by Max Brand
CHAPTER XXII
DREW SMILES
When the cattleman felt the rope snap back to his hand he could notrealize at first just what had happened. The crack of the gun had beenno louder than the snapping of a twig in that storming of the river, andthe only explanation he could find was that the rope had struck somesuperlatively sharp edge of the rock and been sawed in two. Butexamining the cut end he found it severed as cleanly as if a knife hadslashed across it, and then it was he knew and threw the lariat to theground.
When he saw Bard scramble up the opposite bank he knew that his game waslost and all the tables reversed, for the Easterner was a full two hourscloser to the home of Drew than he was, with the necessary detour up tothe ford. The Easterner might be delayed by the unknown country for atime, but not very long. He was sure to meet someone who would point theway. It was then that Nash drew his gun and shot down the piebaldmustang.
The next instant he was racing straight up the river toward the ford.The roan was not spared this day, for there were many chances that Bardmight secure a fresh mount to speed him on the way to the Drew ranch,and now it was all important that the big grey man be warned; for therewas a danger in that meeting, as Nash was beginning to feel.
By noon he reached the house and went straight to the owner, a desperatefigure, spattered with mud to the eyes, a three days' growth of whiskersblackening his face, and that face gaunt with the long, hard riding. Hefound the imperturbable Drew deep in a book in his office. While he wasdrawing breath, the rancher examined him with a faint smile.
"I thought this would be the end of it," he announced.
"The devil and all hell plays on the side of Bard," answered theforeman. "I had him safe--almost tied hand and foot. He got away."
"Got away?"
"Shot the rope in two."
The other placed a book-mark, closed the volume, and looked up with theutmost serenity.
"Try again," he said quietly. "Take half a dozen men with you, surprisehim in the night----"
"Surprise a wolf," growled Nash. "It's just the same."
The shaggy eyebrows stirred.
"How far is he away?"
"Two or three miles--maybe half a dozen--I don't know. He'll be herebefore night."
The big man changed colour and gripped the edge of the desk. Nash hadnever dreamed that it would be possible to so stir him.
"Coming here?"
"Yes."
"Nash--you infernal fool! Did you let him know where you were takinghim?"
"No. He was already on the way here."
Once more Drew winced. He rose now and strode across the room and back;from the wall the heavy echo of his footfall came sharply back. And hepaused in front of Nash, looming above his foreman like some primitivemonster, or as the Grecian heroes loomed above the rank and file at thesiege of Troy. He was like a relic of some earlier period when biggermen were needed for a greater physical labour.
"What does he want?"
"I don't know. Says he wants to ask for the right of hunting on yourold place on the other side of the range. Which I'd tell a man it's jesta lie. He knows he can hunt there if he wants to."
"Does he know me?"
"Just your name."
"Did he ask many questions about me?"
"Wanted to know what you looked like."
"And you told him?"
"A lot of things. Said you were big and grey. And I told him that storyabout you and John Bard."
Drew slumped into a chair and ground the knuckles of his right handacross his forehead. The white marks remained as he looked up again.
"What was that?"
"Why, how you happened to marry Joan Piotto and how Bard left thecountry."
"That was all?"
"Is there any more, sir?"
The other stared into the distance, overlooking the question.
"Tell me what you've found out about him."
"I been after him these three days. Logan tipped him wrong, and hestarted the south trail for Eldara. I got on his trail three times andcouldn't catch him till we hit Eldara."
"I thought your roan was the most durable horse on the range, Steve.You've often told me so."
"He is."
"But you couldn't catch--Bard?"
"He was on a faster horse than mine--for a while."
"Well? Isn't he now?'
"I killed the horse."
"You showed your hand, then? He knows you were sent after him?"
"No, he thinks it's because of a woman."
"Is he tangling himself up with some girl?" frowned the rancher.
"He's cutting in on me with Sally Fortune--damn his heart!"
And Nash paled visibly, even through whiskers and mud. The other almostsmiled.
"So soon, Nash?"
"With hosses and women, he don't lose no time."
"What's he done?"
"The first trace I caught of him was at a shack of an old ranchhousewhere he'd traded his lame hoss in. They gave him the wildest mustangthey had--a hoss that was saddle-shy and that hadn't never been ridden.He busted that hoss in--a little piebald mustang, tougher 'n iron--andthat was why I didn't catch him till we hit Eldara."
The smile was growing more palpable on the face of Drew, and he noddedfor the story to continue.
"Then I come to a house which was all busted up because Bard had comealong and flirted with the girl, and she's got too proud for the fellershe was engaged to--begun thinkin' of millionaires right away, I s'pose.
"Next I tracked him to Flanders's saloon, where he'd showed up SandyFerguson the day before and licked him bad. I seen Ferguson. It was suresome lickin'."
"Ferguson? The gun-fighter? The two-gun man?"
"Him."
"Ah-h-h!" drawled the big man.
The colour was back in his face. He seemed to be enjoying the recountalhugely.
"Then I hit Eldara and found all the lights out."
"Because of Bard?"
"H-m! He'd had a run-in with Butch Conklin, and Butch threatened to comeback with all his gang and wipe Eldara off the map. He stuck around andwhile he was waitin' for Butch and his gang, he started flirtin' withSally--Fortune."
The name seemed to stick in his throat and he had to bring it out with agrimace. "So now you want his blood, Nash?"
"I'll have it," said the cowpuncher quietly, "I've got gambler's luck.In the end I'm sure to win."
"You're not going to win here, Nash."
"No?" queried the younger man, with a dangerous intonation.
"No. I know the blood behind that chap. You won't win here. Blood willout."
He smote his great fist on the desk-top and his laugh was a thunderwhich reverberated through the room.
"Blood will out? The blood of John Bard?" asked Nash.
Drew started.
"Who said John Bard?"
He grew grey again, the flush dying swiftly. He started to his feet andrepeated in a great voice, sweeping the room with a wild glance: "Whosaid John Bard?"
"I thought maybe this was his son," answered Nash.
"You're a fool! Does he look like John Bard? No, there's only one personin the world he looks like."
He strode again up and down the room, repeating in a deep monotone:"John Bard!"
Coming to a sharp halt he said: "I don't want the rest of your story.The point is that the boy will be here within--an hour--two hours. We'vegot work to do before that time."
"Listen to me," answered the foreman, "don't let him get inside thishouse. I'd rather take part of hell into a house of mine. Besides, if hesees me--"
"He's coming here, but he's not going to see either of us--my mind ismade up--neither of us until I have him helpless."
