CHAPTER XXII
KEEPING A PROMISE
Ferguson's dreams had been troubled. Long before dawn he was awake andoutside the bunkhouse, splashing water over his face from the tin washbasin that stood on the bench just outside the door. Before breakfasthe had saddled and bridled Mustard, and directly after the meal he wasin the saddle, riding slowly toward the river.
Before very long he was riding through Bear Flat, and after a time hecame to the hill where only two short days before he had reveled in thesupreme happiness that had followed months of hope and doubt. It didnot seem as though it had been only two days. It seemed that time wasplaying him a trick. Yet he knew that to-day was like yesterday--eachday like its predecessor--that if the hours dragged it was because inthe bitterness of his soul he realized that today could not be--forhim--like the day before yesterday; and that succeeding days gave nopromise of restoring to him the happiness that he had lost.
He saw the sun rising above the rim of hills that surrounded the flat;he climbed to the rock upon which he had sat--with her--watching theshadows retreat to the mountains, watching the sun stream down into theclearing and upon the Radford cabin. But there was no longer beauty inthe picture--for him. Hereafter he would return to that life that hehad led of old; the old hard life that he had known before his briefromance had given him a fleeting glimpse of what might have been.
Many times, when his hopes had been high, he had felt a chilling fearthat he would never be able to reach the pinnacle of promise; that inthe end fate would place before him a barrier--the barrier in the shapeof his contract with Stafford, that he had regretted many times.
Mary Radford would never believe his protest that he had not been hiredto kill her brother. Fate, in the shape of Leviatt, had forestalledhim there. Many times, when she had questioned him regarding the heroin her story, he had been on the point of taking her into hisconfidence as to the reason of his presence at the Two Diamond, but hehad always put it off, hoping that things would be righted in the endand that he would be able to prove to her the honesty of his intentions.
But now that time was past. Whatever happened now she would believehim the creature that she despised--that all men despised; the man whostrikes in the dark.
This, then, was to be the end. He could not say that he had beenentirely blameless. He should have told her. But it was not the endthat he was now contemplating. There could be no end until there hadbeen an accounting between him and Leviatt. Perhaps the men who hadshot Ben Radford in the back would never be known. He had hissuspicions, but they availed nothing. In the light of presentcircumstances Miss Radford would never hold him guiltless.
Until near noon he sat on the rock on the crest of the hill, the linesof his face growing more grim, his anger slowly giving way to thesatisfying calmness that comes when the mind has reached a conclusion.There would be a final scene with Leviatt, and then----
He rose from the rock, made his way deliberately down the hillside,mounted his pony, and struck the trail leading to the Two Diamondranchhouse.
About noon Leviatt and Tucson rode in to the Two Diamond corral gate,dismounted from their ponies, and proceeded to the bunkhouse fordinner. The men of the outfit were already at the table, and afterwashing their faces from the tin wash basin on the bench outside thedoor, Leviatt and Tucson entered the bunkhouse and took their places.Greetings were given and returned through the medium of shortnods--with several of the men even this was omitted. Leviatt was not apopular range boss, and there were some of the men who had whisperedtheir suspicions that the death of Rope Jones had not been broughtabout in the regular way. Many of them remembered the incident thathad occurred between Rope, the range boss, Tucson, and the newstray-man, and though opinions differed, there were some who held thatthe death of Rope might have resulted from the ill-feeling engenderedby the incident. But in the absence of proof there was nothing to bedone. So those men who held suspicions wisely refrained from talkingin public.
Before the meal was finished the blacksmith poked his head in throughthe open doorway, calling: "Ol' Man wants to see Leviatt up in theoffice!"
The blacksmith's head was withdrawn before Leviatt, who had heard thevoice but had not seen the speaker, could raise his voice in reply. Hedid not hasten, however, and remained at the table with Tucson for fiveminutes after the other men had left. Then, with a final word toTucson, he rose and strode carelessly to the door of Stafford's office.The latter had been waiting with some impatience, and at the appearanceof the range boss he shoved his chair back from his desk and arose.
"Just come in?" he questioned.
"Just come in," repeated Leviatt drawling. "Plum starved. Had to eatbefore I came down here."
He entered and dropped lazily into a chair near the desk, stretchinghis legs comfortably. He had observed in Stafford's manner certainsigns of a subdued excitement, and while he affected not to noticethis, there was a glint of feline humor in his eyes.
