“Maybe it’s a case,” said Buck, brightening.
“It’s possible that Graham may be bringing us in touch with a client,” said Davitt. “Do you know what a client is, Buck?”
“A client is a fellow that goes to a lawyer and gets himself made into a sap,” returned Buck testily, rising from his chair. “The way you’re combing your hair, you’d think old Sylvester was expecting his daughter to be present.”
“That’s not impossible, either,” was Davitt’s comment. “But Virginia doesn’t have to arrange a meeting with me through her father.”
“Oh, no? So you’re just like that since he invited you to dinner with her,” Buck scoffed.
Davitt scowled at him. “We were just the way we are now since the first time I met her and danced with her,” he said sternly. “And that lets you out, wild boy.”
“I’m not trying to pry into your love affairs,” the cowpuncher said, grinning. “I don’t have to have money to grease mine with, though, and I’m holding that you didn’t put ten thousand in old Graham’s bank just because you thought it would be safe there.”
“That’ll do for you!” snapped Davitt. “We have business on hand and it’s nearly ten o’clock.”
“Glad you remembered it,” said Buck calmly. “Don’t forget a man can make a fool of himself quick and easy over a woman just like he can by getting mad.”
* * * * *
Sylvester Graham greeted them with a brief smile and a business-like good morning when they entered his private office in the bank at ten o’clock sharp in response to his curt invitation.
“I didn’t know if you were still in town,” he said to Davitt.
“We stayed because we didn’t have anything in sight for the moment,” Buck explained, lifting his brows and taking a chair.
The banker flashed a questioning glance at Davitt, saw he was smiling, then looked at Buck with disapproval. “It must be of great assistance to Davitt to have someone to speak for him,” he said in a biting tone.
“I don’t warm to being ignored,” was Buck’s sprightly retort. “Your invitation to visit you was addressed to both of us.”
“That was a courtesy,” Graham said with dignity. “After all, it was with Davitt that I first had business, and I’ll take matters up directly with him for the present.”
“What did you wish to see us about, Mister Graham?” Davitt interrupted in an easy voice as he took the chair the banker indicated.
Graham cleared his throat impressively. “Your arrival here and what followed has excited some interest,” he said pompously. “An influential stockman has been experiencing some irregularity, so to speak, on his range. He thought because you were so fortunate in disposing of the desperado who robbed the bank that you might help him in his difficulty.”
Davitt glanced at the clock on the wall. “He’s late, isn’t he?” he asked pleasantly, with a sly look at Buck.
“I arranged for him to come a few minutes after you got here,” Graham informed them, frowning. “He saw you then and told you about …”
“Oh no, no,” Davitt interrupted. “I merely surmised that you had arranged our visit at a time when this stockman could be here.”
The banker looked at Buck doubtfully. “Anyway, I wanted a word with you beforehand. Lamby … Roy Lamby … is one of our leading stockmen, a director of this bank, and a figure in the county politics. For reasons of his own, which he will explain to you personally, he hasn’t seen fit to call his trouble to the attention of the sheriff or the Cattlemen’s Association.”
“I see,” said Davitt with a queer smile. “He wants to work on the quiet. I may as well tell you, Mister Graham, that I take no cases involving range disputes or personal grudges.”
“And we’re particular about how much money there is in it, too,” Buck put in with a wise wink at his partner.
“Granger,”—Graham struggled to control himself and finally his features froze sternly—“you would do better to let well enough alone,” he said coldly. “Keep hold of what you stumbled onto and go back to work on Frank Payne’s ranch, instead of trying to enter a game you know nothing about.” His eyes flashed just once as he finished.
“Oh, Buck means all right,” Davitt said soothingly. “If you have something to tell us before this man Lamby gets here, we better have it now.”
“It isn’t a range dispute or a grudge,” said Graham, “and I would have you know that I’m interested only indirectly in the matter because, in a way, Lamby is a business associate of mine, and he is a good customer of the bank. I’m always for anything that is for the good of the range up here and I won’t see Lamby or anyone else imposed upon if I can help it. I can’t say that I thoroughly approve of his desiring to take this business up with you.”
