Shoe-Bar Stratton

by Joseph Bushnell Ames

  CHAPTER XI

  DANGER

  As Buck appeared in the doorway, blinking a little at the lamp-light, thefive card-players stared at him in astonishment.

  "Where the devil have you been?" inquired Kreeger, surprised out of hisaccustomed taciturnity.

  "I thought yuh was asleep," added Peters, casting a bewildered glance atthe shadowy bunk.

  Buck, who had scarcely hoped his little stratagem would succeed so well,refrained with difficulty from showing the pleasure he felt.

  "So I have," he drawled.

  "But I thought yuh was in yore bunk," commented McCabe, his light-blueeyes narrowing slightly.

  "No, I was outside," explained Stratton carelessly. "It was too hot inhere, so I went out and sat down by the creek. I must have dropped offpretty soon, and when I came to it was dark."

  As he spoke he glanced casually at Tex Lynch, and despite himself a littleshiver flickered on his spine. The foreman, who had not spoken, satmotionless on the further side of the table regarding Stratton steadily.His lids drooped slightly and his face was almost expressionless. But inspite of that Buck got a momentary impression of baffled fury and adeadly, murderous hate, the more startling because of its very repression.Coupling it with what he knew or suspected of the man, Stratton felt therewas some excuse for that momentary mental shrinking.

  "He'd as soon put me out of the way as shoot a coyote," he said tohimself, as he walked over to his bunk. "All he wants is a chance to do itwithout getting caught."

  But with ordinary care and caution he did not see just how Tex was goingto get the chance. Buck never went anywhere without his gun, and heflattered himself he was as quick on the draw as the average. Besides, heknew better now than to trust himself alone with Lynch or any of theothers on some outlying part of the range where a fatal accident couldplausibly be laid to marauding greasers, or to some similar agency.

  "I'm not saying any one of 'em couldn't pick me off a dozen times a dayand make an easy get-away across the border," he thought, stretchinghimself out on the husk mattress. "But Lynch don't want to have to make aget-away. There's something right here on the Shoe-Bar that interests hima whole lot too much."

  Presently Bud came in, parried with some success the half-questioningcomments of the men, and went to bed. Buck lay awake a while longer,trying to patch together into some semblance of pattern the isolatedscraps of information he had gained, but without any measure of success.

  There followed four surprising days of calm, during which the Shoe-Bar, toevery outward seeming, might have been the most ordinary and humdrum ofoutfits, with not a hint of anything sinister or mysterious beneath thesurface.

  Each morning the men sallied forth to work, returned for noon dinner, androde off again soon afterward. Lynch was neither grouchy nor over-jovial.He seemed the typical ranch-boss, whose chief thought is to get the workdone, and his berating was entirely impartial. Bud had spent most of histime around the ranch, but once or twice he rode out with the others, andthere was no attempt on their part to keep him and Buck from talkingtogether as privately as they pleased. Only where Miss Thorne wasconcerned was Stratton conscious of the old unobtrusive surveillance. Hesaw her several times during his brief visits to Bemis, who was improvingdaily and fretting to be gone, but always Lynch, McCabe, or some one just"happened" to be along.

  The effect of this unexpected peace and quiet on Stratton, however, wasprecisely opposite from the one he presumed was intended. He had a feelingthat it was a calm before the storm, and became more alert than ever. Theunnatural placidity weighed on him, and as day followed day serenely hisnerves grew edgy.

  After supper on the fourth day Lynch went up to the ranch-house and wascloseted for more than an hour with Miss Thorne. On his return to thebunk-house, Stratton, who had now come to speculate on his every move,studied him covertly but found his manner quite as usual.

  In the morning they started off for the middle pasture, where they wereengaged in repairing a fence which had all but fallen flat. Quite byaccident, and without any inkling of what was to come of his carelessness,Buck left his hammer and pliers beside the corral gate instead of stickingthem into his saddle-pockets. Before they had gone a quarter of a mile hediscovered the omission and pulled up, explaining what had happened.

  "It won't take me five minutes to go back for them," he added, gatheringup his reins.

  "I'll go with yuh," said McCabe promptly. "With a little hustlin', we caneasy catch up with the gang before they get to the pasture."

  "Well, speed up, both of yuh," admonished Lynch. "We want to finish thatjob to-day."

  Slightly amused and wondering whether they thought for an instant he wastoo blind to see through their game, Stratton put spurs to his horse andthe two rode back together, McCabe apparently making a special effort tobe amusing. The tools were found where Buck had left them, and the latterwas on the point of remounting, when Mary Thorne came suddenly around thecorner of the house.

