The Ranchman
Page 25
CHAPTER XXV--KEATS LOOKS FOR "SQUINT"
Neil Norton had been attending to Taylor's affairs in Dawes during thelatter's illness, and he had ridden to the Arrow this morning to discusswith Taylor a letter he had received--for Taylor--from a Denver cattlebuyer. The inquiry was for Herefords of certain markings and quality,and Norton could give the buyer no information. So Norton had come toTaylor for the information.
"The herd is grazing in the Kelso Basin," Taylor told Norton. Nortonknew the Kelso Basin was at least fifteen miles distant from the Arrowranchhouse--a deep, wide valley directly west, watered by the same riverthat flowed near the Arrow ranchhouse.
"I can't say, offhand, whether we've got what your Denver man wants." Hegrinned at Norton, adding: "But it's a fine morning for a ride, and Ihaven't done much riding lately. I'll go and take a look."
"I'll be looking, too," declared Norton. "The _Eagle_ forms are readyfor the press, and there isn't much to do."
Later, Taylor, mounted on Spotted Tail, and Norton on a big, rangysorrel, the two men rode away. Taylor stopped at the horse corral gatelong enough to tell Bud Hemmingway, who was replacing a bar, that he andNorton were riding to the Kelso Basin.
And there was one other to whom he had spoken--when he had gone into thehouse to buckle on his cartridge-belt and pistols, just before he wentout to saddle Spotted Tail. It was the girl who had tantalized him whilethey had been sitting on the rock. She had not spoken frivolously to himinside the house; instead, she had gravely warned him to be "careful;"that his wounds might bother him on a long ride--and that she didn'twant him to suffer a relapse. And she watched him as he and Norton rodeaway, following the dust-cloud that enveloped them until it vanishedinto the mists of distance. Then she turned from the door with a sigh,thinking of the fate that had made her dependent upon the charity of theman she loved.
To Bud Hemmingway, working at the corral gate about an hour followingthe departure of Taylor and Norton, there came an insistent demand tolook toward Dawes. It was merely one of those absurd impulses foundedupon a whim provoked by self-manufactured presentiment--but Bud looked.What he saw caused him to stand erect and stare hard at the trailbetween Mullarky's cabin and the Arrow--for about two miles out came adozen or more riders, their horses traveling fast.
For several seconds Bud watched intently, straining his eyes in aneffort to distinguish something about the men that would make theiridentity clear. And then he dropped the hammer he had been working withand ran to the bunkhouse, where he put on his cartridge-belt and pistol.
Returning to the bunkhouse door, he stood in it for a time, watching theapproaching men. Then he scowled, muttering:
"It's that damned Keats an' some of his bunch! What in hell are theywantin' at the Arrow?"
Bud was standing near the edge of the front gallery when Keats and hismen rode up. There were fourteen of the men, and, like their leader,they were ill-visaged, bepistoled.
Marion Harlan had heard the noise of their approach, and she had come tothe front door. She stood in the opening, her gaze fixed inquiringlyupon the riders, though chiefly upon Keats, whose manner proclaimed himthe leader. He looked at Bud.
"Hello, Hemmingway!" he greeted, gruffly. "I take it the outfit ain'tin?"
"Workin', Kelso," returned Bud. Bud's gaze at Keats was belligerent; heresented the presence of Keats and the men at the Arrow, for he hadnever liked Keats, and he knew the relations between the visitor andTaylor were strained almost to the point of open antagonism.
"What's eatin' you guys?" demanded Bud.
"Plenty!" stated Keats importantly. He turned to the men.
"Scatter!" he commanded; "an' rustle him up, if he's anywhere around!Hey!" he shouted at a slender, rat-faced individual. "You an' Darbeysearch the house! Two more of you take a look at the bunkhouse--and therest of you nose around the other buildin's. Keep your eyes peeled, an'if he goes to gettin' fresh, plug him plenty!"
"Why, what is wrong?" demanded Marion. Her face was pale withindignation, for she resented the authoritative tone used by Keats asmuch as she resented the thought of the two men entering the houseunbidden.
Keats's face flamed with sudden passion. With a snap of his wrist hedrew his gun and trained its muzzle on Bud.
"Wrong enough!" he snapped. He was looking at Bud while answering MissHarlan's question. "I'm after Squint Taylor, an' I'm goin' to gethim--that's all! An' if you folks go to interferin' it'll be the worsefor you!"
Marion stiffened and braced herself in the doorway, her eyes wide withdread and her lips parted to ask the question that Bud now spoke, hisvoice drawling slightly with sarcasm.
"Taylor, eh?" he said. "What you wantin' with Taylor?"
"I'm wantin' him for murderin' Larry Harlan!" snapped Keats.
Bud gulped, drew a deep breath and went pale. He looked at Marion, andsaw that the girl was terribly moved by Keats's words. But neither thegirl nor Bud spoke while Keats dismounted, crossed the porch, andstopped in front of the door, which was barred by the girl's body.
"Get out of the way--I'm goin' in!" ordered Keats.
The girl moved aside to let him pass, and as he crossed the thresholdshe asked, weakly:
"How do you--how do they know Mr. Taylor killed Larry Harlan?"
Keats turned on her, grinning mirthlessly.
"How do we know anything?" he jeered. "Evidence--that's what--an' plentyof it!"
Keats vanished inside, and Bud, his eyes snapping with the alert glanceshe threw around him, slowly backed away from the porch toward thestable. As he turned, after backing several feet, he saw Marion walkslowly to a rocker that stood on the porch, drop weakly into it andcover her face with her hands.
Gaining the stable, Bud worked fast; throwing a saddle and bridle uponKing, the speediest horse in the Arrow outfit, excepting Spotted Tail.
With movements that he tried hard to make casual, but with an impatiencethat made his heart pound heavily, he got King out and led him to therear of the stable.
Some of Keats's men were running from one building to another; but hewas not Taylor, and they seemed to pay no attention to him, beyondgiving him sharp glances.
Passing behind the blacksmith-shop, Bud heard a voice saying:
"Dead or alive, Keats says; an' they'd admire to have him dead. I heardCarrington tellin' Keats!"
As the sound of the voice died away, Bud touched King's flank with thespurs. The big horse, after a day in the stable, was impatient and eagerfor a run, and he swept past the scattered buildings of the ranch withlong, swift leaps that took him out upon the plains before Keats couldcomplete his search of the first floor of the house.
The two men who had searched the upper floor came downstairs, to meetKeats in the front room. They grimly shook their heads at Keats, and athis orders went outside to search with the other men.
Keats stepped to the door, saw Marion sitting limply in therocking-chair, her shoulders convulsed with sobs, and crossed to her,shaking her with a brutal arm.
"Where's that guy I left standin' there? Where's he--Hemmingway?"
"I don't know," said the girl dully.
Keats cursed and ran to the edge of the porch. With his gaze sweepingthe buildings, the pasture, the corrals, and the wide stretch of plainwestward, he stiffened, calling angrily to his men:
"There he goes--damn him! It's that sneakin' Bud Hemmingway, an' he'sgone to tell Taylor we're after him! He knows where Taylor is! Get yourhosses!"
Forced to her feet by the intense activity that followed Keats's loudlybellowed orders, the girl crossed the porch, and from a point near theend railing watched Keats and his men clamber into their saddles andrace after Bud. For a long time she watched them--a tiny blot glidingover the plains, followed by a larger blot--and then she walked slowlyto the rocking-chair, looked down at it as though its spaciousnessinvited her; then she turned from it, entered the house, and going toher room--where Martha was sleeping--began feverishly throwing her fewbelongings into the small handbag she had brought with he
r from the bighouse.