?"