"Somebody said you wanted me," he said. "Anything doin'?"
Stafford had held in as long as he could. Now he exploded.
"What in hell do you suppose I sent for you for?" he demanded, as,walking to and fro in the room, he paused and glared down at the rangeboss. "Where you been? We're twenty calves an' a dozen cows short onthe tally!"
Leviatt looked up, his eyes suddenly flashing. "Whew!" he exclaimed."They're hittin' them pretty heavy lately. When was they missed?"
Stafford spluttered impotently. "Night before last," he flared. "An'not a damned sign of where they went!"
Leviatt grinned coldly. "Them rustlers is gettin' to be pretty slick,ain't they?" he drawled.
Stafford's face swelled with a rage that threatened to bring onapoplexy. He brought a tense fist heavily down upon his desk top.
"Slick!" he sneered. "I don't reckon they're any slick. It's thatI've got a no good outfit. There ain't a man in the bunch could see arustler if he'd hobbled a cow and was runnin' her calf off before theireyes!" He hesitated to gain breath before continuing. "What have Igot an outfit for? What have I got a range boss for? What have Igot----!"
Leviatt grinned wickedly and Stafford hesitated, his hand upraised.
"Your stray-man doin' anything these days?" questioned Leviattsignificantly. "Because if he is," resumed Leviatt, before the managercould reply, "he ought to manage to be around where them thieves areworkin'."
Stafford stiffened. He had developed a liking for the stray-man and hecaught a note of venom in Leviatt's voice.
"I reckon the stray-man knows what he's doin'," he replied. Hereturned to his chair beside the desk and sat in it, facing Leviatt,and speaking with heavy sarcasm. "The stray-man's the only one of thewhole bunch that's doin' anything," he said.
"Sure," sneered Leviatt; "he's gettin' paid for sparkin' Mary Radford."
"Mebbe he is," returned Stafford. "I don't know as I'd blame him anyfor that. But he's been doin' somethin' else now an' then, too."
"Findin' the man that's been rustlin' your stock, for instance," mockedLeviatt.
Stafford leaned back in his chair, frowning.
"Look here, Leviatt," he said steadily. "I might have spoke a littlestrong to you about them missin' cattle. But I reckon you're partly toblame. If you'd been minded to help Ferguson a little, instead ofactin' like a fool because you've thought he's took a shine to MaryRadford, we might have been further along with them rustlers. As itis, Ferguson's been playin' a lone hand. But he claims to have beendoin' somethin'. He ain't been in the habit of blowin' his own horn,an' I reckon we can rely on what he says. I'm wantin' you to keep theboys together this afternoon, for we might need them to help Fergusonout. He's promised to ride in to-day an' show me the man who's beenrustlin' my cattle."
Leviatt's lips slowly straightened. He sat more erect, and when hespoke the mockery had entirely gone from his voice and from his manner.
"He's goin' to do what?" he questioned coldly.
"Show me the
man who's been rustlin' my cattle," repeated Stafford.
For a brief space neither man spoke--nor moved. Stafford's face worethe smile of a man who has just communicated some unexpected andastonishing news and was watching its effect with suppressed enjoyment.He knew that Leviatt felt bitter toward the stray-man and that the newsthat the latter might succeed in doing the thing that he had set out todo would not be received with any degree of pleasure by the range boss.
But watching closely, Stafford was forced to admit that Leviatt did notfeel so strongly, or was cleverly repressing his emotions. There wasno sign on the range boss's face that he had been hurt by the news.His face had grown slightly paler and there was a hard glitter in hisnarrowed eyes. But his voice was steady.
"Well, now," he said, "that ought to tickle you a heap."
"I won't be none disappointed," returned Stafford.
Leviatt looked sharply at him and crossed his arms over his chest.
"When was you talkin' to him?" he questioned.
"Yesterday."
Leviatt's lips moved slightly. "An' when did you say them cattle wasrustled?" he asked.
"Night before last," returned Stafford.
Leviatt was silent for a brief time. Then he unfolded his arms andstood erect, his eyes boring into Stafford's.
"When you expectin' Ferguson?" he questioned.
"He didn't say just when he was comin' in," returned Stafford. "But Ireckon we might expect him any time."
Leviatt strode to the door. Looking back over his shoulder, he smiledevilly. "I'm much obliged to you for tellin' me," he said. "We'll beready for him."
