CHAPTER XVII
THE PRIMEVAL INSTINCT
On the other side of the house Buck found the mistress of the ranch andher two guests standing in a little group beside one of the dusty,discouraged-looking flower-beds. As he appeared they all glanced towardhim, and a troubled, almost frightened expression flashed across MaryThorne's face.
"Could I speak to you a moment, ma'am?" asked Stratton, doffing hisStetson.
That expression, and her marked hesitation in coming forward, were bothsignificant, and Buck felt a sudden little stab of anger. Was she afraidof him? he wondered; and tried to imagine what beastly lies Lynch musthave told her to bring about such an extraordinary state of mind.
But as she moved slowly toward him, the anger ebbed as swiftly as it hadcome. She looked so slight and frail and girlish, and he observed that herlips were pressed almost as tightly together as the fingers of thosesmall, brown hands hanging straight at her sides. At the edge of the porchshe paused and looked up at him, and though the startled look had gone, hecould see that she was still nervous and apprehensive.
"Should you rather go inside?" she murmured.
Buck flashed a glance at the two Mannings, still within hearing. "If youdon't mind," he answered briefly.
In the living-room she turned and faced him, her back against the table,on which she rested the tips of her outspread fingers. She was soevidently nerving herself for an interview she dreaded that Buck almostregretted having forced it.
"I won't keep you a minute," he began hurriedly. "Tex tells me you have nomore use for me here."
"I'm--sorry," fell almost mechanically from her set lips.
"But he didn't tell me why."
Her eyes, which from the first had scarcely left his face, widened, and apuzzled look came into them.
"But you must know," she returned a trifle stiffly.
"I'm sorry, but I don't," he assured her.
"Oh--duties!" She spoke with a touch of soft impatience. "It's what you'vedone, not what you haven't done that--. But surely this is a waste oftime? It's not particularly--pleasant; and I don't see what will be gainedby going into all the--the details."
Something in her tone stung him. "Still, it doesn't seem quite fair tocondemn even a common cow-puncher unheard," he retorted with a touch ofsarcasm.
She stiffened, and a faint flush crept into her face. Then her chin wentup determinedly.
"You rode to Paloma yesterday morning." It was more of a statement than aquestion.
"Yes."
"In the gully this side of the Rocking-R trail you met a Mexican on asorrel horse?"
Again Buck acquiesced, but inwardly he wondered. So far as he knew therehad been no witness to that meeting.
"He handed you a letter?"
Buck nodded, a sudden feeling of puzzled wariness surging over him. For aninstant the girl hesitated. Then she went on in a soft rush ofindignation:
"And so last night those Mexican thieves, warned that the middle pasturewould be unguarded, broke in there and carried off nearly two hundred headof cattle!"
As he caught her meaning, which he did almost instantly, Buck flushedcrimson and his eyes flashed. For a moment or so he was too furious tospeak; and though most of his rage was directed against the man who, withsuch brazen effrontery, had sought to shift the blame of his own criminalplotting, he could not help feeling resentment that the girl should soreadily believe the worst against him. A vehement denial trembled on hislips, but in time he remembered that he could not utter it without givingaway more than he was willing to at the present moment. With an effort hegot a grip on himself, but though his voice was quiet enough, his eyesstill smoldered and his lips were hard.
"I see," he commented briefly. "You believe it all, of course?"
She had been watching him closely, and now a touch of troubled uncertaintycrept into her face.
"What else can I do?" she countered. "You admit getting the letter fromthat Mexican, and I saw Tex take it out of your bag."
This information brought Buck's lips tightly together and he frowned."Could I see it--the letter, I mean?" he asked.
She hesitated a moment, and then, reaching across the table, took up theshabby account-book he had seen before and drew from it a single sheet ofpaper. The note was short and written in Spanish. It was headed, "_AmigoGreen_," and as Buck swiftly translated the few lines in which the writergave thanks for information purported to have been given about the middlepasture and stated that the raid would take place that night according toarrangement, his lips curled. From his point of view it seemed incrediblethat anyone could be deceived by such a clumsy fraud. But he was forced toadmit that up to a few weeks ago the girl had never set eyes on him, andknew nothing of his antecedents, whereas she trusted Lynch implicitly. Sohe refrained from any comment as he handed back the letter.
"You don't--deny it?" asked the girl, an undertone of disappointment inher voice.
"What's the use?" shrugged Stratton. "You evidently believe Lynch."
She did not answer at once, but stood silent, searching his face with atroubled, wistful scrutiny.
"I don't know quite what to believe," she told him presently. "You--youdon't seem like a person who would--who would-- And yet some one must havegiven information." Her chin suddenly tilted and her lips grew firm. "Ifyou'll tell me straight out that you're nothing but an ordinarycow-puncher, that you have no special object in being here on the ranch,that you're exactly what you seem and nothing more, then I--I'll believeyou."
