CHAPTER XI
A PARTING AND A VISIT
The problem which filled Duncan's mind as he sat on the edge of the slopeoverlooking the river was a three-sided one. To reach a conclusion theemotions of fear, hatred, and jealousy would have to be considered in thelight of their relative importance.
There was, for example, his fear of Dakota, which must be taken intoaccount when he meditated any action prompted by his jealousy, and hisfear of Dakota was a check on his desires, a damper which must control theheat of his emotions. He might hate Dakota, but his fear of him wouldprevent his taking any action which might expose his own life to risk. Onthe other hand, jealousy urged him to accept any risk; it kept telling himover and over that he was a fool to allow Dakota to live. But Duncan knewbetter than to attempt an open clash with Dakota; each time that he hadlooked into Dakota's eyes he had seen there something which told himplainer than words of his own inferiority--that he would have no chance ina man-to-man encounter with him. And his latest experience with Dakota hadproved that.
However, Duncan's character would not permit him to concede defeat, andhis revenge was not a thing to be considered lightly. Therefore, though hesat for a long time on the slope, meditating over his problem, in the endhe smiled. It was not a good smile to see, for his eyes were alight with acrafty, designing gleam, and there was a cruel curve in the lines of hislips. When he finally mounted his pony and rode away from the slope he waswhistling.
During the next few days he did not see much of Sheila, for he avoided theranchhouse as much as possible. He rode out with Langford many times, andthough he covertly questioned the Double R owner concerning the affairwith Doubler he could gain no satisfying information. Langford's reticencefurther aggravated the passions which rioted in his heart, and finally oneafternoon when they rode up to the ranchhouse his curiosity could be heldin check no longer, and he put the blunt question:
"What have you done about Doubler?"
Langford's shifting eyes rested for the fraction of a second on the faceof his manager, and then the old, bland smile came into his own and heanswered smoothly: "Nothing."
"I have been thinking," said Duncan carelessly, but with a sharp sideglance at his employer, "that it wouldn't be a half bad idea to set agunman on Doubler--a man like Dakota, for instance."
The manager saw Langford's lips straighten a little, and his eyes flashedwith a sudden fire. The expression on Langford's face strengthened theconviction already in Duncan's mind concerning the motive of hisemployer's visit to Dakota.
"I don't think I care to have any dealings with Dakota," said Langfordshortly.
Duncan's eyes blazed again. "I reckon if you'd go talk to him," hepersisted, turning his head so that Langford could not see the suppressedrage in his eyes, "you might be able to make a deal with him."
"I don't wish to deal with him. I have decided not to bother Doubler atpresent. And I have no desire to talk with Dakota. Frankly, my dearDuncan, I don't like the man."
"You been in the habit of forming opinions of men you've never talked to?"said Duncan. He could not keep the sneer out of his voice.
Langford noticed it and laughed softly.
"It is my recollection that a certain man of my acquaintance advised me atlength of Dakota's shortcomings," he said significantly. "For me to talkto Dakota after that would be to consider this man's words valueless. Iwill have nothing to do with Dakota. That is," he added, "unless you havealtered your opinion of him."
Duncan did not reply, and he said nothing more to Langford on the subject,but he had discovered that for some reason Langford had chosen to keep theknowledge of his visit to Dakota secret, and Duncan's suspicions that thevisit concerned Doubler became a conviction. Filled with resentment overLangford's attitude toward him, and with his mind definitely fixed uponthe working out of his problem, Duncan decided to visit Doubler.
He chose a day when Langford had ridden away to a distant cow camp, and aswhen he was following the Double R owner, he did not ride the beaten trailbut kept behind the ridges and in the depressions, and when he came withinsight of Doubler's cabin he halted to reconnoiter. A swift survey of thecorral showed him a rangy, piebald pony, which he knew to belong toDakota. As the animal had on a bridle and a saddle he surmised thatDakota's visit would not be of long duration, and having no desire tovisit Doubler in the presence of his rival, he shunted his own horse offthe edge of a sand dune and down into the bed of a dry arroyo. Urging theanimal along this, he presently reached a sand flat on whose edge arose agrove of fir-balsam and cottonwood.
For an hour, deep in the grove, he watched the cabin, and at length he sawDakota come out; saw a smile on his face; heard him laugh. His lipswrithed at the sound, and he listened intently to catch the conversationwhich was carried on between the two men, but the distance was too great.However, he was able to judge from the actions of the two that theirrelations were decidedly friendly, and this discovery immediately raised adoubt in his mind as to the correctness of his deductions.
Yet the doubt did not seriously affect his determination to carry out theplan he had in mind, and when a few moments after coming out of the cabin,Dakota departed down the river trail, Duncan slowly rode out of the groveand approached the cabin.
Doubler stood in the open doorway, looking after Dakota, and when thelatter finally disappeared around a bend in the river the nester turnedand saw Duncan. Instantly he stepped inside the cabin door, reappearingimmediately, holding a rifle. Duncan continued to ride forward, raisingone hand, with the palm toward Doubler, as a sign of the peacefulness ofhis intentions. The latter permitted him to approach, though he held therifle belligerently.