A little over an hour after his departure from the hill, Ferguson rodeup to the Two Diamond corral gate and dismounted.
Grouped around the door of the bunkhouse were several of the TwoDiamond men; in a strip of shade from the blacksmith shop were others.Jocular words were hurled at him by some of the men as he drew thesaddle from Mustard, for the stray-man's quietness and invariablethoughtfulness had won him a place in the affections of many of themen, and their jocular greetings were evidence of this.
He nodded shortly to them, but did not answer. And instead of lugginghis saddle to its accustomed peg in the lean-to, he threw it over thecorral fence and left it. Then, without another look toward the men,he turned and strode toward the manager's office.
The latter was seated at his desk and looked up at the stray-man'sentrance. He opened his lips to speak, but closed them again,surprised at the stray-man's appearance.
During the months that Ferguson had worked at the Two Diamond, Staffordhad not seen him as he looked at this moment. Never, during the manytimes the manager had seen him, had he been able to guess anything ofthe stray-man's emotions by looking at his face. Now, however, therehad come a change. In the set, tightly drawn lips were the tell-talesigns of an utterable resolve. In the narrowed, steady eyes was alight that chilled Stafford like a cold breeze in the heat of asummer's day. In the man's whole body was something that shocked themanager into silence.
He came into the room, standing near the door, his set lips moving avery little, "You heard anything from Leviatt yet?" he questioned.
"Why, yes," returned Stafford, hesitatingly; "he was here, talkin' tome. Ain't been gone more'n half an hour. I reckon he's somewherearound now."
"You talkin' to him, you say?" said the stray-man slowly. He smiledmirthlessly. "I reckon you told him about them missin' calves?"
"I sure did!" returned Stafford with much vehemence. He laughedharshly. "I told him more," he said; "I told him you was goin' to showme the man who'd rustled them."
Ferguson's lips wreathed into a grim smile. "So you told him?" hesaid. "I was expectin' you'd do that, if he got in before me. That'swhy I stopped in here. That was somethin' which I was wantin' him toknow. I don't want it to be said that I didn't give him a chance."
Stafford rose from his chair, taking a step toward the stray-man.
"Why, what----?" he began. But a look at the stray-man's face silencedhim.
"I've come over here to-day to show you that rustler I told you aboutyesterday. I'm goin' to look for him now. If he ain't sloped I reckonyou'll see him pretty soon."
Leviatt stepped down from the door of the manager's office and strodeslowly toward the bunkhouse. On the way he passed several of the men,but he paid no attention to them, his face wearing an evil expression,his eyes glittering venomously.
When he reached the bunkhouse he passed several more of the men withouta word, going directly to a corner of the room where sat Tucson andconversing earnestly with his friend. A little later both he andTucson rose and passed out of the bunkhouse, walking toward theblacksmith shop.
After a little they appeared, again joining the group outside thebunkhouse. It was while Leviatt and Tucson were in the blacksmith shopthat Ferguson had come in. When they came out again the stray-man haddisappeared into the manager's office.
Since the day when in the manager's office, Ferguson had walked acrossthe floor to return to Leviatt the leather tobacco pouch that thelatter had dropped in the depression on the ridge above the gully wherethe stray-man had discovered the dead Two Diamond cow and her calf,Leviatt had known that the stray-man suspected him of being leaguedwith the rustlers. But this knowledge had not disturbed him. He feltsecure because of his position. Even the stray-man would have to haveabsolute, damning evidence before he could hope to be successful inproving a range boss guilty of cattle stealing.
Leviatt had been more concerned over the stray-man's apparent successin courting Mary Radford. His hatred--beginning with the shootingmatch in Dry Bottom--had been intensified by the discovery of Fergusonon the Radford porch in Bear Flat; by the incident at the bunkhouse,when Rope Jones had prevented Tucson from shooting the stray-man frombehind, and by the discovery that the latter suspected him ofcomplicity with the cattle thieves. But it had reached its highestpoint when Mary Radford spurned his love. After that he had realizedthat just so long as the stray-man lived and remained at the TwoDiamond there would be no peace or security for him there.
Yet he had no thought of settling his differences with Ferguson as manto man. Twice had he been given startling proof of the stray-man'squickness with the six-shooter, and each time his own slowness had beencrushingly impressed on his mind. He was not fool enough to think thathe could beat the stray-man at that game.
