“None a-tall,” said Campbell cheerfully. “But I’ve got an idea in the back of my head that I’ll have to trail you yet.” He moved away without waiting for a reply.
“The biggest thing that man can do is wear a star,” was Bannister’s comment as he turned to Howard. “He’s a confounded fool. Let’s go somewhere else for a drink.” He led Howard out, as he didn’t want Link to see them.
When they had had their refreshment, Bannister suggested that they pay a visit to Cromer, and they headed for the office of the company.
“Out of town,” was the information vouchsafed by a suave clerk. “Back on the eight o’clock stage. Anything I can do?”
“Sure.” Bannister nodded. “Keep your eye on the clock and quit on time.”
They went into a café for supper. So Cromer is out of town, Bannister thought. Prairie City, undoubtedly. Went down in the morning before Link could arrive, and now Link is waiting to see him. But Link came up from the Dome camp, not from the ranch house. Was he sent by Hayes? If so, just what connection could there be between Hayes and Cromer? Just a wild conjecture, of course but . . . At this point Bannister saw through the window that the hotel was directly across the street, affording a view of the company office.
“Reckon we’ll hang around a while,” he told Howard, “so we might as well slip across and get a room.”
“It’s a go with me,” Howard agreed.
There were no front rooms, the hotel clerk told them. “Fair enough,” said Bannister heartily, and reached out a hand. The clerk took it with a surprised smile. The smile faded as he felt a hard object in his palm. He stole a look, saw a glint of gold, and the smile faded.
“Maybe . . .”
“I thought so,” said Bannister cheerfully, reaching for the register. Later, up in their room, Bannister confided the object of his visit to town, and swore Howard to secrecy. The boy was excited with the thrill of adventure as Bannister told him his plan.
Then they took up their vigil. The twilight had descended when the stage arrived. They saw Cromer hasten to his offices. One by one the lights went out across the street as the clerks left. Finally only a faint glow was in the window, coming from a door at the rear of the front room leading to a private office. They descended to the little lobby, where Bannister sat down at the front window. Howard walked out casually and directed his footsteps in the direction of the livery.
Minutes passed, but still the glow came from the office across the street. A diminutive figure slipped through the shadows and was outlined for a moment against the faint light. Bannister rose leisurely, but once outside the lobby he stole hurriedly across the street.
Chapter Ten
In the shadows at the corner of the building, Bannister reconnoitered. He looked hastily up and down the dim street but saw no one. He slipped around the building and saw an open window. Just as he reached it, he heard Link’s voice: “I better close that window and pull the shade down.”
Quick as light Bannister’s gun was out. Standing to one side of the window, well out of sight, he slipped up his hand and thrust the muzzle of the gun across the sill at the extreme side. The window came down, but the muzzle of the gun prevented it from closing completely. Link, excited, noted nothing unusual. He pulled down the curtain and Bannister bent his ear to the crack.
“Well, he’s down there,” said Link in his thin voice. “Big Bill sent me to tell you.”
“Who’s down where?” Cromer demanded testily.
“That fellow Bannister,” was the reply. “He’s down at the ranch. Miss Marble’s hired him.”
“How’d Hayes know who he is?” asked Cromer curtly.
“I overheard him an’ the girl talkin’ last night,” said Link impatiently. “An’ two of the boys rode in from town with some more information. I guess you know the two.”
“Never mind them,” said Cromer sharply. It was plain he was no stranger to authority and was accustomed to be obeyed. “So Hayes sent you up to tell me that. Well, it’s kind of him. I’ve only known it since night before last. But what’s this about taking orders from Miss Marble only?”
“’S fact,” Link affirmed. “’Fronted Bill this mornin’ when Bill ordered him out on the range. Manley owned up to it. An’ the lady boss horned into the play an’ told Bill where to head in at.”
There was a period of silence. “Well,” said Cromer slowly in an ominous voice, “that’s news. What’s she set him to doing?”
