by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER NINE
THE EVIL EYE OF THE SAWTOOTH
Oppression is a growth that flourishes best in the soil of opportunity.It seldom springs into full power at once. The Sawtooth Cattle Companyhad begun much as its neighbors had begun: with a tract of land, cattle,and the ambition for prospering. Senator Warfield had then been plainBill Warfield, manager of the outfit, who rode with his men and saw howhis herds increased,--saw too how they might increase faster undercertain conditions. At the outset he was not, perhaps, more unscrupulousthan some of his neighbors. True, if a homesteader left his claim for alonger time than the law allowed him, Bill Warfield would choose one ofhis own men to file a contest on that claim. The man's wages would bepaid. Witnesses were never lacking to swear to the improvements he hadmade, and after the patent had been granted the homesteader (for thecontestant always won, in that country) the Sawtooth, would pay him forthe land. Frequently a Sawtooth man would file upon land before anyother man had claimed it. Sometimes a Sawtooth man would purchase arelinquishment from some poor devil of a claim-holder who seemed alwaysto have bad luck, and so became discouraged and ready to sell. Anintelligent man like Bill Warfield could acquire much land in thismanner, give him time enough.
In much the same manner his herds increased. He bought out smallranchers who were crowded to the selling point in one way or another.They would find themselves fenced off from water, the Sawtooth havingacquired the water rights to creek or spring. Or they would be hemmed inwith fenced fields and would find it next to impossible to make use ofthe law which gave them the right to "condemn" a road through. Theywould not be openly assailed,--Bill Warfield was an intelligent man. Adozen brands were recorded in the name of the Sawtooth Cattle Company,and if a small rancher found his calf crop shorter than it should be, hemight think as he pleased, but he would have no tangible proof that hiscalves wore a Sawtooth brand.
Inevitably it became necessary now and then to stop a mouth that wasready to speak unwelcome truths. But if a Sawtooth man were known tohave committed violence, the Sawtooth itself was the first to put thesheriff on his trail. If the man successfully dodged the sheriff andmade his way to parts unknown, the Sawtooth could shrug its shouldersand wash its hands of him.
Then whispers were heard that the Sawtooth had on its pay roll men whowere paid to kill and to leave no trace. So many heedless ones crossedthe Sawtooth's path to riches! Fred Thurman had been one; a "bull-headedcuss" who had the temerity to fight back when the Sawtooth calmly laidclaim to the first water rights to Granite Creek, having bought it, theysaid, with the placer claim of an old miner who had prospected along theheadwaters of Granite at the base of Bear Top.
By that time the Sawtooth had grown to a power no poor man could hope todefeat. Bill Warfield was Senator Warfield, and Senator Warfield was apower in the political world that immediately surrounded him. Since hisneighboring ranchmen had not been able to prevent his steady climbing tothe position he now held, they had small hope of pulling him down. Britwas right. They did well to hang on and continue living in thatcountry.
An open killing, one that would attract the attention of the outsideworld, might be avenged. The man who committed the crime might bepunished,--if public opinion were sufficiently massed against him. Inthat case Senator Warfield would cry loudest for justice. But it wouldtake a stronger man than the country held to raise the question of FredThurman's death and take even the first steps toward proving it amurder.
"It ain't that they can _do_ anything, Mr. Warfield," the man fromWhisper said guardedly, urging his horse close to the machine that stoodin the trail from Echo. It was broad day--a sun-scorched day toboot--and Senator Warfield perspired behind the wheel of his car. "It'sthe talk they may get started."
"What have they said? The girl was at the ranch for several days. Shedidn't talk there, or Hawkins would have told me."
"She was sick. I saw her the other day at the Quirt, and she more'n halfrecognized me. Hell! How'd _I_ know she was in there among them rocks?Everybody that was apt to be riding through was accounted for, and Iknew there wasn't any one coming horseback or with a rig. My hearing'spretty good."
Warfield moved the spark lever up and down on the wheel while hethought. "Well," he said carefully at last, "if you're falling down inyour work, what are you whining about it to me for? What do you want?"
Al moistened his lips with his tongue. "I want to know how far I can go.It's been hands off the Quirt, up to now. And the Quirt's beginning tothink it can get away with most anything. They've throwed a fence acrossthe pass through from Sugar Spring to Whisper. That sends us away aroundby Three Creek. You can't trail stock across Granite Ridge, nor themlava ledges. If it's going to be hands off, I want to know it. There'sother places I'd rather live in, if the Quirt's going to raise talkabout Fred Thurman."
Senator Warfield pulled at his collar and tie as if they choked him."The Quirt has made no trouble," he said. "Of course, if they beginthrowing fences across our stock trails and peddling gossip, that isanother story. I expect you to protect our interests, of course. And Ihave never made a practice of dictating to you. In this case"--he sent asharp glance at Al--"it seems to me your interests are involved morethan ours. As to Fred Thurman, I don't know anything about it. I was nothere when he died, and I have never seen this girl of Brit's who seemsto worry you. She doesn't interest me, one way or the other."
"She seems to interest Bob a whole lot," Al said maliciously. "He rodeover to see her yesterday. She wasn't home, though."
Senator Warfield seemed unmoved by this bit of news, wherefore Alreturned to the main issue.
"Do I get a free hand, or don't I?" he insisted. "They can't be letpeddle talk--not if I stay around here."
