LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

away from her, looking back over his shoulder. "Thank you, ma'am," he said. "I'll ride over for you some time in the mornin'." He continued down the hill, loose stones rattling ahead of him. She looked after him, radiant.

      "But I didn't say I would go," she called. And then, receiving no answer to this, she waited until he had swung into the saddle and was waving a farewell to her.

      "Don't come before ten o'clock!" she advised.

      She saw him smile and then she returned to her manuscript.

      When the Sun-Gods kissed the crest of the hill and bathed her in the rich rose colors that came straight down to the hill through the rift in the mountains, she rose and gathered up her papers. She had not written another line.

      It was late in the afternoon when Leviatt rode up to the door of Stafford's office and dismounted. He took plenty of time walking the short distance that lay between him and the door, and growled a savage reply to a loafing puncher, who asked him a question. Once in the office he dropped glumly into a chair, his eyes glittering vengefully as his gaze rested on Stafford, who sat at his desk, engaged in his accounts. Through the open window Stafford had seen the range boss coming and therefore when the latter had entered he had not looked up.

      Presently he finished his work and drew back from the desk. Then he took up a pipe, filled it with tobacco, lighted it, and puffed with satisfaction.

      "Nothin's happened?" he questioned, glancing at his range boss.

      Leviatt's reply was short. "No. Dropped down to see how things was runnin'."

      "Things is quiet," returned Stafford. "There ain't been any cattle missed for a long time. I reckon the new stray-man is doin' some good."

      Leviatt's eyes glowed. "If you call gassin' with Mary Radford doin' good, why then, he's doin' it!" he snapped.

      "I ain't heard that he's doin' that," returned Stafford.

      "I'm tellin' you about it now," said Leviatt. "I seen him to-day; him an' her holdin' hands on top of a hill in Bear Flat." He sneered. "He's a better ladies' man than a gunfighter. I reckon we made a mistake in pickin' him up."

      Stafford smiled indulgently. "He's cert'nly a good looker," he said. "I reckon some girls would take a shine to him. But I ain't questionin' his shootin'. I've been in this country a right smart while an' I ain't never seen another man that could bore a can six times while it's in the air."

      Leviatt's lips drooped. "He could do that an' not have nerve enough to shoot a coyote. Him not clashin' with Ben Radford proves he ain't got nerve."

      Stafford smiled. The story of how the stray-man had closed Leviatt's mouth was still fresh in his memory. He was wondering whether Leviatt knew that he had heard about the incident.

      "Suppose you try him?" he suggested. "That'd be as good a way as any to find out if he's got nerve."

      Leviatt's face bloated poisonously, but he made no answer. Apparently unaware that he had touched a tender spot Stafford continued.

      "Mebbe his game is to get in with the girl, figgerin' that he'll be more liable that way to get a chancst at Ben Radford. But whatever his game is, I ain't interferin'. He's got a season contract an' I ain't breakin' my word with the cuss. I ain't takin' no chances with him."

      Leviatt rose abruptly, his face swelling with an anger that he was trying hard to suppress. "He'd better not go to foolin' with Mary Radford, damn him!" he snapped.

      "I reckon that wind is blowin' in two directions," grinned Stafford. "When I see him I'll tell him——" A clatter of hoofs reached the ears of the two men, and Stafford turned to the window. "Here's the stray-man now," he said gravely.

      Both men were silent when Ferguson reached the door. He stood just inside, looking at Stafford and Leviatt with cold, alert eyes. He nodded shortly to Stafford, not removing his gaze from the range boss. The latter deliberately turned his back and looked out of the window.

      There was insolence in the movement, but apparently it had no effect upon the stray-man, beyond bringing a queer twitch into the corners of his mouth. He smiled at Stafford.

      "Anything new?" questioned the latter, as he had questioned Leviatt.

      "Nothin' doin'," returned Ferguson.

      Leviatt now turned from the window. He spoke to Stafford, sneering. "Ben Radford's quite a piece away from where he's hangin' out," he said. He again turned to the window.

      Ferguson's lips smiled, but his eyes narrowed. Stafford stiffened in his chair. He watched the stray-man's hands furtively, fearing the outcome of this meeting. But Ferguson's hands were nowhere near his guns. They were folded over his chest—lightly—the fingers of his right hand caressing his chin.

      "You ridin' up the crick to-day?" he questioned of Leviatt. His tone was mild, yet there was a peculiar quality in it that hinted at hardness.

      "No," answered Leviatt, without turning.

      Ferguson began rolling a cigarette. When he had done this he lighted it and puffed slowly. "Well, now," he said, "that's mighty peculiar. I'd swore that I saw you over in Bear Flat."

      Leviatt turned. "You've been pickin' posies too long with Mary

       Radford," he sneered.

      Ferguson smiled. "Mebbe I have," he returned. "There's them that she'll let pick posies with her, an' them that she won't."

      Leviatt's face crimsoned with anger. "I reckon if you hadn't been monkeyin' around too much with the girl, you'd have run across that dead Two Diamond cow an' the dogie that she left," he sneered.

      Ferguson's lips straightened. "How far off was you standin' when that cow died?" he drawled.

      A curse writhed through Leviatt's lips. "Why, you damned——"

      "Don't!" warned Ferguson. He coolly stepped toward Leviatt, holding by the thongs the leather tobacco pouch from which he had obtained the tobacco to make his cigarette. When he had approached close to the range boss he held the pouch up before his eyes.

      "I reckon you'd better have a smoke," he said quietly; "they say it's good for the nerves." He took a long pull at the cigarette. "It's pretty fair tobacco," he continued. "I found it about ten miles up the crick, on a ridge above a dry arroyo. I reckon it's your'n. It's got your initials on it."

      The eyes of the two men met in a silent battle. Leviatt's were the first to waver. Then he reached out and took the pouch. "It's mine," he said shortly. Again he looked straight at Ferguson, his eyes carrying a silent message.

      "You see anything else?" he questioned.

      Ferguson smiled. "I ain't sayin' anything about anything else," he returned.

      Thus, unsuspectingly, did Stafford watch and listen while these two men arranged to carry on their war man to man, neither asking any favor from the man who, with a word, might have settled it. With his reply that he wasn't "sayin' anything about anything else," Ferguson had told Leviatt that he had no intention of telling his suspicions to any man. Nor from this moment would Leviatt dare whisper a derogatory word into the manager's ear concerning Ferguson.

      Chapter XIV. On the Edge of the Plateau

       Table of Contents

      Now that Ferguson was satisfied beyond doubt that Leviatt had been concealed in the thicket above the bed of the arroyo where he had come upon the dead Two Diamond cow, there remained but one disturbing thought: who was the man he had seen riding along the ridge away from the arroyo? Until he discovered the identity of the rider he must remain absolutely in the dark concerning Leviatt's motive in concealing the name of this other actor in the incident. He was positive that Leviatt knew the rider, but he was equally positive that Leviatt would keep this knowledge to himself.

      But on this morning he was not much disturbed over the mystery. Other things were troubling him. Would

Скачать книгу