“That’s just it,” Link answered eagerly. “I heard ’em talkin’ last night an’ she told him she didn’t know what orders to give him. Said they’d been losin’ cattle, though. An’ then she told him he would make a good companion for that young Howard brat. All rot.”
“Can’t tell,” said Cromer dubiously. “She’s a queer girl. And this Bannister did the kid a good turn by pulling him away from that killer, Le Beck.”
“Now you’re playin’ blue checks!” Link exclaimed in triumph. “That Bannister drew on Le Beck. Do you think he’d have done that if he hadn’t thought he could beat him to it? An’ he did beat him to it. The boys say it was the fastest piece of gun work they’d ever seen.”
“Oh, well, draws under such circumstances always look faster than they are,” said Cromer with a yawn.
“Maybe you think so,” said Link. Then, lowering his voice: “Do you know who the sheriff an’ them thought this fellow was? Thought hard enough to follow him around?”
“Another secret, I suppose,” said Cromer.
“It is, if he’s the man,” Link continued. “They think he’s The Maverick.”
“All crazy,” was Cromer’s derisive comment.
“He fits this Maverick’s description tight as hide on a cow,” Link asserted stoutly. “He’s a mystery, too. Nobody knows where he comes from or anything about him. He’s lightning with the cards, too, an’ the Maverick’s noted for that.”
“You gazeboes down there have got the best imaginations I ever heard of,” declared Cromer irritably. “Why don’t some of you try him out and make sure. If the sheriff thinks this is The Maverick, why doesn’t he arrest him? Answer that.”
“The sheriff says he’s been on so many false clues he isn’t goin’ to take any more chances,” Link replied. “But he went to see him, the boys say, when this fellow refused to go to see him when he was sent for, an’ he made the sheriff’s idea as sound as butter in a hot sun. He’s clever. You’ll have cash in this bank, lots of it. He may be hanging around to get the lay for a job.”
This caused Cromer to sit up sharply in his chair. It was the first suggestion during Link’s discourse that caught his serious attention. “Link, you’re a fool,” he said. But his voice lacked conviction. “If this Bannister was that outlaw, he’d look like him. The Maverick’s got a hard look, you can bet your stack on that. He’s got a pair of eyes that go through you. But I want this fellow out of here, and I’m going to get him out. If you fellows help, it’ll be salt in your tin. You’ve got him on the ranch where you want him. Frame him … anything except shooting him in the back. That’d look too bad for all of us. Now get out of here and go back and tell Hayes what I said.”
“Sure,” said Link in a purring voice. “But I thought I’d do just a little gambling tonight . . . if it’s all right with you.”
Cromer swore. “Here’s a hundred,” he snarled. “It’s the limit. You fellows will break me with your loans, and the day you pay back, these mountains will move back a mile.”
“That’ll give you more land to plant suckers on.” Link grinned, backing toward the door.
Outside the window Bannister straightened. As he did so that intangible sixth sense of the trail follower caused him to whirl about just as a body hurtled upon him. The impact drove him back against the side of the building and down on one knee. He grasped a leg and twisted it with all his strength. There was a grunt and his assailant was upon the ground. He flung himself upon the man who he couldn’t see in the darkness. They rolled over and o
ver in fierce, silent combat. Then another weight crashed down upon him and he was gripped from behind.
“Hold him!” a voice croaked.
But Bannister, with his great youthful strength, braced himself on his knees and reared backward, wrenching his right arm free from the grip of the second attacker. There was a curse as they went over. He twisted and got a grip on a throat. The hold loosened, and he was out of it in a second, striking upward. He found a mark and drew a second curse. He ran blindly to the rear of the building. A horse snorted.
“Here,” came Howard’s voice.
Bannister saw the forms of the horses dimly, spoke to his mount, and was in the saddle in a twinkling.
Now angry tongues of red streaked the black velvet of the night. His hand whipped to his side, only to encounter an empty holster. They were out of the impenetrable shadow of the buildings now and Bannister called to Howard to wait. He had left his gun sticking in the window of Cromer’s private office!