"I want to talk," said Duncan, when he had come near enough to makehimself heard.
"Pull up right where you are, then," commanded Doubler. He was silentwhile Duncan drew his pony to a halt and sat motionless in the saddlelooking at him. Then his voice came with a truculent snap:
"You alone?"
Duncan nodded.
"Where's your new boss?" sarcastically inquired Doubler. "Ain't you scaredhe'll git lost--runnin' around alone without anyone to look after him?"
"I ain't his keeper," returned Duncan shortly.
Doubler laughed unbelievingly. "You was puttin' in a heap of your timebein' his keeper, the last I saw of you," he declared coldly.
"Mebbe I was. We've had a falling out." The venom in Duncan's voice wasnot at all pretended. "He's double crossed me."
"Double crossed you?" There was disbelief and suspicion in Doubter'slaugh. "How's he done that? I reckoned you was too smart for anyone to dothat to you?" The sarcasm in this last brought a dark red into Duncan'sface, but he successfully concealed his resentment and smiled.
"That's all right," he said; "I've got more than that coming from you. I'mtelling you about what he done to me if you ain't got any objections to megetting off my horse."
"Tell me from where you are." In spite of the coldness in the nester'svoice there was interest in his eyes. "Mebbe you an' him have had afallin' out, but I ain't takin' any chances on you bein' my friend--not adurned chance."
"That's right. I don't blame you for not wanting to take a chance, and I'mnot pretending to be your friend. And I sure ain't any friendly toLangford. He's double crossed me, but I ain't telling how he doneit--that's between him and me. But I want to tell you something that willinterest you a whole lot. It's about some guy which is trying to doublecross you. To prove that I ain't thinking to plug you when you ain'tlooking I'm leaving my gun here." He drew out his six-shooter and stuck itbehind his slicker, dismounted, and threw the reins over the pony's head.
In silence Doubler suffered him to approach, though he kept his rifleready in his hand and his eyes still continued to wear a belligerentexpression.
"You and me ain't been what you might call friendly for a long time,"offered Duncan when he had halted a few feet from Doubler. "We've hadwords, but I've never tried to take any mean advantage of you--which Imight have done if I'd wante
d to." He smiled ingratiatingly.
"We ain't goin' to go over what's happened between us," declared Doublercoldly. "We're lettin' that go by. If you'll stick to the palaver that youspoke about mebbe we'll be able to git along for a minute or two.Meanwhile, you'll excuse me if I keep this here gun in shape for you ifyou try any monkey business."
Duncan masked his dislike of Doubler under a deprecatory smile. "That'sright," he agreed. "We'll let what's happened pass without talking aboutit. What's between us now is something different. I've never pretended tobe your friend, and I'm not pretending to be your friend now. But I'vealways been square with you, and I'm square now. Can you say that abouthim?" He jerked his thumb in the direction of the river trail, on whichDakota had vanished some time before.
"Him?" inquired Doubler. "You mean Dakota?" He caught Duncan's nod andsmiled slowly. "I reckon you're some off your range," he said. "Thereain't no comparin' Dakota to you--he's always been my friend."
"A man's got a friend one day and he's an enemy the next," said Duncanmysteriously.
"Meanin'?"
"Meaning that Dakota ain't so much of a friend as you think he is."
Doubler's lips grew straight and hard. "I reckon that ends the palaver,"he said coldly, while he fingered the rifle in his hand significantly. "Ifthat's what you come for you can be hittin' the breeze right back to theDouble R. I'm givin' you----"
"You're traveling too fast," remonstrated Duncan, a hoarseness coming intohis voice. "You'll talk different when you hear what I've got to say. Ireckon you know that Langford ain't any friendly to you?"
"I don't see--" began Doubler.
He was interrupted by Duncan's harsh laugh. "Of course you don't see," hesaid. "I've come over here to make you open your eyes. Langford ain't nofriend of yours, and I reckon that you wouldn't consider any man yourfriend which sets in his cabin a couple of hours talking to Langford,about you?"
"Meanin' that Langford's been to see Dakota?" Doubler's voice was suddenlyharsh and his eyes glinted with suspicion. Certain that he had scored,Duncan turned and smiled into the distance. When he again faced Doublerhis face wore an expression of sympathy.
"When a man's been a friend to you and you find that he's going to doublecross you, it's apt to make you feel pretty mean," he said. "I'm allowingthat. But there's a lot of us get double crossed. I got it and I'm seeingthat they don't ring in any cold deck on you."
"How do you know Dakota's tryin' to do that?" demanded Doubler.
Duncan laughed. "I've kept my eyes open. Also, I've been listening righthard. I wasn't so far away when Langford went to Dakota's shack, and Iheard considerable of what they said about you."
Doubler's interest was now intense; he spoke eagerly: "What did theysay?"
"I reckon you ought to be able to guess what they said," said Duncan witha crafty smile. "I reckon you know that Langford wants your land mightybad, don't you? And you won't sell. Didn't he tell you in front of me thathe was going to make trouble for you? He wants me to make it, though; hewants me to set the boys on you. But I won't do it. Then he shuts up likea clam and don't say anything more to me about it. He saw Dakota sendBlanca over the divide and he's some impressed by his shooting. He figuresthat if Dakota puts one man out of business he'll put another out."
