"Crooked trails rarely do, Leeson," the marshal told him.
They watched the 88 men disappear in the distance, and then the marshal leaned back in his chair and laughed. Barsay caught the infection, and the rancher regarded them in blank amazement.
"Let me in on the joke, boys," he pleaded. "I ain't had much to be merry about lately, yu know."
"Sorry, Andy, but it was just too funny to see yu squanderin' gratitude on that fella an' rubbin' a sore spot every time yu thanked him," Green explained. "Fact is, if it hadn't been for me, Pete, an' the Injun, yore cows would 'a' been over the Border hours back. Runnin' across Leeson an' that handful o' steers put the idea in my head, an' I sent Black Feather to keep an eye on the 88. He fetched us just in time."
"The damned skunks!" Andy exploded. "Do yu figure Jevons is in it?"
"Can't say," the marshal admitted. "Don't see how Leeson an' his men could get away with such a herd without the foreman knowin'."
"Seems hardly possible," Bordene agreed.
"Raven owns the 88, don't he?" Pete asked meaningly.
"Yeah, but I can't believe he'd have any hand in this," Andy replied. "Lots o' people don't like him, but he's my friend, an', besides, there was a good reason for him wantin' my drive to go through; I was sellin' to pay a debt to him, an' he wanted the money."
"Then he's still shy of it?" Green asked.
"Nope. I borrowed from the bank an' paid him," Bordene said. "He told me he had to have it."
The marshal was silent for a while, and then he said, "So he's got his coin, an' if he was in this steal he'd be the value o' those steers to the good, huh?"
"That's so, of course, but I can't think it of Seth," the young man replied. "He's hard, an' he wants his pound o' flesh, but he ain't crooked."
Green let it go at that. After all, he had no proof that the saloon-keeper was anything but what he seemed. He had plenty to think about on the journey back to Lawless, and Pete did not enjoy the ride.
CHAPTER XII
The marshal's doubts as to Raven's participation in the attempted rustling would have been speedily dissolved had he been present when the news arrived at the 88. Jevons was angry--for his own pocket was affected--but he was also alarmed. Two hours' riding brought him to the Red Ace. Entering by the back door, he sent in a message to the proprietor, who was playing poker. Raven rose instantly.
"Leave me out for a spell; got sornethin' to 'tend to," he excused, and went to his office.
Here he found his foreman waiting, and it needed no second glance to see that he had come in a hurry and on no pleasant errand. The cards had proved unkind to Raven and he was in an ill mood.
"What's the matter now, Jevons?" he growled.
The man told the story just as he had it from Leeson, and the saloon-keeper's usually impassive face grew stormy as he realized the possible consequences of the disaster.
"Yu blunderin' fool," he hissed. "Why didn't vu go yoreself instead o' sendin' that mutton-head?"
"What difference would that 'a' made anyhow?" Jevons retorted. "Lookit, the marshal finds us drivin' four hundred Box B steers; what else was there to tell him? Let's hear what yu'd 'a' done; shoot 'em down, huh?"
Raven sensed that he was going too far; the man was too useful a tool to lose. Moreover, looking at the problem Leeson had to face more coolly, he could not but admit the only possible solution had been found. Tactfully he turned his wrath in another direction.
"Blast that marshal, he's allus hornin' in on what don't concern him," he snarled. "What was he doin' over there?"
"Waitin' for the herd, Leeson reckons," the foreman said. "Some way he got on to it, though I'm blamed if I know how."
Raven was silent, remembering something. "I can tell yu," he said. "That pesky Indian nosed it out; Green said he was usin' him."
"Yu don't often make a mistake in pickin' a man, boss, but yu shore slipped up on that marshal," Jevons said acidly.
"Mistakes can frequently be rectified," his employer told him. "Leeson don't like Green much, does he?"
"Not that yu'd notice," returned the foreman, adding with an ugly smile as he read the other's mind, "I'm bettin' he'd like five hundred bucks a good deal more."
"He can choose between 'em," the saloon-keeper said meaningly. "Tell him I said so. Anybody see yu ride in?" The foreman shook his head. "Slip out quiet an' get back to the ranch," Raven added, and returned to his cards.
The 88 man was wrong in supposing he had not been seen. A pair of black, vigilant eyes, from a little depression fifty yards to the rear of the Red Ace, had watched both his arrival and departure. Black Feather was still working for the marshal.
* * *
Early on the following afternoon a musical call of "Hello, the house," appraised Bordene that he had a visitor. Stepping out on the veranda, he saw Tonia, astride a mettlesome little mustang. She jumped down and trailed the reins when he appeared.
"Why, Tonia, what good angel fetched you?" he cried.
She sat down in the chair he pushed forward, accepted a glass of water from the olla hanging in the porch, and then turned a serious face to her host.
"I haven't seen you since your drive failed, Andy," she said. "It was bad luck."
"Might 'a' been worse--barrin' Tod," the young man replied. "I got nearly two-thirds of 'em back in the end," and went on to relate the story of the strays from the 88.
"So your cows were headed for Mexico," she said thoughtfully. "Andy, what do you think of the marshal?"
"I reckon he's white," Bordene replied.
"I like him too," she said. "I went in once or twice to see that sick Indian he rescued; the man just worships him."
"Hey, Tonia, don't yu go lavishin' too much affection on Green," Bordene cried; and though he spoke in mock alarm, there was again an undertone of concern in his voice.
The girl detected it and was thrilled. Adopting his own manner of speech, she said teasingly, "I shorely gotta be grateful when a fella helps yu, ain't I?" Before he could reply, she was sober again. "Andy, how much do you owe Raven?"
"Who's been tellin' yu--" he began, and paused.
"The same little old bird," she smiled.
"Reg'lar poll-parrot, that bird," Bordene commented. "Well, here's the straight of it, Tonia. I did owe Seth money an' was aimin' to pay when I sold the herd. When the drive was busted I had to borrow from the bank on mortgage."
"I don't like that," she said. "Why didn't you come to us?"
Bordene shook his head and she rose to go. "It'll be all right, Tonia," he assured her. "Potter is straight, an' when I've sold my cows I can square up. I'll see yu a piece on the way."
The girl laughed at him. "Do you think I'm an Eastern miss to want shepherding?" she asked. Then she held out her hand. "Don't trust Raven too much, Andy," she said earnestly.
With a wave and a smile, she wheeled the pony and was off. The young rancher watched her, something more than admiration in his eyes. Then he looked at his dwelling-place and spoke aloud:
"It ain't good enough for her, an' I ain't good enough neither, but, by God, we're agoin' to be, both of us."
Meanwhile, the subject of this pious resolution was loping steadily in the direction of her own ranch. She had crossed the miles of open plain and reached a strip of rougher country which formed one of the boundaries of the Box B when, at the end of a long, narrow ravine, she saw a rider approaching. One glance was enough--there was no mistaking the flaming scarlet tunic, with its wealth of gold braid glittering in the bright sun. Though she had seen him but once, Tonia knew that it was El Diablo, the man whom Andy had treated so cavalierly in Lawless.
With a shiver of apprehension she sought a means of avoiding the meeting, but it was too late; he must already have seen her. So she rode on, endeavouring to appear unconcerned, hoping that by a display of indifference she might get past. But when she was a few yards distant the man pulled his mount across, barring her path, and swept the sombrero from his head.