“In that case, we better let Lamby come to us himself of his own free will,” Davitt said, coolly rising.
“No, no,” Graham said quickly, shaking his head. “Sit down. I didn’t tell him I disapproved and I’m not sure that I do. Somebody has been stealing his cattle. That is the case in point.”
“Rustling,” Davitt said, sitting down again. “It really should be reported to the association, at that. I don’t know if I am free to undertake such a case unless it is reported.”
“There, there, it’s all right, I tell you,” said Graham. “Of course, I want it understood that what I say is confidential.” He looked quickly at Buck, apparently startled.
“Don’t mind me,” drawled the cowpuncher. “Mel and me are just like that when it comes to what we hear and what we tell and what we say to each other alone.” He crossed two fingers and winked at the banker, who instantly drew himself up with a frown.
“Let us hope so,” he rasped. “You see, Davitt, it’s this way. Lamby doesn’t want to get the Association stirred up because he doesn’t know who the investigation might involve. He … ah … another rancher by name of Matt Hull, who has the place just north of the Triangle … that’s Lamby’s ranch … has had words with him about stock irregularities. That’s about all I wish to say, but perhaps you will see the somewhat delicate position I am in. I am interested in preserving peace, that is …”
“You want to keep on the good side of both of ’em regardless of who’s stealin’ the cattle,” Buck suggested pleasantly.
Graham struck his desk with the palm of his right hand and glared, his lids twitching.
“There might be something in what Buck says,” Davitt interposed quickly. “That would be good policy on your part, naturally. You wanted me to know about these two men in advance. Why?”
“So you would have a sense of the real situation,” said the banker briskly. “You needn’t mention it, but I’ve … I’m expecting Hull here, too.” He glanced quickly through the open doorway into the cage. “Lamby is coming now,” he said in an undertone. “I’ll be plain with you, Granger, and ask you as a favor to be careful what you say.”
“When it comes to dealing with stockmen I’m in my home corral,” Buck returned.
A minute later Graham was on his feet admitting Lamby to the office. “Davitt is here with his … his friend,” he told the rancher.
“No doubt,” said Lamby in a worn, cracked voice. He was a tall, spare man, with loose, hanging mustache of sandy hue, but Davitt thought he detected humor in the pale blue eyes and felt inclined to like the man from the start. There was something about him, too, which suggested shrewdness and a nimble mind in an emergency. He must have his qualities to possess and rule one of the largest stock ranches on that great range.
“You quit the Payne outfit?” he asked Buck with a keen glance.
“I’m trailing with Davitt, here, for the present,” Buck replied, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Later he was to tell Davitt that there had always been something about Lamby’s look or manner that got his goat.
“I suppose Sil has told you what I wanted to see you
about?” the stockman asked Davitt as he sat down, and the banker retreated behind his desk.
“He merely mentioned some stock irregularities,” said Davitt.
“I told him you had lost some cattle and didn’t want to take it up with the association or the sheriff,” said Graham. “It was your own suggestion, you’ll remember, that it might be well for you to talk to Davitt, and I arranged this meeting.”
“Well, that’s about the size of it,” Lamby said, nodding at Davitt. “I’ve been losing stock and want to find out about it without stirring up the whole range. A spark, you know, can start a fire.”
“In the right place,” said Davitt. “If it’s just a matter of details, why, we can discuss those without taking up space in Mister Graham’s office. In fact, I’d rather talk about it with you, personally.”
“That’s all right with me,” agreed Lamby. “I’m sort of in doubt whether you want to take me up in this, since it’s a small matter. Then, there’s the item of your pay to be considered.”
“Yes, the matter of compensation should be thoroughly understood in advance,” Graham said hastily, nodding his head at Lamby.
