"Would ye be after stayin' wid us, Mister Green?" he asked.
"I'm all undecided," the puncher told him with a smile. "I like the look o' the lay-out, but, yu see, my appetite keeps regular hours, an' I gotta work. I had a notion to find me a gold-mine."
The saloon-keeper regarded him humorously. "Good for ye," he replied. "But take it from me, the best way to look for wan is from the back of a hoss somewan is payin' ye to ride."
The hint was plain enough, and the man to whom it was given nodded a smiling acquiescence. "I guess yo're right," he said. "As a matter o' fact, I'm seein' Purdie in the mornin'."
The remark, coming from a stranger, amounted to a question, and the Irishman took it as such. "A good man, Purdie," he said. "His, sort, they don't make 'em no better." He studied the other furtively for a few moments and decided that he was capable of taking care of himself. Nevertheless, he uttered an indirect warning. "Chris is takin' the loss of his only boy hard," he went on. "I misdoubt it'll mean bad throuble between the C P an' the Circle B, which is the Burdette brand. Easy now, here's a couple of them."
Through the swing-doors came two men in cowboy trappings, tall, big-boned, dark of hair and brow, with bold, hard faces and insolent, dominant eyes. Though one was a few years the elder, and a veritable giant in build, they were sufficiently alike for their relationship to be obvious. Magee looked uneasy.
"Mart an' Sim Burdette," he said in an undertone. "Pretty well primed too, begad." Then, as he turned to welcome the newcomers, the puncher caught the added words, "An ugly pair to draw to."
Through narrowed eyes Sudden watched the brothers swagger up to the bar, and decided that the landlord was right. He noted that each wore only one gun in sight, a heavy Colt's .45, slung below the right hip. Though they were laughing, their eyes were as cold as those of a snake. They greeted the saloon-keeper boisterously and inquired for the marshal. At that moment Slype came in.
"Hey, Slippery, I hear yo're tryin' to pin this Purdie play on the Burdettes," Mart--the bigger man--said threateningly.
"Yu heard a lie," the marshal retorted. "One or two things sorta suggested Luce, but he claims he had nothin' to do with it."
"Did yu expect he'd own up?" sneered the other. "An' if he did down Purdie I'll say he done a good job, though it don't even the score. What yu goin' to do about it?"
He glared round the room as though daring anyone present to dispute his callous assertion. The marshal, who knew the challenge was directed chiefly at himself, shrugged his shoulders in a poor assumption of indifference.
"Ain't no call for me to concern m'self," he replied. "Like I told Luce, Ol' Man Purdie reckons him an' his outfit can deal with it."
"Is that so?" Mart growled. "Wants a fight, does he? Well, that suits us fine, eh, Sim?"
The younger brother laughed. "Yu betcha," he agreed.
Slype made a gesture for appearance' sake. "Now, see here, Mart, a range war ain't goin' to do this yer town no good," he protested. "All Chris wants, I reckon, is to find out who bumped off his boy."
"Bah! He's plastered it on the Burdettes a'ready," Sim said angrily. "Awright, we'll let it go as it lays; the Burdettes can take care o' theirselves."
"An' whose side are yu on, anyways, Slippery?" snapped Mart.
"I represent the law, an' I'm agin both o' yu," the marshal evaded, a reply which drew an ironic laugh from the brothers. "Where's King? Left him at Lu Lavigne's, I reckon?"
"Yu reckon pretty good," Sim replied, adding slyly, "Why not send if yu want him?"
"I don't," the officer said hastily. "I just asked. What about a little game?"
Sudden stayed a while longer, hoping to see the eldest of the Burdettes, but was disappointed. Weldon, the blacksmith, a bluff, bearded giant with whom he got into conversation, explained the marshal's reference to King's whereabouts. He would be at "The Plaza," the only real rival establishment to "The Lucky Chance." It was owned and run by a woman, who had bought out the former proprietor less than a year before. Save that she was young, attractive, and wise to her business, nothing was known of her.
"Calls herself Mrs. Luisa Lavigne, but no husband ain't showed up yet," the blacksmith said. "She's certainly restful to the sight, but I'm layin' she's got Spanish blood in her, an' a temper to match. Soon after she hung out her shingle, a cowboy tries to get fresh with her, an' she slips a knife into him middlin' prompt. No, he didn't die, but it shorely puts a crimp in his affection.
O' course, it don't stop others sufferin' from the same complaint, but it makes 'em careful, an' when King Burdette starts hangin' round, most of 'em loses interest."
Sudden ventured to ask one direct question, and to his surprise, received an answer.
"If it comes to a fight, I opine Purdie would have most of the town against him?"
"Stranger, Purdie is liked, but the Burdettes is feared."
Which was exactly what the puncher wanted to know.
Chapter V
THE C P ranch-house occupied a little plateau in the foothills around the base of Old Stormy, facing the great valley in which, ten miles distant, lay the town of Windy. Solidly built of 'dobe bricks and shaped logs, with chimneys of stone, it had an imposing appearance despite the fact that it consisted of one storey only. A broad, covered verandah, paved with pieces of rock, stretched along the front of the building, and to the left were the bunkhouse, barns, and corrals. A few cottonwoods, spared when the ground had been first cleared, provided shade. At the back of the house a grassy slope climbed gently to the black pines which belted the mountain. Sudden found the owner on the verandah.
"Mornin', friend," Purdie greeted, and pulled forward a chair. "That's a good hoss yu got."
"Shore is," replied the puncher, and waited.
"Made them plans yet?" came the question, and when the visitor replied in the negative, another silence ensued. Sudden was aware that the cattleman was sizing him up, turning over some problem. Presently he straightened as though he had come to a decision.
"Kit was my foreman," he said slowly. "Like his job?"
The puncher stared at him in surprise; he had expected an offer to ride for the ranch, but not to be put in charge. His reply was non-committal :
"Yore outfit won't admire takin' orders from a stranger."
"Yu needn't worry about that; they're good boys an' they'll back my judgment," Purdie said confidently. "Yu see, it ain't just a question o' runnin' the ranch--a'most any one o' them could do that--but outguessin' that Bur-dette crowd is a hoss of a different brand. I'm gamblin' yu can swing it--if yo're willin' to take the risk."
The visitor's jaw hardened. "Here's somethin' yu oughts to know," he said, and went on to relate the scene he had witnessed in "The Lucky Chance" the previous evening. The cattleman nodded gloomily.
"Yu'll be buyin' into trouble a-plenty," he said. "I dunno as it's fair to ask yu. Them Burdettes is the toughest proposition. For about a year past there's been doin's---bank robberies, stage hold-ups, cattle-stealin's, within a radius of a hundred miles, an' that gang on Battle Butte is suspected. They's a hard lot--half of 'em ain't cowmen a-tall, just gun-fighters, an' there's twice the number necessary to handle their herds. I sent a writing to Governor Bleke--rode the range with him when we was both kids tellin' him how things was an' that the Burdettes was a plain menace, but I s'pose he's a busy man; I ain't had no reply."
"I reckon mebbe I'm it," Sudden smiled, and went on to tell of the happenings in Juniper, omitting, however, the name his gun-play had earned for him.