CHAPTER XXI
THE PROMISE
Ferguson heard loud talking and laughter in the bunkhouse when hepassed there an hour after his departure from the Radford cabin in BearFlat. It was near sundown and the boys were eating supper. Fergusonsmiled grimly as he rode his pony to the corral gate, dismounted,pulled off the bridle and saddle, and turned the animal into thecorral. The presence of the boys at the bunkhouse meant that the wagonoutfit had come in--meant that Leviatt would have to come in--if he hadnot already done so.
The stray-man's movements were very deliberate; there was an absence ofsuperfluous energy that told of intensity of thought and singleness ofpurpose. He shouldered the saddle with a single movement, walked withit to the lean-to, threw it upon its accustomed peg, hung the bridlefrom the pommel, and then turned and for a brief time listened to thetalk and laughter that issued from the open door and windows of thebunkhouse. With a sweep of his hands he drew his two guns from theirholsters, rolled the cylinders and examined them minutely. Then hereplaced the guns, hitched at his cartridge belt, and stepped out ofthe door of the lean-to.
In spite of his promise to Mary Radford to the effect that he wouldreturn to prove to her that he was not the man who had attempted tokill her brother he had no hope of discovering the guilty man. Hissuspicions, of course, centered upon Leviatt, but he knew that underthe circumstances Mary Radford would have to be given convincing proof.The attempted murder of her brother, following the disclosure that hehad been hired by Stafford to do the deed, must have seemed to hersufficient evidence of his guilt. He did not blame her for feelingbitter toward him; she had done the only thing natural under thecircumstances. He had been very close to the garden of happiness--justclose enough to scent its promise of fulfilled joy, when the gates hadbeen violently closed in his face, to leave him standing without,contemplating the ragged path over which he must return to the old life.
He knew that Leviatt had been the instrument that had caused the gatesto close; he knew that it had been he who had dropped the word that hadcaused the finger of accusation to point to him. "Stafford didn't hireyou to do it," Mary Radford had said, ironically. The words rang inhis ears still. Who had told her that Stafford had hired him to shootRadford? Surely not Stafford. He himself had not hinted at the reasonof his presence at the Two Diamond. And there was only one other manwho knew. That man was Leviatt. As he stood beside the door of thelean-to the rage in his heart against the range boss grew more bitter,and the hues around his mouth straightened more grimly.
A few minutes later he stalked into the bunkhouse, among the men who,after finishing their meal, were lounging about, their small talkfilling the room. The talk died away as he entered, the men adroitlygave him room, for there was something in the expression of his eyes,in the steely, boring glances that he cast about him, that told thesemen, inured to danger though they were, that the stray-man was in nogentle mood. He dropped a short word to the one among them that heknew best, at which they all straightened, for through the word theyknew that he was looking for Leviatt.
But they knew nothing of Leviatt beyond the fact that he and Tucson hadnot accompanied the wagon to the home ranch. They inferred that therange boss and Tucson had gone about some business connected with thecattle. Therefore Ferguson did not stop long in the bunkhouse.Without a word he was gone, striding rapidly toward the ranchhouse.They looked after him, saying nothing, but aware that his quest forLeviatt was not without significance.
Five minutes later he was in Stafford's office. The latter had beenworrying about him. When Ferguson entered the manager's manner was atrifle anxious.
"You seen anything of Radford yet?" he inquired.
"I ain't got anything on Radford," was the short reply.
His tone angered the manager. "I ain't askin' if you've got anythingon him," he returned. "But we missed more cattle yesterday, an' itlooks mighty suspicious. Since we had that talk about Radford, whenyou told me it wasn't him doin' the rustlin' I've changed my mind aheap. I'm thinkin' he rustled them cattle last night."
Ferguson looked quizzically at him. "How many cattle you missin'?" hequestioned.
Stafford banged a fist heavily down upon his desk top. "We're twentycalves short on the tally," he declared, "an' half a dozen cows. Weain't got to the steers yet, but I'm expectin' to find them short too."
Ferguson drew a deep breath. The number of cattle missing talliedexactly with the number he had seen in the basin down the river. Aglint of triumph lighted his eyes, but he looked down upon Stafford,drawling:
"You been doin' the tallyin'?"
"Yes."
Ferguson was now smiling grimly.
"Where's your range boss?" he questioned.
"The boys say he rode over to the river lookin' for strays. Sent wordthat he'd be in to-morrow. But I don't see what he's got to do----"
"No," returned Ferguson, "of course. You say them cattle was rustledlast night?"
"Yes." Stafford banged his fist down with a positiveness that left nodoubt of his knowledge.
"Well, now," observed Ferguson, "an' so you're certain Radford rustledthem." He smiled again saturninely.
"I ain't sayin' for certain," returned Stafford, puzzled by Ferguson'smanner. "What I'm gettin' at is that there ain't no one around herethat'd rustle them except Radford."
"There ain't no other nester around here that you know of?" questionedFerguson.
"No. Radford's the only one."
Ferguson lingered a moment. Then he walked slowly to the door. "Ireckon that's all," he said. "To-morrow I'm goin' to show you yourrustler."
He had stepped out of the door and was gone into the gathering duskbefore Stafford could ask the question that was on the end of histongue.
The Two-Gun Man Page 21