  "Good morning," she greeted them both pleasantly, but with a slightundercurrent of preoccupation in her manner. "I was afraid you'd gone."Her eyes met Stratton's. "Could I speak to you a moment?" she asked.

  "Certainly, ma'am."

  Buck dropped his bridle-reins and moved forward. For an instant McCabe satmotionless; then he swung himself out of the saddle.

  "If it's anythin' I can help about--" he began, awkwardly, yetingratiatingly.

  "Thank you very much, Slim, but it isn't," the girl answered quietly.

  "We ain't got much time," protested McCabe uneasily. "We jest came back toget them tools Buck forgot. Tex is in a hurry to finish up the job."

  "I don't believe five minutes' delay will matter very much," returned MissThorne, with a touch of that unexpected decision Stratton had noticed onceor twice before. "I sha'n't be any longer."

  She moved away from the corral and Buck, walking beside her, wasconscious of a curious tension in the air. For a moment he thought McCabemeant to persist and force his presence on them. But evidently the stockycow-puncher found the situation too difficult for him to cope with, for heremained standing beside his horse, though his glance followed themintently, and throughout the brief interview his eyes searched theirfaces, as if he strove to read from their expression or the movement oftheir lips some inkling of what it was all about.

  "I won't keep you but a moment," the girl began, her color slightlyheightened. "I only thought that perhaps I might persuade you to--tochange your mind, and--and stay. If the work's too hard, we might be ableto--"

  She paused. Buck stared at her in astonishment. "I don't understand," hesaid briefly.

  Her flush deepened. "I meant about your going. I understood you weren'tsatisfied, and wanted to--to leave."

  "Who told you that?"

  "Why--Tex. Isn't it--"

  Buck frowned, and then, conscious of the watching McCabe, his face clearedand he laughed.

  "He must have got me wrong, Miss Ma--er--Thorne," he returned lightly."Perhaps he's heard me grumbling a bit; cow-men do that from force ofhabit sometimes, you know. But I've nothing to complain of about thework, and certainly I had no idea of quitting."

  Her face cleared amazingly. "I'm so glad," she said in a relieved tone. "Isuppose I seem fussy, but now and then the problem of help gets to be aregular nightmare. Once or twice lately I've been afraid I was making aterrible mess of things, and might, after all, have to accept one of theoffers I've had for the ranch. I should hate dreadfully to leave here, butif I can't make it pay--"

  She finished with a shrug. Stratton regarded her thoughtfully. "You've hadseveral offers?" he asked hesitatingly, wondering whether she would thinkthe question an impertinence.

  Apparently she didn't. "Two; really most awfully good ones. Indeed, Texstrongly advised me to sell out and buy another outfit if I still wantedto ranch. But I don't want another one. It's the Shoe-Bar I'm so keenabout because of-- But I really mustn't keep you. Thank you so much forrelieving my mind. When Tex comes in I'll tell him he wa
s mistaken."

  Buck hesitated for an instant. "It might be better not to say anythingabout it," he suggested. "Some foremen don't like the least bit ofinterference, you know. Suppose we just let it go, and if he brings up thesubject to me, I'll tell him he got me wrong."

  "Very well. It doesn't make any difference so long as you're staying.Good-by."

  With a little gesture of farewell, she walked away toward the ranch-house,leaving Stratton to return to where McCabe fidgeted beside the horses.There was no time for deliberate reasoning or planning. Buck only feltsure that Lynch was up to something underhand, and when Slim, with almosttoo great a casualness, inquired what it was all about, he obeyed a strongimpulse and lied.

  "Oh, it's Bemis," he shrugged, as they rode off together. "He's frettingto get away. Lost his nerve, I reckon, and wants to pull out. She wantedto know how long I thought it would be before he could back a horse. Is'pose he might chance it in about a week, but I'm hanged if I can see whyhe's in such a rush. He's sure got it soft enough here."

  While he talked he was busy rolling a cigarette, but this did not preventhim from being aware of Slim's intent, sidelong scrutiny. He could not bequite certain whether or not he succeeded in deceiving the fellow, butfrom the character of McCabe's comments, he rather thought he had.Certainly he hoped so. Slim was sure to tell Lynch about the incident, butif he himself believed it harmless, the foreman was likely to take thesame point of view, and continue to carry out the scheme he had in mind.Whatever this was, Stratton, in his present frame of mind, preferred thatit should be brought to a head rather than continue any longer insuspense.