Her words banished the last part of resentment lingering in Stratton'smind. She was a good sort, after all. He found himself of a suddenregarding her with a feeling that was almost tenderness, and wishing verymuch that he might tell her everything. But that, of course, wasimpossible.
"I can't quite do that," he answered slowly.
The hopeful gleam died out of her eyes, and she made an eloquent,discouraged gesture with both hands.
"You see? What else can I do but let you go? Unless I take every possibleprecaution I'll be ruined by these dreadful thieves."
Buck moved his shoulders slightly. "I understand. I'm not kicking. Well, Iwon't keep you any longer. Thank you very much for telling me what youhave."
Abruptly he turned away and in the doorway came face to face with AlfredManning, who seemed to expect the cow-puncher to step obsequiously asideand let him pass. But Buck was in no humor to step aside for any one, andfor a silent instant their glances clashed. In the end it was Manning,flushed and looking daggers, who gave way, and as Stratton passed the openwindow a moment later he heard the other's voice raised in an angrypitch.
"Perfectly intolerable! I tell you, Mary, you ought to have that fellowarrested."
"I don't mean to do anything of the sort," retorted Miss Thorne.
"But it's your duty. He'll get clean away, and go right on stealing--"
"Please, Alf!" There was a tired break in the girl's voice. "I don't wantto talk any more about it. I've had enough--"
Stratton's lips tightened and he passed on out of hearing. The encounterwith Manning had irritated him, and a glimpse of Lynch he caught throughthe kitchen door fanned into a fresh glow his smoldering anger againstthe foreman. It was not that he minded in the least the result of thefellow's plotting. But the method of it, the effrontery of that cowardly,insolent attempt to blacken and besmirch him with Mary Thorne, made himmore furious each time he thought of it. When he reached the bunk-househis rage was white hot.
He found Jessup the sole occupant. It was still rather early for quitting,and Tex must have set the other men to doing odd jobs around the barns andnear-by places.
"What's happened?" demanded Bud, as Buck appeared. "Tex put me to workoiling harness, but I sneaked off as soon as he was out of sight. I heardSlim say yuh were fired."
Flinging his belongings together as he talked, Stratton briefly retailedthe essentials of the situation.
"I'm going to saddle up and start for town right away," he concluded. "IfI hang a
round here much longer I don't know as I can keep my hands offthat double-faced crook."
He added some more man-sized adjectives, to which Bud listened withcomplete approval.
"Yuh ain't said half enough," he growled, from where he stood to the leftof the closed door. "I wish yuh would stay an' give him one almighty goodbeating up. He thinks there ain't a man on the range can stand up againsthim."
Buck's eyes narrowed. "I'd sure like to try," he said regretfully. "Idon't say I could knock him out, but I'd guarantee to give him somethingto think about. Trouble is, there's nothing gained by starting a mess likethat except letting off steam, and there might be a whole lot--"
He broke off abruptly as the door swung open to admit Lynch and McCabe.The foreman, pausing just inside the room, eyed Stratton's preparationsfor departure with curling lips. As a matter of fact, what he hadoverheard of the interview between Buck and Mary Thorne had given him theimpression that Stratton was an easy mark, whose courage and ability hadbeen greatly overestimated. A more sagacious person would have beencontent to let well enough alone. But Tex had a disposition which impelledhim to rub things in.
"There's yore dough," he said sneeringly, flinging the little handful ofmoney on the table with such force that several coins fell to the floorand rolled into remote corners. "Yuh better put it away safe, 'cause afterthis there ain't nobody around these parts'll hire yuh, I'll tell a man!"
His tone was indescribably taunting, and of a sudden Buck saw red.Dominated by the single-minded impulse of primeval man to use the weaponsnature gave him, he forgot momentarily that he carried a gun. When the twomen entered, he had been bending over, rolling his blankets. Since then,save to raise his head, he had scarcely altered his position, and yet, ashe poised there motionless, fists clenched, muscles tense, eyes narrowedto mere slits, Lynch suddenly realized that he had blundered, and reachedswiftly for his Colt.
But another hand was ahead of his. Standing just behind him, Bud Jessuphad sized up the situation a fraction of a second before Tex, and like aflash he bent forward and snatched the foreman's weapon from its holster.
"Cut that out, Slim!" he shrilled, forestalling a sudden downward jerk ofMcCabe's right hand. "No horning in, now. Give it here."
An instant later he had slammed the door and shot the bolt, and stood withback against it, a Colt in each hand. His freckled face was flushed andhis eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Go to it, Buck!" he yelled jubilantly. "My money's up on yuh, old man.Give him hell!"
Lynch darted out into the middle of the room, thrusting aside the tablewith a single powerful sweep of one arm. There was no hint of reluctancein his manner, nor lack of efficiency in the lowering droop of his bigshoulders or the way his fists fell automatically into position. His facehad hardened into a fierce mask, out of which savage eyes blazedfearlessly.
An instant later, like the spring of a panther, Stratton's lean, lithebody launched forward.
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