The firing had ceased, but excited exclamations came from the street and the front of the office building. Bannister slipped from the saddle and stole back to the shadow of the building, edging along the wall. The dim light from the shaded window guided him. He reached for the gun and jerked. But the gun sight caught inside the sash. He pressed his fingers into the small crack and pushed up the window to release the gun. It fell into his hand. In securing it his form had been outlined in the dim glow from within for a moment.
There was a yell from the street. A gun blazed as Bannister leaped aside, hot lead whistling past his ears. His right hand came up and streaked down across in front of him in a rain of fire. He ran back toward the horses, a shrill yell of pain cutting the night air. He recognized the high-pitched outcry as coming from Link. Then he was in the saddle and they were racing down behind the buildings. A tent loomed and they virtually went through it, the ropes giving way like threads under the flying hoofs of their horses. Beyond was the open ground. They gained it and struck southward at the fastest pace their mounts could command.
“What happened?” Howard shouted.
But Bannister didn’t answer. He believed he had killed Link.
Chapter Eleven
When they reached the ranch and were looking after their horses, Bannister told Howard about the fight in the dark, and gave it as his opinion that two of Cromer’s men had seen him peering in the office window and had attacked. They must have known who he was or they wouldn’t have fired. Undoubtedly the irrigation head, eager to get him, had given orders to certain of his henchmen to do the job if they had the chance. The firing, of course, brought out Cromer and Link; the other two had shouted his name, or had seen him in the dim light from the window, and opened up.
“Anyway, I hit Link, for I recognized his shout, and now, I suppose, there’ll be the devil to pay,” he finished. “May gum up the works. More’n likely Campbell will be hot-footing it down here. Cromer’ll want to know why I was looking in his window, and he’ll know I heard what he said about getting me and who he thinks I am . . . dog-gone if I don’t believe it’s a mess.”
“Why so?” Howard asked. “They was shooting at you first, and I don’t believe Cromer’ll want anything said about the window part of it, because you heard him tell Link to get you down here any way he could. How’s Cromer going to explain why he wants you killed?”
“Well, there’s something in that,” Bannister conceded. “But on the other hand he can deny he ever said any such thing, an’ how am I going to prove he did?”
“Didn’t I see ’em blazing away at you?” Howard countered. “Still that doesn’t prove anything, either. We’ll have to wait an’ see. Let’s grab a wink. We’ll sleep in the house so they can’t surprise us in the bunkhouse if they come.”
Bannister thought that a good idea and they stole into the big living room, where Howard dropped upon the sofa and Bannister took one of the huge easy chairs.
But no one came, and Florence found them there sound asleep, in the morning. The pair avoided mention of the shooting of Link and talked evasively of their visit to the irrigation town. No, they hadn’t seen Cromer as he was in Prairie City. Yes, the bank building was coming along fine. Yes, everything was going good. Something in the manner and tone of their casual replies aroused Florence Marble’s curiosity and fed her suspicions.
“I know!” she exclaimed in triumph. “You two have been gambling! Did you lose much?”
“Not a thing,” sang Bannister, with a sly wink at Howard.
After breakfast they went out to the bunkhouse.
“I don’t understand,” said Bannister. “You’d think Campbell would come down, wouldn’t you? Or somebody? I never like it when it’s quiet. I hate mystery. What would they do with Link if he isn’t dead?”
“Isn’t what?” This came from old Jeb White, who had suddenly appeared in the doorway.
“We heard Link was shot up in Marble last night,” Bannister answered casually. “I was wondering what they’d do with him if he was just wounded.”
“They’d take him to the company hospital,” said Howard. “They’ve got a place where they take care of their men who are hurt.”
“Wal, horns of Hades!” old Jeb cried. “If he’s just hurt, my day’s ruined, even if the sun’s shining. That little black-faced double-crosser ought to have been wearing more holes in his hide than a Swiss cheese long ago. How come?”
“No one’s come down this morning with the details,” Bannister replied, avoiding an explanation. “Maybe this is somebody now.”