"Meanin' that Langford's hired Dakota to look for me?" Doubler's eyes weregleaming brightly.
"You're some keen, after all," taunted Duncan.
Doubler's jaws snapped. "You're a liar!" he said; "Dakota wouldn't doit!"
"Maybe I'm a liar," said Duncan, his face paling but his voice low andquiet. He was not surprised that Doubler should exhibit emotion over thecharge that his friend was planning to murder him, yet he knew that thesuspicion once established in Doubler's mind would soon grow to thestature of a conviction.
"Maybe I'm a liar," repeated Duncan. "But if you'll use your brain alittle you'll see that things look bad for you. Dakota's been here. Did hetell you about Langford coming to see him? I reckon not," he added as hecaught Doubler's blank stare; "he'd likely not tell you about it. But Ireckon that if he was your friend he'd tell you. I reckon you told himabout Langford wanting your land--about him telling you he'd make thingshot for you?"
Doubler nodded silently, and Duncan continued. "Well," he said, with ashort laugh, "I've told you, and it's up to you. They were talking aboutyou, and if Dakota's your friend, as you're claiming him to be, he'd havetold you what they was talking about--if it wasn't what I say it was--himknowing how Langford feels toward you. And they didn't only talk. Langfordwrote something on a paper and gave it to Dakota. I don't know what hewrote, but it seemed to tickle Dakota a heap. Leastways, he done a heap oflaffing over it. Likely Langford's promised him a heap of dust to do thejob. Mebbe he's your friend, but if I was you I wouldn't give him nochance to say I drawed first."
Doubler placed his rifle down and passed a hand slowly and hesitatinglyover his forehead. "I don't like to think that of Dakota," he said, faithand suspicion battling for supremacy. "Dakota just left here; he acted aheap friendly--as usual--mebbe more so."
"I reckon that when a man goes gunning for another man he don't advertisea whole lot," observed Duncan insinuatingly.
"No," agreed Doubler, staring blankly into the distance where he had lastseen his supposed friend, "a man don't generally do a heap of advertisin'when he's out lookin' for a man." He sat for a time staring straightahead, and then he suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with a savagefierceness. "How do I know you ain't lyin' to me?" he demanded, glaring atDuncan, his hands clenched in an effort to control himself.
Duncan's eyes did not waver. "I reckon you _don't_ know whether I'mlying," he returned, showing his teeth in a slight smile. "But I reckonyou're twenty-one and ought to have your eye-teeth cut. Anyway, you oughtto know that a man like Langford, who's wanting your land, don't go totalk with a man like Dakota, who's some on the shoot, for nothing. How doyou know that Langford and Dakota ain't friends? How do you know but thatthey've been friends back East? Do you know where Dakota came from? Mebbehe's from the East, too. I'm telling you one thing," added Duncan, and nowhis voice was filled with passion, "Dakota and Sheila Langford are prettythick. She makes believe that she don't like him, but he saved her from aquicksand, and she's been running with him considerable. Takes his part,too; does it, but she makes you believe that she don't like him. I reckonshe's pretty foxy."
Doubler's memory went back to a conversation he had had with Sheila inwhich Dakota had been the subject under discussion. He remembered that shehad shown a decided coldness, suggesting by her manner that she and Dakotawere not on the best of terms. Could it be that she had merely pretendedthis coldness? Could it be that she was concerned in the plot against him,that she and her father and Dakota were combined against him for thecommon purpose of taking his life?
He was convinced that any such suspicion against Sheila must be unjust,for he had studied her face many times and was certain that there was nota line of deceit in it. And yet, was it not odd that, when he had told herof the trouble between him and her father, she had not immediately takenher parent's side? To be sure, she had told him that Langford was merelyher stepfather, but could not that statement also have been a misleadingone? And even if Langford were only her stepfather, would she not havefelt it her duty to align herself with him?
"I reckon you know a heap about Dakota, don't you?" came Duncan's voice,breaking into Doubler's reflections. "You know, for instance, that Dakotacame here from Dakota--or anyway, he says he came here from there. We'llsay you know that. But what do you know about Langford? Didn't he tell youthat he was going to 'get' you?"
Duncan turned his back to Doubler and walked to his pony. He drew out hissix-shooter, stuck it into its holster, and placed one foot in a stirrup,preparatory to mounting. Then he turned and spoke gravely to Doubler.
"I've done all I could," he said. "You know how you stand and the rest ofit is up to you. You can go on, letting Dakota and Sheila pretend to befriendly to you, and
some day you'll get wise awful sudden--when it's toolate. Or, you can wise up now and fix Dakota before he gets a chance atyou. I reckon that's all. You can't say that I didn't put you wise to thegame."
He swung into the saddle and urged the pony toward the crossing. Lookingback from a crest of a rise on the other side of the river, he saw Doublerstill standing in the doorway, his head bowed in his hands. Duncan smiled,his lips in cold, crafty curves, for he had planted the seed of suspicionand was satisfied that it would presently flourish and grow until it wouldfinally accomplish the destruction of his rival, Dakota.
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