But there were other ways. Rope Jones had discovered that--when it hadbeen too late to profit. Rope had ridden into a carefully laid trapand, in spite of his reputation for quickness in drawing his weapon,had found that the old game of getting a man between two fires hadproven efficacious.
And now Leviatt and Tucson were to attempt the scheme again. Since hisinterview with Stafford, Leviatt had become convinced that the time foraction had come. Ferguson had left word with the manager that he wasto show the latter the rustler, and by that token Leviatt knew that thestray-man had gathered evidence against him and was prepared to showhim to the manager in his true light. He, in turn, had left a messagewith the manager for Ferguson. "We'll be ready for him," he had said.
He did not know whether Ferguson had received this message. It hadbeen a subtle thought; the words had been merely involuntary. By "We"the manager had thought that he had meant the entire outfit was to beheld ready to apprehend the rustler. Leviatt had meant only himselfand Tucson.
And they were ready. Down in the blacksmith shop, while Ferguson hadridden in and stepped into the manager's office, had Leviatt and Tucsonmade their plan. When they had joined the group in front of thebunkhouse and had placed themselves in positions where thirty or fortyfeet of space yawned between them, they had been making the firstpreparatory movement. The next would come when Ferguson appeared, tocarry out his intention of showing Stafford the rustler.
To none of the men of the outfit did Leviatt or Tucson reveal anythingof the nervousness that affected them. They listened to the roughjest, they laughed when the other
s laughed, they dropped an occasionalword of encouragement. They even laughed at jokes in which there wasno visible point.
But they did not move from their places, nor did they neglect to keep asharp, alert eye out for the stray-man's appearance. And when they sawhim come out of the door of the office they neglected to joke or laugh,but stood silent, with the thirty or forty feet of space between them,their faces paling a little, their hearts laboring a little harder.
When Ferguson stepped out of the door of the office, Stafford followed.The stray-man had said enough to arouse the manager's suspicions, andthere was something about the stray-man's movements which gave theimpression that he contemplated something more than merely pointing outthe thief. If warning of impending tragedy had ever shone in a man'seyes, Stafford was certain that it had shone in the stray-man's duringthe brief time that he had been in the office and when he had steppeddown from the door.
Stafford had received no invitation to follow the stray-man, butimpelled by the threat in the latter's eyes and by the hint of coldresolution that gave promise of imminent tragedy, he stepped down also,trailing the stray-man at a distance of twenty yards.
Ferguson did not hesitate once in his progress toward the bunkhouse,except to cast a rapid, searching glance toward a group of two or threemen who lounged in the shade of the eaves of the building. Passing theblacksmith shop he continued toward the bunkhouse, walking with asteady stride, looking neither to the right or left.
Other men in the group, besides Leviatt and Tucson, had seen thestray-man coming, and as he came nearer, the talk died and a suddensilence fell. Ferguson came to a point within ten feet of the group ofmen, who were ranged along the wall of the bunkhouse. Stafford hadcome up rapidly, and he now stood near a corner of the bunkhouse in anattitude of intense attention.
He was in a position where he could see the stray-man's face, and hemarveled at the sudden change that had come into it. The tragedy hadgone, and though the hard lines were still around his mouth, thecorners twitched a little, as though moved by a cold, feline humor.There was a hint of mockery in his eyes--a chilling mockery, much likethat which the manager had seen in them months before when in DryBottom the stray-man had told Leviatt that he thought he was a "plumman."
But now Stafford stood breathless as he heard the stray-man's voice,directed at Leviatt. "I reckon you think you've been some busylately," he drawled.
Meaningless words, as they appear here; meaningless to the group of menand to the Two Diamond manager; yet to Leviatt they were burdened witha dire significance. They told him that the stray-man was aware of hisduplicity; they meant perhaps that the stray-man knew of his dealingswith the cattle thieves whom he had visited yesterday in the hills nearthe river. Whatever Leviatt thought, there was significance enough inthe words to bring a sneering smile to his face.
"Meanin'?" he questioned, his eyes glittering evilly.
Ferguson smiled, his eyes unwavering and narrowing a very little asthey met those of his questioner. Deliberately, as though the occasionwere one of unquestioned peace, he drew out some tobacco and severalstrips of rice paper. Selecting one of the strips of paper, hereturned the others to a pocket and proceeded to roll a cigarette. Hismovements were very deliberate. Stafford watched him, fascinated byhis coolness. In the tense silence no sound was heard except a subduedrattle of pans in the bunkhouse--telling that the cook and hisassistant were at work.