  Throughout the day he could get no hint of what was going on. Once thethought occurred to him that it might be a variation of the trick Lynchhad tried to play on Bud. By preparing Miss Thorne beforehand for thedeparture of the new hand, he could discharge Stratton and then representto the girl that he had quit of his own accord. But somehow this didn'taltogether fit. It assumed that Buck would take his dismissal quietlywithout attempting a personal appeal to the ranch-owner; also it took noaccount of Bud Jessup. By this time Tex must realize that there had beenmore or less intimate communication between the two, and Bud was not thesort to stand by quietly and see his friend turned out without stirringvehemently in his behalf.

  Considering all this, Buck could not see that there was much to fear inLynch's present manoeuvering; and it was something of a shock to find Budabsent from the supper-table.

  "Gone to Paloma to fetch those wagon-bolts," explained Tex, who had comein about an hour ahead of the others, in answer to Peters' query. "They'dought to of come in by mail yesterday or the day before, an' we need 'embad. He'll get supper in town an' be back before dark."

  Somewhat thoughtful, Buck accompanied the others to the bunk-house, wherehe was cordially invited to join the evening game of draw, but declined onthe plea of having a couple of letters to write. It was a subterfuge, ofcourse; he had nobody to write to. But in his mind had risen a strongpreference for being in a position where he could overlook the wholegroup, rather than be seated in their very midst.

  There had come to him a sudden, vivid conviction that he hadunderestimated the foreman's resources and his own possible danger. As hesat there mechanically scribbling random sentences, it was brought home tohim for the first time how unpleasantly alone he was. Save for a helplessgirl and an even more helpless old woman, there wasn't a soul within adozen miles on whom he could count for help in an emergency. Of coursewhen Bud returned--

  But Bud didn't return. Nine o'clock brought no sign of him. Another hourpassed and still he failed to show up. It began to look very much as ifthe youngster had met with some accident or was being purposely kept outof the way.

  When the men finished their game and began to turn in, Strattonreluctantly followed their example. As long as there was any light he feltperfectly able to take care of himself. It was the darkness hefeared--that inky, suffocating darkness which masks everything like apall. He dreaded, too, the increased chances bed would bring of yieldingfor a single fatal instant to treacherous sleep; but he couldn't well situp all night, so he undressed leisurely with the rest and stretched hislong length between the blankets.

  When the lamp was out, he cautiously flung aside his coverings, drewhimself into a reclining position, and with gun in one hand and somematches close beside the other, began his vigil.

  For a long time--it must have been an hour at least--there was no need tofight off sleep. His mind was far too active. But his thoughts were notaltogether cheering, for he began to see clearly how Lynch might hope toaccomplish the impossible.

  So far there had been reassurance in the feeling that the foreman wouldnot dare proceed to open violence because of the almost certainconsequences to himself. Buck realized now that, under the conditions ofthe moment, those consequences might become almost negligible. Suppose,for instance, that by next morning Stratton had disappeared. Lynch and hisconfederates would tell a plausible story of his having demanded his timethe night before and ridden off early in the morning. It was a story Texhad carefully prepared Miss Thorne to hear, and whether or not, afterBuck's talk with her during the morning, she might be suspicious, thatwould make no difference in the foreman's actions now. He would see that ahorse was gone, and attend to all the other necessary details. He had thebetter part of the night and miles of desert waste in which to dispose ofevery trace of Stratton and his belongings. Bud would be suspicious, butbetween suspicion and proof there is a great gulf fixed. And though Lynchmight not know it, one of his strongest cards was the fact that ifStratton should vanish off the earth, there was not a soul who would evercome around asking awkward questions.

  "But I'm not going to be bumped off just now, thank you," Buck said tohimself with a grim straightening of the lips. "They won't dare fire agun, and they don't know I'm ready for them and waiting."

  Another hour passed, a tortured, harrowing hour in which he fought sleepdesperately with all the limited resources at his command. In spite of hisdetermination to keep his eyes open at any cost, his lids drooped andlifted, drooped and lifted, drooped and were dragged open by sheerwill-power. Each time it was more difficult. Just as the water lapsinexorably at length over the face of an exhausted swimmer, so these wavesof sleep, smothering, clutching, dulled his senses and strove to wrap himin their soft, treacherous embrace.

  There came at last a complete wiping out of consciousness, how long orshort he never knew, from which he was jarred into sudden wakefulness by asound. He had no idea what it was nor whence it came. He merely foundhimself abruptly in full possession of his senses, nerves tingling,moisture dewing his forehead, his whole being concentrated in the one actof--listening!

  For what seemed an eternity he could hear nothing save the heavy breathingof sleeping men. Then it came again, a slow, faint, dragging sound thatceased almost as soon as it began.

  Some one was creeping stealthily toward him across the cabin floor!