They hurried to the door in response to the thundering of hoofs and saw that somebody, indeed, had come. It was the foreman, Big Bill Hayes. He spotted Bannister at once, literally leaped from the saddle, flinging his reins for Jeb White to gather in, and confronted him just outside the bunkhouse door.
“So ye tried to knock him off, eh?” His eyes were bloodshot, thick lips drawn inward, rage in every inch of him.
“Off what?” Bannister drawled. “A fence?”
“You’re sharp, you damned spy!” Hayes roared. “You shot Link up there last night.”
“Did I kill him?” Bannister inquired.
This infuriated Hayes beyond any point of reason. He flung his huge bulk forward with extraordinary agility for so large a man. But Bannister’s side-step was quick and sure as a cat can whirl. He went under Hayes’s rush, met it with an uppercut to the jaw. This merely snapped his opponent’s head back a bit. And, as Bannister went through, a huge arm caught him and hurled him backward several feet.
Howard was jumping about excitedly and Jeb White was leaning with his hands on his knees, his eyes shining, his mouth wide open.
Hayes rushed again. This time Bannister did not try to hit him. He danced away. Hayes swung wide and so viciously that he threw himself off balance. It was Bannister’s opportunity. He darted in like a flash. Hayes saw the blow coming—a tremendous straight right—but he was not set to avoid it. It landed flushly on his jaw and he swayed and stood as if looking vacantly at some distant object. Next he was in the dust, sitting there, with his hands on the ground behind him, a silly smile on his face, as if he had just at that moment thought it funny. But in another moment the smile was gone and the eyes were darting hate. He rose slowly, leaning to the left, and, as his right hand came up off the ground, Bannister’s voice spoke sharply.
“Now, don’t try that!”
Hayes glared as he saw that Bannister had drawn leisurely and was nodding his gun up and down.
“I’ll get you for this,” said Hayes, on his feet.
“Well, my friend,” Bannister drawled, “don’t try too hard.”
Hayes stalked angrily around to the porch, rapped loudly on the screen door. Florence Marble answered.
“Where’s Manley?” he demanded gruffly. His jaw was swelling.
“I don’t just know,” Florence answered. “Your voice sounds kind of rough, Hayes, why don’t you try cough drops?”
“I didn’t come here for
jokes, Miss Marble, but on mighty serious business. Since Manley ain’t here, maybe you’ll hear what I’ve got to say.”
“I’m always ready to talk to my foreman, but I won’t allow him to be the least disrespectful,” she answered. “Come in.”
His manner now underwent a change. He removed his hat and sat down. Then he spoke seriously.
“Miss Marble, Link was shot down up in Marble last night.”
“Link . . . shot?” she asked in startled tones.
“Shot down in the dark.” He nodded. “He’s in the company’s hospital up there. He may pull through.”
“Who did it, Hayes?” she asked anxiously.
“That’s it,” he said somewhat eagerly. “We know, or they know up there, who did it. It was that new man, Bannister. He’s had it in for Link ever since he got here. But Cromer won’t let us do anything about it because he thinks it might hurt your feelings or something.”
“I don’t believe it!” she exclaimed emphatically. “He was with Howard up there last night.”
Hayes shrugged. “I suppose he was, but would that stop him being recognized? The men don’t like it, Miss Marble, they think he’s not on the square. If he was anything at all, why did he take this job . . . if you can call it a job . . . acting as young Howard’s chaperone? That’s no man’s job.”
“That’s enough,” said Florence sharply. “It’s a man’s job if he makes the kind of a man I want Howard to be. And you just remember that he might have taken the job because I asked him and . . .” She paused, colored, and bit her lip. She couldn’t tell anyone what Bannister’s job was. “No, I didn’t mean that,” she continued. “Later on, he may do something else . . . but right now he’s traveling with Howard.”
“That may all be,” said Hayes grimly, “but the men are complaining. They’re threatening to quit an’ go to work on the project if you don’t ditch him.”
Marble Range Page 7
