Arnold made no comment on this explanation. He said bluntly, 'We want two or three of the hides carrying the Mullins brand.'
Gibson was very sorry, but all of them had been sent to the tannery.
'Give us an order on the tannery for them,' Arnold continued. 'And don't telephone to the manager before we get there.'
The meat packer was hurt that Mr. Arnold could think him capable of doing such a thing. Of course he would cooperate with them in every way possible.
The hides obtained at the tannery showed plainly that the original brands had been altered at a later period. This had been done skillfully enough to pass a casual inspection, but under the microscope the additions stood out clearly.
Arnold felt that he had evidence enough to warrant an arrest. Both Nuney and Vallejo flatly declined to support the theft charges against their former associates, but Hal was of opinion that if they could capture Mullins and put pressure on him he would turn state's witness.
With very little hope of success, Sheriff Elbert led a posse into the hills to arrest half a dozen of the rustlers known to be Black's men. He knew that, before he could get within miles of the men wanted, outposts would carry back to them word to hide themselves in the Rabbit Ear Gorge country. What he anticipated came to pass. When he rode up to the Double B ranch, he found the owner of it sitting on the porch poring over the Fair Play Banner.
Tick Black inspected the posse with a sly wintry smile. There were six of them. He recognized Tom Wall, Arnold, and Casey of the Seven Up and Down.
'Nice of my old friends to come up on my birthday to wish me happy returns,' he said, not disguising the sarcasm. 'But how come my dear pal Stevens isn't with you? Don't tell me he is minding his own business for a change.'
'I'm looking for some of your neighbors, Tick,' the sheriff told him. 'Fenwick, Polk, Frawley, Mullins, and two men called Chad and Doc, whose last names I don't know.'
'Haven't seen hair or hide of any of them for a week. Want 'em to serve on a jury, Elbert?'
'Not exactly. I saw a couple of lads at the corral as we arrived. Mind giving them a call, Tick?'
'Anything to oblige,' snickered Black. He raised his voice to a shout. 'Sam — Rusty. Where you boys at?'
A youngster came to the door of the stable and answered. 'What you want, Tick?'
'We got visitors who would like to see you.'
Two eighteen-year-old boys in levis and big Stetsons crossed the yard to the house.
'This is Sheriff Elbert, boys,' explained their employer. 'He's taking a pasear through the hills with these other gentlemen. Maybe they are working on the census. If the sheriff wants to know whether yore pappies chewed tobacco you tell him.'
The sheriff asked them their names. Sam Hitchcock and Rusty Peters, they told him.
Elbert turned to his posse. 'Any of you know these boys?'
One of the deputies said he had seen them at Fair Play hanging around a pool hall, but he had never met the lads.
When the sheriff quizzed the Double B men about Fenwick, Polk, and the others wanted, no information could be got from them. They could not remember exactly when they had last seen any of those for whom the officer had warrants.
'Why come looking for them here?' Black asked. 'They don't live on this ranch.'
'I thought you might know where they are, since you are their sponsor.'
'What d'you mean by that?' the ranchman snapped.
The sheriff looked steadily at him. 'I mean that you buy cattle from some of them and sell the stuff to a packing house, thereby vouching for them as the bona-fide owners.'
'I did not do any vouching,' Black disagreed. 'I showed Gibson a bill of sale. You can't touch me, if that's what you are getting at. Maybe the boys made a mistake or two in branding. You can't always be sure what cow a calf belongs to, and errors are made.'
'These were not legitimate errors. I have proof that brands were changed.'
'But not that I changed them. Gibson can bring a civil action for damages in case he isn't satisfied.'
'That won't go, Black. The brands were changed outside Casa Rita after you had bought the cattle.' The sheriff took from his pocket a paper. 'I have a warrant for your arrest.'
'I'll be out of jail inside of two hours after you put me in,' Black said, and tossed the paper back contemptuously so that it fell on the porch.
'I don't doubt it,' Elbert answered. 'But after your trial you'll be behind bars quite a while.'
'What evidence you got, outside of this mistake in the brand, which may be some trumped-up evidence fixed by Stevens?'
The sheriff did not intend to tip the hand of the prosecution. 'You'll find out when the time comes. If you want to pack a suitcase, one of the boys will go in and help you.'
Black clumped into the house, Arnold at his heels. He reappeared shortly carrying a shabby valise of imitation leather.
'Let's go,' he snapped. 'I won't need this suitcase at yore jail, but I'll probably stay in town a day or two while I'm starting a suit for false imprisonment.'
Arnold and Wall took the prisoner to the M K ranch, from which they could travel by car to Fair Play. A man was leading a horse across the yard to the blacksmith shop.
'Where is Hal, Mike?' asked Arnold.
'He left on horseback just after you fellows did,' Mike replied. 'Didn't say where he was going, but he carried some grub and a coffee pot with him like he was going camping for a day or two. Told me to tell you not to begin worrying till you saw him again, that he was aiming to commune with nature.'
'That's queer,' Wall said.
'I don't like it,' Arnold replied. 'This is no time for him to be going off alone. He's probably got some crazy idea in his nut.'
'I thought it was funny when he slid out of being on the posse,' Wall remarked. 'Even though he told us we were going on a wild goose chase and wouldn't bag any more than Black was willing for us to get.'
'Hal can look after himself pretty well,' Mike said, by way of consolation. 'I reckon he knows what he is doing.'
None the less, Arnold was troubled all the way to Fair Play and back again. Hal was too fond of playing hunches. Some day one of them would not work out.
CHAPTER 32
Hal Plays a Lone Hand
WHEN HAL reached the first mesa that looked down on the valley, he rested the buckskin for a minute and his gaze swept the country he was leaving. Distance softened the harshness of the desert, lent it a golden harmony that satisfied his sense of beauty. White billowy clouds were drifting across the sky, and the shadows from them moved very slowly along the undulating floor. He could see here and there a bunch of cattle 'standing on their heads,' as he had heard his father say of stock when grazing.
On this he turned his back and pushed to the far side of the mesa, his horse sidestepping the catclaw and the prickly pear. The ground rose gradually, and when he entered a rocky gulch with yucca sprinkling the steep sides, the ascent grew less easy. It brought him to a grassy park with a growth of live oaks rising to the yonder rim in the midst of which a low log house nestled. He circled around the lip of the park, out of sight of the house, and from the rear dropped down to it through the grove.
It was not a bad stand, he thought. The grass was good. A small stream ran into the meadow, and when he reached the house he saw pans full of sweet milk resting on the sandy bottom of the shallow brook. At the water's edge a woman stood washing clothes. When she turned, startled at the sound of the cowpony's hoof striking a stone, he saw that she was long and lean as a starved Yaqui, with the dry parched face Arizona gives to women who do not take care of their complexions.