Senator Warfield considered the matter.
"The girl's got the only line on me," Al went on. "The inquest was asclean as I ever saw. Everything all straight--and then, here she comesup----"
"If you know how to stop a woman's mouth, Al, you can make a million amonth telling other men." Senator Warfield smiled at him. Then he leanedacross the front seat and added impressively, "Bear one thing in mind,Al. The Sawtooth cannot permit itself to become involved in any scandal,nor in any killing cases. We're just at the most crucial point with ourreclamation project, over here on the flat. The legislature is willingto make an appropriation for the building of the canal, and in two orthree months at the latest we should begin selling agricultural tractsto the public. The State will also throw open the land it had withdrawnfrom settlement, pending the floating of this canal project. More thanever the integrity of the Sawtooth Cattle Company must be preserved,since it has come out openly as a backer of the irrigation company.Nothing--_nothing_ must be permitted to stand in the way."
He removed his thin driving cap and wiped his perspiring forehead. "I'msorry this all happened--as it has turned out," he said, with realregret in his tone. "But since it did happen, I must rely upon youto--to--er----"
"I guess I understand," Al grinned sardonically. "I just wanted you toknow how things is building up. The Quirt's kinda overreached itself. Ididn't want you comin' back on me for trying to keep their feet outa thetrough. I want you to know things is pretty damn ticklish right now, andit's going to take careful steppin'."
"Well, don't let your foot slip, Al," Senator Warfield warned him. "TheSawtooth would hate to lose you; you're a good man."
"Oh, I get yuh," Al retorted. "My foot ain't going to slip---- If itdid, the Sawtooth would be the first to pile onto my back!" The lastsentence was not meant for the senator's ears. Al had backed his horse,and Senator Warfield was stepping on the starter. But it would not havemattered greatly if he had heard, for this was a point quite thoroughlyunderstood by them both.
The Warfield car went on, lurching over the inequalities of the narrowroad. Al shook his horse into a shambling trot, picking his waycarelessly through the scattered sage.
His horse traveled easily, now and then lifting a foot high to avoidrock or exposed root, or swerving
sharply around obstacles too high tostep over. Al very seldom traveled along the beaten trails, though therewas nothing to deter him now save an inherent tendency towardsecretiveness of his motives, destinations and whereabouts. If thecountry was open, you would see Al Woodruff riding at some distance fromthe trail--or you would not see him at all, if there were gullies inwhich he could conceal himself. He was always "line-riding," or huntingstray stock--horses, usually--or striking across to some line-camp ofthe Sawtooth, on business which he was perfectly willing to state.
But you will long ago have guessed that he was the evil eye of theSawtooth Company. He took no orders save such general ones as SenatorWarfield had just given him. He gave none. Whatever he did he did alone,and he took no man into his confidence. It is more than probable thatSenator Warfield would never have known to a certainty that Al wasresponsible for Thurman's death, if Al had not been worried over theQuirt's possible knowledge of the crime and anxious to know just how farhis power might go.
Ostensibly he was in charge of the camp at Whisper, a place far enoughoff the beaten trails to free him from chance visitors. The Sawtoothkept many such camps occupied by men whose duty it was to look after theSawtooth cattle that grazed near; to see that stock did not "bog down"in the tricky sand of the adjacent water holes and die before help came,and to fend off any encroachments of the smaller cattle owners,--thoughthese were growing fewer year by year, thanks to the weeding-out policyof the Sawtooth and the cunning activities of such as Al Woodruff.
It may sound strange to say that the Sawtooth country had not had a real"killing" for years, though accidental deaths had been rather frequent.One man, for instance, had fallen over a ledge and broken his neck,presumably while drunk. Another had bought a few sticks of dynamite toopen up a spring on his ranch, and at the inquest which followed thejury had returned a verdict of "death caused by being blown up by theaccidental discharge of dynamite." A sheepman was struck by lightning,according to the coroner, and his widow had been glad to sell ranch andsheep very cheaply to the Sawtooth and return to her relatives inMontana. The Sawtooth had shipped the sheep within a month and turnedthe ranch into another line-camp.
You will see that Senator Warfield had every reason to be sincere whenhe called Al Woodruff a good man; good for the Sawtooth interests, thatmeans. You will also see that Brit Hunter had reasons for believing thatthe business of ranching in the Sawtooth country might be classed asextra hazardous, and for saying that it took nerve just to hang on.
That is why Al rode oblivious to his surroundings, meditating no doubtupon the best means of preserving the "integrity" of the Sawtooth and atthe same time soothing effectively the ticklishness of the situation ofwhich he had complained. It was his business to find the best means. Itwas for just such work that the Sawtooth paid him--secretly, to besure--better wages than the foreman, Hawkins, received. Al wasconscientious and did his best to earn his wages; not because heparticularly loved killing and spying as a sport, but because theSawtooth had bought his loyalty for a price, and so long as he felt thathe was getting a square deal from them, he would turn his hand againstany man that stood in their way. He was a Sawtooth man, and he foughtthe enemies of the Sawtooth as matter-of-factly as a soldier will fightfor his country. To his unimaginative mind there was sufficientjustification in that attitude. As for the ease with which he planned tokill and cover his killing under the semblance of accident, he wouldhave said, if you could make him speak of it, that he was not squeamish.They'd all have to die some day, anyway.