Davitt thought he discerned a quality in the stockman’s look and speech that escaped the banker. “How many cattle have you lost?” he asked abruptly.
“I suppose a hundred head,” replied Lamby, offhand.
“We’ll take twenty-five percent of the value of stock recovered,” Davitt announced without an instant’s hesitation.
“Twenty-five percent!” exclaimed Graham. “Why, that’s outrageous! It’s … it’s absolutely preposterous!”
“Which would you prefer to lose, one hundred percent or twenty-five percent?” Davitt asked Lamby.
“Why, twenty-five percent, of course,” the rancher answered.
“Then I’ll make that our bit … if I take the case,” said Davitt with a sharp glance at the frowning banker. “You’ll not forget the terms of this verbal agreement, Graham?”
“Why, no, of course not,” Graham said, somewhat flustered. “But it’s considerable. Of the two alternatives you suggest, I suppose it’s the most sensible one to choose.”
“Then we might as well go, Mister Lamby,” Davitt said, rising. “I handle business like this in my own way, without interference, you understand? I’m holding you to the agreement as well, Mister Graham … for I have a means of doing that.”
Before the banker could speak, a series of sharp raps sounded on the door. Then the knob turned, and the door swung open before a large, florid man whose protruding eyes seemed to look at each of them at once.
“Come in, come in, Mister Hull,” Graham invited in a flurried tone. “You know Lamby, of course, and this is Mel Davitt.”
“I’ve heard of him,” Hull said, closing the door and looking hard at Davitt. “Prairie detective, eh?”
“Mister Davitt, to you,” said Davitt coldly.
Buck Granger chuckled and opened his eyes wide as Hull turned on him, his face dark. “And you’re the gun-toting waddy I heard about, I suppose,” he said harshly.
“You seem to be getting a lot of information somewhere,” said Buck in an exaggerated drawl. “My name’s Granger, in case you want to write it down.”
“Never mind,” Graham said sharply. “These men were here on business, and they were just about to leave when you came,” he explained to Hull with a faint note of apology in his voice.
Hull gave no indication of hearing. He was looking at Lamby. “I reckon you came in on that range business, Lamby. Well, if you figure on hiring this pair, you better tell ’em it isn’t open season for shooting up my way.”
“If I’ve hired ’em, it doesn’t have to mean I’ve hired ’em to do any shooting,” Lamby told him with a faint smile which curled a bit suspiciously. “You seem to be jumping at conclusions, Matt.”
“You had men on my range looking for strays, so you said, and I don’t like it!” thundered Hull, favoring Graham with a dark glance. “Anybody’d think somebody was stealing your cattle and that that somebody was me.”
“That’s not exactly fair,” Lamby said quietly. “You told me you had missed some stock yourself.”
“And so I have,” Hull declared. “If you’ve hired this pair to find yours and they find mine too, I’ll pay ’em as much as you do.”
“And that is fair,” Graham put in. “Why don’t you two get together in this matter? If rustling is really going on, it’s to the best interests of both of you to get to the bottom of it and stamp it out.”
“That’s a nice speech, but I’m willing,” said Hull. “Go ahead with your scheme and I’ll back you up.” He looked at Graham and nodded solemnly.
“That’s an excellent idea,” Graham said eagerly, rubbing his hands. “There’s no need to let the whole range know about it, either.”
“So long as everybody’s satisfied, let’s trail along, Buck,” drawled Davitt. “We’ll be up at the Green Bottle if anybody wants to see us.”
He stepped to the door with Buck close behind him. “Suppose you three plot it out so we can take hold of the plan and unravel it to suit ourselves,” he said pleasantly as he opened the door.
They went out, leaving the banker and the two stockmen staring after them with incongruous expressions on their faces.
Chapter Eleven
Instead of going to the Green Bottle, Davitt led the way up the street to the hotel which they had left to keep the appointment with Sylvester Graham. Buck said nothing. He was content to let Davitt manage things in his own way and to find out for himself why this skilled prairie sleuth made his moves. He relished working with Davitt because their activities were more than likely to involve danger. But he had learned that Davitt was not altogether infallible in his shrewd deductions. He was ready to listen to a suggestion and Buck liked him all the better for this trait.