The cigarette was made finally, and then the stray-man lighted it andlooked again at Leviatt, ignoring his question, asking another himself."You workin' down the creek yesterday?" he said.
"Up!" snapped Leviatt. The question had caught him off his guard or hewould have evaded it. He had told the lie out of pure perverseness.
Ferguson took a long pull at his cigarette. "Well, now," he returned,"that's mighty peculiar. I'd have swore that I seen you an' Tucsonridin' down the river yesterday. Thought I saw you in a basin in thehills, talkin' to some men that I'd never seen before. I reckon I wasmistaken, but I'd have swore that I'd seen you."
Leviatt's face was colorless. Standing with his profile to Tucson, heclosed one eye furtively. This had been a signal that had previouslybeen agreed upon. Tucson caught it and turned slightly, letting onehand fall to his right hip, immediately above the butt of his pistol.
"Hell!" sneered Leviatt, "you're seein' a heap of things since you'vebeen runnin' with Mary Radford!"
Ferguson laughed mockingly. "Mebbe I have," he returned. "Ridin' withher sure makes a man open his eyes considerable."
Now he ignored Leviatt, speaking to Stafford. "When I was in here oneday, talkin' to you," he said quietly, "you told me about you an'Leviatt goin' to Dry Bottom to hire a gunfighter. I reckon you toldthat right?"
"I sure did," returned Stafford.
Ferguson took another pull at his cigarette--blowing the smoke slowlyskyward. And he drawled again, so that there was a distinct spacebetween the words.
"I reckon you didn't go around advertisin' that?" he asked.
Stafford shook his head negatively. "There ain't anyone around hereknowed anything about that but me an' you an' Leviatt," he returned.
Ferguson grinned coldly. "An' yet it's got out," he stated quietly."I reckon if no one but us three knowed about it, one of us has beengassin'. I wouldn't think that you'd done any gassin'," he added,speaking to Stafford.
The latter slowly shook his head.
Ferguson continued, his eyes cold and alert. "An' I reckon that Iain't shot off about it--unless I've been dreamin'. Accordin' to thatit must have been Leviatt who told Mary Radford that I'd been hired tokill her brother."
Leviatt sneered. "Suppose I did?" he returned, showing his teeth in asavage snarl. "What are you goin' to do about it?"
"Nothin' now," drawled Ferguson. "I'm glad to hear that you ain'tdenyin' it." He spoke to Stafford, without removing his gaze from therange boss.
"Yesterday," he stated calmly, "I was ridin' down the river. I found abasin among the hills. There was a cabin down there. Four men wastalkin' in front of it. There was twenty calves an' a dozen cows in acorral. Two of the men was----"
Leviatt's right hand dropped suddenly to his holster. His pistol washalf out. Tucson's hand was also wrapped around the butt of hispistol. But before the muzzle of either man's gun had cleared itsholster, there was a slight movement at the stray-man's sides and histwo guns glinted in the white sunlight. There followed two reports, sorapidly that they blended. Smoke curled from the muzzles of thestray-man's pistols.
Tucson sighed, placed both hands to his chest, and pitched forwardheadlong, stretching his length in the sand. For an instant Leviattstood rigid, his left arm swinging helplessly by his side, broken bythe stray-man's bullet, an expression of surprise and fear in his eyes.Then with a sudden, savage motion he dragged again at his gun.
One of the stray-man's guns crashed again, sharply. Leviatt's weaponwent off, its bullet throwing up sand in front of Ferguson. Leviatt'seyes closed, his knees doubled under him, and he pitched forward atFerguson's feet. He was face down, his right arm outstretched, thepistol still in his hand. A thin, blue wreath of smoke rose lazilyfrom its muzzle.
Ferguson bent over him, his weapons still in his hands. Leviatt's legsstretched slowly and then stiffened. In the strained silence that hadfollowed the shooting Ferguson stood, looking gloomily down upon thequiet form of his fallen adversary.
"I reckon you won't lie no more about me," he said dully.
Without a glance in the direction of the group of silent men, hesheathed his weapons and strode toward the ranchhouse.
The Two-Gun Man Page 22
