Somebody in an adjoining corral grumbled a complaint to another unseen guard. 'Why do we have to draw this damned graveyard shift, Bill?' he wanted to know sulkily. Hal thought the voice was that of Mullins. He could vaguely see the man sitting on the fence.
From another pen a man answered, cheerfully enough. 'Someone has to do it, Ed. It's past three o'clock now. You can sit in the back seat on the way home and snooze.'
'I notice Brick ain't taking a turn.'
'Brick is sore about being dragged to jail. He'll get over it. No use stirring him up. It would only raise a rumpus.'
'And what makes you think we'll be headin' for home in the morning? Cash good as said there was another job to do.'
'Not for me,' Bill answered. 'If it's the one Brick was talking about, I'm out.'
The nearer man struck a match to light a cigarette. Back of the cupped hand shielding the flame Hal recognized the face of Mullins.
Hal edged back, in the shadow of the fence, at first slowly, later with more speed. He rejoined Arnold and told him what he had found out. 'If they were in the same pen we might hold them up,' he concluded. 'But it isn't likely we could take both of them by surprise.'
'No.' Arnold offered a suggestion. 'If we could get close enough to cover one and keep him from yelling to the other, we might make him call the other.'
'Might be done,' Hal assented. 'The second man would hear our voices, but if his pal was scared enough, we could make him say we were some of the gang.'
'And if he didn't scare but started shooting?'
Hal thought that out. 'Mullins isn't very game, Ranny. He'll scare. Point is, can we stop him before he lets out a yell?'
'There's only one way to find out,' Arnold said with a wry grin. 'I don't like this. It's a long shot. But we'll have to take it.'
'Yes. If I can get near enough before he sees me, the surprise might hold him.'
They worked back toward the pen where Mullins had been. The gray light of dawn was beginning to sift into the sky, but it had not yet scattered the darkness below. Yet Hal knew their time was running out. What they had to do must be done quickly. It had been arranged that Arnold would hang back and let Hal attempt the hold-up alone. If it was successful, he would at once pile over the fence and assist with the second guard.
Hal crept forward, close to the ground. He circled the fence of the corral where Mullins sat on the top rail, his back to the approaching man. There was a rifle across the guard's knees. He put it down against a post to light another cigarette. The match had just flared when a voice not four feet away sent a shiver of fear down his spine.
'Make a sound, Mullins, and I'll pump lead into you,' it whispered.
The match went out. Mullins opened his mouth to yell and clapped a hand over it to stop himself.
'Slide down on this side of the fence,' Hal ordered.
Mullins swung his legs over and came to the ground. He was trembling violently. 'Don't shoot,' he begged.
A second man had joined his captor. Mullins's frightened eyes shifted to Arnold and back to Stevens. The stomach muscles of the rustler had gone lax from fright.
The man in the other pen had heard shuffling movements and looked across. Where there had been one man there were now three.
'Who is it, Ed?' he cried. 'Is everything all right?'
Hal was afraid the shaky voice of Mullins would give them away. He decided to do the talking himself. A good mimic, his slow drawl was an excellent imitation of Polk.
'It's Cash, Bill. Something unexpected has broke. Come over and I'll explain.'
Whatever suspicion had been in Bill's mind vanished when he heard the voice of Polk. He came across an empty pen to join them. While he was astride the fence, both hands on the top rail, the sharp summons came to stay there and let his ringers remain exactly where they were. A gun covered him not three feet from his belly. Bill Nuney was a game man, but he knew when not to fight. Before it would be possible for him to draw, this man could pour bullet after bullet into him.
'All right,' Nuney said quietly. 'What's yore game?'
'Come down,' Hal ordered, 'leaving your hands on the rail.'
Bill came down and Arnold disarmed him. Nuney knew Stevens by sight, though Hal did not remember having seen him before. The young rustler looked the cattleman over hardily. 'When I saw a guy standing back of Ed, I might have known it would be you,' he said disgustedly. 'You certainly enjoy buttin' in where you're not wanted.'
Hal liked the young scamp's audacity. Moreover, unless he had misunderstood the talk he had overheard, Bill had served notice to Mullins that murder was not his game and he would have nothing to do with it.
'I'm an annoying character,' Hal admitted. 'But we won't have time to go into that tonight. Ranny, if you'll ride herd on the gentlemen, I'll get busy. Better have them sit down against the fence so that they won't be tempted to try suicide by jumping you.'
Hal got the axe he had brought with him, climbed the fence, and watched his chance. As the cattle milled past him, he selected a steer and swung the butt of the axe against its forehead. The animal went down almost at his feet, dead before it struck the ground. The rest of the stock, excited by the smell of blood, rushed around wildly for a minute.
'Look out they don't trample you,' Arnold called to him.
'They'll quiet in a minute and huddle in the other side of the corral,' Hal said.
Already he had his knife out and was on his knees. He cut a circle through the hide around the brand and ripped off the enclosed skin. This he rammed into his pocket. In another minute he was outside of the pen with the other men.
From where he sat in the dust, Nuney looked up at him. 'Smart as a new whip, aren't you? Maybe too smart. I know some fellows who aren't going to take this well. If I were you I'd hire about six bodyguards.'
'Thanks,' answered Hal. 'And while free advice is going, let me give some, Bill. Better get out of this part of the country and lose yourself while there is still time. The rustling game here is played out. It's the penitentiary for you if you stick around.'
'If I get you right, you're not putting us in the calaboose tonight then,' Nuney said.
'Not tonight. Too busy. You can drift as soon as you like, but we'll keep your weapons.'
Nuney rose and dusted his trousers. 'You'd be surprised, Mr. Stevens,' he said lightly, 'but maybe you have made an honest man of me. I don't like the way this thing is developing. I'm no killer, and sure as God made little apples you are marked for death unless you watch yore step. Your advice is good medicine — and so is mine.'
'You talk too much,' Mullins growled. 'Let's beat it.'
'Have you a car down here?' Arnold asked.
'No,' Nuney replied. 'They were going to pick us up.'
'Wait here till we have gone, and don't hurry to catch up with us,' the Government man ordered.
'Suits me,' Nuney said. 'Our shift isn't over anyhow.' He laughed wryly. 'We're going to have a hell of a story to tell the boys.'
As Hal and Ranny walked back to town, they decided it would be better not to try to reach their car. They could telephone to the hotel later to take care of it. James Hunter lived in a hill suburb north of town. He had two cars and would probably lend them the small one. They must leave as soon as they could, for when Brick Fenwick heard what had occurred at the Gibson yards he would not lose a moment.
CHAPTER 28
Under a Magnifying Glass
JAMES HUNTER led the way into the living-room of his house and turned on his tormentors. He was in pajamas and dressing-gown, and sleep was not yet wholly rubbed out of his eyes. A solid man, square-shouldered and well-set-up, even under the present unfavorable circumstances he retained a certain dignity and poise.