When they entered the hotel lobby, Davitt led the way through a door to the snug little bar, put up a finger at the bartender, and ordered two libations.
“Wait a minute,” Buck protested in a voice that carried to his companion’s ears alone. “I thought you said the rule was no drink until four o’clock in the afternoon, and then only one before supper and two in the evening.”
“A very good rule,” nodded Davitt with his catching smile. “An excellent rule. That is why it can be broken in an emergency, especially when it’s good business. By the way, if any rules are broken when we are together, I will break them first.”
“And when I’m alone, I’m to use my best judgment, I suppose,” Buck grunted. “I suppose that covers the shoot first situation.”
“If it is necessary to bring that particular rule into operation, Buck, never break it,” said Davitt soberly. “When it comes to making a target of oneself, it is better to stick to the rule and remain alive to regret any mistake than to break the rule and become thoroughly and permanently dead. We’ll play around with our drinks, for I want a little time.”
There were only two other patrons in the place and Buck noticed this pair paid no attention to them. He looked at Davitt curiously and saw he was smiling to himself.
“You look pleased,” he told Davitt. “What do you make of it?”
“I’m both pleased and amused,” said Davitt, “and this looks as if it would turn out to be an interesting piece of work for us.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Buck, I’ve a hunch we’re being watched,” he said finally. “You remember last night I kept looking past you when we were playing in that game, sitting at opposite sides of the table? Well, a little fellow was looking on, pretending he was watching the play, but I got the impression he was more interested in me than in the game.”
“What did he look like?” asked Buck eagerly.
“Looked like a little bowlegged crab, with a black frowsy mustache and a pair of squinting eyes that looked as if they had been screwed into his
head. If he’s got a nickname it ought to be Screw-eye. We’ll call him that, anyway.”
“Have you seen him since, Mel?”
“That’s the point,” replied Davitt with another frown. “I saw him in the lobby this morning when we came down to breakfast. I’d noticed him because he’s the kind of a gink a man would notice every time he saw him. Then, when we came out of the bank just now, I saw him again. He was standing in front of the Green Bottle. It struck me he was watching for us. He went into that place, which is why I didn’t go there. I wanted to see if he’d drift up here. Suppose you take your drink, or spill it, and mosey out and see if you spot anybody answering my description. If you do, keep an eye on him, casual-like, and if you see Lamby, tell him I’m up here.”
“Suits me fine,” said Buck with satisfaction. “I’ll spot him and …” He paused and looked at Davitt thoughtfully as he tossed off the small drink. “Maybe he was connected with that Crow bunch we busted up and knows you from down south somewhere.”
“I don’t think so,” Davitt said. “I know most of that crowd and I’d never forget a pair of screw-eyes like this fellow has got. Don’t let him get wise. Remember, he probably knows you’re traveling with me. Maybe he’s just curious, but it pays to be careful.”
When Buck Granger had gone out, the bartender approached Davitt with a respectful mien. “You’re wearing the finest hat I ever saw,” he said, jerking a thumb toward Davitt’s big cream Stetson.
“Thanks,” Davitt returned coolly. “I’ll take it off soon.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to say anything out of the way,” the barkeeper apologized.
“I know you didn’t,” was Davitt’s cold reply. “That’s why you wouldn’t understand what I mean.”
The other retreated to his nook at the lower end of the bar, followed by Davitt’s keen gaze.
At this juncture a man swung in from the hotel lobby, paused with his legs well apart, his hands on his hips, and caught Davitt’s eye in the mirror behind the bar. He was tall, heavily built, sunburned, and commanding in appearance. Davitt had occasion to look at the newcomer twice through the medium of the mirror before the man sauntered to a place at his side.
Three Trails to Triangle Page 9
