`The Y Z first an' then the Frying Pan,' said Bent. `The Spider ain't no small thinker, I reckon.'
`An' with him out o' the way things'll go a-hummin,' put in Nigger, and Green guessed that the reference was to himself. `Dunn why, but I allus suspected that feller.'
`Same here,' agreed his friend. `Well, he won't trouble none of us soon, though it seems almost a pity to rub out a chap as can lick the Spider in a fist fight, don't it?'
`Shucks, he musta been lucky.'
`Mebbe, but I saw him lay out Rattler an' there warn't no luck about that eepisode, believe me.'
`Yeah, an' Rattler ain't forgot it, so I guess yu don't have to worry,' said Nigger. `We better have a look at the tracks them damn rustlers left.'
He heard them laugh and go for their horses. They knew their prisoner was secure, for not only was he bound but he had no horse to get away on. The captive also realised the futility of thoughts of escape, and with the philosophy of a man who has been in desperate circumstances before, he awaited events. He was, in fact, asleep when the foreman, accompanied by the Y Z outfit, arrived in the afternoon. Rattler's eyes, as they rested on the bound man in the bunk, betrayed venomous satisfaction.
`Just what I allus thought,' he sneered. `Got yu with the goods, too. Well, we ain't no time to waste. Fetch him along an' pick out a good rope.'
But the foreman was taking too much for granted. His party included Snap, Larry, Dirty, and Simple, and when the prisoner saw them grouped together he wished he had not been so tight-mouthed about his plan of campaign. He need not have worried, for the foreman's order had no sooner been uttered than Lunt stepped forward.
`Hold yore horses, Blaynes,' he said quietly. `There ain't goin' to be no hangin' here.'
The foreman whirled on him, his features twisted with rage. Snap returned his glare through slitted eyes, contemptuously, his thumbs hooked in his gun-belt, but all there knew that he was ready, and that his opponent's first move would in all probability be also his last. Blaynes knew it too, and had recourse to bluster.
`How long yu been in charge o' this outfit?' he stormed. `An' where'd yu get yore authority to countermand my orders?' Takin' them questions as they come, I've been in charge ever since I joined the outfit,' sneered Lunt. `An' as for authority, well, what's the matter with these?' and he swept the tips of his fingers over the black butts of his guns.
Blaynes would have given ten years of his life for the power no snatch out his weapon, but he knew he could not do it. Had it been any other man in the outfit he would not have hesitated, but this grim bow-legged little puncher was a chilly proposinion; the squinting, mocking eyes told that he would shoot to kill, and was hungering for the opportunity. Rattler preferred to temporise.
`See here, Snap, what in hell's got into yu?' he asked. `This feller's a rustler, playin' Injun to steal our cattle and caught with the goods. 'Sides which, he's a damn sneakin' spy. What yu takin' his end for?'
Snap grinned. He knew perfectly well that this appeal was made, not to him, but to any other of the men who might take his side.
He replied promptly: `Mebbe he's all yu say, an' mebbe he ain't, but he's agoin' back to the ranch for the Old Man to decide. It ain't yore cattle that's missin' anyways. There's four of us thinks like this, an' if yu others wants argue about it yu can turn yore wolf loose as soon as yo're ready.'
The foreman stood irresolute; the odds were heavily in his favour so far as numbers were concerned, but a fight would mean wiping out some of the outfit, and he knew he would be the first to die; Snap would take care of that. Moreover, he had the same orders as Gorilla, though he had been prepared no chance that to compass his revenge. He glanced at Durran and the scowling face gave him no encouragement. He must give in.
`I don't want no gun-play 'mong ourselves, but I'm not forgettin' it,' he said. `We'll let him live long enough to get to the Y Z, where I reckon the Old Man'll string him up slick enough. Durran, yu an' Nigger take him in.'
Snap climbed his horse. `I'll go along,' he said sardonically. `He's a desperate feller. Yu better get a move on, Rattler, if yu don't want them rustlers to git away with the plunder.'
Blaynes ground his teeth with rage at the position the gunman had forced him into. His apparent duty to his employer would send him on a will-o'-the-wisp chase of cattle he had no wish to recapture, while his one desire was to go back to the ranch to make sure the prisoner did not escape or receive mercy. The very thought of the latter possibility decided the issue.
`Aw right, we'll all go back,' he said. `If Simon wants his cattle again he'll have to get me some fellers as will obey orders.'
The prisoner, his hands still bound, was hoisted upon a horse, and his feet secured beneath the animal's belly. Then with Durran and Bent on either side, and Blaynes immediately behind, they set out for the ranch. Thus Green was given no chance of converse with his friends, but the thought that they had not yet condemned him in spite of his apparent guilt was a cheering one. He smiled reassuringly at Larry, whose face showed most concern, and who appeared to be holding himself in with difficulty. He felt that the boy was loyal and would stand by him to the end.
It was growing dark when they reached the ranch-house, and the early stars were winking in the sky. Blaynes gave a hail as nhe riders pulled their mounts down in front of the verandah, and Simon promptly appeared, followed by Noreen. The cattle-owner had already been told of the raid, but Blaynes had not mentioned that one of the thieves had been taken, and for a moment he did not notice the bound man.
`Yore soon back, Blaynes,' he said. `How's that?'
The foreman told his story, truthfully enough, but saddling the whole blame for not following the stolen herd upon the rebellious members of the outfit. Old Simon's face grew stormy as he listened, and when the tale was done he turned to Lunt, who with the other three was standing apart.
`An' what's yore idea, Lunt, takin' sides with a cow-thief against me?' he asked.
`That ain't so, Simon,' replied the gunman. `If it had been, we'd 'a' turned Green loose, an' we could have.' His voice had an edge to it. `Rattler an' the prisoner ain't never been the best o' friends, an' hangin' him right away looked too much like settlin' a private quarrel in a mean way to me. Any feller is entitled to a hearin' an' by God, Green is goin' no have one.'
`Yu threatenin' me?' snarled Simon.
`Nary a threat, but I'm tellin' yu,' replied the little man. His voice was low, passionless, but there was an earnestness which could not be mistaken. Little as he liked being dictated to the ranch-owner realised that he must give in or blood would be shed. He looked at the prisoner.
`Well, Green, yore friends are doin' all the talkin'; ain't yu got nothin' to say?' he sneered.
`What I have to say is for yore ear only,' Green said. `When yu have heard it yu can go ahead with the hangin'--if yu want to.' Blaynes laughed, and the puncher went on, `Yore dirty dog of a foreman don't want that; he didn't follow yore stolen cows because he was scared I'd get a chance to speak with yu--least-ways, that was one o' the reasons. Now, yu can please yoreself; I'm through.'
`He's a rank liar,' Blaynes cried.
`It's easy to call a tied man that,' Green gibed. `Turn me loose an' yu'll see that coyote hunt his hole.'