"Sorta levels up for poor ol' Tim," one said.
"Huh!" Lanky snorted. "A dozen Greasers wouldn't do that."
The jubilation was not quite universal, several of the older men taking a pessimistic view of the matter. Turvey spoke plainly.
"Askin' for trouble, I'd say," was how he put it. "What's a few steers compared with a man's life?"
"How about that time yu shot a fella for tryin' to cheat yu out'n a measly ten dollars?" Frosty asked, recalling a story Turvey was fond of telling.
"That was different," the other defended.
"Yeah, the dollars was yourn, the steers is the 01' Man's," was the pointed reply.
"Yu kids think yu know it all, an' then some. When yu git yore growth ..."
Lazy headed off the impending quarrel. "What d'yu reckon Mister Satan will do?" he enquired of the company at large.
"Tuck his tail into his rump an' punch the breeze, pronto, o' course," Turvey sneered. "Me, I'd be scared to death to know Frosty was after my scalp."
That young man shared in the laugh. "Yu ain't got no scalp, yu bald-headed ol' buzzard," he said genially.
Lagley had listened to the discussion in frowning silence. Now he spoke. "Green, yu'll ride the north line for a spell. I figure, after the fright yu've given 'em"--the sarcasm was pronounced--"one man'll be enough."
Frosty started to open his mouth, but closed it again when he caught his friend's warning glance. Later, Sudden contrived to find the foreman alone.
"Oh, Lagley, I didn't say nothin' before the others, but the Colonel said for me an' Frosty to double-team it," he explained.
The foreman's eyes flashed. "O' course, if yo're afeard to go it alone--" he began.
Sudden laughed. "I'm shakin' in my shoes, but when the owner--Keith is that, I s'pose?--gives orders ..."
"They gotta be obeyed, huh, even if the foreman don't agree?"
"I wasn't sayin' that, but the hand the orders is given to has to carry 'em out. The foreman can argue--"
"Me argue with that bull-headed ol' fool?" Lagley savagely interrupted. "I got somethin' better to do. If he wants to run his damned ranch to hellangone ..."
He stalked angrily away, leaving the cowboy in a thoughtful mood.
Chapter VIII
The following morning found the friends on the scene of the previous day's encounter, which, Sudden now learned, was known as Coyote Canyon. The bodies had gone, but not far, as two newly made mounds of stones testified. The ashes of the fire had been covered with sand.
"Someone has tidied up," was Sudden's comment. "How far to Hell City from here?"
" 'Bout eight mile, straight along the canyon," Frosty told him. "Thinkin' o' payin' a visit?"
"Not till I get an invite," was the smiling reply, and the other grinned too, never dreaming that the remark was meant.
Since their task was ostensibly the driving of strays from the stretches of scrub which clothed the foothills, they decided to separate. Two quick shots would be the signal for rejoining with the utmost speed. Frosty having departed eastwards, Sudden turned his horse's head in the opposite direction. For a mile or so, he threaded a way through clumps of thorny brush, forcing the few cattle he unearthed out on to the plain, and then turned abruptly to the north. A steady, devious climb along rocky, cactus-strewn defiles brought him at length to a lofty ledge of level ground, bare save for patches of grass, a sprinkling of gay flowers, and scattered groups of spruce and pine trees. On the far side of this expanse were more hills, with a break in the middle of them masked by forest growth. He was making towards this when the scream of a frightened horse dissipated the silence, and a noment later the animal came into view, galloping furiously hrough the boulders and brush which littered the approach o the pass.
"A woman!" the puncher ejaculated. "What the hell ...?" His question was soon answered; little more than a hundred paces behind, a long, lithe tawny form flashed in the sunlight as it leapt over an obstacle in pursuit of its prey. The dangling reins told that the rider had lost control of her mount; clinging desperately to the saddle-horn, she could only urge it on in the vain hope of outrunning the peril. But the spectator saw another danger of which she evidently knew nothing : crazed by terror, the pony was racing blindly for the edge of the plateau and a sheer drop of a thousand feet on to the jagged rocks below.
A word, and Nigger shot away to the right in an endeavour to intercept the fugitives, the mighty muscles bunching under the silken skin and transforming the animal into a black thunderbolt. A few tense moments at full speed and Sudden, standing in his stirrups, whirled his rope.
"Steady, boy," he warned, as the loop settled over the head of the runaway, and Nigger slowed down sufficiently to check the captive pony without throwing it. For a few more yards the maddened beast fought onwards, but the increasing drag of the rope and the choking effect of the tightening noose prevailed; it pulled up, spent and trembling, almost on the brink of the abyss.
One peril was past, but another still threatened. The mountain lion--doubtless made bold by hunger--was not content to be baulked of its booty and was preparing to spring when Sudden's bullet smashed into its brain. With a word to his horse, the puncher got down, stepped swiftly to the woman and lifted her limp form from the saddle.
"Everythin's right now, ma'am," he assured her. "How yu feelin'?"
"Damned queer," was the surprising answer, as she subsided on a near-by stone. "What possessed my pony to jerk the reins from my hands and bolt like a mad thing?"
"A big cat was needin' a meal--badly, I guess," he told her, and, when she looked round fearfully, added, "He ain't needin' it no longer."
"So that was the shot," she said, and for a space was silent, studying him.
Through narrowed lids, he returned the scrutiny. She was young, about his own age, he estimated, and, in any company, would be adjudged a beautiful woman. Thick braided coils of ebon hair matched the velvety darkness of her slumbrous eyes; a straight nose, full lips, and rounded cheeks which the sun had but faintly tinted, formed a face which compelled admiration. She was tall, for a woman, and her smart riding-costume displayed her fine, well-built figure to perfection. Presently she smiled, showing white, even teeth.
"It just comes to me that I haven't thanked you for saving me from being devoured," she said. "But perhaps the lion would have preferred the pony.""
"I reckon not, if he'd any taste," Sudden said.
She smiled again at the compliment. "Why did you stop us before shooting the beast? Suppose you had missed ..."
"Mebbe it was a risk, but I didn't expect to miss."
His gaze went involuntarily to the edge of the plateau; she rose and stepped towards it, only to come hurrying back, horror and contrition in her eyes.
"Forgive me, my friend," she cried. "You have saved me from a dreadful death, and I find fault. I did not know ..."
"Shucks," he smiled. "Nothin' to that, ma'am; yu may be able to help me one day."
"If that time ever comes, you may rely upon me," she said soberly. "But for now, I should like to know to whom I am indebted."
He gave his name, adding that he was riding for Keith. "The Double K? Aren't you off your range a little?"
"I'm kind o' new, an' don't know the lay-out," he explained. "Took a notion to come up here an' look around."
"Which was as well for me. Do you think my horse can be trusted to carry me home?"
"I reckon." He whistled, and Nigger trotted up, the other animal having perforce to follow. The woman's eyes swept over the black approvingly.
"Your own?" she asked, and when he nodded, "Take care of him, my friend; he's a temptation."
"Any stranger who tried to ride him would have a real interestin' time," the puncher told her.
He went to her pony, which was still wild-eyed and nervous, but when he had slipped the noose from its neck, soothed and spoken to it for a moment or two, it quietened down and allowed its mistress to mount.